Leather-Winged Oddity

by Deyeaz

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Other, Romance, Fancypants, Adventure, Fleur de Lis, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 96205

More often than not, we don't always become what we want when we go to Equestria.

(OUT OF SERVICE. GO HOME, KID, THIS STORY'S A GONER.)

Nothing is as they seem. Equestria, a land that many would assume to be the most wonderful world to exist, is all a miraculous illusion. Its joyous environment and lovable equines are all an incredibly convincing lie. Beneath the folds of this world's false beauty is an environment so horrifying, that the most rudimentary of the truth would chill the blood and freeze the heart. Trust me. I would know... a freak like me has seen this world on the inside and out, and has witnessed the terrors it contains.

You think I'm mad... I can see it by the look in your eyes. You think my story is impossible, eh? Well, it's not your fault for thinking that. Who WOULDN'T be driven mad by the horrors I'd seen? But I assure you... all of it, every last word down to the last period, is true.

Now sit down, please... and I shall tell you a tale like none which you have ever heard.

Part of the magnificent world created by the legendary authors Rust and Blackwing. Told in first person, in present-tense.

Art by me.

Published 2012-07-05 14:34:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-27 01:32:37 UTC

II - Of Wings And Talons

Leather-Winged Oddity

II - Of Wings and Talons

Pain.

Pure, sheer, indescribable pain.

Before I begin breaking down the agony I'm feeling, I want to ask you a question: have you ever had a hangover before? If you say yes, cheers, mate: you can begin to get a glimpse of what I feel. If not, then allow me to break it down for you, even though you already know what it is.

Say one night, you and your buddies go out to a bar and start your booze Crusades. After getting heavily shitfaced, you take a cab or L-Train home to sleep it off.

Unfortunately, said shitfacing brings on the horrors of the hangover.

When you wake up the next morning, your head will be pounding furiously, like your brain suddenly decides that it wants to climb out of your skull. Since a transition from a dark environment to a bright one catches your eyes by surprise and makes your head throb even more, you have no choice but to either stay asleep in bed or put on sunglasses. Your gag reflexes heighten, and the urge to puke decides to make itself known every other five minutes.

But that almost never happens to us Irish people. Nope: anyone of Celtic descent is considered a god of drinking due to the ability to stay sober after two dozen bottles of booze. Hell, give me a liter of whiskey and watch me go to town on it. I bet you anything that I'll still be coherent.

...Yet I digress. This is no normal morning wake-up call. To understand the grasp of excruciation I'm undergoing, imagine that the migraine from a typical hangover had been magnified by twice its strength, along with the feeling that every part of your body had been beaten and battered to the point where you lose the feeling in them.

I try to open my tired eyes, yet when the light of the sun struck them, I snap them shut immediately to avoid increasing the pain of my already head-splitting headache. I quickly, yet gently, rub my temples to deaden the migraine's pain. I try opening my eyes again, yet ever so slowly. Once they are sent fully ajar, I start to recall the incident from before I was robbed of my consciousness.

I got in a fight and won....

The substitute dean sent me to her office....

She asked me if I wanted to go to Equestria....

...

Wait a damn minute.

I prop myself up from my facedown prone position quickly, and regret it almost instantly. My headache returns from how suddenly I sit up. I clutch my head in my right hand while the left kept me prop up. Yet I couldn't help but smile at how my hands remain the same as always.

But still... that woman's last words still ring in my ears.

In order for it to work... you just need... a little bit of magic....

And boom, that's all she freakin' wrote... literally.

I rub the spot on my forehead where that abnormal pencil had struck me. I'm right when I say that she isn't just a run-of-the-mill cosplayer.

Then it all starts to click.

Blue eyes and hair? Moon earrings? Saying it isn't impossible to get to Equestria? Knowing of the existence of bronies? She isn't just a fanatical cosplayer, or some crazy woman trying to rustle my jimmies. Based off of her appearance, and her strange ability to make that pencil knock me out in one blow, I can only assume that she is--

...

Sweet, merciful God....

Princess motherfreaking Luna….

I knew there is something up with her! The students are such delinquents that any substitute staff member would practically cower before them. But something about her seems to just radiate power and authority. I guess being a goddess of the moon gives you that perk.

If I ever get the chance, I'll probably ask her if she's heard from her lunar friend Skippy the moon rock. While I'd receive a questioning stare from her if she didn't know what I am talking about and a thousand years on the moon if she did know, I think the question would be worth asking.

Plus, I hear Skippy throws some wicked parties.

But I'm going off on a tangent. Of all the people to pick, why me? Surely, there must be other capable bronies out there that can do much better than me... unless they've undergone the same thing as I have, to be teleported here to Equestria as something else. Now that I think about it, I did read about some people disappearing in the news.

And what about my body? What if, instead of Luna actually bringing my whole body and mind here, a part of me is here, while the other part is back on Earth, like some sort of John Carter experience? Hell, my body on Earth might be behaving as stupidly, unpredictably, and neurotically as a dog with half its brain surgically removed. Now that I mention it, my other half is probably running around school campus on all fours, humping legs and pissing on trees as it barks and howls the My Little Pony theme song.

But am I really in Equestria? Only one way to find out.

I take a small look at my surroundings, and I am shell-shocked by what my graces my eyes.

I'm laying in the midst of an immense beach. The electric blue waters, white in the sunlight, oscillate back and forth, washing over the sands that rest beneath me.

I don't need to look down to realize that I am stark naked. The warm sand on my giblets and the cool breeze blowing my body make my enigmatic nudity evident.

"Sonuvabitch...." I face-palm from this series of unfortunate events.

Aw well, better a beach than an alleyway on Colfax avenue. Baaaad things happen there.

I crawl over to the waters of the ocean and splash the salt-laced water into my face. The cold fluid woke me up as it trickles down my chin. As soon as the seawater stops rippling from me disturbing it, however, I begin trembling at what I see in my reflection.

My facial features remain the same: same thin nose, same black messy hair, same face. My eyes, instead of being steel-gray, are as scarlet as blood. It is a modification that I can get used to in time. However, the thing that terrifies me the most is what had happened to the sides of my head.

Wings as large as Spartan shields sprout a centimeter above my ears. The appendages of flight are black as night and leathery, like the wings of a bat. Ignoring the dull yet evident pain in my body, I jump back and start backing away from it. I only frighten myself more when I see my feet.

Replacing the Caucasian skin of my feet are two eagle claws, with proportions to make them resemble human feet. Rather than five whole toes per foot, I only had four talons that resemble toes, with three in front and one in back. From the ankles of my new walking limbs to the area underneath my knees are feathers as black as my wings. I subconsciously send a hand towards my right, feather-bearing leg and grab a lone feather. I rip it out, and a small jolt of pain shoots right through the spot the feather had been forcefully yank from.

So it isn't a dream... My brain, which I deem rather hallucinogenic at this point, isn't just making up this... this terrifying phenomenon.

It's all real....

Half of me is astonished by my transformation, drooling at the thought of what I can do in this new form. While the other half, after being confronted with this situation...

"Whaaat theee FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"

...chooses the more logical approach.

After a few seconds of shouting at the top of my lungs, I stop to try and catch my breath: one could've mistaken me for performing opera I was screaming so long.

One question rings in my head, like someone smacked a gong right next to my ears.

What have I become?

This day can't possibly get any worse, can it?

*THUMP*

"OW!"

...Apparently, it can. For God had answered my rhetorical question in the form of something heavy landing on my head.

The object that dive-bombs my scalp fall behind me with a small thump. I clutch my head again, as the object reawakens my devastating migraine. I look behind me and see that the item is my backpack. "Thanks, brah!" I shout at the sky.

"You're welcome."

...Whoa... I need to lay off Nana's brownies.

"Ah! Who said that!?" While many deem it illogical and possibly crazy for someone to be talking to nothing, I have no choice but to do so. But it doesn't feel like there's nothing there. The voice that had spoken seems to be coming from all sides. A strange chill runs up my body as I quickly stand up, ignoring the small aches of my legs and my still-raging headache.

There's a paranormal presence in the air... I'm not alone.

"Fear not, young creature. I mean you no harm whatsoever."

"Wh... who are you? Princess Luna?" I ask shakily. To my surprise, the voice laughs like I had told a witty joke.

"I am not the Equestrian goddess of the moon, Luna Everfree. I am the Egyptian sky goddess, Nut--"

Yeah, you are one.

"I heard that."

…Shit. "Nut" chuckles again at the misfortune of my thoughts being heard by her.

"So, my little pawn, are you ready?" she asks.

"Ready for what?" I say skeptically. Pawn? What is she talking about?

"To be part of this world, of course." It isn't what she said... it's the way she said it, like she's casually telling the weather, as if she and possibly several other gods send random humans to a universe that shouldn't even exist like it's a sport. A favorite pastime.

While the idea of appearing in Equestria sounds nice, I'm a little disappointed. So it isn't Luna who sent me here. Rather, it is a mythological Sky Goddess whose Egyptian origin clashes with the goddesses' and powerful Unicorn magicians' Equestrian roots. But since Nut is depicted as a blue woman in Ancient Egyptian mythology, and the woman who imposed as my dean is a woman clad in all blue, I can see the reasoning behind that.

But still, the question remains....

"Nut? What am I?"

"You are what I would refer to as a 'Devil Imp', my boy," Nut answers honestly. Devil Imp? I've heard of that before... haven't I? While it definitely doesn't have anything to do with the show, I have a feeling I've come across it before...

Ah... Gaia Online... of course.....

Nut chuckles again. Apparently, she knew about my discovering what I derive from. I face-palm again. "But of all the people to choose, why me?" I ask.

"My dear Damien... I've seen you fight those three men, and against all odds and against their constant triumphs over you, you took a stand and ended their reign of terror. Plus I wanted to test your mettle. You fought for a justice that was never properly given to you. Now that is something that is worth rewarding."

"How many more are here? More transfigured humans, I mean."

"Believe me when I say that there are many more, better and worse, out there in this world. Some have been considered magnificent legends. Some are humble travelers, preferring to maintain a low profile."

"Like who?"

"A griffin, slayer of dragons; a cat-human, sufferer of a lost limb; a Diamond Dog, the silent protector of the people; a changeling, the misunderstood melody-bringer; A wolf-man, master of combat; a woman, stripped of her godly powers." I laugh at the words 'woman' and 'stripped'. What? You would, too, asshole. "So many more await your travels. You have no idea who you will meet, when you meet them, or what order you meet them. Just know that they will prove to either be great friends, or great enemies."

I gulp. I didn't like the sound of making enemies. "But what did you mean when you called me your pawn?"

Nut only chuckles again. "I think you'll find out in due time...." And with that not-so fine farewell, the supernatual presence that Nut seems to emulate vanishes into nothingness. What does she mean when she says that I'll find out in due time?

"Don't think too hard on it, Damien," I tell myself. "Just... find a way off this beach... and maybe even throw on some clothes." I look at the backpack next to me. While I should know by now that there is nothing in there but my schoolbooks and binders, it's worth a shot. Plus, it'll help get my mind off of what had just happened.

I kneel down in front of the backpack, pull away the two zippers of the main pocket, and open it. Rather than finding my usual school equipment, however, I discover something that is a curious sight to see.

Inside the bag are my earphones and iTouch, still intact from its infinite-league descent; several pairs of boxer briefs, a pair of brown baggy pants, and a red length of cloth that I assume is a sash, and each article of clothing is folded and fresh-smelling, like they came from the dryer. I didn't hesitate in pulling out the pants and a pair of underwear from inside and putting them on, even though I had to curl my talons to avoid shredding them to pieces. They are warm, clean, and easy on the skin and feathers, yet very durable. I delve deeper into the large pocket of my bag for more things inside; a week's supply of rations, map, and some First-Aid kits, a reasonable thing to include when you are somewhere foreign and supposedly unfamiliar; and a large, thin sword.

The sword makes me raise an eyebrow. How can such a large weapon fit inside such a small carrying item? A possible theory might be similar to when Harry Potter pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of the Sorting Hat: magic. It is the only thing that could serve as the reasonable answer.

And since I can only assume that this is Equestria....

I slowly reach inside the bag and pull the sword out by the scabbard. My theory is proven right. it had fit inside the bag through magic. The scabbard has a crimson shell, with a belt strap, four gold bands around the middle, and a gold-protected end. The mouth for the blade is a semicircle about the size of a tennis ball and is two centimeters thick, adorned with half a black gem. The blade also shares a semicircle hilt and half-gem. The two connect to form a complete circle and black diamond. I grip the red fabric-wrapped handle of the sword, my hand taking up four-fifths of the handle, and pull it out from its scabbard. The blade resembles a falchion sword, and is equivalent in length to a long-board. Rather than being wrought from steel, the exotic-looking sword is a pitch black. The dark gray edge looks devastatingly sharp, possibly sharp enough to cut a feather by weight alone. I pick up my plucked feather from off the sandy floor and drop it on the blade. Sure enough, the blade cuts through it like it was nothing.

"Jesus Christ..." I mutter. I give the air a quick slash. The air seems to... sing around the blade as it travels through the air. I slash again. Same effect, like the blade is sharp enough to even cut the air. I sheathe the sword. A chain that had one of those secure locking hooks is locked through a triangular hole at the exposed end of the handle. The chain dangles as I hold the sheathed weapon in front of me. At the end of the chain is a black devil wing the size of an eyeball. I look up at the sky again, and smile at it. "Thanks again, Nut," I whisper.

I delve back into the backpack and retrieve the map. After opening it, I scan its contents. Equestria is in the middle of the map, the star possibly resembling the capital, Canterlot. To the northwest, north, and northeast were the Dragon Badlands and Changling Wasteland, Gem Fido, and the Griffin Dominion, in that respective order. To the southwest, south, and southeast, in the same order, were the Volcanic Wastes, the Great Southern Rainforest, and the Black Marsh. A monolithic body of water known as the Ring Sea had been placed at the equator of the planet, beginning from the east of Equestria and ending at the west of it, making the province of equines a large and beautiful jewel upon an aquatic band of electric blue. To the east and right of Equestria in the middle of the Ring Sea were the Zebraconian Islands. A little settlement to the far southeast known as Signal sat on one of the islands.

What really catches my eye, however, is the unexplored land beneath the Rainforest. Its khaki hue must symbolize that it is a desert.

I like what that desert has to offer, but right now, I have to get used to being in a new world. World of Warcraft has taught me to never go into unexplored territory when you're a noob. I was going to put the map away until I see writing on the back. I flip the parchment over to read what had been inscribed on it.

'The sword you are wielding is one of ancient lore. Crafted from the internal meteoritic ore known as mithril, the sword is as light as a stick, yet as strong as dragon scales, and almost as sharp. The previous owner named it after herself, Nightlock, one of this world's many heroines. Use it wisely, and use it well.

~N.'

N? Really? This bitch can't be any less subtle.

"Nightlock, eh?" I look at the sword on the ground. I flip the map over and begin to try memorizing its contents.

A few minutes passed until I memorize the geography and towns on the map, from Ponyville to Tailton Springs in the west and Wethoof in the Rainforest. I put the map away before undoing the scabbard's belt, then redoing it so that the scabbard is at my left waist, allowing me to quickly pull it out with my right hand. I zip my backpack closed and put it on.

First thing's first: I need to get out of here, and head west to Equestria, for I'm stuck on the eastern shore. I turn towards the green scenery behind me and walk on.

A second question come to me as the sand beneath by claws transitioned to soil and grass....

How the hell do I fly?

Shadow: Holy crap! 18 likes and 7 dislikes? That's not bad. That's not bad at all!

I wanna thank you all for sticking to this fan fic! Really, without you all, this story would've been considered dead. I also wanna thank Forevermore for informing me of Luna already being used and giving me the idea to use Nut instead. Cheers, bud!

Also, I didn't make the characters that Nut mentioned. Respectively, they belong to BlackWing, Fordregha, Rust, JJ Malcolm, Io, and Forevermore. If you don't know their characters, they are known as Griffin, Khajiit "Jack", Echo, Knightmare, Aoi, and Skeleton Jack, respectively.

The next chapter will be here soon, so please don't hold your breath for it, because I wont be responsible for your medical bills.

~S.W.

III - Descent Into Danger

Leather-Winged Oddity

III - Descent Into Danger

Fatigue.

A state of awareness describing a range of afflictions that usually associates with physical and/or mental weakness, though varying from a general state of lethargy to a specific work-induced burning sensation within one's muscles. There are two types of fatigue: physical fatigue, the inability to continue functioning at the level of one's normal abilities, a widespread thing in everyday life, but only becomes evident through exertion, particularly during heavy exercise; and mental fatigue, which, on the other hand, rather manifests in somnolence, or sleepiness.

At the current time, I'm almost preparing to break down from both: Physical fatigue from my long trek across the plains and small forests of Equestria - a trek that I calculate to have lasted about three hours, due to the suns's current position; and mental fatigue from how I spent all last night on Earth studying for my Psychology test.

Seriously, if I had known that I would be blasted away to fuckin' Equestria, I wouldn't've studied for that shit.

After rechecking the map and observing by surroundings, an uneasy feat from the darkness cast by the thick and heavy shading of the trees, I come to the conclusion that I only traveled a sixth of the way. I'm in another small forest that also isn't included in the map: perhaps the creator of the map overlooked these forests? Or maybe he didn't deem them important?

Either way, this'll be where I will stop for now. I undo the belt around my waist and let it fall to the floor, the backpack following shortly after. I grab them and hook their straps onto a low-hanging tree branch. The afternoon air had indeed gotten colder than I had thought. I rummage through the backpack for some sort of shirt or blanket.

Instead, I come across a black long-sleeve shirt, more red cloth, and a white jacket.

I want to put on the long-sleeve shirt first, yet my wings are way too big to even fit in the head hole. I fold my wings to that they wrap themselves around my face. Sure, I can't see, but putting on the shirt is much easier now. I'm a little more eager to wear the jacket, since I don't have to put it over my head. It is a duster jacket with a leather outside, and the bottom of it reaches my feathery calves. The sleeves of the jacket are shorter than my undershirt sleeves by a minuscule amount, the jacket's cuffs being as red as blood. The inside of the jacket is as smooth and soft as velvet, red as well. Apparently, Nut also shares my taste in video games, because the same black Legend of Zelda insignia that is tattooed on my back is now on the back of the duster, yet is outlined with red. Once the jacket's on, the red cloth comes next. I take it and wrap it securely around my neck, letting one end rest on my back while the other rests on my chest.

I want to see what I look like, though, in these new threads.

Why? Because fuck you, that's why. There's nothing more important in life than looking like a badass.

Finding a small pond a few paces to my right, I walk over to it to look at my reflection in the water. And only one word rings in my mind.

Swag!

While I'm a little happy that I was now fully pimped out in my new duds, that same pang of exhaustion surges through me. I return to the tree and pop open one of the rations in the bag.

Who knew that I would be ravenous for a small BLT sandwich, a little bottle of water, and a banana?

After wolfing them down like there was no tomorrow, I lean back against the tree, content that my stomach is satisfied. I close my eyes in the hopes that I would fall asleep.

The time seems to melt away as my drowsiness increases. Before long, I'm sleeping like a baby.

Princess Celestia watches over the land of Equestria from atop one of the many spires and minarets of her snow-white castle, the light of the sun seeming to shine off of her alabaster coat. She has just received a letter from the infamous freedom-fighting pirate Griffin the griffin, informing her that he and his crew are on their way to the Grand Galloping Gala in a few day's time, and if she can provide tickets for them; the goddess of the Sun replies with a pass that would allow all of them to get into the Gala.

'It seems that he'll be here soon.'

A chill shoots up her spine all of a sudden, and while there is nothing there, the solar Alicorn feels a presence in her midst. But she has a feeling she knows who it is. "Nut? Is that you?" She asks.

"Indeed it is, princess," a heavenly voice says. Something begins to shimmer a few feet in front of Celestia. A form, once invisible, starts to make itself known by the naked eye. A tall woman, a head taller than Celestia, with midnight blue skin, long hair of the same colour that is dotted with constellations, and a dress woven from stars, appears. The Equestrian goddess of the sun looks into the blank and glowing white eyes of the Egyptian sky goddess with her elegant pink ones before smiling. The entity returns the smile with gusto.

"So how do you do, Nut?" Celestia asks.

"I am doing fine, Celestia," Nut replies. "And you?"

"Mm. Can't complain... I take it you have chosen your pawn?"

"Correct. Would you like to see him?"

"Of course." At Celestia's consent, Nut waves a hand in front of her. A trail of shimmering magic forms where her hand passes. The magic soon reveals the oddest creature Celestia had seen. For starters, it has the body of a human, yet its legs are that of an eagle's with black feathers on its lower legs, and it has very large bat wings on the sides of its head. It seems to be napping in a forest, its chest rising and falling with each breath. "What... what is it?" She finally asks.

"This creature is known as a Devil Imp, Celestia," Nut answers.

"D... Devil Imp? How did he get like that?"

"He had requested that he be a bipedal, yet have the ability to fly. However, I don't think he has mastered how to fly yet."

"Is it wise to bring him like that? Especially with my little ponies'... view… of other strange creatures?"

Nut dispels the magic scrying glass. "I believe he will be fine." Nut starts to fade out of Celestia's presence. "Take care, Princess Celestia." Just like that, the Sky Goddess vanishes, leaving Celestia in her lonesome.

"Farewell, Nut." Celestia turns to the east. "Please, watch over him."

*RRRRRRRRRRR*

Ah... well played, tomatoes. Well played.

I carefully get up from my spot. The angle I was sleeping in makes my back and neck rather sore. I start rummaging through my pack, looking for--

...Sweet baby Jesus, she didn't give me any toilet paper.

I quickly dive behind a nearby bush, for my stomach is reacting violently to the tomatoes I had eaten less than an hour ago. While I am in no mood to use the greenery as a makeshift ass-wiper - I still remember that poison ivy incident from ten years ago - I don't have much of a choice. After digging a small hole in the ground with the help of Nightlock, I drop my trousers and squat, a large leaf in hand.

...I should've brought my iTouch to kill the time.

...

Three minutes crawl by. Once done with my business, I clean up and redress. I use my clawed feet to cover the hole with dirt like a cat in a litter box. I then use Nightlock to slice out-of-reach branches down so that I can strip them of their leaves and make a small mattress out of them.

Curling up in my makeshift bed, I try dozing off again, yet it takes a much longer time than before. But with my sword at my side, nothing can possibly go wrong... right?

Right?

*SNORT-SNORT. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!*

...I spoke too soon, didn't I?

My eyes shoot open to see a warthog the size of a Hummer. Brown in skin color, black tuft of hair, angry red eyes, and tusks that made Sephiroth's katana look like a butter knife...

And it's charging my way.

"Pfft. looks like I'm having ham for dinner tonight!!"

At least... I think I try to say that. But in truth, I think it comes out more as a:

"FFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-!"

Yeah, you get the general idea.

I roll out of the way before the warthog can trample me. I quickly grab my stuff and get out of there as fast as I can. The warthog turns around and starts chasing me down, even after I leave the forest. After several failed attempts at trying to fly, I reluctantly perish the thought and keep legging it across the grassy plains, the warthog still hot on my tail.

"Jesus Christ, what'd I ever do t' you, Pumbaa!?" Where the fuck is a slingshot with a little red bird when I need it?!

*SQUUEEEEEEEEEE!!!*

Unluckily, in my avian-weaponry-induced stupor, the warthog speeds up. It tosses its head to the side before swinging its large tusks into my waist. The crushing blow knocks me off course, sending all my possessions other than Nightlock scattering. I fall painfully into the grass and roll a few times before I unsteadily get back on my claws. I unsheathe Nightlock and point it at the warthog. It will do me no good to try and run away again. The warthog and I walk in circles, our eyes never letting up on one another, scanning for any weaknesses or chinks in the proverbial armor.

Unfortunately, the chink in my armor come in the form of faint, yet somewhat audible, shrieks of agony from the Great Southern Rainforest that ring through the sunset-cast sky like a gunshot.

It sounds like a group of men and women. And they're in serious trouble.

But the warthog, sensing my sudden loss of attention to it, paws the ground before charging at me, tusks poised to gore me.

I barely get out of the way before I became shish-kebab. I roll to the left side, the warthog's right tusk nearly grazing my leg. Just like my fight against the three bullies, my senses and motor skills send themselves into maximum overdrive. The warthog turns around in mid-dash and comes for me again. My legs are tensed, and my hand is gripping Nightlock's handle so hard that the knuckles are white.

Right before the warthog can skewer me again, I buckle my legs and leap over it, my wings flapping to help me get a bit more air time. I land precariously on its back on my belly. I turn around so that I face its direction and I bury my talons into the overgrown swine's flesh. The warthog squeals in pain and tries to buck me off like an enraged bull would its rider. I exclaim and holler with every upward jolt. I grab its messy hair to make sure I didn't fall off. After regaining what little balance I can, I flip Nightlock in my hand so that it was in an upside-down fashion. I cock my arm back and bury the blade into the warthog's skull.

The large beast practically roars in agony. The sword has no trouble getting into its skull, but it's now stuck there from how badly the warthog jostles himself. I held on with both hands as it tries bucking me in the attempts to get me off, but its attempts get feebler and feebler every second. It finally keels over, dead. I remove Nightlock from its cranium, letting the blood drain from its body. I relinquish my vice grip on its back and get off of it, cleaning the long and thin falchion on its skin.

This is my first time killing something. I don't know what to make of it, either. My hands are shaking and my breath was rattling, the adrenaline my heart was pumping finally wearing away. I was shakily sheathing Nightlock as I stare at the fallen beast. I have no idea what I'm feeling right now, but whatever it is, it's new....

"HA!!! GET ON MY LEVEL, BITCH!!!"

And it feels amazing. I undo and redo Nightlock's strap, this time over my back. I grab my pack and carefully swing it over my back so that it rests on top of the scabbard. I remember the screams that came from the Rainforest... I want to go check it out... but I have a feeling that there are stronger monsters in there than that warthog.

Nonetheless... I have to see if the victims were alright. But I can't keep walking the whole way.

I had to learn how to fly. I close my eyes, concentrating on taking to the skies. My wings slowly responding with regular-paced beats.

Concentrate... concentrate.

*FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, FLAP, FLAP-*

I beat my wings harder, yet at the same metronome-like rate. I feel the floor disappear beneath my claws. I open my eyes and look down, a little grin plastered to my face.

That's right, bitches. I'm flying now.

Albeit, I look really stupid right now, but I'm flying.

With some difficulty, I turn around to face the Great Southern Rainforest, getting ready to help whoever had been screaming.

As I lean forward to take off towards the forest, my thoughts came back to the warthog I killed, the rush I got, the sensation I received.... the experince of it all.

I was so scared then. But, in a way, it was really fun. I mean, back home, every boring day had always been the same for me.

But this... this is the beginning of a new adventure.

Shadow: I do not own Griffin the griffin, or his merry crew of badass pirates. They belong to BlackWing. Also the woman who had screamed was the Lacuni tribe members that Skeleton Jack killed. She also doesn't belong to me, for she (her parents watched too much Nightmare Before Christmas) is Forevermore's character.

The new chapter will be out soon, but in the meantime, I shall be working on my other two fictions.

Hope you like this chapter, everybody!

~S.W.

IV - Latin Prayers

Leather-Winged Oddity

IV - Latin Prayers

What is fear exactly?

Is it to be frightened of an individual because it intimidates anyone or anything in its vicinity due to its ferocity, size, and awe-inspiring capabilities?

Or is it to be afraid of something that you don't understand? Like you can't be able to get a mental grasp of it from how mysterious it is?

I would like to think that fear can take either forms.

Let me explain. Anyone capable of having thoughts and feelings can be scared of anything that they know nothing about, or something that frightens the living daylights out of anyone. That's why I choose not to go into towns populated by ponies, for the sake of not striking fear into their hearts.

But more often than not, that same fear can spawn hatred. Sometimes, it's a hatred that can be easily quenched, and will be easily replaced with love and trust.

Other times, when fear creates hatred for someone or something, it is a loathing so intense and inextinguishable that nothing in the world can stop it. It will charge on to infinity and beyond, unchanging and unrelenting, as the emulator of that hatred will do all it could to crush the thing or individual he or she despises the same way a maelstrom-cast ocean would crush a mere ship.

Why else do racism and prejudice exist?

This faux pas of philosophy comes to me as I travel through the Great Southern Rainforest to find the people/ponies who had screamed bloody murder. The humidity of the jungle makes me perspire slightly, but I press on. But as I do so, I realized that the individuals had stopped their screaming a while ago, meaning three things: that whatever problem that has arisen has been handled, that I am somehow getting farther away, or that I am too late to help.

I think the first option is unlikely, yet plausible; the second just seems almost impossible, yet still a little bit likely to happen. The third option is the only one that has a higher possibility rate than the other two.

I land on one of the many trees that make up the rainforest in its entirety, my wings getting sore from their activity. Free-running from tree to tree in the hopes to find out where the victims are, I come across something that frightens me, even until my dying day..

A small tribal village, with many huts crafted from wood, animal hide, and plant life, fit to hold a hundred civilians.

And it is in flames, robbed of all life.

But it isn't just the village's decimation that startles me. It is the cadavers that litter the ground before me.

They are neither people nor ponies. Instead, they appear to be... anthropomorphic cats. They bear fur of gold and eyes of royal blue, the latter empty of any signs of life, and each one is long and lanky, or at least had been: they are either decapitated or separated from their limbs. I realize that each one wears tunics of brown, the men wear pants while the women wear skirts. Each one has jewelry, like anklets, bracelets, earrings, etc. But every single one has a beaded necklace. Despite that every male cat-person has swords and spears, they had been easily bested, almost as if they had no experience in fighting at all.

I lift my scarf up so that it shrouds the bottom half of my face, blocking out most of the smell of decaying and burning flesh that threaten to make me regurgitate my lunch. I immediately turn tail to leave.

Until... I hear it.

"W...wait. P-p-please d-don't go," a weak, dying voice pleads.

I turn around again slowly. The speaker is a female cat-woman, who looks to be in her teen years. She, being the same color as her fallen fellows, is sitting and leaning on a totem pole, her left and only hand reaching out to me while the right and incapacitated one bleeds into the soil beneath her. A large splotch of blood is accumulated around her stomach: she was stabbed as well. Tears are streaming down her face, getting lost in the forest of fur on her cheeks. I come over to her and grab her hand (paw?) tenderly.

"You poor soul... what happened?"

"P-P-prisoners... a fl-fleshy w-w-w-woman... s-summoned Dead Ones... destr-troyed the v-v-village... k-killed everyone... sh-she esc-c-caped w-with the o-o-other p-prisoner..." She bends her head down and coughs into her chest. Crimson blood sprinkles the rough brown hide of her tunic.

"Shh..." I press a finger onto her mouth to keep her quiet. "Strain thy tired voice no more."

"P-please...." she shakes her head. "P-p-please e-end my p-pain." I nod reluctantly, and a small, albeit sad, smile forms on her face. "Th-thank you... th-thank you, kind st-stranger."

"Think nothing of it, madam." I draw Nightlock, and the cat-woman stares at the weapon. I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to find this woman the proper sendoff. After the few seconds, the right farewell was found. I clear my throat. "Et pastores nos esse. Enim te, Domine, enim te. Potentia habet descendit de Tua manu, quod nostrum pedes citus ferre foras Tua iussum. Et nostrum morietur fluunt a flumen ad Tibi, et implevit usque cum eorum animas morietur eam sempiternum esse. In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

"Th... that w-was beautiful," the cat-woman says as she winces, more tears rolling down her furry face. She coughs again, the blood coming out in small torrents.

"Thank you. May you find solace in your eternal slumber." I let go of her paw and raise Nightlock. With closed eyes to shield them from the inevitable and a tear rolling down my left cheek, I kneel down and give a hard swing at the cat-woman's neck. I hear a thunk of the metal slicing into wood and a thud as her head hit the ground. With difficulty from how well buried my sword is in the wood, I pull out Nightlock from the totem pole and open my eyes to reveal the decapitated cat-lady before me. "Rest in peace." I sigh, flicking the sword and removing all the blood from it. As I sheathe my blade, the corner of my eye catches something.

It is a stone altar that is heavily stained with blood. I shudder in disgust at the entrails that litter the ground around it. I walk over to it, and go wide-eyed at the long, bloody, serrated blade that sits on top of the altar, as well as the skulls that cover the floor. On my way over, I accidentally kick a skull, and it rolls on the ground before coming to a stop at an empty wooden bowl.

And like a raging Mack truck on the highway, it hits me.

These... cat-people... sacrifice their own kind? And for what? Food? Fun? Or for some sort of gods that they believe in, in the vain hopes that their ecclesiastic "saviors" will help them with whatever the hell had been haunting them, be it famine or plague?

"That's just disgustin'." I turn around again and take to the now star-dotted skies, my mind teeming with what had happened, from the boar to the cat-woman. From the moment my sword tasted blood, I knew this would not be my way. Like Nut had told me many times before, I am a pawn, like some sort of sick chess game of the gods. In this game, freedom is but a beautiful lie, a tantalizing mirage sent to drive a mere pawn like me to work harder in doing what my Player urged me to do in the attempts to achieve said liberty.

But it is all for naught.

From that moment on, I know the definition of fear. It isn't an" either/or" thing like I thought. No... it is both: fear of the intimidating superior and fear of the unknown and enigmatic.

I make sure I get out of there as fast as possible, ignoring my sore wings and doing all in my power to rid my mind of the cannibalistic images that constantly come into my head.

V - Canines Of Silence

Shadow: Before we begin, I would like to announce that I make cover art for anyone that needs it, so if you want me to make you a cover art photo, PM me, but don't ask for something over the top. For example:
This is Damien.
Also, here's a picture of what Nightlock actually looks like:
Anyways, where was I? Oh, right. Storytime. ALLONS-Y, BITCHES!

Leather-Winged Oddity

V - Canines Of Silence

I vacate the Rainforest with great gusto, happy to leave behind the terrifying events that took place. With night having fallen, I decide to rest up, if I'm going to reach Canterlot soon. Perhaps one day I'll go back and see what the cat-woman was talking about when she mentioned "Dead Ones" and "Fleshy woman.'

...Wait a second.

*Loading*

*Loading*

*Loading*

*Loading Complete: "Fleshy Woman" is another way to refer to a "human."* Brain, run Memory.EXE.

...

"...A woman, stripped of her godly powers..."

Hehehe... stripped.

But enough about my immature mind. Nut talked about a de-powered goddess, while the cat-woman told me about a fleshy woman controlling "Dead Ones", and she was on the loose with a prisoner of their tribe....

...well, shit.

After putting two and two together, I come to the conclusion that the woman who slew the tribe of cats is the same "noob-level" goddess Nut mentioned. I would've gone into the forest and went looking for her, but right now, I'm in no mood to return to the scene after what I had to do to the cat-woman, may she rest in peace. Plus, I'm tuckered out from today. It may not look it, but slaying a wild warthog, flying through a forest, having to put a dying feline out of her misery, and flying out that SAME forest at sixty-five kilometers an hour takes it out of you.

I land on the lowest branch of a lone oak tree right outside the Rainforest. I dig my talons into it and swing upside down like a boss.

Well, in a bat-like sort of way, but boss-like nevertheless. My wings wrap around my face and torso to block out any sunlight. I tighten the straps on my backpack so that it won't dangle; It's also good for holding my sword and duster jacket in place.

Ah... nothing like all the blood rushing to your head to help you get to sleep....

Forty minutes later

"AAHH! WHAT IN TARTARUS IS THAT?!" A woman - a mare, perhaps, with a slightly familiar voice - shrieks loudly.

Oh sure, scream at the top of your lungs. It's not like I was sleeping or anything... asshole.

"Ugh... that thing is bucking ugly!" Another mare says, her voice being completely foreign to me.

I'm gonna pretend you didn't say that, you shrew. I'm a sexy devil... and trust me, that isn't a misnomer. I don't unfold my wings just yet. I want to wait for whichever dumbass had woken me up so that I can scare them.

Hey, I normally don't go frightening ponies, but these ones kinda deserve it.

"Ooh! It's hangin' upside-down!" A male voice says cheerfully. I hear... what soundes like a lobster claw picking up a stick? "Maybe it's a piñata! And if that's the case... MAYBE THERE'S CANDY INSIDE!!!"

...wait, what?

*WHACK!*

"OW!!! SHIT!!!" I unfurl my wings to their full extent out of shock, wincing as I hold my stomach in pain. I try to make myself scarce by vacating the tree, yet my talons are sunk deep into the wood of the branch.

I'm stuck.

"It just talked!" The first mare shouts.

"Buck talkin', it just moved!" Another male voice says, this time bearing an accent that was a mix of British, Brazilian, and maybe even Swedish.

*THWACK!*

"AH!!! YOU FUCKER!!! KNOCK IT OFF!!!" The second strike knocks me out of my tree and into a slump on the ground.

"Not until you give me candy, darn it!"

"I'm not a Goddamn piñata, ya stupid prick!" I shout at the attacker, my volume rising with every word.

Is it me, or do I hear a sort of wheezing laughter in the background?

"Disarray, leave 'im alone!" The mare with the familiar voice tells the guy beating me. There was a few seconds' pause. Apparently, 'Disarray' lets up on the brutal assault... then--

*WHACK!*

...Nutshot. Targets acquired.

"Ooh-hoo-hoo... my tenders..." I grab myself in the attempts of dulling the pain that sears in my giblets. There is still more of that wheezing laughter.

"Crikey... tha' looked like it hurt," the stallion with the multiple accents says.

"You suck... I hate you so much...." As I slowly get up, I see the most bizarre thing in the world.

Standing before me is a creature that was my height. It stands on two legs, the right leg being of an ostrich, the other of a lion, with a kangaroo tail trailing behind it. The green serpentine body is slender and has scales running up the front, while golden-brown feathers trail down its spine. It has two sets of arms, one set is that of a massive lobster, the other set of a polar bear. It has a lavender-colored head that resembles a Chinese dragon, horns and spines included. To add the finishing touch is a magnificent, curled mustache, streaked with green, pink, and blue.

...Now, is it me again? Or does that Rainforest air have thrice the potency of weed when inhaled?

"You alright, brah?" The draconequus named Disarray asks.

...Yep. So much better than pot.

"Uh... hello?" Disarray called, poking my chest with a sharp bear claw, snapping me out of my cannabis-induced reverie.

"Ow! That hurt!"

Wait a minute... that hurt.

I shake my head violently in the attempts to convince myself that it's all a mirage. Nope, Disarray is still there, looking at me with a hint of concern.

*Loading*

*Loading*

*Loading Complete: Your ass ain't hallucinatin', bro!*

Brain? Abort BrickShitting.EXE and run CinderblockShitting.EXE.

"Oh MY GOD!!!" The draconequus and, by the sound of things, a few others are taken by surprise at my sudden exclamation. I look behind him and see four more individuals, two of them pulling a six-wheeled, wooden, monster truck-sized wagon with the words Shagwagon crudely painted on the sides.

Seriously? SHAGWAGON? Best name ever.

Focus, Damien! Find out who the hell's staring at you!

One is a Pegasus pony that I recognized as the ever-fantastic Daring Do, in all of her treasure hunting, adventuring glory, and the compass rose Cutie Mark, sandy brown coat, spiky grayscale rainbow mane and tail, magenta irises, green and tan pith helmet, and green vest all support that claim. She must be the one who had woken me up, and while I'm a little angry at her for that, I get over it, all the while suppressing the urge to fan-boy squeal. She is looking at me with curiosity in her eyes.

Another pony, the one pulling the ginormous wagon is a chocolate-brown Earth Pony stallion as muscular as Big Macintosh. He has a bright yellow short-cut mane styled like a mohawk and a medium-sized tail. His Cutie Mark is a yellow smiley-face, rolling pin, and egg whisk, styled in a skull-and-crossbones fashion. He looks at me like I was the freakiest thing on Earth... and maybe even with some pity thrown in that look, for he had probably been the one who commented on me receiving my eggs scrambled.

One more pony is a light orange unicorn mare with a slightly freckled face and a mane and tail that remind me of a blazing inferno. To back up that claim, her Cutie Mark is a small ball of fire. Around her neck are a pair of black reflective goggles that are styled in a steampunk-like fashion. Neon green eyes leered at me like I was something that needed to be eliminated. She must be the one who had called me ugly. I swallow nervously under her fiery gaze as a goofy smile gets plastered on my face. She only grits her teeth and narrows her eyes.

Aw, this can't be good.

The last one in the vicinity is a tall canine pulling the caravan with the Earth Pony. He is also about my height. After going through my knowledge of the show, I saw that he is a Diamond Dog. He has reddish-brown fur, with a light tan underbelly. He is wearing a duster jacket like me, but his is sleeveless and lacks a collar: in its place is a wide hood. A thin strip of brown cloth is around his waist over the jacket like a corsair sash, and a long, thin staff is in his hand. Tucked into the sash is a long black object shaped like a slightly curved dagger. His forearms are wrapped in a navy-blue cloth and have dark gray bracers on them. His eyes, black as the night air above me, gazes quizzically at me. Like he has no idea as to why I am here.

"Um... top o' th' evenin' to ya?" I say to them, the nervousness in my system steadily building up.

"'Ow's it goin', matey?" The chocolate-coated stallion asks happily. He gets out of the harness that tethers him to the Shagwagon and makes his way over to me. "Name's Coconut. Pleasure t' meet ya!" He sticks a hoof out so that I can shake it. I slowly accept the friendly gesture.

Note to self: Coconut has enough strength to rip off an arm if he isn't careful with his handshakes... hoofshakes... I don't care.

"Ow..." When Coconut lets go of my arm, I try shaking it to get the feeling back in it. "Pleasure t' meet'cha, too, Coconut. Name's Damien. Damien O'Connor. So who're your friends?"

"Oh! Right! That there's th' famous treasure-hunter Darin' Do." Coconut points at the Pegasus adventurer.

"How's it going?" Daring asks. Due to her tone, she's a tad nervous of my appearance, but she makes up for it in kindness and a small smile.

Fuck yeah.

Coconut continues. "That's me friend, Echo th' Diamond Dog." The hoof switches over to the bipedal canine. I wave at him.

"Hey, Echo." The Diamond Dog in question waves back, flashing his sharp teeth as he grins.

Not sure if badass or scary.

"That there's Ginger Snap." The chocolate hoof points at the light orange mare that had been glaring at me this whole time.

"Hey," I greet.

"Hi...." Her gaze didn't waver when she said that in an icy tone, despite her pryo-maniacal manner.

Quit mean-muggin' me, bitch!

"And that's Disarray." Coconut's hoof transitions towards the draconequus, who smiles nervously as he meets my eyes.

"Yeah, I know," I say, a hint of spite in my voice.

And so will my currently unborn children, you bastard...

"Er...heh-heh. Sorry about earlier," Disarray apologizes, holding out a bear paw to try and make amends.

"Eh... think nothin' of it," I grumble as I shake his paw. "So where're ya all headed?"

"Er... traveling," Daring answers. "Across the world actually."

"Huh... that sounds nice." I glance over at Ginger Snap. She had been leering at me the entire time, and other than "Hi", she still hasn't said a word. "What's eatin' you?" I ask.

"What the buck are you?" Why would you answer my question with another question?

"A Devil Imp." She still doesn't let up that glare of hers.

"Devil Imp?" Coconut says. "What's that, mate?"

I give them the loosest definition of a Devil Imp without telling them of the Internet source they derive from. Fortunately, they don't ask questions to know more about it.

"Cool story, bro. Tell it again," says Disarray. I look at him, wondering how he knows about that meme. But then again, draconequi are capable of Pinkie Pie powers, allowing them to break the fourth wall at will.

And funnily enough, though, my "cool story" took about only thirty seconds.

"Blimey," says Coconut. "Must b' nice bein' a Devil Imp, eh?"

Ginger scoffs before muttering, "Sure... if you think being a freak is nice...." I don't care that she tries to mutter it so I won't hear, nor do I care for the small chuckle she throws in afterward. I let the matter go...

But it requires every fiber of my being to resist bitchslapping her into oblivion.

Echo removes the harness of his burden. He then removes the black sickle-shaped tool from his sash, gets out a piece of paper from his duster pocket, and begins to write on it with the tool, like it's a pencil. When he finishes, he gets up from off the Shagwagon's porch and walks over to me before handing me the note. My eyes begin to adjust in the night's semi-blackness as I read his...

Equestrian paw-writing?

Indeed so. Rather than any language I can understand, Echo's words are the indecipherable equine tongue of Equestrian, comprised of horns, wings, horseshoes, and other hieroglyphs instead. "Er... I can't read this," I tell him. Echo raises a brow before snatching the paper back, blowing on it to remove the writing, and placing it on a raised leg before writing again. He returns the paper, this time with English on it.

'Wait, you can't read Equestrian?'

I nod dumbly at the skilled literature. How can a Diamond Dog, of all creatures, be able to learn both Equestrian and English? For starters, these gem-eating hounds are illiterate, and they're usually the kind to take anyone big and muscular into captivity, so any chance of taking literature classes with their pony prisoners is out of the question.

Plus, I'm not even sure if Diamond Dogs know that English exists, let alone if they can learn to read it and write in it. So how did-

...

Hold on...

"...A Diamond Dog, the silent protector of the people...."

Huh... so that explains it. But if that is the case, and Echo isn't a Diamond Dog at all, why is he silent? Did he just up and choose one day that he wanted to be a mute?

After looking at the hound's neck, I see that his choice to not speak isn't a choice at all. Along the esophagus is a vague pink scar that separates the fur. A thinner, black line runs in the middle of the scar, with minuscule holes dotting it on either side. He has had his vocal chords ripped out. Who or what the culprit is is a complete mystery to me, but that can only mean one thing.

Echo can't talk.

"Echo... what happened to your throat?"

"It happened in the Rainforest a few months back," Daring answers in his place. "I was running away from Ahuitzotl's big cats when he showed up. He tried offering me help, which isn't like a Diamond Dog at all. He tried fending off the cats to keep me safe, but he got his throat ripped out in the process. He's been silent ever since."

And so they inform me of their adventures, a spider's web of wonder being woven and spun by the arachnid of words. Daring saving Echo's life, him traveling with Daring to the Pyramid of Chaos, fighting Ahuitzotl in the Pyramid's crypts, finding Disarray, saving Daring's life by going to the town of Wethoof when she had contracted jungle fever, ever so slowly gaining the townsfolk's trust, discovering Tartarus, meeting a strange griffin pirate named Griffin, killing Ahuitzotl and the corrupt mayor Frost Snap, and finally ridding Wethoof of the Hydras that plagued the humble town for so long.

"Whoa..." I'm stunned by their endeavors. While they have had many problems back then, that doesn't stop them from succeeding in their mission.

"Say, ya wanna stay th' night, Damien?" Coconut asks.

I blink a couple of time in a confused response. "Uh... what?"

"You know," Disarray starts. "Sleep in the Shagwagon for tonight. Think about it as a way to make amends, eh?"

"Uh... alright, what the hell? Just for tonight, though." Everyone but Ginger smiles at the acceptance.

'Welcome aboard,' writes Echo. He walks over to the large caravan, opens the door, and motions for us to come inside.

,,,

Sweet.

Baby.

Luna.

It's bigger on the inside…

This dimensional anomaly becomes evident to me the minute I step inside. the interior blows me away from its size and cozy appearance. It's as large as a common room, longer lengthwise than width wise. There are even small rooms along the walls, three a side, more than enough for all of us. Scattered around a metal fire pit are several plush cushions. The small grating in the ceiling assures that any smoke will be well ventilated. Everything smells of freshly-cut wood and several spectacular chronicles that the five shared.

I whistle in a low tone at the incredible sight my eyes are graced with. "Whoa..."

"I take it you like our amazing vehicle?" asks Daring with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Like? Like? I love it!" So begins my extensive vocabulary and fanboy-squealing. "It's spectacular! It's riveting! It's marvelous!" Somebody, please hit me over the head with a crowbar before I go any further! "It's like those tents from the Harry Potter movies!" ...Damn it.

The three ponies only look at me like I said something weird. Disarray nods his assent, like he knows what I'm talking about; Hell, maybe he does know what I'm talking about. But Echo goes wide-eyed at my words. He pulls me to the side and starts writing furiously on another piece of paper with the black dagger.

'Do you like bananas?'

Er.

Mah.

Gerd.

He's a brony!

"That depends, Scooby-Doo." Echo flips me the bird at the dog name, but when he figures out what I'm getting at, his ears perk up, and he slowly starts to grin from ear to ear. "I don't always eat bananas, but when I do, I eat them ONNNNNN THE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNAH! BEEYYYYAAAAATCH!" I offer a half-extended fist, requesting a brohoof that he gladly gives me, the two of us laughing at the odds of our incredible encounter. Two bronies in Equestria, their physical aliases being that of the show or otherworldly aspects? I think I finally understand what Nut said when she told me there were others "just like me".

And now that this has happened, how many more bronies are out there?

"I didn't think there'd be more of us here in Equestria!"

'I didn't think so either until I met the pirate, Griffin.' writes Echo. Wait... what? A pirate that Echo mentioned is ALSO a brony? Normally I would be appalled, but this just gotten twenty percent cooler. This only confirms that there are indeed more of them out there.

We all spend the next few hours killing time, either telling one another jokes, stories, or them telling me about themselves. I learn about how Disarray is the son of Discord and Celestia, but he was abandoned by them a few millennia back. His parents' traits let him change between his preferred draconequus form and his Alicorn form; Ginger Snap is the daughter of Wethoof's corrupt and deceased mayor, Frost Snap, who had tried to have Echo killed, along with every Diamond Dog he laid an eye on, because of the unfortunate loss of Ginger's mother in a Diamond Dog cave, when Frost battled the Greenclaw tribe alpha, Mosspaw; Coconut is Wethoof's best chef, and is one of the first few to welcome Echo with open forelegs; Echo himself doesn't really have much to say about himself, but aside from how Discord is responsible for his existence in Equestria, he informs me (through writing and charades) of what he did in Equestria, from meeting Daring to his recent travels... unfortunately, he also tells me about his wierd dreams involving him rubbing a cheeseburger on his nipples; and while I already know who Daring Do is - unbeknownst to her - she still tells me anyway about the many adventures she had and the several books she wrote that told her spectacular tales.

However, I have a little bit of trouble believing that her pith helmet helped her in escaping a room filling with quicksand, spiked walls that were closing in on her, and venomous snakes and spiders, all the while tied down by strong rope to a stone altar.

The hours speed by, like an hourglass with a wider middle. After checking my iPhone in secrecy - for fear of having the trio of equines lose their shit at Earth's advanced technology - I discover that it was two o'clock in the morning. I announce this to the ones taking me in for the night. They go wide-eyed at how quickly the time had raced by before deciding to turn in for the night.

But when I get up to head to the third room on the right, the only vacant room on the Shagwagon, I felt someone poke my shoulder. I turn around to see Echo with another note. 'Can I ask you for a favor?'

"Alright, man. What is it?"

'You know how I'm dating Daring, right?' I nod. 'Well, it's going to be Daring's birthday tomorrow. Well, technically, it's today. And I want to do something special for her. Do you think you can help me out?'

It takes a while to figure out what I can do to ease Echo's romantic qualms. But luckily, when I give him the answer, his slightly worried look melts away. "Just leave it t' me!" I assure him. He smiles and nods his thanks, and with that, everyone on board the Shagwagon turns in for the night. I open the door to the room and walk towards the bed in the corner, taking my duster, scarf, and undershirt off and dropping them on the ground. I deposit all my possessions at the foot of it before getting in and wiggling under the covers to get comfortable. I sigh in content with how plush the mattress is and how warm the blanket is on me.

Yet, try as I might, slumber's claws fail to pull me under. Tossing and turning in the attempts to sleep, it is all for naught.

I sigh in frustration. "This's going to be a long night...."

Shadow: Congrats, Rust! (Well, I think that's what you should say to an esteemed author....) Echo, Coconut, Ginger, Daring, and Disarray are in the fic! I don't know if you will like it or not, but if you noticed anything wrong with this chapter, please let me know and I'll correct it post-haste.

Next chapter will be up soon, God willing. So sit tight and be right there.

All the best,

~S.W.

VI - Happy Birthday

Shadow: I decided to revise the chapters slightly so that the tale is told in the present tense rather than the past tense. Sorry about the inconvenience, and I hope this A/N clears up any confusion.

Also, I threw in some references during the creation of this chapter for fun. Can you find EACH AND EVERY ONE?

Leather-Winged Oddity

VI - Happy Birthday

What is love?

Usually, when that question is asked, anyone with a good sense of humor would retort with a "Baby, don't hurt me no more", and a typical brony would ask Princess Cadance on the mattter.

But alas, I am in no mood to be singing Haddaway's fantastic line at the time... and sadly, there is no Princess Cadance at my side right now.

Good thing too, otherwise Shining Armor would think that I had kidnapped her.

I know what love is, in terms of definition: it's an emotion of a strong affection and personal attachment, and it is also a virtue representing all of kindness, compassion, and affection, or the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another. Love may describe actions towards others or oneself based on compassion or affection.

Yet with that in mind, I begin to ponder... what forms do love come in?

Many foolhardy people would like to think that love comes in many forms and shapes. But I, and a select few others, believe that love can only be used in two senses: a platonic sense and a romantic sense, even though I have not experienced the latter. Yet while I would like to undergo adoration in that form, I preferred to love someone or something in a platonic way.

However, I'm not here to talk about me.

After many futile attempts at getting to sleep, I give up on even trying. I get up, throw the covers off, and leave the room I was resting in. I need air, for it usually clears my mind. I quietly step out of the massive interior of the Shagwagon and into the cool night air. Its brisk feel on my skin and sharp scent in my nose rejuvenate me as I flap my wings and fly up to the top of the caravan.

But rather than being in my lonesome, I see somepony else on the top of the Shagwagon. Ginger Snap is laying on the roof with her front hooves behind her head, staring up at the stars, their bright shine reflecting off of her sharp neon green eyes.

"I take it ya can't sleep either?" I say. Ginger jumps, but when she sees it's only me, she relaxes and nods, yet with a frown on her face.

"Nope," she replies.

"Hmm." I shrug my shoulders and take a seat next to her. "How'd you get up here?"

"Levitated myself up here." Was it me, or did she say that a little too quickly?

"Ahh. I see." A few moments pass after I make that sentiment.

"I don't like you. Never have, and probably never will," she finally says.

"I don't give a crap. Never have, and probably never will," I snap. Ginger looks a little mad by my simple truth and me imitating her. I really don't care.

...OK, so maybe I lied about not caring. But she doesn't have to know, right? Otherwise, I'd never hear the end of it.

"Aren't ya gonna get mad or something?" she asks.

"Hell, nah. I've come across your type before: the rude type, always judging somebody by their appearance and their race. I guess that's why most ponies like you are always racist."

Ginger gets more upset once I call her out. "I'm not raci-!" I shoot her a skeptical look before she can finish. "Oh, who am I kidding?" I chuckle at her sentence transition. She starts laughing with me for a while, but we both stop a few seconds later. Before long, we are deeply submerged in a silence so powerful, one could hear a pin drop from a yard away.

"Ever wondered how Luna creates such a beautiful scenery in the sky at night?" I ask, breaking the ice. I only inquire this because of what I see in the moon: a lunar lantern, and the stars that gleam and illuminate Gaia are like stationary fireflies.

"She uses her magic, duh," Ginger answers snidely. I laugh a little bit more.

"No, I don't mean that: I mean at how each and every single star shines like a diamond, while the moon acts like some sort of... silent witness to everything that happens from the smallest deed to the most heinous crime."

"What are you getting at?" She asks.

"This sky, gorgeous as it is, isn't the same one that I knew and loved for the past twenty-two years of my life."

"What do you mean?"

"Ginger, don't play The Dumbass Game with me, please," I tell her. She raises a brow at my remark, but she smirks, showing that she is indeed fooling around with me... Not like that! "What I mean is that I can never go back to my planet ever again."

"So you're not from Gaia, huh?"

"Gee, what gave it away?" I question sarcastically. She giggles a bit. "Was it these big-ass wings?" I point at my flight appendages. "Or these huge Chocobo feet?" I wiggle my avian claws. Even though Ginger doesn't know what a Chocobo is, she laughs harder. It's my turn to raise a brow.

Ginger stops laughing a few seconds later, when the same thing I'm thinking hits her as well.

"Damien, we're not becoming friends, are we?" She asks in mock disgust.

"Oh, dear God, I hope not," I say in the same tone she used. We laugh again. "But now that you mention it... I guess you're not that bad of a pony after all."

"Thanks, I guess?" Ginger says. "And if it counts for anything... I don't think you're that bad of a... erm...."

"Person?" I fill in the blanks for her.

"...I knew that." Cue the laughter.

"Let's just go to bed. It's still pretty late, and we wanna get up pretty early for Daring's birthday, right?" I tell her. Ginger nods. I get off the roof of the Shagwagon and land almost silently on the grass, despite my non-usage of my wings: maybe Devil Imps and Angel Imps are extremely lightweight, like Pegasi. But when I land, I don't hear a thump next to me that signifies Ginger landing on the ground. When I look up, I see her looking down at the ground with wide eyes and tiny irises. Now I understand why she was so quick to answer my question about how she got up there. Since she was prideful, she didn't want to tell me she climbed up manually rather than with magic; now, she was stuck, due to her fear of heights.

But then again, she did fall down a massive and seemingly-bottomless chasm into Tartarus, so I guess I can understand her predicament. "Need some help?" I ask.

"No, I've got this," she replies.

"Bullshit, you didn't convince me!"

"I've got this, darn it!"

"Aha-haaaa- no, ya don't." I hold my arms akimbo. "Jump and I'll catch ya." Ginger shakes her head. "C'mon, you stubborn lady." She shakes her head again. I face-palm so hard, I actually whimper from the pain. "Oh, Goddamnit...." I fly up, and grab her around the midriff. She squeaks and begins kicking and flailing as soon as she's off the roof.

"Let me go!" she shouts in my face. I have to shush her and squeeze to get her to quiet down.

"Trust me, this is safe!" I tell her as I start lowering myself.

"Why the buck would you think this is safe?!" she whisper-shouts. I stop in mid-descent, my lips curling into a large, wry smile as I look at her through the corner of my eyes. She gets the message immediately. "Y... you wouldn't."

"Oh, would I, now?" Before she can even retort, I shoot up into the sky, beating my wings as hard as possible to get extra speed. She begins screaming as loud as she could. I almost drop her from how earsplitting of a volume her banshee-like shrieks are. After reaching two hundred meters above sea level, I throw her up into the sky with as much force as I could muster. She gets up a good fifty meters before she comes back down. I fly upside-down, my head pointing at the ground, with her in front of me as she still screams her head off. "Hey, how ya doin'?!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

"Me, too! It's such beautiful weather tonight!" What? I'm trolling her, shut up. Right before we collapse, I grab hold of her again and turn my flight path by ninety degrees before we splatter into the grass below, my back facing the ground, now parallel with it. Ginger grips onto me for dear life. I right myself and slow down to a halt, finally landing softly on the grass below.

I set Ginger down on the ground and step back a few inches. Good thing, too, because, she spins around and tries to buck me in the chest with her back hooves. "YOU JERK!"

I move quickly and place a hand on her mouth to quiet her. "Shut up! People are sleeping!"

"MPH DPMH CRMPH, YMPH BMPHMPH TRMPHM!"

"Run that by me again, lassy?" I remove my hand from her mouth.

"I don't care, you bucking turd!" she reiterates in a loud whisper. "You almost got me killed!"

"Ah... but I didn't. I told ya to trust me, and instead, ya lashed out aggressively. If I wasn't someone to trust, I'd've let ya fall to your death. But I didn't." Ginger blinks a few times at what I had told her. She sighed in resignation.

"I guess you're right...." Ginger says. "Sorry for trying to kick you."

"And sorry for doing that to ya, lass," I apologize. "It won't happen again."

I LIED!

"Let's just go inside, OK?" I finish.

"...Alright." We go back to the Shagwagon and step inside, thanking God or Celestia that neither Echo, Daring, Coconut, nor Disarray are awake. "Damien?"

"Yeah?"

"Despite the fact that you scared the crud outta me... that was actually kinda fun." I see a little smile emerge on her face. "Good night, Damien," Ginger tells me before she goes to her room. I smile a bit before she leaves the common room.

"Good night, Ginger."

The Next Morning

I awake to the sun hitting me in the eyes through the lone window in the room. It's a marvel at how the sun's rays are accurate, even in another universe. I can't help but think that if Princess Celestia knows of my existence, then she's probably doing this to me on purpose.

Nothing says "I love annoying the shit out of you" other than a rude solar awakening from everybody's favorite trolling Alicorn, eh? And I say favorite trolling Alicorn because I'm sure she's the only trolling Alicorn... unless she's suddenly decided to take Luna under her wing. Then she's just doomed us all, and she knows it, too.

"Damn sun... go away, no one likes ya..." I get out of bed and reorder the sheets and covers to their former glory. I riffle through my bag to find some toothpaste and a toothbrush: at least Nut has some concern for my hygiene. I throw on my undershirt, scarf, and jacket before I head out into the common room. The Shagwagon's five crew members greet me, and I them. Once I tell Daring Do happy birthday, I ask the crew if there's a bathroom onboard. Sadly, when I discover that no such thing exists aboard the caravan, I step out of the monster truck of a wagon and fly up high, my tools of oral hygiene in hand. I spot a small pond about a few meters away and fly to it, prepping for the day.

Once finished with grooming and cleaning myself, I return to the Shagwagon, yet I hesitate when I try to open the door. I mentioned to Echo the previous night that my gift to Daring was a two-piece. One piece of it would be for the evening. But the other piece... well, I don't see any harm in doing it now, right?

I heard tales - actually, that's a lie, no such tales of what I will discuss exist. I played Gaia Online long enough to know that Devil Imps and Angel Imps have two forms: the human state I'm in now, and another state.

I screw my face up in concentration as I tried to perform this said state. I shut my eyes and growl in exertion. "Hnnnnnnnnnnnng." Nope.

"Hnnnnnnnnnnnng!" Damn it. Still nothing.

"HNNNNNNNNNNNNG!!!" Not only did it not work, but I think I almost shat myself from the strain.

It's been three minutes since I considered transforming, and that still hasn't happened! C'mon, damn it, why won't it work!?

"HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN--" *POOF*

Whoa... did it work?

I think so, because a cloud of white smoke erupts out of nowhere. Once the cloud dissipates, I look down and see that the grass is indeed much closer than I thought. I tried wiggling my claws, yet I couldn't: it was like they had been removed. Same predicament with my arms, although I did feel something move above where my arse should be. I look around and find a long black devil tail laying in the grass next to me. I could still flap my wings and fly, so that's good. I get some air and fly to the pond where I brushed my teeth.

Whoa... it actually worked.

I'm not in a human form anymore. In order to help you get a better understanding of what I have become, imagine a little black plush thing that's about the size of a football and is slightly blob-shaped, has a long tail, all-red anime eyes, and smaller devil wings.

"Whoa..." I mutter. I blink a couple times at how differently my voice sounds. I sound like I belong in Alvin and the Chipmunk's music group, but I got kicked off because of my accent. That doesn't bode well with me at all... the first part, not the second. "This is bullcrap!" I shout in my squeaky voice, upset that it sounds like that.

Now, let me take a minute just to say that while I am annoyed my voice took a turn for the prepubescent, the overall effect is very kawaii.

But enough about me. I have a birthday to celebrate and a birthday girl... birthday mare... to entertain.

Once I master the art of using my tail, which took about five minutes of my time, I return to the Shagwagon and used my tail to turn the handle on the door and open it so that I can fly inside.

Oh, and did I mention that everyone inside flipped out a bit with they saw a winged and tailed black blob flying into the room singing happy birthday?

No? Well, joke's not on you, it actually happened.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!" I sing. "HAPPY BIRTHD--"

*WHACK!*

...God, do you think that me getting hit all the time is a funny joke?

Apparently so. To Him, it's like watching a clown car catch fire, with the occupants still inside.

I only say this because Coconut exclaims in surprise at my sudden appearance and decides to go all Muhammad Ali on me by launching a right hook shot at me. The hoof connects with my face and sends me flying into the wall. Sadly, being this form of an Imp requires energy and mana, the latter being something I have little of. The second I slump down to the floor, I return to my human form with a small poof and a cloud of white smoke, my nose bleeding from how strong Coconut's swing was.

"Oh, Celestia! Damien!" Coconut shouts in concern and worry once he discovers it's me. "I'm so sorry, mate!"

"Aah!" I put my nose into my scarf to staunch the blood flow. "Coconut, ya rat bastard! That hurt!" Echo comes over to help me to my claws, all the while laughing at my reaction. I pull the scarf off of my nostrils to reveal... black blood? No, that can't be right. But when I put a finger to my nose and pull away, I see that my nose was indeed leaking blood as dark as night.

"What the hell...?" I mutter before putting my stained scarf back to my nose to siphon the ink-like blood.

"Are you alright, Damien?" Daring asks me, trying to hold back fits of laughter from the scene that had unfolded before her only seconds ago. Ginger was laughing as well, but she did her best to stifle it as well.

But Disarray?

"BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAAAAAAAAA!"

Tickling him with several big feathers won't get a reaction like that out of him.

Once the blood on my nose is staunched, I try again with singing the happy birthday in my kawaii blob form, with much adoration from both Daring and Ginger. After that's out of the way, Coconut prepares a cake for Daring from the cooking materials he brought from Wethoof. Once the cake is obliterated by our many empty bellies, I tell Daring about a second piece to my birthday gift, one that would be performed for her at sunset.

"Bow-chicka-wow-wow~" Disarray croons, taking my telling her I'd give her a gift at sunset the wrong way. Everyone on board shudders when we get the reference.

"Wait, what?" I begin. "EEWWWW, no!"

When that chaotic camaraderie Disarray pulled out is over, we all treat ourselves to few birthday party games, like Pin the Tail on the Pony, Align Five - which, believe it or not, is a lot like Connect Four, and a few card games that Echo and I personally know, from poker to blackjack to even three-card monte.

Time, during those moments, does what it usually does best: speed up.

The sky, once a joyous blue from this morning, now emulates a vibrant orange hue as the sun travels across the sky and finally reaches its destination at the horizon. We all step outside and take a seat in the grass outside the Shagwagon. We stare at the sunset before us, watching the large ball of burning gas slowly descend out of sight. I feel someone nudge me in the ribcage. I look to my left and see Daring Do with a smile. "Aren't you forgettin' something?"

Oh, yeah!

I jump to my claws and walk over to Disarray, quickly whispering in his ear for certain instruments. The draconequus snaps his bear fingers, and two violins and a cello appear out of nowhere, hovering a few meters above the ground. He gives a violin to me, all the while taking the second violin in his bear paws and the cello in his lobster claws. Disarray wiggles his snout, letting the mustache flutter slightly. I hear another pop and two seats appeared right behind us. We take our seats and hold the instruments the way they were meant to be held.

"You guys ready for the second piece of the birthday part?" I ask them. They don't hesitate in nodding. "Ya know what song we're doing, Disarray?"

"Eeyup."

"Good. A-one. A-two. A-one, two, three."

Disarray started off the song by stroking the cello's strings with the bow in his right lobster claw, the left one tickling and tensing the strings at the neck of the cello. After ten seconds, I proceeded to play my violin, hoping that my lessons will pay off in this endeavor. Echo prodded Daring with a finger-like digit and held out his paw to her. The adventurous Pegasus smiled before placing her hoof in his palm. The two stood up and danced.

(Damien)

The book of love is long and boring

No one can lift the damn thing

It's full of charts and facts and figures,

And instructions for dancing.

But I

I love it when you read to me

And you

You can read me anything.

(Disarray)

The book of love has music in it

In fact, that's where music comes from

Some of it's just transcendental

Some of it's just really dumb

But I

I love it when you sing to me

And you

You can sing me anything

Coconut walks over to me, nudges me in the hip, and points at Ginger Snap sitting on the grass, a little sad smile on her face. "Go get 'er, matey," he told me. "I'll take it from 'ere."

"Ya know how to play?" Coconut nods. Once he takes control of the musical reigns, I quickly stride over to Ginger, who raises an eyebrow when I extend my hand towards her.

"What're you doing?" She asks.

"Well, a pretty lass like you shouldn't be alone when others're dancing, eh?" Ginger's cheeks burn at my remark, and she suppresses an embarrassed smile. She slowly puts her hoof in my hand and I hoist her up to her two back hooves to my eye level as she and I smoothly slow dance to the music that Echo and Daring groove to, all the while Ginger is smiling warmly at me.

(Coconut)

The book of love is long and boring

And written very long ago

It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes

And things we're all too young to know

But I

I love you when you give me things

And you

You ought to give me wedding rings

And I

I love it when you give me things

And you

You ought to give me wedding rings

The music undergoes a slight decrescendo.

(Coconut and Disarray)

You ought to give me wedding rings....

In that moment, I knew what love is. It wasn't just about being in a romantic relationship with someone, or simply having a friendly, platonic friendship with someone. Instead, it could be anything. Family, friendship, relationship, marriage: these are just one of the many few examples of how love is distributed and transmitted between others.

Once the song ends and our dancing slows to a halt, Daring, Echo, and Ginger applaud for me, Coconut, and Disarray. We three take a slow bow, appreciating the positive feedback from the others. Disarray clicks his lobster claws thrice, and the chairs and instruments disappear with another poof.

"Thanks so much, you guys, for letting me stay here for the night."

'Think nothing of it, man,' Echo scrawls into a sheet of paper with his large claw, which I know that it is such a thing because of last night... NOT LIKE THAT!!!

"I'm gonna get my stuff and I'll be out of your hair." I go inside the Shagwagon and to the room I was staying in to get my backpack and sword...

One problem though: My sword isn't a sword anymore.

Yes, that may sound incomprehensibly stupid coming from a college student that gets A's and B's in his classes, but I kid you not: My sword has become something else entirely. In Nightlock's place stands a six-foot tall scythe. The shaft is shaped in a slight meandering bend like a scythe should be, and is crafted out of pure black metal. Red and gold slightly tattered cloths are wrapped around most of the shaft's middle, where one is supposed to grip it, and a bit of both cloths trail out lazily at the bottom of their wraps. At the top of the shaft is a black diamond-shaped onyx gem the size of my fist. The blade is in the shape of a dragon's wing and is about four feet long, also black as well, with gray edges, signifying its devastating sharpness.

Despite this incredible transformation of my weapon, what strikes me as odd is that there is a note attached to the handle. I scoop the note into my hand and read it.

'Made some changes to your weapon, both physical and magical. Also, don't call it Nightlock: it's just a stupid name for poisonous berries that come from a trilogy of books about a girl who started a rebellion.

Think of it as an early/late birthday present. Enjoy!

~D'

D? Who signs their note "D"?

And who the hell changed my weapon!?

As I step outside the caravan, I go over the possibilities. My name starts with a "D", but I'm not stupid enough to change my own tool of murder. Daring Do isn't capable of changing an item's form.

That only leaves one person...

"Disarray!"

Or shall I say, draconequus?

"What the hell, brah?!"

"Ah, I see you found your new toy!" The draconequus in question says ecstatically.

"Dude, not cool, man," I admonish. "Why would ya go and do that?"

"I got a little bored this early morning," he retorts boringly.

"And ya didn't even bother asking me?" I deadpan.

"Nnnope." Damn him and his perfect Big Mac impersonation! Does he even know Mac exists?!

"You suck, man... also, what did ya mean when ya wrote, 'Magical changes'"? I ask.

"Simple. I just made it sharper, larger, and more magically adept than that toothpick you call a sword."

"What do ya mean?"

"It can now cut gemstones like butter if you give this puppy a good swing. Only thing it can't cut are black dragon scales, which are tougher than diamonds. As for magically adept... hmm... try, for example, to get rid of it and make it come back. Like, throw it away, or wish it gone, or something."

"Umm...." I'm at a loss of words. Whatever Disarray's cooked up might not be a good idea: what does he mean by 'get rid of it and make it come back?'. But I might as well humor him. I hold the scythe at the lower ends of its wrappings and throw it as hard as I could away from the crowd, towards the north, at a small trio of shrubbery and two boulders. I heard a strange whistling sound as the weapon spun in the air, and the three bushes and duo of large rocks that are in the vicinity were cut clean, even though the scythe's blade didn't come into contact with them, like the sharpness of it has made the air itself as fatal as razors slicing down a human's wrist.

What strikes me with awe is that the blade has not even fallen victim to gravity's everlasting pull. It just... floats... like a leaf in the wind. Or a phantom in the night.

Against my better judgement and rationality, I stick out my hand and will the polearm to come back to me.

Once again, I had no idea what I was in for.

The scythe's flight path changes in mid-travel, arcing like some sick rendition of a rainbow, and comes back to me as quick as a whip, still spinning like a massacring top. Behind me, I hear Daring and Ginger scream and Coconut exclaim.

"SHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-!!!" I shut my eyes and turn my head away, my hand still open and outstretched as I await the inevitable...

...that didn't come.

I feel a pressure force itself into my open palm, as well as something... something else. I crack open an eye and look at my right hand. In it is the scythe, held in an inverted fashion with the blade facing away from me as the red and gold cloths flutter in the wind.

"What the hell...." I mutter, my hands quaking from the fear of death. My right fist still grasps the scythe, my knuckles going wide from how tightly I was gripping it.

"Well, it actually works," Disarray chortles, using his left lobster claw to wipe a tear of mirth from his left eye. "Who'd've thunk it?"

"That's not funny, man!" I yell. "I almost died!"

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Why, though?! How did it come back to me?!"

"Well, in order for it to come back to you, I had to take some DNA from you, and imbue it into the scythe."

"DNA?"

"I stole some fingernail clippings from you." I look down at my hands and sure enough, I see the fingers on both my left hand and my right hand are trimmed of their fingernails.

"Jesus Christ, you're a stalker." I suppress a shudder at this creepy realization.

"No, I'm not. But that's not the point," Disarray pressed on. "The point is is that that scythe is bound to you and you alone. Now that you have gotten the hang of throwing the scythe and calling it back, let's try another approach."

"Such as?"

"Wishing it away." I blink at the draconequus's words. Wishing it away?

"What." I deadpan.

"Try to... oh, make it disappear."

"Easier said than done, lad."

"Just do it!"

"Okay, fine! Christ...." I concentrate on the scythe, trying to will away with it. At first, nothing happens...

Oh, who am I kidding? Nothing happens after the first ten minutes. Even after the sun sets below the horizon and ushers in the night, not a single thing happens.

"This is boring," Ginger mutters. Despite her comment, I still try to 'wish' the scythe away. I stare at it for the longest time, with a stare that could eviscerate metal.

But I didn't expect it to briefly flash white and disappear in the blink of an eye.

"Ah!" I jump back at what had happened. I turn to Disarray and see him snickering into his right bear paw at my exclamation. "What happened?!"

"You merely banished it into the Abyss."

"...Abyss?" The more the draconequus spoke, the more confused I get.

"The Abyss is where several items that are banished into nonexistence go when they're... well, banished into nonexistence."

"So how do I get it back?"

"Simple, just wish it back like you wished it away."

"Is this gonna take longer?" I ask in an irritated tone.

"No, no, no," Disarray assures me. "Now that you've gotten it right the first time, it should take a little less time to recall it."

True to his words, the scythe reappears only seven minutes later, three less than before. "Niiiice...." I say, a smirk on my face.

"Thank you, you're too kind." Disarray takes a bow. I roll my eyes. "So have you thought of a name for it?"

"Nah, lad. I can't say I have."

"Well..." Disarray twirled his mustache with a lobster claw as he contemplated what to christen the blade. "How about... 'Ellipsis'?"

I blink a few times. Ellipsis? "Why Ellipsis?"

"Why not? It's a cool name for a scythe like that."

"Ellipsis...." I banish the rechristened weapon into the Abyss, taking only five minutes of my time this time. I turn to all five members of the caravan and bid them good-bye.

'See you around, man,' Echo scrawls. I shake his paw.

"Bye, Echo. Enjoy your pursuit o' life, liberty, and lulz galore."

"Bye, mate! We'll see ya soon!" Coconut says as he shakes my hand again, almost risking to cut off the blood flow to my whole right arm once more.

"Bye, Coconut. I'm gonna miss ya and your amazing cooking."

"Good-bye, Damien," Daring says before flying up and hugging me tightly. "Thanks for making this birthday one of the best ones I've had in a long time."

"Think nothin' of it, lass," I tell her. She removes herself from me before I turn to Ginger.

"Bye, Damien," she murmurs. I shake her hoof, but then think better of it and pull her in for a tight hug. She's taken by surprise by the action, yet she returns the hug with great gusto.

What comes next is also completely unexpected.

Ginger pulls her head away from off my shoulder and pecks me on the cheek. The spot where her lips contacted the flesh burns pleasantly, like someone had lit a warm fire next to me.

When she separates herself from me, I see her cheeks turn red as she blushes vigorously. I unwillingly follow her example and feel my cheeks burn red like fire.

"Daaaaaaamn, Connor-dawg! Nice work on gettin' that tail!"

Note to self: Draconequi like to think that they're black. I face-palm at Disarray's exclamation. "Lad, we were havin' a moment, damn it." Regardless, I ought to thank him for what he's done for me. I shake his bear paw. "But still, thanks for Ellipsis, man."

"Think nothing of it, Damien," Disarray assures. "We'll meet again someday."

"Also, I've been meaning to ask ya, what's with the gem at the top of Ellipsis's shaft?"

"Oh, you'll see in due time." Disarray steps back from me. I look at the five chroniclers and flash a smile their way.

"I will never forget your hospitality, guys. Take care."

"And we won't forget you, either," Daring says. "Safe travels, Damien!" They wave at me as I turn around and run in the direction of the Great Southern Rainforest.

Canterlot can wait.

Right now, I have a genocidal enigma to solve and an adventure waiting for me.

VII - Companion

Leather-Winged Oddity

VII - Companion

‘“Also, I've been meaning to ask ya, what's with the gem at the top of Ellipsis's shaft?"’

‘"Oh, you'll see in due time.”’

Those words ring in my head like church bells as I traverse across the Great Southern Rainforest in the hopes to find out who had massacred that entire clan of cat-people.

Every single jungle, be it miniscule or monolithic, is teeming with danger. Toxic plants like Nightshade and Poison ivy, deadly predators and animals such as snakes and large hunting felines, and environmental traps like quicksand and unseen cliffs.

The Great Southern Rainforest is no exception.

To avoid getting caught by Diamond Dogs or running into any vegetation that could endanger my life, I fly high above the treetops, letting me both get a view below me and clear skies to soar in. But after about ten minutes in, I feel my wings beginning to ache from how hard I’ve been exerting them. I land down in the trees and do what I did the last time I came here: free run.

Despite the occasional tree branch whipping my face, I feel good doing this form of activity. It helps let my wings take a break, and it’s much better than running on the forest floor.

Sadly, as I run, I lose my footing on a tree branch and plummet to the ground like a stone in water.

“FFFFFUUUU- OW!”

Dirt never tastes good. Just want you to know.

I pick myself up off of the ground and dust off all the dirt on my clothes and on my face. Once done with getting the dirt out of my brows and small goatee, I trek on to the small village of those cat-people. I hear a wolf howl in the distance, and fear takes control of me for a split second. I shake off this feeling of apprehension and, for added measure, I pull out Ellipsis from the Abyss. In a flash of light, the scythe appears in my hand a minute later and I hold it securely, my knuckles going white from how hard I was gripping it. While there may not be danger now, that doesn’t mean that there won’t be danger-

*RUSTLE RUSTLE!*

...later on.

…Lord, please let that rustling sound be my jimmies.

At that ridiculous thought of desperation, the head of an individual pops out of the shrubbery to my right. It was another cat. Judging by her facial features and eye shape, I can only guess this cat is a female. Yet unlike the gold fur of the last cats I saw two nights back, she has black fur with four white stripes and a white lower half of her face, which I assume leads to an underbelly of the same color. Her eyes, instead of royal blue, are a shining hazel.

A lightning bolt strikes across the sky, lighting up the entire environment. In the brief illumination, she sees me. With a small gasp, she hops out of the bushes and runs away down whatever beaten path have been made by the hooves and paws of many that have passed through this jungle.

“Wait!” I call out to her as I run after her, doing all that I can to make sure she doesn’t leave my proximity in this dark jungle. “I’m not gonna hurt ya, lass!”

Oh, sure, just go ahead and say that with a fucking scythe in your hands, you moron.

I shake my head at my idiocy and send Ellipsis back into the Abyss. With the weapon now gone, I am no longer weighed down by it, thus giving me a bit more speed.

“Please! Hold on! I promise I won’t hurt ya!” The environment is so dark that I barely avoid running into the trees or boulders that stand in my way.

She risks to turn her head and look at me through the corner of her eyes. Those orbs of mixed chocolate and mint practically pierce me like a needle through cloth. She turns her head forward and starts slowing down when she reaches a clearing only a minute later. I follow her example and stand behind her at the clearing.

But we didn’t only reach such a thing. Instead, we are at the outside of another village.

This one is like the other I had seen, sans the wreckage and carnage that had ensued. This village might even be a little larger than the other, probably housing twenty or thirty more. Torches are lit at the village’s perimeters and on the village paths, each torch separated by five feet of space. The village seems... a bit more civil and advanced than the other. There is a shaman’s hut for healing purposes, training grounds, a school for children, a mess hall, two watchtowers, and, in the far off distance, I think I even see a little worshipping ground, like a church or a synagogue, with a flagpole.

The cat I have been chasing turns around to face me. I blink in surprise when the light from one of the torches throws her figure into relief. She’s as tall as I am, and rather well-shaped in both her curves and her athleticism. Unlike the other tribe of cat-people, with their tunics and pants/skirt, this one is dressed... what’s the word, scantily? I presume this word to be correct because the cat dons a tied green cloth around her chest, with a twist in the middle, like a bra, and the skirt is instead a pair of green loincloths to cover herself. She has a beaded necklace like the other cat-people, but she has many gold piercings on her ears. I even spot a gold piercing on her navel.

But in a ring-like scabbard on her left hip was a large sword, shaped like an Egyptian khopesh, but with a more wicked curve, like a hook. And her paw was right on it.

OK, multiple piercings, large-ass sword. She probably got scared when she saw me, but she might have reinforcements in the village, so she might find strength in numbers like a changeling would. While I do have a murderous scythe, I must try the diplomatic, docile approach. Ergo, take caution and do not provoke her.

“Er... top o’ th’ evenin’ to ya?” I say nervously.

The cat-woman removes her paw from the sword’s handle and offers it to me. “Hi,” She says in a calm voice. “I’m Kaileena. How’s it going?” She then flashes me a little smile.

Whoa. I did not see that coming.

I take the paw in my hand and shake it once. “Er... I’m Damien. Nice to meet you?”

“Damien...” Her hazel eyes roll up as she puts a paw to her chin. She then looks at me with another smile. “It’s a good name.”

“Er, thanks.” Kaileena looks at my talons and wings with wide eyes before looking back at me.

“Not to sound rude, but... what are you?” She asks.

“I’m a Devil Imp, which I think might be related to a harpy....” I answer. “Now, if ya don’t mind me askin’, what are you?”

“Tribe or species?”

“Eh. I’m not too picky.” Kaileena gives a small snort before pressing on.

”I have no idea what our species’ name is. It was lost long ago. But... me and this village’s occupants are the Urukai tribe.”

“And what does the tribe consist of?”

“Why are you asking me these questions?”

“Why did you answer my question with a question?”

Kaileena’s face goes blank before she points at me and says, “Oh, you’re good....”

I stifle my laughter. “Thanks. I try.”

“Well, we’re considered hunter-gatherers, and we’re considered a peaceful tribe, fighting only when necessary, but... since the fruit shortage and healing herbs are running low... we’re mainly looked upon as hunters now....”

“Interesting....”

“So what about you?” I raise a brow at Kaileena’s question. “What are the ‘Devil Imps’ like?” She moves her two digits on each hand-like paw to put the words in quotes.

“Honestly? I haven’t met any others like me yet. Now that I think of it, I think I might be the only one here.” Kaileena let out a low whistle.

“Damn. That must suck,” she comments. Now that I think of it... it kind of does. Do you know what it’s like to be the only species left in the world, perhaps the universe itself? It makes you feel... alone. Empty. And in that lonesome that you’re bubble-wrapped in, whatever hope you have that there’ll be more of you just... dies. Even with people around you, that same cold, depressing loneliness will still be there, just haunting you.

Because nothing sucks more than feeling all alone... no matter how many people are around.

“Ya don’t know the half of it,” I say morosely.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence pass before I speak again. “Why did ya run away from me, but stop when I promised I wouldn’t hurt ya?”

“I ran away from you because of your appearance. The flesh, the eyes, the wings, the talons, the scythe; but when you promised me that you wouldn’t hurt me... I dunno... I heard something... sincere in your voice, like you would keep that promise and never break it,” Kaileena explains. “Say... whatever happened to that scythe of yours?”

“Oh! You mean Ellipsis?” I ask her.

“Is that its name?” I nod. I concentrate and, once again, the scythe appears in my hands once more with another flash of light. Kaileena jumps and hisses at the weapon’s sudden appearance, waving her claw-bearing paw at it.

“How th-?!” She stops from how loud her question got. “How the heck did you do that?!” She demands in a whisper.

“I know a guy... ” I explain with subtlety. I hear several owls hoot, their calls reverberating through the rainforest. Another lightning bolt goes off several kilometers away, preparing to bring with it a light drizzle as the thunderclap runs throughout the forest to accompany the owls that hoot.

I also hear mine and Kaileena’s stomachs growling loudly with hunger. “Hehe... sorry about that. I haven’t eaten since this early afternoon.”

“It’s fine,” she says, her cheeks turning quite red from embarrassment. “Er... ya wanna come eat dinner with me?”

“Will it be alright with your folks and the villagers?”

“Eh. I don’t think they’ll mind too much... but you might wanna put your scythe away first, Damien.” I do as she asks, and the scythe once again goes back into the Abyss. Kaileena grabs my wrist with her paw and leads me through her village.

The village women and girls are dressed like Kaileena is, but the men and boys sport muscle shirts and shorts. Villagers of both sexes are either chatting with one another, tutoring their children in the training grounds on how to fight when it’s needed, or preparing dinner in the open-space mess hall, where Kaileena is leading me.

But when I walk in, the chatter and camaraderie stop, and the whole village is looking at me.

The eyeballs of several cat-people begin to make me feel incredibly uncomfortable as we reach the mess hall. Kaileena stops me and sits me down on the wooden platform of the mess hall, in front of a low-set rectangular table for six, and she then proceeds to sit next to me. The crowd around us begins murmuring in hushed tones to one another. Some of the villagers gaze at me with apprehension, some in wonder, and some in dislike.

Others decide that I’m unimportant and simply face the direction they’re sitting in.

“So what’s with all this sea of different looks?” I ask.

“You’re a newcomer, Damien,” Kaileena says. “Some of the villagers aren’t used to newcomers at all, because usually, they’re either Diamond Dogs rounding up slaves or other tribes that crave land or bloodlust... or both.”

“Yikes. Ever had that happen to your tribe?”

“A few times, but we manage to fend them off.”

“Also, speaking of bloodlust... I’ve been meaning to ask you if... you know of a tribe.”

“Sure. We know every tribe around here.”

“Well, then, can you tell me the name of that tribe that has gold fur and blue eyes?”

"Dude... we're colorblind."

"Crap... hang on, do you know that tribe that has a sacrificial alter in the middle of its village?" I wish I had not asked that, for Kaileena’s chill appearance takes a turn for the fearful as she looks at me.

“You... You’ve seen the Lacuni?” she asks in a hushed tone.

“Lacuni? Is that what they are?” Kaileena nods. “What’s wrong with them?”

“The Lacuni tribe is a tribe of raiders and pillagers. They go around, stealing land after land from the other tribes.”

“Then how did you manage to fend them off?”

“Remember, we fight only when necessary, and we’re darn good fighters.”

“Ah. I see.”

“But that’s not the only reason the Lacuni are hated and feared. They... rape and desecrate their prisoners for entertainment. Even worse, they sacrifice their tribe members and their prisoners to their gods, then eat their insides.” I shudder in disgust. “They are cannibalistic, plundering barbarians, and they show no mercy.” She then turns to me. “How did you survive them?”

“I didn’t. When I reached their village, they were all slaughtered one by one. But a lone, dying survivor told me who had done it: it was a woman they had captured. She resembled me, but she doesn't have wings, and she has feet where I have talons.”

“How did she do that?”

“I have no idea. Which is why I’m going to go there and find out.”

“You can’t go!” I hear a hint of desperation in her plea.

“Why not?” I inquire.

“Think about it: if the Lacuni, a tribe of deadly, raiding cannibals, were killed by one woman - who was their prisoner, might I add - then what do you think will happen to you if you go out there and find that woman? You’ll be killed!”

I wanted to protest... but Kaileena was right. This de-powered goddess of a woman must mean serious business, judging by the way Kaileena reasoned why I shouldn’t go. Hell, now that I think of it, if I so much as make fun of the ex-goddess, she’d probably Sodomize me with my own weapon faster than I can apologize.

“Alright... fine,” I surrendered. “I’ll stay. But I’m not gonna like it.”

“That’s the spirit,” she says. A cat-man walks up to the table we sit at, two bowls in his arms and one in his curled tail. He has a taller stature than Kaileena, and thin as well, yet with a hint of muscle and sinew one would expect from someone who exercises. To add emphasis to his appearance, an eyepatch, styled from cloth, was strapped over his left eye, and the fur under his chin was a bit longer than the others, somewhat like a beard.

“Hey, Kaileena. Who’s this?” He asks, with no hint of dislike in his tone, as he sits down and gives the bowls of food to me, him, and Kaileena.

“Oh, hi, Dad. This is Damien, a Devil Imp,” Kaileena says happily as she introduces me to... her father?!

“Er, it’s a pleasure to meet ya, sir,” I say as I shake his paw once.

“The name’s Akio. Nice to meet you, too,” The cat man says. “So how do you know Kaileena here?”

“I met her when I was walkin’ through the forest. I saw her in the middle o’ me travels, and she got scared. She probably thought I was goin’ t’ hurt her, so I followed her here,” I explain.

“Ah... I see,” Akio mutters. “Well, what are you waiting for? Have some food.” I look at the steaming bowl in front of me, and inside it is what appears to be some sort of stew. I grab the spoon that was in the bowl, scoop up the strange food, give it a quick blow to cool it down, and put it in my mouth.

Sweet.

Merciful.

God.

It’s... BEAUTIFUL!

The stew has a sort of tasteful tang to it, like some lemon juice and spices were used in the mix. The meat inside the stew is soft, chewy, and packed with flavor. Amongst the stew is a few of the sparse vegetables the Urukai could harvest: potatoes and carrots. The overall taste of the stew is one that could surpass even the most skilled of chefs.

As a matter of fact, I’m surprised I haven’t orgasmed yet from how delicious it is.

Before long, I destroy the entire thing. Akio’s eyes are wide as dinner plates at how quickly I had decimated the stew before me. Kaileena stifles a fit of snickering at my erratic behavior. All the others just stare at me.

“This is... amazing!” I exclaim quietly.

“Thanks,” Akio says. “I made it.” I look at him incredulously. This man... er, cat, made this food for the village?! This guy could probably make Gordon Ramsay his bitch.

“You made this? My God, this is incredible. How long have you been cooking for?” I ask. I’m a little envious of chefs like Akio: despite desiring a career as a psychiatrist, I’ve had to be a chef from time to time to help make ends meet at my apartment complex in Boulder. And while my cooking is only above par at best, it can never even hope to beat Akio’s skills, let alone be parallel with them.

“About... erm...twenty years, to be precise,” Akio answers. Twenty years of cooking this magnificent deliciousness?! Oh, forget making Gordon Ramsay his bitch, I’m pretty sure he butt-fucks him in front of his parents, and his parents pay him to do it!

I let out a low whistle at how long Akio had been using his paws to create master-level sustenance. Subsequently, another crack of lightning and clap of thunder rage across the forest, causing everyone in the vicinity to jump up in surprise. Not a moment later do I feel a droplet of rain land on me. And another. And another.

Before I know it, it starts to lightly drizzle on the Urukai village. Most of the villagers took their bowls of stew inside their huts to avoid ruining their food. Some with empty bowls collect the rainwater for later use. But in my retaliation to the raindrops, I shift my wings so that one of them is shielding Kaileena from the rain, and the other does likewise for me. “Akio, wanna come over?” I offer him the wing protecting me.

“Nope, I’ll be fine, Damien,” the cat man says. I retract my offered wing and reuse it to cover my head. “Besides, you two look pretty cute together....” He starts wagging his eyebrows. Me and Kaileena glance at one another and begin to blush viciously at Akio’s words.

“Lad, what the fuck’re ya talkin’ about?” I reason at him.

“Y-yeah, it’s not like that!” Kaileena backs me up. Akio only chuckles.

“Relax...” Akio assures us. He then looks at Kaileena with both a smirk and a raised brow. “Well? Aren’t you going to invite your boyfriend to stay with us tonight?”

“Sur-” Kaileena stops herself halfway through her sentence. “Hey! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“For the love of God, man, just stop with the shipping! Please!” I beg him. Akio laughs harder from his antics and walks away from the mess hall.

“What the heck is shipping?” Kaileena asks me once Akio is gone.

“Er... it’s when two people are in love and are in a relationship, hence the word ‘ship’ in both ‘relationship’ and ‘shipping’,” I tell her.

“That’s a lot of ships,” she deadpans.

“Too bad there’s no sea,” I retaliate. Kaileena laughs at my pun.

Holy fuck, I am smooth.

“Well.. er... do you want to come inside and stay the night?”

“You’re not falling for Akio’s trap, are you?” I ask.

Kaileena snickers and waves a paw. “No, it’s not that. It’s just... it is raining, after all.”

NO, I THOUGHT IT WAS SNOWING.

“And...” she continues. “It’d be rude of me to let a friend sleep out in the rain.”

That got me there. I haven’t had any friends since Marcus and Natasha, and the pain of not being able to see them again made me feel... depressed. Since I got here, Echo and his friends were the first few friends I had made in Equestria, and even then, who knows when I’ll ever see them again? Before I know it, we’ll drift away, like leaves in a tornado, going in different paths, probably never even getting close at all. Time and Fate are always cruel and fearful. Before long, I’m sure Marcus and Natasha will forget me. Hell, I’m pretty sure even the bullies are going to miss me and their paradigmatic routine of beating the tar out of me.

And what's even worse is that... maybe I'll forget them.

But I mustn’t ever look back on the past if I want to proceed on and life happily. I’ll find some way to communicate with Echo and the others. For now, I’ll take up Kaileena’s offer. “Sure,” I finally answer.

Kaileena smiles at my agreement. We both stand up and head towards her hut, my wings still guarding us from the rain’s ever-growing quantity and strength. She leads me to her family hut, opens the door, and walks in, with me following her afterwards. I close the door and take a look around.

The inside of the hut is a one-room interior. One large hammock comprised of rope and lined with animal hide sits in one side of the room, taking up a quarter of the space. Likewise for a hammock at the other end. A little window is in between these two hammocks. In the middle of the room is a large lantern of fireflies that partially illuminates the whole room. Underneath the window is a large pile of folded clothes inside a wooden box.

“This is a nice place,” I murmur.

“Glad you like it,” Akio says as he lays back in the hammock on the left side of the room. “You can share the other hammock with Kaileena tonight.” Me and the cat-woman in question look at Akio like he said something inconceivably stupid. “What? I kick in my sleep! That won’t be comfortable for either you or her!” He reasons.

“That’s still creepy, lad,” I tell him. Regardless, I slowly make my way to the hammock on the right side of the room and take a seat. The hide beneath me is soft and smooth, while the rope reinforcing it is strong and durable. I remove my backpack and place it on the ground. “But... you guys are offering me a place to crash for the night....”

“Damien, please don’t tell me you’re falling for my dad’s trap now,” Kaileena begs.

“‘Now?’ You’ve fallen for it before?” Kaileena glances back and forth, biting her lip as she tries to find a way to respond to my question without making her look like she has been suckered by one of Akio’s tricks.

“Well... um...”

“Yep!” Akio answers. Me and Kaileena fire menacing glances at him simultaneously. He shrinks back into his hammock. “OK, I won’t talk anymore,” he sighs in defeat.

“Thank you,” we deadpan. I lay back, taking care not to slash the animal hide with my talons.

Kaileena sighs in both defeat and frustration. “Oh, dear gods, I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she grumbles. She walks over and lays down next to me, her head resting on my wing. “Move your ass, I need some room,” she demands. Akio chortles a bit.

“Whatever you say, lass.” I move over a few inches so that Kaileena can get comfortable.

“So... when’s the wedding?” Akio asks.

“SHUT UP!!!” We both roar. Akio puts out the firefly lantern, laughing like a madman at our reaction. The room goes dark, save for a sliver of moonlight that pours out the window like a waterfall. I close my eyes and try to sleep, with Kaileena’s purring and Akio’s weak, nigh-inaudible giggles acting like hypnotizing metronomes. Within minutes, I feel a weight on my chest. I raise a hand and feel a paw. The paw reacts by gripping my hand gently, and I think I hear a content sigh from the cat at my side. Soon, I begin to feel heavy, a sign that my brain is preparing to temporarily shut down and make its routinely sojourn into the domain of dreams.

And it does just that, my conscious departs the docks of reality and drifts off down the river of time on a boat of pleasant dreams.

But instead of sleeping for the whole night, I awake in the middle of the night to something else....

Something... terrifying....

VIII - Newfound Discovery

Leather-Winged Oddity

VIII - Newfound Discovery

Destiny is a funny thing.

It is not always what you want and it is not always fair, but if you keep your mind and heart open, it will work itself out for you.

However, the path that destiny lays out for me still puzzles me.

And I trek down this path that destiny crafted for me when I hear the horrifying sound that wakes me up in the dead of night.

Howling.

Loud, heart-stopping, blood-freezing howling.

But these canine calls of the night aren’t those of typical wolves.

They sound more... gruff. And I hear other noises besides howling. I hear commands being barked, unintelligible speech, and screaming.

Diamond Dogs.

I jolt up out of the hammock, Kaileena almost falling off with a yelp of surprise from my sudden jerk. Akio is up and about, grabbing a spear from underneath his hammock. When he turns to face us, I see no kind, carefree look in his face. Replacing it is one of cold determination. “Damien, Kaileena, stay right here!” he orders. He goes outside while me and Kaileena do as he asks and hide in the shadows of the hut.

“Damien?” Kaileena whispers to me and hold me tightly as the fight wears on.

“Yeah?” I reply.

She swallows a lump in her throat. “I’m scared.”

I breathe in and sigh deeply, trying to calm my hammering heart from what my mind is about to do. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“What?!” She protests. “No way! Didn’t you hear my father?!”

“Yes, and I don’t care! They might need my help!”

“That doesn’t matter!” I see a tear ready to leave her eyes... unless I think it’s just some sort of trick in the light. “Please don’t go!”

“Kaileena! Promise me you’ll stay here!” I demand. She’s taken aback by my outburst, but she nods. “Thank you.” I concentrated once more on pulling out Ellipsis. The scythe appears in my hand not a moment later. “I promise I’ll be right back.” I rush outside and into the village grounds.

Not a moment after I exit the hut does a vial of green liquid come whizzing at my face. At the last second, I duck before it can hit. I hear a crack and a yelp of pain behind me and risk a glance over at the spot to see a Diamond Dog get hit in the face with the vial and fall to the ground, the green liquid becoming a noxious gas and rendering the Dog unconscious in an instant.

Knockout gas, eh? Two can play at that game.

I turn around again, and see the same Dog that threw the vial fire a net my way. I swing Ellipsis upwards, the rendered air slicing the oncoming net in two. The Dog, decided it would take too long to reload and fire another net, decides to go for the knockout gas again.

This time I am prepared.

When the vial gets flung into the air, I slightly sidestep and use my right wing to catch the vial of gas like a baseball mitt would a ball, my wing slowing down to the momentum of the vial rather than just stopping it altogether. With my right wing cocked back like a gun, I step forward, swing my wing, and relaunch the vial back at the Dog. The vial cracks in his face and he is no longer conscious, long before the gas could get to him.

I take to the skies to get a look at my surroundings. The cat-people are fighting the Diamond Dog hoard at the eastern side of the valley, and the Dogs are slowly winning. The Urukai members are driving back or killing the Dogs, yet the hounds are either catching them with nets or incapacitating them with knockout gas.

If this kept up, there’d be no more Urukai left in this village....

I flew towards the fray of battle and landed in between both the cats and the Dogs, both sides staring at me.

“Damien, NO!” I look over to see Akio bound in a net on the Diamond Dog side.

“Shut it, slave!” A Dog orders at him, driving the butt of his spear into Akio’s ribcage.

Oh, hell no.... I grip Ellipsis tightly in my hands with the sudden rage from the Diamond Dog’s threat at the one who had taken me in for the night.

No one, and I mean no one, gets to kick Akio's ass.

“What is it, Beta? It so weird....” Another Dog gruffly asked his companion on his left, who has a taller stature, sleeker fur, and a more wolf-like appearance than the others.

“Who care?! It big, it strong, and it fly! It be useful in mines with other slaves! Get it!” The Beta commands. Three Dogs at his side fire three more nets at me, yet I slice them with Ellipsis again. I spin and throw the scythe like an Olympian discus at his head, and the blade cleaves his head clean off. I raise my hand and recall Ellipsis, the scythe returning to my hand and mowing down other Dogs in the process.

The hoard of slave-gatherers trembled at the body of their Beta leader, the one who was leading the raid. They look at me in horror, which soon becomes rage later on. I glance at them and grit my teeth, my heart still hammering, yet my mind sending me into maximum overdrive.

“Make peace with your God now...BECAUSE I’M COMING FOR YOUR NECKS!!!”

I rush them, Ellipsis poised and ready to begin its bloodthirsty rampage. I horizontally swing at one of the Diamond Dogs that had tried to capture me, and slice him clean in half. At the peak of the swing, I throw Ellipsis at the Diamonds Dog on my left. I kick the upper half of the dead Dog in front of me at his comrade behind him. The canine comrade screams in fear as he catches the upper body of his fallen friend. With Ellipsis now done with killing the Dog I had thrown it at, I recall the scythe once more, only to throw it like a tomahawk at the screaming Dog before. The scythe burrows into his whole face as I jump on the lower half of the still-standing Dog’s body, kick off of it, plant my talons on the other Dog’s chest, and rip out the scythe from his face as the two of us tip over from the force of my landing. When his body falls to the ground with a thud, I turn to the Dog that was at my right, and swing low, the blade of Ellipsis cutting off one of his legs. He falls over with a scream of agony and a thud. I run over, kick him in the chin to knock his torso upright, stab the blade into his throat before he falls back down, and swing the scythe, ripping his head off as the blood from his neck pours in generous amounts. I continue my onslaught, dodging and dispatching any nets or knockout gas vials that are sent my way.

And all the while, I'm humming "Tiptoe Through The Tulips" like a fucking pansy.

But still... what is this... feeling I am getting? With every Dog I swing at and slay, the feeling grows in intensity, and is in constant need of replenishment, that form of said replenishment being in the form of killing more enemies.

Is this... bloodlust?

No... It can’t be. The only things I’ve ever killed until this point were the warthog and that Lacuni teenage girl, but the former was to save my life and the latter was to help put someone out of their misery.

But my thoughts on this possible desire to kill were only proven correct as I mow down the enemy. The blood being slung into the night shines like liquid rubies in the light of the sinking moon and the torches, and the screams of my enemies are like a skilled orchestrator is creating the most magnificent of classical preludes, boleros, nocturnes, requiems, and serenades....

This... this is bloodlust.... and as I progress with this... murderous rape I have created... I begin to love every single second of it.

I look around me, and the number of Diamond Dogs has significantly decreased, the deceased mutts littering the ground. I glare at the remaining seven Dogs in front of me, and they start to slowly back away.

“G-get back!” One of them wails in fear as he tries to toss a vial of knockout gas at me, but his hand was shaking violently when he threw it, so the speed and trajectory are below par. I catch the vial in my left hand and launch it back at him, hitting him in the face and knocking him out, the other hounds next to him holding their breath to prevent sharing their fallen comrade's fate.

“St-st-stay away, demon!” Another shrieks. “Stay away!”

“No can do, boys...” I say darkly as I advance upon them. They are backed up against a tree, with nowhere to go. “You all have a meetin’ with th’ Reaper... and you. Won’t. Miss it....”

Their screams are the last things that escape their throats.

I take a knee, wipe my face with my scarf, and assess the damage done to me. My heart is once again pounding at a ludicrous rate and my breathing is ragged and heavy. I have multiple cuts on me that I don't even remember receiving, each one bleeding their black blood and heavily staining my slashed and torn clothes. I am run ragged from the battle, with sweat pouring out in streams, stinging the wounds as they enter them.

The other Diamond Dogs who had seen or heard of my massacre leave the village at breakneck speeds, a cacophony of whines issuing from their throats as they ran with their tails between their legs, abandoning the villagers they had intended to take with them. I stand amidst the gory mess before me, scythe still dripping blood. I weakly flick the polearm and let the red liquid fling off of it onto the ground. Despite my current status, I take to the skies and ascend high into the air, just to see the Dogs running away. “DON’T COME BACK HERE IF YA WANT TO LIVE ANOTHER DAY!!!” I shout at them with as much force as I could summon.

Unfortunately, I was far too cocky for my own good when I said this.

My outcry is rewarded with another vial of knockout gas from one of the fleeing Dogs in a last-ditch effort. Unlike the last one, which was shaky and imbalanced, this throw is as accurate as a bullet from a sniper rifle. The brittle glass of the container slams into my chest and shatters to pieces, leaving a painful sting where it struck. The liquid inside the vial turns into a gas when exposed to the oxygen, leaking into the air and entering my body. The gas ravages my respiratory system and plummets my brain into a temporary shut-down, sending me into a realm of unconsciousness.

This won't be good at all, considering that I'm still airbourne.

The last things I can only witness as I descend into both the darkness of incapacitation and the ground of the village are gasps of shock and someone screaming my name.

Shadow: IS THIS WHAT I FUCKING THINK IT IS?

Fuck yeah it is. Io Kusanagi, author of the bad-ass fiction The Blue Stranger, The Red Curtain, drew that for me. Why?

BECAUSE HE'S AN ARTISTIC BADASS, THAT'S WHY.

SO... props to Io for his awesome art work, and not to sound like a whore, but which one of you is capable of drawing Kaileena and/or Akio?

If so, tell so in the comments! If not, that's alright. Next chapter will be up in a few days.

~S.W

IX - The Taste Of Gods’ Tears

Leather-Winged Oddity

IX - The Taste Of Gods’ Tears

The flow of time is always cruel... its speed seems different for each person: slow for some, hasty for others... but no one can change that, nor can they change the events that will ensue.

Time acts like some sort of flipping and flopping subject for me: slower than molasses one day, faster than a bullet the next. It’s strange, like the Sandman is just constantly tampering with my Sands of Time, either speeding up or prolonging the imminent threat of Death that awaits me.

Speaking of such a matter, no, I am not dead. For one, I can feel my heart beating in my chest, albeit at a weak rate. I can also hear the sound of birds chirping, the feel of the Sun’s light on my face, and another feel of soft, silky fur on my arm and grass on my back.

The first reason alone is enough to prove that I have not crossed into the other world.

And while we can change our outcomes that occur in the future, a thing that does not change is the memory of younger days....

While I wish I can tell you that my younger days were mesmerizing and fantastic, that’s just it: a wish. To tell the truth, my childhood and teenage years are nothing short of unpleasant.

Having to leave Ireland, where my father was buried....

Putting up with my prostitute of a mother and her nightly ‘clients’....

Dealing with people in Colorado who taunted me for my accent and bullied my younger homosexual brother....

Oh, dear God.....

I shut my eyes tighter, frightened of what would happen to my brother if I wasn’t around. I didn’t give a damn about my mother, but no one, and I mean no one, hurts my little brother Daniel... ever....

I push the fear and paranoia of my sibling’s safety with me gone, hoping against hope that he’ll be alright and that he can fend for himself. Once the painful reminiscence passes, I try to recall the events of last night.

Earlier, when I was falling, I had thought that Death had claimed me for one of his own, a soul to add to the immense library of souls he currently owns. Now, I know this is not true at all.

But still... this... pain.

I have never felt anything like it. This excruciation makes my intense migraine and sore body from when I was zapped here look like a joke.

I awake to what seems to be the light of the morning, due to my eyelids glowing red in the light of the Sun. I try to open my eyes, but the crust of sleep seals the lids closed. I’m drained and beaten from the ordeals of last night, and I barely had any energy to even move. Every single inch of me screamed in this agony, like someone had the nerve to mercilessly beat me with a sledgehammer.

I try sending my eyes ajar again, and the crust that glued them shut cracks and finally breaks, blessing me with sight once more. The light that hits my eyes causes me to blink in order to adapt from a dark environment to a light one. Once that’s out of the way and my eyes are open further, I lift my head up and scan my surroundings.

Thankfully, I am still in the Urukai village, with the cat people still doing their day-to-day activities. After doing a quick rundown of the vicinity, I sigh in relief that no one had been captured and taken. I see that I’m lying under a tree, the leaves partially shading me from the Sun’s radiance. Ellipsis lay next to me, an understandable thing seeing as how I was incapable of returning it to the Abyss last night. What caught my eye was the gem at the top, and how it was glowing a pure white instead of remaining a lustrous black.

I want to figure out what that’s about... yet simultaneously, I didn’t. Besides, I’m always far too lazy to deal with it at the moment.

Still delirious and lightheaded from sleep, I turn my head to see Kaileena, her head turned to the side and facing mine as her arms are wrapped around my own and our faces are mere millimeters apart from one another.

...wait, what.

A sharp intake of breath hints how surprised I am. I try to stand, but I’m still too beaten and sore to get up. “What the hell?” I mutter.

To make matters worse, Kaileena starts to stir awake. When she opens her hazel eyes to greet my red ones, her expression is a shell-shocked one as she jumps back in shock. “Oh, gods, I can’t believe you woke up to that, I’m so sorry!”

“No, no... it’s alright... wait, why’d ya sleep next to me?” I ask.

“I couldn’t let you fall to your death, could I? Plus, you needed some company.” It hit me right there. Kaileena was probably the one who had shouted my name. I think she also might have broken my fall.

I take a while before responding to the rhetorical question. “Th... thank ya. I owe ya big time, lass.”

“No you don’t. You saved the village from the Diamond Dogs... so I guess I owed you from the beginning,” Kaileena tells me as I try once more to stand up. “Oh, and speaking of Diamond Dogs, um...” She presses her index finger-like digits together nervously.

“No one got kidnapped, right?”

“No, no... something happened about... your clothes...”

Now that I’m standing up, I look down at myself and frown. Instead of my longsleeve shirt, duster, pants, scarf, and sash, I’m wrapped from chest to ankles in bandages like some incomplete mummy, the white medical cloth untainted by black gore. A pair of boxer briefs are clad on my bandaged-wrapped hips, but that was it. I sigh heavily as I take a few tentative steps around the vicinity.

“Hang on... who removed me clothes?” I ask.

Kaileena goes wide-eyed and starts blushing furiously, her irises shrinking to a drastic, tiny size.

“Oh, no.” Are you telling me... that Kaileena saw me NUDE?!

“No, wait, I can explain!” Kaileena wails.

“Please, God, let this be a bad joke!” I shout to the heavens, desperate for an answer that would not come.

I sigh again and fall to my knees.”Oh, forget it....” I pinch the bridge of my nose in agitation. “Just forget it.”

My stomach grumbles in hunger. Coincidentally, something inconceivably delicious-smelling enters my nostrils as it trails from the village. I can sense cinnamon, nutmeg, strawberries...

… and porridge. Sweet, succulent, delicious porridge.

Akio, you crafty bastard.

I get up again, the process not being as painful as before. I summon Ellipsis towards me and banish it back into the Abyss once it’s in my hand. “Let’s get some breakfast, OK?” Kaileena nods and gets up, walking with me to the mess hall again.

Thankfully, unlike the looks of dislike and curiosity that the villagers mercilessly fired at me last night, the looks I receive are ones of praise.

Me and Kaileena sit at the same table from last night, bowls of porridge in our hands. Once seated, Akio walks over with a bowl of porridge in his right hand and a change of clothes under his left arm. Unlike the clothes that the Urukai typically wore, it looked entirely different. For one, I see black and white instead of green. I also spot a brown belt and bandolier, and perhaps some bracers for my forearms.

“Morning, you two,” Akio says as he seats himself on the opposite side of our table. I nod at him and smile. “These are for you, Damien.” He gives me the bundle of clothes and belts. I take them eagerly, and unfold them. In my hands are a red-trimmed white tunic that would reach my thighs and has a hood. The hood is long, the pointed end of it ending at the small of my back, and the rim of the hood had a pointed tip as well. It also has neat tears on the sides so that my wings can fit while I don the hood: clasps on said tears let me close the flaps of cloth, completely encircling the roots of my wings in cloth. A pair of black pants and another black long-sleeve undershirt accompany the tunic. I throw on the shirt, folding my wings to make the process much easier. Once that’s out of the way, I pull on the pants and throw on the tunic. I tighten the belt around my hips to secure the pants and throw on the bandolier. In the front of said bandolier are a few pockets for miscellaneous items, like explosives or smoke bombs, but occupying the pockets are a few of the knockout gas vials from the Diamond Dogs from last night, along with some red and blue potions that the Urukai had concocted. How they manage to distinguish which color is which is beyond me, but I’m not complaining: they’ll be useful in the long run. The bandages around my body are hidden by the clothes, sans the bandages on my arms. Then again, they add a nice effect to my appearance. I strap the bracers over my forearms.

“Erm... how do I look?” I ask them. Kaileena doesn’t respond: instead, she has a dreamy look on her face, mouth curled up in a goofy smile and eyes half-lidded. She shakes her head and snaps out of her trance.

“Oh, um, it’s nice, I like it,” she quickly says, smiling nervously.

“Not bad,” Akio chuckles as he glances at his daughter, whose cheeks turn crimson again underneath her father’s gaze. “I like it, as well.”

“Thanks, you two,” I murmur once I sit back down again. “Where’d you get these?”

“One of our tribe members was brave enough to leave the village and go to the town of Wethoof,” Akio answers. “Had to sell a few herbs and fruits to them in order to get 'em, but they were worth it.” He motions at the food on the table. “Now dig in.”

Once again, Akio’s orgasmic cooking never ceases to amaze me.

The porridge, incredibly warm and slightly sweet, is sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg, like I suspected it to be earlier. Thin slices of strawberries littered the surface of the porridge, the pink juices slightly leaking out into the pale breakfast food from how juicy the fruit actually was.

Like with the stew, I don’t hesitate in slaughtering that bad boy.

I shudder in pure joy from how magnificent the food was. I would’ve asked for seconds, had it not been for the fact that I would’ve lost my shit and just dunk my head in the whole cauldron from how delicious it actually was. It was so good, it actually seemed to melt the pain away... like some sort of edible Bengay ointment.

“That... was... incredible, man.”

“Think nothing of it... Oh, crud, here comes the chieftess. Act natural.” We look in the direction Akio is facing. Coming our way is an old woman, also of the Urukai. However, she is donned in a green dress, with gold anklets, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings adorning her figure. Her eyes are narrowed with age, and wrinkles decorate her face like canyons in the earth. A large tribal hat customized with massive feathers of multiple colors sits atop her head, and in her hand is a walking stick with a sharp, metal hook-like blade at the top.

“I take it you’re the one who saved our village last night?” The cat asked me. I nod, my inner self chuckling at the stereotypical coincidence: she even sounded elderly, like that typical grandma that you have to visit with your parents, even though you don’t want to because her houses smells like cabbages and her seventeen cats are loud and annoying because they’re in heat.

….I’m going off on another tangent, huh?

Anyways, back on track.

“Me and this whole village would like to thank you, strange creature.” The woman extends her paw, and I gladly shake it once. “Tell me, what is your name?”

“Damien O’Connor, madame,” I answer. She lets go of my hand and puts it to her chin, as if contemplating something.

“Damien... O’Connor... very well. My name is Bayru, and I have been the cheiftess of the Urukai village for forty-seven of my ninety-six years here.” I blink multiple times. Ninety-six years!? Jesus tit-sucking Christ, that’s ancient! “I have decided on how to repay you for your valor.”

“Honestly, madam, no repayment is necessary.”

“Nonsense!” Bayru flashes a smile my way. “Please come with me, my boy.” She hobbles away towards the northern edge of the village, where their large building of worship is. I get up and follow the chieftess. When we reach the building, she opens the door and enters first, with me following her example afterwards. I take one look at the interior and whistle in astonishment.

The inside of the building is massive. Multiple cat figures are standing stock-still at the other side of the room, each figure decorated with beautiful markings. There are no pews, only large prayer mats, and an altar that stands in front of the figures, probably where the religious leader would be. Bayru walks over to the altar and taps a spot on the side with the butt of her staff. The spot where she hit seems to give way, sinking into the altar. The actual altar itself moves aside several feet away from Bayru, revealing a set of stairs descending into an underground chasm.

I blink again a few more times. I’ve seen way too many Indiana Jones movies to know where this is going: the old lady will lead me into the chasm, where I will have to fight many hardships and obstacles, and if I come out on top, I take my treasure only to come across one major she-bang of a trap to try and kill me, only for me to fly out and emerge victorious. Maybe I’ll even shag some fifteen or so bitches while I’m at it.

Yep... that's exactly how I envision it.

“Inside this cavern is something the Urukai have treasured and guarded for generations. Only the mighty are allowed to enter and only the chief or chieftess knows the secret of how to get inside,” Bayru explains. “Please, Damien O’Connor, descend into this hole and claim your prize.”

That’s what she said!

...Goddamnit, brain.

I steel myself and walk down the stairs into the chasm. The sound of my eagle feet slapping on the stone pavement ring and reverberate along the walls of the cavern. I am expecting the steps to be as long as Hell, probably actually descending to Tartarus. However, it only takes a minute of walking before that I reach the bottom of the staircase. The bottom led to a long narrow hallway. I would’ve walked down it and gotten this over with...

...Had it not been for the fact that the hallway is twisted, like the wrapper of a candy.

“What the hell....” I take my first step on the twisted floor of the hallway. And then another. And then another. I go bug-eyed at the fact that gravity is practically being defied as I walk along what should have been the ceiling of the room. The cavern is incredibly dark, save for a very tiny light at the end of the hallway.

After running the entire length of the twisted hallway and return to a normal position, I reach the end of it, the room being shrouded by a pair of gossamer curtains. I push the curtains aside to reveal a large, circular room, with me standing on a small cliff that dangled over a seemingly bottomless void. The roof of the cave towers twenty to thirty feet above me. Sticking out of the void are several narrow columns of stone, twenty in all, slightly ascending up to the tallest, and wider column. Despite how immense the room is, I hear the faint trickling sound of running water coming from the widest column as the sound echoes across the room.

I try to fly to the last column, my wings eager to take to the proverbial skies... however, there seemed to be something... amiss... with this cavern. When I start going airborne, the cave seemed to negate my flying abilities, like some sort of Bubble Shield is in the way. I get pushed back down on my back, the pain I experienced this morning reawakening and stinging something fierce.

“Oww... me body wasn’t ready....” I mumbled painfully. I get up on my feet again and dust off my clothes.

“So how do I go about this...?” I ask myself as I look at the narrower columns first. They’re set pretty close together, almost close enough to even walk on....

Hold the phone... I know what I’m supposed to do now....

I step back a bit so that I could get a running start at the first column. I jump and land on it, using the talons of my feet to cling onto it for dear life. “Whoa!” I flail my arms to bit to help stabilize my balance. I turn and leap towards the second column, then the third. Eventually, I get a little bit cocky when I reach the tenth column, performing flips and spins and alternating my landing with either my feet or my hands. But I almost slip after a particularly tricky somersault, so I stop performing daring stunts.

Thankfully, I manage to make it to the widest and tallest column of the room, slightly sweaty from exertion. In front of me stands another pair of gossamer curtains. I push them aside again to reveal a room, where the sounds of water emanate from. Inside the room is...

“A fountain?!”

Really, Bayru? You made me go through with this just so that I can have a fucking drink of water?

I facepalm at how senile the chieftess must be. I look at the fountain again. The entire metal frame of it was a pure gold. At the top of it was a little blue glowing sphere, with a mist of the same color swirling around. The water looks clean, healthy, and sparkling as they cascade from the top pan in little waterfalls, go through a small drain stationed near the bottom pan, and flow back up to the top, completing the aquatic cycle.

I step towards it, my throat slightly parched. Okay, so in retrospect, maybe Bayru sending me here isn’t that bad of an idea. But still, she could’ve at least send some of her tribesmen to build a bridge or something, Goddamn.

Still, I have reached my goal, and that’s all that matters.

I dunk my right hand in the water and scoop some of it into my palm. The liquid is cool and clear as it sits in my hand. I bring the water to my lips and cautiously sip some. My eyes bolt open wide again from the taste. The water has a slightly sweet and exotic flavor to it, like rose water and a bit of sugar was added to the mix.

In hindsight, I honestly wish I had never done this.

The water, once it hits my stomach, alternates my blood’s temperature between icy-cold and fiery-hot. I clutch my stomach in pain and grit my teeth from the agony. A blinding shine of light emanates from the orb on top of the fountain, and the mist that surrounds it expands, spinning around me as I could feel my feet leave the floor against my own will.

To add to the suspense, I hear voices whispering to me. Multiple voices, both men and women. The voices are speaking in an unknown and ancient tongue, something I can’t decipher for the life of me.

"Nast perfi kul tadima nukh pelishte kayya, marstan fursuru konde motef hurushne dayya...."

On... and on... and on... like some sort of sick, terrifying voodoo chant....

I simply want to end this... to just put a stop to this once and for all.

But a... vision... from these gods makes it evident that no such thing will happen.

XI - Bars of Iron and Fellow Jailbreakers

Leather-Winged Oddity

XI - Bars of Iron and Fellow Jailbreakers

The rules and fundamentals of life aren’t set as cold and hard as prison bars. They are like quicksilver. They bend, they blur... and more often than not, they break.

Only tragic events that would scar the brain and rip the heart transpire when the latter takes place.

When such a thing occurs, some choose to pick up the pieces and move on. Others? They choose to simply remain in the past, mourning what was lost.

I don't like to perform the latter, though. Usually, I choose to proceed with this life, and accept the outcomes and results I receive as I move on. However, nagging thoughts enter my head and won’t leave. Will my brother be alright? What about my friends, and my teachers?

That... fountain... it practically ripped me apart, molecule by molecule. Regardless, that was when I drank it. Now?

I feel... wonderful.

Literally, I feel like I can take on the world. I feel a tad stronger, with a quick reflexive mind just ready to erupt with knowledge.

But that vision... that vision of the future... I don’t think it will happen, and I only say this because I am rather mersed in chaos theory, so my actions now may not cause that clairvoyant repercussion. I don’t know who those others were, but I think I may meet them in the long run. But if it’s actually powerful deities that crammed this prediction into my mind... why not? Hell, anything is possible.

But after thinking that my stay here in the Urukai village is being overstayed, my next decision is adamant, like an unyielding wall in the path of a battering ram.

It is time to leave.

I go to Akio’s and Kaileena’s hut to grab my backpack before I leave the Urukai village. Some of the villagers said their goodbyes to me as I made my way through the village.

“So... you’re leaving, huh?”

I whip around to see Kaileena in the darkest corner of the room. I panic, especially because I never saw her. Holy shit, she’s good at camouflage... she ought to be part of Spec Ops if she ever gets a chance to visit.

I nod sorrowfully. The cat-woman, or Bast, the name of the species that I have acquired because of the vision, has a sad look in her eyes as she wrings her hands, like she is regretting something.

“Well... I hope to see you soon, Damien... you were a good friend.” She smiles sadly, and hugs me as tightly, yet as gently as possible. I don’t bother letting go: I hold onto her for the life of me. The smell of nature is laced in her fur, which is as smooth as silk.

She pulls away, and looks up and down my face. “And.., Y’know something?” She asks as she painfully slowly leans in closer and closer. “Despite the flesh... you’re actually rather cute....”

“Erm... thank ya?” I say nervously. She closes her eyes and slightly parts her lips as she gets even more incredibly close, until I...

“Get a room, you two!”

...Get saved by the bell.

Me and the Bast turn to face the one who had spoken. Akio is leaning against the threshold of the doorway, arms crossed and a stupid smile on his face. Kaileena and I jump back in surprise at his quiet entry.

“Dad... you have the worst timing ever....” The daughter facepalms at her father's entry.

“Well, excuuuuuuuse me, princess.” I do a double take at Akio’s snide remark. Perhaps it's just a coincidence... right? “At least I don’t go around kissing random boys.”

“...Good point,” I comment. This is rewarded with a punch in the belly from Kaileena. "Ow! Dammit!"

“And besides, you make it seem like you’re not going with him!” Akio exclaims, a smirk on his face. I blink a few times... wait, so that means Kaileena is coming with me?

Ugh... I might need a drink from the massive confusion, irritation, and frustration I’m feeling. Plus, I haven’t had actual liquor in a while....

What? What do you mean there’s no alcohol in Equestria? Hey, who’s the college student here?

…

Yeah, exactly, so shut the fuck up. I don’t give a shit how many fanfictions you’ve read, they’re all wrong. Every single one of them.

Now, onto the matter of getting me some sauce.

I would go to Canterlot for a drink. However, I’m pretty sure all those hoity-toity civilians wouldn’t sell any to me. Plus, I don’t even think Canterlot even has alcohol.

I’d also suggest Ponyville. But the only thing that they serve that’s considered as alcohol to them is hard apple cider, and that isn’t what I want.

I crave vodka. Lots of vodka.

And I think I know one place where that kind of alcoholic firepower resides....

...

Stalliongrad.

Me and Kaileena say our final farewell to the Urukai. Akio, being the culinary badass that he is, makes more food for me and my new travel companion to share. Good thing, too, because the rations that Nut provided me with are now spoiled and have gone bad.

It had taken us about four or five hours of nonstop travel to actually reach the massive city of Stalliongrad. I would have mistaken it for a city straight from Earth due to its monolithic size, yet it is crafted entirely of wood and stone rather than the industrial steel of mankind. What blows me away is that the entire metropolis is built on an island in the middle of an enormous lake with rivers branching off of it. Most of the shoreline is level with the water, but in a few places it rose into steep cliffs. I can see the tiny figures of possibly colossal mansions situating in these areas. The only entrance, for those who couldn’t fly, is a series of bridges connecting the urban sprawl with the mainland.

I spot a few guards patrolling the bridges like the wooden paths are toll bridges. Ponies are usually constituted as racists: trust me, I spent some time with Ginger Snap to figure that out. So if a pony wanted to access Stalliongrad, the toll would be fair. But that won’t be the case for anyone other than a pony, like a griffin, or a Diamond Dog...

Or me.

...

Thank God for wings.

I sigh in exhaustion, using Ellipsis as a crutch to help stabilize my posture. “Grab hold of me,” I tell Kaileena. She, in response, jumps on my torso and grabs her legs, arms, and tail around me to get a stable grasp on me. I sigh again, this time in irritation, as I beat my slightly exhausted wings and take to the skies again, making sure to fly out of eyeshot from the guards.

We land in the middle of the city, in a dark alley to avoid being spotted by pedestrians. Stalliongrad isn’t simply a pony-based city. Instead, there’s a mixing pot of other species, like Diamond Dogs and griffins.

Yet, how will they feel about a Devil Imp and a Bast?

“Alright, Kaileena, here’s the skinny,” I tell her as she gets off of me, “stick with me. Stalliongrad is a massive place, but these ponies might do something that’ll get you in trouble... so try not to make eye contact with them.” I grasp her hand and exit the alley, trying to find an alcohol vendor.

“I can’t believe you brought me here just so you can get wasted, you godsdamned alcoholic...” she mutters.

“Screw you, I’m not an alcoholic: they go t’ meetings. I’m a drunk, I go t’ parties,” I quietly admonish playfully.

“Well then, why didn’t we go to Canterlot? The Grand Galloping Gala is tonight,” Kaileena says as she reads a news clipping she spotted on the ground.

“Urgh....” I shiver in disgust. “Ya mean put up with snooty-ass ponies, fancy food, etiquette, and classy wine? Hell no. I’d rather get heavily blitzed in a place where I can break things, and not only not pay for it, but also get rewarded for it with more skull-fucking booze. Speaking of the matter, let’s find some.”

The whole populace fires glances at me and Kaileena every now and then, yet we pay them no mind. Everywhere I turn, each stall is devoid of the illustrious liquor...

...until my nose picks up the smell of something wonderful.

“Booze. Two o’clock.” I turn to see a small hole-in-the-wall pub labeled Buccaneers’ Brew. I start smiling idiotically as I walk up to the place, ready to get my hands on a bottle of vodka.

“Please tell me we're not going in that trashy place,” Kaileena deadpans.

“Oh-ho-hoooo, yes, we are,” I say ecstatically.

“Halt!”

I stop in my tracks at the voice. Surprise overcomes me, then anger.

Who dares to put a halt on my crunk Crusades?

I turn to my left to see a sextet of guards making their way towards me. Half of them are Unicorns, and half of them are Pegasi. Each guard has a spear in their curled forearms as they advanced.

“What are you doing?” I ask them frustratedly, my grip on Ellipsis tightening by the second. “Why did you interrupt me booze-loving?”

“You won’t need alcohol where you’re going,” The guard who spoke earlier says coldly.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Kaileena demands.

“It means that you two are under arrest.”

“WHAT?!” We both exclaim.

“What for?!” I ask.

“One: not paying the toll to get into the city.”

“How didja-?” I start.

“We saw it,” a female guard informs. “Next time, pay the toll.”

“And two:” the first male guard presses on, “being in possession of a weapon. No species other than a pony is allowed to have a weapon in Stalliongrad.”

“That is the biggest pile of shit I could’ve ever heard!” Kaileena screams.

“Well, guess what?” The guard stomps on the ground. “That ‘biggest pile of shit’ is the rules here in Stalliongrad. Now come with us... we got a nice cell for you....”

“And what’re ya gonna do if we don’t go?” I demand vehemently.

“For starters, we’re gonna (Horrendous and erotically disgusting dialogue that has been omitted to protect the not-so-sacred teen rating). How does that sound?”

“...” Kaileena is silent, face contorted in disgust as she shudders from the pure grotesqueness of it all.

“Me body won’t be ready for any of that!” I complain in a whiny voice.

And even worse, I have the WEIRDEST boner right now....

“Well, too bad.” I feel cold metal around my wrist and see two guards cladding both me and Kaileena together with a pair of handcuffs... or is it hoofcuffs?

Damn you, grammar... I salute you with a middle finger.

The six guards take away Ellipsis and Kaileena’s hook sword and begin pushing us towards their destination. “Move it or lose it, freaks.” The female guard from earlier demands.

Seven minutes of forced walking transpires. We look up at the jail before us, and we both go wide-eyed in a mixture of awe and fear.

The jail is styled like a chess rook, or a castle tower, for those of you who aren’t submersed in chess terminology. The landmark stretched to a staggering one hundred feet, carved entirely of ash-gray stone. Small, bar-wrought windows jut out of the building, and the foundation is as wide as a house. Judging by the number of columns of windows, I assume there are about nine or ten floors. A wooden door, a typical beige hue, at the base of the building signifies that the tower isn’t simply just an impressive, albeit intimidating, statue.

In Kaileena’s eyes, a place like this must be to die for if it was a house.

But to me? That rook is ready to claim a pawn for its own.

“The tower of the damned, rising from the pits of Tartarus up to the heavens. The conflicting sides of life and death mix and distort space. As you climb further up the tower, the closer to Tartarus you go. If you continue you will only reach your ruin, for at the top you shall fall off the world and into the abyss.﻿ Built to reach salvation, only to bring about damnation. The ponies unknowingly sentenced themselves to death, the tower that was meant to be their bridge becoming their grave. Welcome to Stone Tower, freaks,” the male guard says. The guards push open the door and guide me up the spiraling staircase. I watch, out of the corner of my eye, the guards with our weapons place them in a room on the left. We are pushed up the twisting flight of stairs.

“Why is this place so huge?” I ask. Each floor we pass is large and circular, with jail cells set up in a circle as well.

“Our chief decided that we needed a large facility and more security after the last breakout, so we built this place,” The female guard answers, irritated by my very presence.

“Breakout?” Kaileena raises a brow.

“Yes. Several months back, two griffins helped a Unicorn escape from here. We got quite a field day from the chief after that.” The male guard shivers. I spy a floor with the big number “5” written on it, signifying that we are on the fifth floor. We are taken down this floor towards an empty cell on the far left area of the circular room. All around me, the inmates whisper words of disgust at my presence, due to my unusual appearance. I pay them no mind, but their words still sting like hornets. The guards unlock and open the door before unlocking our cuffs and shoving us inside. The door slams shut behind us, and the guard locks the door, preventing us from escape.

“Hang on!” I demand.

“What?” The guard spits angrily.

“What if this world orbits the sun?” I ask, the greatest troll face plastered to my own as I try to get a rise out of him in a last-ditch effort.

It isn’t very effective...

“...What if your girlfriend orbits my dick....”

“I’m NOT his girlfriend!” The Bast that’s imprisoned with me charges at the cage and tries to swipe at the guards through the bars with her claws. The guards only laugh even harder than before the joke was made.

And what am I doing?

I sit on a cot in the sidelines and do nothing, donning one of the largest poker faces I’ve ever had the misfortune to be plagued by. Only problem is that my face is beet red with mortification.

The guards go back downstairs, still giggling like morons. Kaileena draws back from the bars of the jail, still seething slightly. She sits down on the other cot and sighs. “Those... those pricks!” She hisses, her fists balled up.

“Hey, hey, hey, what happened t’ bein’ peaceful?” I quip. Kaileena stops her hissy fit and begins to gradually calm down.

“Yeah, yeah... you’re right. Sorry, Damien.”

“Don’t mention it....” I turn my head and see two other Bast staring at us. One has fur the color of mahogany, and bears eyes of a vivid green. He is clad in a brown tunic and pants. The other has silver fur, sharp blue eyes, and dressed in rags. The silver-furred Bast is incredibly middle-aged, yet seems to possess wisdom due to his age; the brown one appears to be at his prime in his younger years.

They’re both staring at me, the brown one in confusion, the silver one in disdain.

“Hey Ren, remember when you asked what a human was?” the brown one says.

“Yeah...”

“That, just without the bird legs and the bat wings.”

“Hmmm...honestly, not as ugly as I thought it would be.”

“Hold the phone, lad,” I interject. “How in the hell do you know what a human is?” I then ask the brown one.

“The same way you do,” he says while rolling his eyes.

“Y...you got blasted here, too?” I finally say.

“No...mine hit me on the head with an umbrella,” he says sheepishly.

“Ah... mine threw a magically-enhanced pencil at my face. Woke up at the beach with the biggest migraine ever.”

“Dammit! Mine made me climb down a cliff! Infested by rocs!”

“Oh gods, not the rocs again. You were attacked by a giant bird. It happens. Get over it,” the grey one grumbled.

“Somehow, I know that feel,” I tell the brown one. “Got chased by a wild boar with the biggest tusks I’ve ever seen. Your little roc experience makes my problem look...” Pause for dramatic effect... “Boar-ing.”

Don’t get me wrong. I think that was a funny pun, but it is absolutely foolish of me to expect someone to shout “YEEEAAAHHH!”.

And plus... no one even laughed.

“I’m going to have to hurt you for that at the earliest opportunity,” the grey one says plainly.

“Seconded,” the brown one concurs.

“Hah!” Kaileena chuckles. “Good luck, assholes! We’re trapped in here.”

“How is that a good thing?” I say blandly. I then turn towards the two other Bast across the room. “So what’d you guys get in here for?”

“Not being a pony,” the grey one growls.

“We beat up a ton of guards,” the brown one says with a smile. “You?”

“Same thing that grey one said. Only, I just wanted alcohol, an' those bastards downstairs prohibited it.”

“I told you we should’ve gone to Canterlot!” Kaileena admonishes.

“Oi! An' I told you that I am not putting up with snooty ponies if it meant receiving booze, alright?” I fire back.

“Hold on a second,” the older one starts, “you came to Stalliongrad, one of the most dangerous and racist cities in Equestria, to get drunk?”

“...I am not a clever man,” I deadpan. Plus, like I mentioned, there was a high chance that Stalliongrad had liquor. But I think after this experience, I may wanna stay off the sauce.

“I’ll say. Even I’m not that dumb and I lost my hand flipping somebody off!” The brown one holds up his right arm for emphasis. Now that I examine it more, I see that it is indeed slightly blockier than his other arm.

YA KNOW WHAT, FUCK YO- Yeah, he’s right...

“Well, damn, lad...” I mutter. “Either you’re very stupid, or ya have balls o’ steel.” The brown one flips me off at the former option. “However, that’s not important.”

“Then what is?” Kaileena asks.

“Freedom, me friends.”

“We’re working on that,” the grey Bast says.

“Then allow me t’ assist ya....” I open my palm and concentrate on summoning Ellipsis. I have never tried to teleport it to me unless it was in the Abyss... but maybe... and just maybe....

“PSHING!*

“Awww yeah, baby!” I exclaim evilly as my trusty scythe reappears in my hand again with a flash of light. The gold and red wrappings, the long and thin bat wing-shaped blade, the slightly meandering haft, and the gem at the top all appeared, the latter still glowing a bright white light.

“Huh...look at that,” the grey one says, wide-eyed.

“Holy shit!” The brown one shouts.

“Relax, he’s got this,” Kaileena reassures the two of them. I cock my arms back and give the door a mighty swing...

...only for the blade to beat uselessly against the iron bars. Granted, I do leave a little nick in the bars, but that’s it. The bone-jarring vibrations rush through my body and make me shake violently. “What the hell?!” I grumble when the vibrations subside.

“Nice try, kid,” the grey one tells me, “but if there’s one thing ponies know, it’s magic. They probably enchanted these bars to resist attack.”

“Dammit...” I sit back down. C’mon, Damien, think, think, think!

…

“Hmmm...” I get back up and look at the gem at the top of Ellipsis. Strange... I feel like I recognize that glow before...

…

AHA!

Alright, Damien, time to think! What’s the Latin word for ‘unlock’?

“Reserare,” I say automatically. The gem flashes slightly before dimming down a bit, and my brain gives off a very dull, yet easily ignorable pain. A clicking sound comes from the lock of mine and Kaileena’s prison door. I kick the door, swinging it wide open.

So that’s not all that that fountain did... seems I have more mana than prior to my fountain incident.

“Thank ya, Reverend Peters, despite your bullshit Scripture lessons!” I say happily. I walk over to the other cage containing the two other Bast and use the unlocking charm on their door. With a click and the sound of rusty hinges being turned. The grey and brown Bast vacate their cell.

“Well Fault, what do you have to say about that?” the brown one says, looking over my shoulder.

“I say he cheated,” a female voice says, accompanied by the sound of a cell door being swung open. From the room next to ours steps a dark grey unicorn with a rich blue mane and eyes to match. In her magical grip, she held a screwdriver and bobby pin which she moves to her tail for safekeeping. “I opened mine with pure skill. Not some fancy shmancy...whatever-the-hay-you-are trick!”

“Devil Imp, damn it,” I mutter angrily. “Honestly? Must I fuckin’ staple a piece of paper with those words onto me chest?”

“I’VE never even heard of a Devil Imp,” the brown one reasons. “I don’t think anyone around here even knows what a Bast is. You have to expect this stuff.”

“That’s not true: I know what a Bast is,” I tell him.

“You’re dating one,” he deadpans.

Once again, me and Kaileena both facepalm. “We’re not dating!” We both say in unison.

The unicorn rolls her eyes while the two Bast share a look. “Right.”

My eye twitches at a ridiculous rate before I take a deep breathe to prevent from skull-fucking someone with my scythe. “Let’s... let’s just go. This is not the time for that.”

“He’s right,” the unicorn starts. “Remember what I said about the beating? And solitary? We need to get moving before the guards find out we’re gone.”

“Yeah, yeah. Quick introductions. I’m Jack or Khajiit, whichever you prefer. He’s Ren and she’s Faultless. And you?” the brown one asks.

“I’m Damien. She’s Kaileena.” The Bast in question waves. “Let’s get your weapons an' get the hell outta here. I take it ya know where they are?”

“Probably in the first floor armory,” Fault answers. “That’s where they keep confiscated weapons until they find someone to buy them.”

“Correct,” Kaileena tells her. “Let’s get moving.”

“Like hell I’m letting them sell those swords! I’ve had them for years,” Ren growls.

“We could probably fight our way down there if we need to. After all, you have...that thing and I have this.” He grabs what I now realize is a wooden hand and pulls it off, revealing a gold-white blade underneath. The blade shines in the light of the sun streaming from his and Ren's cell window.

“Niiiice... ever pulled an Assassin’s Creed on anyone with that?”

“Once...kind of...it was on this rat chick that was going to have me stuffed after she raped me to death,” Khajiit explains as we all head down the spiral staircase in the middle of the room. Some of the prisoners are begging us to let them out as well as we make our descent.

“Please let us out!”

“We wanna go, too!”

“Please! I beg of you!”

And how do I react?

Well, let’s just say that I don’t have enough middle fingers for them all.

We reach the bottom of the staircase and see the armory that Faultless mentioned earlier. Unfortunately, two guards are there, sitting in chairs as their chests rise and fall, the both of them deep in sleep.

“Quiet Bast with soft paws first?” I whisper to Khajiit, Ren, and Kaileena.

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill.” Khajiit and Ren quickly and silently run up to the two sleeping guards. Ren starts a countdown with his fingers and when he reaches zero, the two of them bash the sleeping ponies heads together, leaving them unconscious. The two Bast then slip inside.

For a moment, all is quiet. Then: “SWEET LUNA, NOT THE FACE!”

After a couple of solid thumps, Ren calls out. “You can come in now.”

“Awesome,” Kaileena says as we both go in. I see both Khajiit and Ren throwing on a pair of exotic scimitars, Khajiit’s being black as ebony, Ren’s being white as ivory. On the ground lays a single pony, blood trickling from his nose and mouth as he lay on the ground, unconscious.

“Whoa, Ren, for an old fart, you’re good at this ‘beat the shit outta people’ thing,” I comment as Kaileena grabs her hooked sword and I look at the unconscious stallion with a hint of pity.

“I should be. I’ve been doing this for probably twice as long as you’ve been alive,” he says with a chuckle. Over in one corner, the unicorn was buckling on a pair of saddlebags. For no reason, she pulls a leather case out of them and kisses it.

“It’s okay, boys, mommy’s here.”

“Oookay, I’m gonna pretend that never happened,” Kaileena mutters.

“Agreed,” I say. The unicorn, Faultless, fires a menacing look at me. “Don’t look at me like that!” I argue. “You’re th’ one talkin’ to leather cases and shit.”

“What? You name your weapons! Why can’t I name my things?” she asked in a whining tone.

“...Touche... let’s just get the hell outta here,” I say again.

“Agreed,” Khajiit starts. “Besides, this is usually the moment where-”

“THE PRISONERS ARE ESCAPING!”

“Goddamnit! Every time!”

“Aw, Christ!” I say nervously. I look around and see the vials of liquid still in my bandolier. Hah! Bastards forgot to take that from me!

With a wicked smirk, I quickly pull a knockout gas vial and throw it at the guard who had shouted, the vial breaking in pieces and the green noxious fumes inside incapacitating him. However, more guards continue to pour out through the front door, and my knockout gas supplies aren’t exactly abundant.

“Ah, shit! I’m out!” I complain when the last vial of knockout gas is thrown. “Now what?”

“Now this,” Ren says casually as he and Khajiit charge the guards and start annihilating every single one of them with their fists, viciously knocking out each one of them within one or two blows to the face.

I let out a low whistle. These guys are almost as violent as I am.

Almost....

With the guards now knocked out and rendered useless, we all exit the Stone Tower prison, glad to be in fresh, breathable air again. Not wanting to hesitate and let the guards recapture us, we take off down the western road.

Sweet God, I must’ve broken a fucking record: I’d only been in that prison for about six minutes and already, I’m scot free.

However, this little milestone is to be celebrated at a later date.

When we try to escape through one of the bridges on the western side of Stalliongrad, we only see more guards angrily barricading the exit. Unless we think fast, we’d all be in deep shit.

“EVERYONE GRAB ONTO ME!!!” I shout at the troupe of escapees as I still charge. They all do as they’re instructed. OK, Damien, time to think again... what were those spells you saw yourself perform in the vision?

…

Ah, yes!

“Inviolabolis! Celeritas!” I shout. The glow of Ellipsis’s gem dims down significantly, and I experience a heavy case of lightheadedness, accompanied by a larger headache. I feel a strange wave of warmth wash over me as I cast the spells. Suddenly, I pick up much more speed than I thought I could. The guards stick their spears out in an attempt to stop me.

With the invulnerability and haste charms cast on me and the other four, I flare my wings and blitz through the whole crowd of stallions and mares at the speed of a racecar, knocking over guards like they’re bowling pins, their spears breaking and shattering like toothpicks as they came in contact with me.

After a few seconds of blindly barraging through the crowd of guards, we finally emerge on the other side of the river. I don’t stop flying however, until I am absolutely sure that they aren’t following us. The charms stop working, and I begin to slow down drastically before I drop down to the floor in exhaustion. We come to an abrupt and tumbling halt right next to a small pond.

“Ugh... never again,” Kaileena murmurs as she gets up off of the ground.

“Seconded,” Faultless groans.

“I hate flying,” Ren growls.

“Would ya rather we have gotten caught?” I deadpan at him.

“He has a point. And I will figure out what it is as soon as the earth stops spinning,” Khajiit says from his position on the ground. I chuckle slightly at the Bast’s misfortune, but he is correct: the earth does seem to be revolving viciously, and my headache from both the crash and the spell-casting has taken its toll on me.

I shake my head to rid the world of its vigorous spinning and stand up. I look at the afternoon sun in the sky, my headache from casting magic still existent, yet incredibly duller than before. “So where do ya all plan on headin’ now? Any place specific?”

“We need to get back into Stalliongrad,” Ren says solemnly as he gets up. “The two of us have business there.”

“Not with those guards swarming everywhere. I’m sure they’re already posting wanted posters right now,” Kaileena tells him.

“And the only way in is for me to fly you guys to your destination. Soooo....” I trail off, the obvious thought probably entering Ren’s head.

“Actually, that’s not true,” Fault exclaims. “There are other ways into the city.”

“What is it?” Ren quickly asks. Damn, this guy must really hate flying.

“There’s an old sewer entrance on this side the guards don’t know about. I can show you if you want.”

“So...we either fly or go through a stinking sewer.”

“Your choice, lad,” I offer. Honestly? After getting thrown into jail, busting out of said jail, and charging through an armada of guards, I’m in no mood to even go back to that city let alone touch alcohol ever again...

...OK, so maybe I lied about that last part.

“Well...we should at least see this entrance before we make a decision,” he says with a sigh.

“Yeah. Sounds good,” Khajiit calls out, though it sounds like he’s trying not to puke.

Hang on a tad... the name ‘Khajiit’ is from Skyrim, obviously. And when I told him if he Assassin’s Creed’d someone, he replied with a yes. Even better, he told me that he is from Earth, like me.

That might just leave one thing....

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Brain, Run BronyScan.EXE, please.

Of course, Master. You look very handsome today, and I am sure that several bitches would love to be with you.

Thank you, Brain.

“Hey, Khajiit!” I call out to the slightly nauseous Bast. “This is supposed to be an intervention: where is everypony?”

Khajiit looks up to face me, and I think it might be a trick of the light, but I see him slowly start to grin. “Applejack’s in a coma, Rarity’s being held captive by Mexicans, Fluttershy’s in the nuthouse, and Rainbow Dash’s dead. Any more questions, smartass?”

I shake my head.

He looks confused for a moment. “Are those that .MOV things? Those things freak me the fuck out!”

I chuckle again. “Dude, once you get used to HotDiggedyDemon’s work an' creepypasta, it’s not that bad.”

“I call bullshit on that, but whatever....” Khajiit gets back up and sighs, rubbing his temples to try and get rid of whatever headache he attained in the crash. “I’ve only seen the science one, but I swore off them after Twilight shit herself on camera. There are a few things I’ve never wanted to see in my life and cartoon pony shit was on that list.”

“Oh, Lord, ya do strike a point there, lad,” I comment. “So... you guys're gonna head back into a city where you not only got arrested, but you're also probably being searched all over for an’ also probably wanted for escape, assault, an’ not being a pony?”

“Not the most dangerous thing we’ve ever done. They’re just ponies, after all,” Ren says smugly.

“Ponies that kicked your ass,” Khajiit fires back. I resist the urge to snicker.

“Not fair! They cheated!” he retorts.

“Ahem. Gentlemen?” Kaileena cuts across the two others’ conversation.

“This is a last call. I’m headin’ to Ponyville, then Canterlot. But.. are ya sure ya don’t want me t’ fly you guys over to where ya need t’ go?”

“I would like to point out that I also know a place where we can hide for a while,” Fault calls out.

“I think we’ll be fine with the sewers,” Ren says.

“Thanks for all your help,” Khajiit adds, holding out his left hand. I take it in my left hand and give his a brief shake.

“No problem, me friends,” I tell him before I move on to shake Ren’s hand and Faultless’s hoof. “I honestly hope that we cross paths one day. Until then, safe travels an’ happy adventurin’!” I flash a little grin.

“It was really nice meeting you three,” Kaileena throws in. “I also can’t wait to meet you all again someday!”

“Likewise,” Khajiit says cheerily. Ren simply nods and Faultless waves.

“If you’re ever back this way, look me up in a bar called The Hall. You two seem like a lot of fun,” she says, throwing in a wink.

I give a short snicker before me and Kaileena wave at the trio of adventurers and head off into the west, where Ponyville is supposed to be located.

“Erm, Damien?” Kaileena asks as Khajiit, Ren, and Faultless turn back towards Stalliongrad to look for that hidden sewer entrance, the three of them disappearing from view as we crest over the hills.

“Yeah?” I respond.

“What’s creepypasta?”

Uh-oh. Abandon thread. ABANDON THREAD!!!

“Er... Ya don’t wanna know.”

This chapter is a cameo with Mr. Fordregha's incredible story, "Through Feline Eyes".

XII - Outcast's Outcry

Shadow: Note: I didn't put in as many lolz as before. Instead, I put in so many mothereffin' feels that it'll hurt. Enjoy to your heart's content.

Leather-Winged Oddity

XII - Outcast’s Outcry

What is it to dream?

Is it just to simply have your brain project a false image, rather like a movie clip, that you can watch and possibly alter at your leisure?

If that’s what you’re thinking, you’re only half-right.

Almost every person dreams, and almost everyone of those people have dreams that they cannot control, thus letting their brains do the visual orchestration for them.

However, a sparse few of them are what we would call lucid dreamers, capable of changing their dreams at will, turning their worst nightmares into impeccable visions.

However, there’s something about dreams that irks me constantly: that fact that once I wake up from them, I can never remember them. It’s not forgetfulness, no. I have reason to suspect that it might be because my brain not only likes to troll the living shit out of me in the morning, but also because the images my brain projects are simply... vague. Possibly even foreign and unknown to me.

Who knows? Perhaps I am forgetful, and I haven’t realized up until this point in time.

But all I know is... there won’t be any peaceful dreams tonight.

After several hours of traveling across Equestria’s vast plains on foot, me and Kaileena stop a few kilometers outside of Ponyville, the town resembling a mere blip in the distance. We set up camp and prepare to rest, what with the sun having gone down and the moon now in the sky. Every single diamond-like star is shining like lighthouses in a black ocean. As usual, it is inadvisable to continue traveling in the darkness, for the creatures that hide in shadows can ensnare you if you stray too far. Unfortunately, Nut never provided me with a tent. However, there’s still some magic juice in the gemstone of Ellipsis, and that’ll be enough for tonight.

“This is where we’ll stop for tonight,” Kaileena announces. “It’ll be too dangerous for us to travel at night.”

…That’s what I just said.

“Alrighty,” I say casually. I walk around in a large circle, casting magical protection spells: Protego (Protect), Silentio (Silence), Invisibilitatem (Invisibility); anything that will keep us safe once we crash inside the circle. Performing the spells has once again drained me of my energy, my brain now throbbing from the magical exertion. The gem has returned to being an opaque black. With some determination, I banish Ellipsis back into the Abyss again. I grab a blue potion from one of the bandolier pockets and pop it open before giving it a tentative sip.

The flavor of exotic fruits, mainly blueberries, is recognized by my tongue almost instantly, and the ache in my brain starts to dull with each chug. Once finished with the bottle, Kaileena reaches into the backpack I had tossed aside and pulls out the new rations that Akio had prepared for us. It mainly consists of bread, berries, and meat wrapped in large leaves to keep it preserved.

Once we chow down on the food, Kaileena almost immediately goes to sleep, curling up in a ball and yawning widely, a small smile spreading across her face once her mouth closes. HNNNNNNNG!!!!! SHE’S SO FLUFFY~!!!!

While the potion I drank removed my headache, there was only one drawback: my energy returns as well.

I somewhat regret drinking that potion, because I now have newfound energy coursing through me, like I have just downed a large can of Rockstar. I feel slightly jittery from the potion, despite that it tastes like a watered-down, sugar-free smoothie.

To kill time, I rummage through my backpack and pull out my iTouch, a small smirk on my face. I turn it on, and unlock the two locks that keep it from being accessed: the typical four-digit code, and the nine white spots where you drag your thumb across in the proper order.

The home screen appears, and I look at the corner of the screen, my jaw dropping at what I saw. Rather than having no signal in a world where Earth’s modern technology is nonexistent, the WiFi bars are full to the brim, and what made it weirder was that the bars were shimmering in rainbow colors, from red all the way to violet and back to red, like a fish’s iridescent scales in the sunlight. If I’m not getting WiFi via satellite, I’m probably getting it from the magic in this world.

What? It’s magic. I ain’t gotta explain shit.

I let out a low whistle and press the ‘Internet’ app. At the speed of lightning, the Google page appears. After derping around on both Tumblr and Equestria Daily for several minutes, I almost close both tabs and shut off the iTouch until I see a certain Tumblr post: it depicts a large plaque of names, dedicated to those who had lost their lives by their own hands due to excessive bullying, the poster commenting, “Why the hell can’t people just get along? It’s because of them that these poor sweet people are gone.”

I would’ve closed it... had it not been for that name that stuck out like a sore thumb near the end of the list.

‘Daniel O’Connor.’

Oh, no....

“No no no no NO!” I shout desperately, my voice cracking as tears begin to well up in my eyes. Kaileena jerks awake, rubbing her eyes groggily. When she sees me staring at the iTouch in both melancholy and disbelief, she snaps out of her sleepy hangover.

“Damien, what happened?” Kaileena asks in concern, rushing to my side. I shiver in emotional pain, refusing to believe what Fate had presented before me. She looks at my iTouch, and rather than question it and its abilities and technological advantages, she asks me, "What does it say?"

"My brother... he... he's dead... suicide," I croak.

She gasps in shock. "Oh gods... Damien, I'm so sorry...." She hugs me as tightly as she could, her head resting on my shoulder.

As I return her embrace, I feel something wet trickling down my face.

Was... was I crying?

No... a gentleman should never cry, especially in the presence of a woman as lovely as the Bast before me. Besides, I don’t even remember the last time I cried....

…

But maybe.... maybe just this once?

I let my emotional barriers break down like a sheet of ice under the sheer force of a wrecking ball. I return Kaileena’s hug, squeezing her tightly as I weep into her obsidian fur. I don’t know how I feel about this... I’m shocked, sad, numb, angry... I am everything negative.

I slowly remove myself from Kaileena and stand up, my scythe soon being picked up as I walk over to grab it. In melancholic fury, I chuck it to the sky, roaring angrily as I did so. Ellipsis swirls around lethally and clips the head off of a bird that passes by. The carcass of the avian plummets to the ground and lands in the grass with a very soft thud, and Ellipsis returns to me via recall. Once the scythe lands back into my hand, I glare at the gemstone at the top of the shaft. It is glowing slightly now, the opaque blackness barely fading away.

So that’s how I can make magic... through killing and claiming blood.

“Damien, what the hell is wrong with you?!” The Bast demands angrily.

I simply shake my head and sit back down on the grass, my head in my hands as I still weep. That little stunt I pulled did absolutely nothing to help me. “It’s just... why? Why did he have to do it?”

Kaileena remains silent, not wanting to say anything that she thought might anger me. Not that I’d even hear her: I’m lost in my own memories, trying to remember the last time I saw my sweet little brother’s face...

*KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!*

“Yoohoo! Big brother, I’m here!”

A knock at the door, along with that all-too familiar voice, are what distract me from what I’m preparing in the kitchen of my apartment. I vacate the kitchen and make my way to the front door. I open it wide to reveal the culprit.

Five-foot-eleven seventeen-year-old, green long-sleeve shirt, tight denim jeans, IMPECCABLE shoes, Ray Ban glasses, and the dirty-blond hair and blue eyes he inherited from his father.

Yup. It’s--

“Daniel!” I give him a one-armed hug and give him a noogie, making his perfectly coiffed hair look like a bird’s nest.

“Damien!” My little brother says deliberately, fixing his hair back into its originally coiffed form. I chuckle and scratch the back of my head nervously.

“Heheh... sorry ‘bout that, laddy,” I apologize. “Well, don’t be a stranger! Come on in!” I step aside, giving my brother access into my apartment room on the third floor. He kicks off his shoes and puts them by the door with my shoes, and walks around the living room before crashing on the leather couch, his sleeping bag and knapsack full of necessities landing on the ground next to him. I go back into the kitchen and recommence preparing the food for tonight’s dinner, my brother sniffing the air and sighing in content.

“I take it ya like the apron, eh?” Daniel giggles when I look at the apron I was donning: it has stripes of both light pink and hot pink, with the words ‘Will cook for shoes. Lots and lots of shoes....’ written on it in girly cursive, with red high-heels dancing around the hem.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I deadpan. And just to get him to laugh, I reenact the West Side Story song that Maria performed in that clothes shop. “I’m so pretty~, oh so pretty~...” I even prance around and hold the apron like a ballerina skirt.

Daniel laughs hard, clutching his sides in pure joy. I don’t care if I emasculated myself. As long as my brother is happy, I’m happy. And that’s all that matters.

I finally finish up with creating dinner: fettucini alfredo with shrimp and white wine cream sauce that was boiled to remove the alcohol. Once we get our grub on and wash it down with either water or juice, we laze back on the couch in front of the 36” flat-screen TV, our bellies content that they were filled with food. “Hey, man, wanna play some video games?” Daniel asks as he holds up a Nintendo Wiimote.

“No way, dude, ya always beat me,” I respond.

“Tell no one!!!” We crack up again at our inside joke. Regardless, I let Daniel play “The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess” on the Wii while I re-read “Homer’s Odyssey”. The time flies like a tumbleweed in a sandstorm, and when I look back at the clock, it reads eleven fifty-six at night.

“Alrighty, Danny, time for bed,” I say as I place a bookmark in my tome and close it.

“Damn it, I still haven’t beaten Morpheel yet!” He proclaims as I watch Link swim around in the Lakebed Temple, the giant sea creature boss Morpheel swimming around idiotically.

“Pfft. Move aside, noob,” I grunt. Daniel pauses, quickly hands me the Wiimote and Nunchuck, and I unpause. Within a matter of minutes, I defeat Morpheel via many an eye stabbing and collect both the final piece of Midna’s mask and the Heart Container that I need.

Once everything is taken care of, I save the game and turn off the console and TV. “Alrighty, now. Bedtime, man.”

Daniel gives a fake sigh of exasperation, a smirk on his face. He sets up his sleeping bag and grabs his pajamas and toothbrush, ready to turn in for the night.

After we finished brushing our teeth to remove any stray pieces of Italian food, we head for our resting spot, mine being the bedroom at the end of the short hallway, Daniel’s being on the wide couch, in his sleeping bag.

“Hey, Damien?”

“Yeah, laddie?” I get taken aback when Daniel gives me a massive hug.

“Love ya, big bro.”

I smile warmly and return his massive hug. “I love ya, too.”

I hold myself tightly, tears still leaking from my eyes like broken fire hydrants. I fall over, pounding the ground in irritation with my fist. I can’t believe it... Daniel... my little brother... gone forever.

Why?

I feel warm and comforting fur close in on me, and I look up through bloodshot eyes to see Kaileena holding me again. “Shh... It’s gonna be okay...” she whispers to me.

“B-bullshit,” I stutter melancholically. I remove myself from her again and roll so that I face away from her. “With my brother gone? No way in hell will it be okay....”

I stand up and grab my scythe, just to do something other than sit there. I walk over to a nearby pond and wash my face. Once the rippling is over. I look into it to see an two crossed scars in the center of my face and a vertical scar over my left eye, the latter unharmed from the gash. As I gaze deeper into the pond, I see that my facial features are like something pulled straight out of an anime show.

I sigh in frustration. So those Diamond Dogs had indeed gotten some hits on me, and not just on my body.

I walk back to where the protection spell is casted, which took a lot of time because Kaileena is still inside and I can neither see nor hear her.

I sit cross-legged once I do enter the protective circle. “Damien, what’s on your mind?” Kaileena asks me. She crawls over to me and puts her head in my lap. I don’t object, nor do I agree with the action itself.

I sigh once more. “My mind feels so empty,” I respond. I’m at a lack of words: if you had lost someone you loved more than anything in the world, how would you respond to a question like that?

I look at Ellipsis and its dimly-glowing gemstone. “But you wanna know what I do when I’m like this?” I say after a few moments.

“Hmm?” She turns her full attention to me now.

“This... Musica a Memoria.”

The glow of Ellipsis’s gemstone finally fades back to its original blackness at my spell. A sound of ambiance, followed by the strum of an acoustic guitar, begin to resonate around us.

“Oh yeah.... oh yeah....

Sometimes the edge serves as more than a friend than you thought it would be...

And the pages you write in your journal each night are your only release...

And the mask you put on, it’s like words in a song, but there’s more to be seen...

And the failures you see don’t seem failures to me here at all....

“Oh, I’m begging you: no...

There’s more life left to go...

Oh, I’m begging you: please...

‘Cause I... I don’t want you to leave....

“Alone as you walk through a crowd and it’s awkward like nobody sees...

And you can't help but wonder would anyone come after you if you’d leave...

So a pain grows inside and a fear comes alive like you’ll never be free...

But there’s no pain you feel that I know love can't heal here at all....

“Oh, I’m begging you: no...

There’s more life left to go...

Oh, I’m begging you: please...

‘Cause I... I don’t want you to leave me....

“To leave me here on my own;

There’s nothing to run from!

Oh, there’s nothing but fear inside you!

Oh, I just hope I can find you,

And tell you that I know you’ll smile again...

Oh, I’m begging you: no...

More life left to go...

Oh, I’m begging you: please...

‘Cause I don’t want you to leave....”

The song comes to an end, and fades into nothingness. I look down and see Kaileena’s eyes leaking tears at a ludicrous rate. She slowly raises herself, only for her to bury her face into my chest and weep heavily into it.

I look up into the night sky while cradling the sobbing Bast. I let out one last sigh before I lay down, hoping to fall into a sleep that I pray that I won’t wake up from.

“Good night, sweet prince....”

XIII - What Was Lost

Leather-Winged Oddity

XIII - What Was Lost

Something is terribly wrong.

Usually, I can never know what that something is until right before it happens, and I either stop it right in the nick of time or I am too late to prevent it from happening.

And it is one of those times where I’m not even around to stop it from happening.

Even worse, there’s something niggling in the back of my head, a usual sign that something else will happen. I wouldn’t exactly call it Extrasensory Perception, or special clairvoyant abilities. More like a main course of paranoia, with a side of tentativeness.

Poor Daniel... he didn’t have to go. Like Safetysuit perfectly said, there was more life left to go. It’s all my fault. I should’ve stayed by his side and keep him safe. Now he’s gone because of me... because I had been so careless into accepting Nut’s offe-

NUT!

It was HER fault! Had she not taken me here, everything would be normal... Daniel would still be alive, I’d still be normal, and I’d still have my friends...

Oh, but what’s the use? Who the hell knows where she is now, and I not only don't have a way back home, but now? Now I don’t have anyone else left. My brother and dad have kicked the bucket, and God knows how many half-siblings my mom has created in my absence to cope with the loss.

Aw well...

I open my eyes, ready to greet the world of Equis and the adventures and quests it holds before me.

But I don’t see the world.

Instead, I wake up to pure blankness. The entire environment was a pure, glowing sky blue. White minuscule orbs of light drift around lazily in some nonexistent breeze. I go to touch one, my finger nudging an orb and causing some sort of droplet sound effect. The tiny orb bounces of and drifts away, the spot where my finger touched it now warm and soothing.

When I see my hand, my brows raise. They aren’t their usual Caucasian color, but instead, they’re an exotic dark tan hue. I examine my body even more, and see that it is also a dark tan, but more muscular than before, the exotic color accenting my black feathers quite nicely. The scars I have accumulated all of my life still remain. The only clothing I have on is an white and gold-trimmed Egyptian man-skirt. Around my neck is an ankh necklace wrought from pure gold. I look at the glass floor I’m resting on. Like my body, my face is tan as well. My eyes. however, are decorated with Egyptian kohl.

My God, I’m such a sexy beast.

I go to stand up upon the stained glass floor of the large and wide platform that sits beneath me. The glass is stylized to look like something out of a Kingdom Hearts game, where the glass resembles a mural. Situated in the middle of the mural were multiple figures, each one divine and serene as the next. I see the Princesses Celestia, Luna, and Cadence, Discord, Somnambula (who I think is from the G1 Series of the show, after I wikipedia’d the MLP franchise for a bit), Loki, Cthulhu (Urgh...), someone who I think might be considered Lady Luck, and many more, some I can’t identify off the top of my head, and others I have neither seen or heard of before.

But what catches my eye is the navy blue-skinned, glowing-eyed, human figure floating in the sidelines, wearing a dress woven from the stars, her hair being the same material.

‘Nut,’ my mind says automatically, albeit with a twinge of anger.

I step back from the center and examine the rest of the mural. Around the rim are an odd assortment of creatures, each one being the size of my hand as the figures marched in a circle like soldiers for war. One picture depicted a griffin wielding a giant black greatsword; the next is what looked like a Diamond Dog in a green duster; next is a Bast in brown clothes; a woman with pointy ears and a large black sword; a silver bipedal wolf with a black katana and Japanese clothes; a winged wolf with chocolate-colored fur; a humanoid changeling donning parade clothing and strumming an ax-like guitar; what I presume to be a bugbear with a metallic arm and a crossbow; a Minotaur with a gem-encrusted battleaxe; a red-haired satyr with a pouch-holding belt; a mere black cat with a fish in its mouth; a Timber Wolf; a grey humanoid-devil that reminded me of Hellboy, guns and large stone fist and all; what could possibly be a brown Werehog with a straw hat on its head; a tree-person that is strikingly similar to a human-shaped Deku Scrub; a strange black anthropomorphic dog with cat-like ears and long tail, slim appendages, and is decorated with neon-green tribal markings; an actual Ent of what appears to be sycamore; a large ape wearing a red tie (Donkey Kong?); a silver dragon in stylish red clothes; a wingless black dragon; a red dragon with black diamond-shaped shields on his arms; a gargoyle; a zebra; a Samurai Nobody with katanas on his/her/its back; a skeleton with a warped red sword and round shield; and multiple other creatures...

...and finally, me, marching proudly with my scythe in hand.

I recognize that pointy-eared woman... that winged wolf.... that brown bast... and that Diamond Dog.

The first three I had seen in that vision, when I drank from the Fountain of Gods’ Tears, a name that was given to that fountain by the Urukai...

...Psych, I’m just kidding, I made up that name. Works swell, though, right?

But I digress. The Bast and the Diamond Dog I had already met. Khajiit and Echo, now that I reflect on it, are probably two of the many who were sent to Equestria via very bored gods and goddesses. These other characters, these... chess pieces... must also be fans of the MLP:FiM franchise, or at least have heard of it.

Maybe this is what Nut spoke about when I first awoke on the beach of the Ring Sea? Meeting all these other characters?

“Ah... you've come to,” an all-too-familiar voice declares. I whip around to face who spoke.

Well, speak of the Devil....

“YOU!” I rush at Nut, who is standing on the far end of the platform. I throw a punch at her, only for the Egyptian sky goddess to dissipate on the spot, leaving me punching only air. “TAKE ME BACK!!!” I shout in pure fury as I turn around, spot Nut on the other side, rush her again, and use my wings to jump up and get some air time, preparing me to ax-kick/claw her. She dissipates again and reappears in the center of the platform.

“Damien, stop,” Nut commands, a look of both disdain and worry etched into her face. "Please."

“NO!!! FUCK YOU!!! TAKE ME BACK HOME NOW!!!” I roar as I land on the floor and turn around once more. I go to attack her once more, but she grabs my fist before I can use it to make contact with her. “WHY?! A GODDESS SHOULD KNOW BETTER, DAMN IT!!!”

“ENOUGH!!!” Nut cocks her free fist back and socks me square in the face. The punch is so devastating and powerful that it blows me back several yards, with me ending in a skid across the glass. How I don't have any broken face bones is a mystery. I almost fall off of the platform, but I hold my ground and stay on it. Nut walks over to me and picks me up by my hair. Despite her curvaceous frame, Nut is actually incredibly strong... like those buff guys you see lifting those huge weights in the Olympics. “Are you done?” Nut asks, her voice quivering from how hard she was straining to keep her voice level. I nod, still dripping with both rage and pain. “Good.”

“Why did you bring me here?” I demand. In lieu of answering this, Nut drops me on my feet and turns around. She waves her hand in an arcing horizontal fashion. Something glimmering trails over where her hand had wavered, and a small portal appeared. I walk over to the portal and see it: Earth, still spinning in its everlasting glory. Nut zooms in on the planet, and my heart drops at what I see.

War. So much war and violent manslaughter. From the steel of a sword to the lead of a bullet, blood is spilled, spraying everyone and everything in proximity. Middle Easterners, Australians, Americans, Africans, Asians, and Europeans alike are slaughtering one another mercilessly, bathing in the gore of their fallen foes.

“That’s why,” Nut explains as she waves her hand over the portal and closes it. “Be lucky I brought you here in the nick of time.”

Remember what I said earlier about my brother and dad being the only ones in my family dead? Scratch that, please.

“Certainly,” Nut says.

Goddamnit, not again!

“Oh, hush... are you ready to go back now?” I shake my head. “Well, too bad.” With a small grin, Nut snaps her fingers. The sound of her middle finger slipping off her thumb and smacking her palm rings like a gunshot. The sky goddess vanishes again. The glass beneath my talons shatters, the shards raining down upon whatever is at the bottom of this chasm.

I try flapping my wings to stay afloat, but they refuse to respond to my commands, like Nut also disabled them.

Against my will, I plummet into the chasm.

It’s just one of those days where you don’t want to wake up.

“Damien... Damien... DAMIEN!!! WAKE UP, YOU DUMB SHIT!!!”

...and to make matters more exacerbated, a certain cat-woman with ambivalent feelings for me decides to jack off all over the opportunity to just simply sleep in.

“Mmph... piss off... M’tryin’ t’ sleep,” I mumble blearily.

“C’mon, damn it!” the Bast roars. “It’s half-past noon!”

“So?” Kaileena seethes in frustration before grabbing me by my ankles and dragging me across the dirt. “What the hell?!” I look up to see a nearby pond eerily getting closer, and my heart drops into my stomach. “No no no no no NO!”

“Yes, you lazy prick!” Kaileena chucks me into the drink like a professional Olympic hammer-tosser. I flip and spin multiple times before finally landing in the water. The cold fluid immediately slaps my senses awake and causes me to shiver from the sudden and immediate change from hot to cold. Every single nerve in my body screams in agony from the sheer frigidness of the water.

I quickly pull myself out of the pond and shake myself dry. Kaileena rolls around and clutches her sides as she laughs uproariously at my misfortune. “M-m-m-motherf-f-f-fucker....” I stutter, shivering violently from the water’s chill touch. After a quick inspection, I see that I’m back in my black underclothing and white hooded tunic. My skin is still its usual Caucasian color, and after wiping my eyes a bit, I see no running kohl.

“Are you awake?” the woman asks me smugly as she wipes a tear of mirth from her eye. Regardless of the grimace I fire at her, I nod. She smiles and crosses her legs. “So where are we gonna go now? That town?” She jerks her head to the direction of the town that was a few kilometers from us.

“Eeyup.” I shake myself once more to ensure that I’m completely dry. Kaileena gets to her feet and stretches her limbs. I hesitate before following her towards the town.

There isn’t much scenery to take in: all there is is simply grass, trees, and rocks. Well... except for Kaileena’s round arse slightly wiggling underneath her loincloths as she walks.

...DAT ASS.

“I know you’re staring...” she deadpans. I can feel my face flush at being caught in the act. Kaileena looks behind her to face me and smirks. “If you’re interested in me, just say so~” She flicks her tail playfully in my face. She then walks a bit faster, wiggling her butt and swishing her tail in a more erotic fashion.

...I THINK I’M IN LOVE.

But all possible love stories aside, that went much better than I expected: I thought she was going to kick my ass. Personally, she couldn’t because I could just simply fly away, but in all seriousness, if I didn’t have my wings, she actually would’ve killed me.

However, I digress once more.

Do you also remember what I said about how I’m usually good at figuring out what’s wrong right before it happens?

Well, guess what? Fecal matter has struck the electrical cooling system.

Me and Kaileena are about a third of the way to the town when we both feel the ground rumble beneath our feet. Kaileena quickly draws her hooked sword and I summon Ellipsis from out of the Abyss. Not a moment after we unsheath our weapons does a gargantuan, wormlike creature burrow out of the ground and arcs fifty feet in the air above us, dropping small mounds of unsettled dirt upon us. Before it can burrow back into the earth, I catch a glimpse of it. It is about thirty to forty feet long and fifteen feet wide, causing me to feel so puny under its immense weight and size. The sickly-tan hue of its scaly exterior shined in the light of the sun. The large circular maw, lined with a plethora of sharp teeth, is open wide in ravenous greed.

"Oh hell no!" Kaileena wails. "Trying to hurt this thing's only gonna make it mad! RUN!"

Without hesitation, I scoop Kaileena in my arms and fly up high, making sure to avoid its reach. The Bast in my arms squeaks in surprise before she discovers what I’m doing and clings onto me for dear life.

What the hell is a monster like this doing in the most peaceful country in this world?

Before an answer can be found, the worm shoots out of the earth again, intending to swallow us whole. Sadly for him, we are out of his range at the time.

However, that doesn’t stop him from firing a yellow-green substance at us. I dodge just in time, but the affected area of the back of Kaileena’s loincloths takes some damage. The substance sticks to the bottom of the loincloth, before the affected cloth begins to sizzle and dissolve, the nasty substance being the cause of it as it fell on the ground.

Acid.

“Crap!” She hisses. The monolithic monster burrows back into the earth and jumps back at us again only seconds later, spraying another torrent of acid. I position Kaileena so that I can hold her in one arm and use the other arm to swat the acid away with the flat side of Ellipsis’s blade. While most of the deadly substance is smacked away and goes off in a different direction, some of it adheres to the blade. I would’ve flicked it off...

Had it not been for the acid being sucked up by the blade, leaving the tool of murder untainted as before.

“What the hell...?” I whisper.

“Damien!” Kaileena’s shout snaps me out of my brief trance... that, and the fact that she slapped me across the face. “Focus!” I nod, nursing my now tender cheek. I try and scan for a weak point on the large monster beneath us until I spot-

“Aha!”

A large, abnormal-looking orange eye on top of where the worm’s head would be. That might be it....

I look at Kaileena, who is still clinging to me. “Think ya can hit that eye an’ get rid of it?” I ask. She nods, but I think it was out of reluctance. I smile and wait for the worm to reappear again.

The accursed beast pops out of the ground, mouth still opened widely enough to swallow a house. It tries to spit acid at us again, yet I fly us out of the way. Almost immediately, I rocket over to the eye and drop Kaileena onto its back. She then flips her sword and holds it in an upside down fashion before stabbing it. The monster writhes viciously from the force of the stab and burrows back into the earth, its violent shaking whilst in mid-air causing Kaileena to fall off of its back. I quickly zoom down to catch her, grab her by the hand, and stop her from meeting a nasty fall.

“You got this?!” She asks. I nod, and with an almighty heave, I toss her to the sidelines and away from the battle, and she gracefully flips multiple times before landing on her paws. I turn back to face the monster and fly towards it. The overgrown worm charges at me, and I fly out of the way of its massive mouth.

Unfortunately, I pay no mind to its sharp and spiky tail.

The appendage lashes out at me and hits my left arm, the spikes digging into the flesh. I scream bloody murder from it. Every single muscle in my left arm shrieks in agony as I watch my arm get removed from the spikes of the worm’s tail, the whole event going so slowly that I thought time has slown down. First, the skin... then the flesh... then the muscle... then the actual bone....

This is a pain that practically rivaled crucifixion itself. The spikes must be corrosive as well, for my arm is slowly being eaten away, right before my very eyes. The sight of black blood cascading from my bleeding stump of an arm almost makes me vomit, but I swallow and bite my tongue to prevent that from happening. Summoning all the strength I have, I chuck Ellipsis at the large acid worm. Surprisingly, even impossibly, the scythe’s blade greedily burrows into the eyeball and stays there. I hear a sizzling noise and I glance over to see the eyeball slowly corroding from the blade of the scythe, the destructive dissolving spreading like a wildfire.

So that’s what happened when acid landed on the scythe... the weapon imbibes that which strengthens it....

The beast writhes, squirms, and screeches in despair and excruciation, the eyeball on its head profusely leaking blood. The jerking movements grow weaker and weaker, until finally, it curls up in a little coil and slowly shrivels up, turning from a dirty-tan hue to a black, burnt color. It begins to slowly chip away, until only shriveled pieces that litter the floor are the only evidence to the monster’s existence. Ellipsis falls and lands on the grass with a thud.

The blood loss has made me severely lightheaded, and my breathing became more ragged and weak by the second. The pain in my arm is so blinding and terrible that I can barely keep my balance when I land precariously on the earth. Kaileena rushes over to me and catches me in her arms right when I lose my balance and fall.

“Damien!” She cries, tears almost ready to leave their ducts. Her voice grows fainter and fainter as my vision starts going darker, like my brain wants to shut down again. “It’s gonna be ok... it’s gonna be alright.... I promise....”

I can feel my heart slowing down a bit...

"Stay with me, damn it!"

But... I don't want to... I feel so heavy... so tired, even.

Surely... it can't hurt to sleep in for a little bit... right....?

"DAMIEN, DON'T YOU DARE CLOSE YOUR EYES!"

I just want to sleep, Kaileena.... that's all I want right now... and nothing else....

Shadow: I do not own ANY of the characters on that mural.... except for my own character. A lot of them go to the authors for the Chessverse, so.... yeah. It'd be nigh-impossible to name them all w/o getting confused.

XIV - "It Feels Good To Ventilate"

Shadow: Oh, man! I can't believe I never got to thank Appletank, QuickSilverPaul, and all the other Chessverse authors/story-readers for catching my mistakes throughout the story! And I also thank all of YOU guys for sticking with this story. For anyone wondering what timeline I’m in, I’m a day after the GGG scene.

Also: HIP-HOP ALERT. It’s not gonna be that modern horse shit like Lil Wayne or Drake, it’ll be Nujabes and Shing02 (the guys who made the Samurai Champloo intro song), but it’ll still be hip-hop. For those of you who don’t like hip-hop, you have been warned. For those who do, kudos.

In other news, I want to try a different approach for this chapter and the next. Why not tell them through the eyes of someone else... a certain sexy feline someone, to be precise...

Leather-Winged Oddity

XIV - “It Feels Good To Ventilate”

Kaileena

“Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no no no no NO!”

I quickly delve into Damien’s backpack and rummage around for one of the first aid kits inside the seemingly-bottomless pack. When one nudges my paw, I pull it out, open the kit, and pull out both the bacteria-killing liquid, a thick absorbing pad, and a long bandage. I dump some liquid on the pad, apply it to his gaping stump of an arm, and hear the sizzle of bacteria being annihilated. Damien grits his teeth and grunts in pain, but it subsides seconds later. I almost apologize at his pain, but I remember that this is all necessary for it to work. At once, I wrap up his stump in the bandage, the pad still inside to absorb any blood.

That’ll hold... for now.

I sling the unconscious Devil Imp over my shoulders, my chest rapidly rising and falling with each hyperventilated breath of nervousness I take as I stand up, pick up Ellipsis in my mouth, and sprint to the town, my gigantic stride from my long legs giving me an extra boost. The wind from the air resistance stings my eyes and blows me back slightly as I gallop ferociously towards that town... what was it called again? Ah, Ponyville. That’s right.

“Hang in there, Damien,” I plead, my voice muffled by the cloths of the the scythe. “Just hang in there....”

Each minute wasted running, I can practically feel Damien dying slowly. I bite down harder on the haft of Ellipsis to prevent from tearing up and continue blazing through the fields of Equestria. Normally, I would’ve gotten there by now; however, with Damien’s weight slowing me down, that isn’t the case.

Minutes still crawl by, and my breathing starts to become ragged and labored from both lifting someone rather heavy and sprinting as fast as I can. But at last, at long last, I reach the town known as Ponyville.

Right when it gets swamped with early morning traffic.

But upon seeing me with an injured person, the thick crowd of equine citizens part for me, like I’m some sort of prophet splitting a sea in half.

I flash a small smile at them all before continuing my sprint down the roads. I have no idea where to turn, and my colorblind eyes are inept at making out discernible hues or palettes that would lead me in the right direction of a hospital.

“Someone!” I cry desperately as I spit Ellipsis out into my open palm. “Please help! I need to get this man to a hospital!”

“It’s down that road! Take the first right and you’ll get there!” A pony with wings informs me. I smile at her in thanks for the information and bolt down the street. At the first right I spot, I take it and continue going down the road until I reach a large building. The sunshade that it has installed would shield others from the harsh rays of the sun. The large cross on the building above the sunshade, as well as the small sign with the bottoms of four hearts pointing towards the corners of a cross, tells me at once that this is the right place.

Without hesitation, I bust through the door and run down the hall, calling for a doctor as loud as I can, completely disregarding the mare at the desk shouting, “WAIT! YOU NEED A SET UP AN APPOINTMENT!” at me.

As I dash down the labyrinth-like halls, still shouting my head off for medical attention, another pony sticks his head out: a unicorn with a parted mane in a white coat, his face contorted in frustration, then worry.

How do I know his coat’s white? Remember, Bast are blind to colors, not to shades, like white, black, and gray. Because that’s all we actually can see.

“What’s going on?!” The unicorn demands.

“Sir,” I wheeze, “this man *wheeze* needs medical attention. *Cough cough* Please *pant* help him!”

The pony puts a hoof to his chin and ponders on what to do. Really? He’s going to fucking decide on whether someone lives or dies? Is every single pony in Equestria that racist? It’s why I hate most doctors: they’re complete and total sadists. They like to play as a god and watch people suffer.

“Very well,” the doctor finally determines as he steps aside and allows us entry.

...Note to self: Shut the fuck up before I assume stuff.

“Th-thank you,” I say before walking into the room. I didn’t need to see colors to witness the pale, blinding whiteness of the room. I have to narrow my eyes very well to try and adjust to the sudden brightness I’m exposed to. The smell of sterilized items hits my nose and causes me to wrinkle it in disdain. The smell isn’t usually what I’m accustomed to. A window on the far side of the room lets in the precious sunlight that warms up the affected area of the black-and-white chessboard-styled tile floor. The right wall holds a hospital bed, flanked by a lamp-bearing desk on its left and an open concealing curtain on its right. The same goes for the bed on the left wall.

I quickly go inside and lay Damien gently on the bed on the left. He winces in pain, but the facial expression and feeling seem to fade when his face returns to its normal appearance. I sigh as the unicorn pulls a chair out from the sidelines with his magic and hands it over to me. I take it, position it under me, and take a seat next to Damien. “Will he be alright, doctor?”

“Well, of course he’ll make it... but I’m afraid he won’t be able to reattach a replacement for that forele- er, arm,” the doctor confesses as he hooks Damien to a machine that seems to beep at the same rate of his heart beat. “However, that doesn’t mean we can’t help him. We can give him a prosthetic, which should get here tomorrow if I order it today... and if Derpy doesn’t mess up the delivery again....”

“That’s... nice...” I trail off. This “Derpy” sounds like a troublemaker, yet a lovable kind of pony. “Erm... Doctor, is it okay if I can have a minute alone?”

“Certainly, madam...” he says before he exits the room. I look back at Damien and smile sadly. I feel my cheeks burn slightly when my eyes trace his face. I care not for what others would bad-mouth about his scars: I think they make him look even more attractive, in a dangerous sense.

“Damien... I honestly hope you get better. I’m so glad I got you here in time.” I also don’t care that my words fall on deaf ears: it feels good to ventilate, even if no one could hear you. “If... if you had di- uh... gone, I would’ve had to go back to the village, and this incredible adventure would’ve come to an end....

“Also... there’s something I have to tell you... something of the utmost importance.” I swallow with difficulty, as if something is clogging my throat. I take a deep breath, and wring my paws. “I... I...”

Damn it, ‘Leena, say it! Just say it and get it over with, already!

“I... like you. Like... really, really like you.” It’s as if there was once an iron weight in my chest, and now that I finally said that, I can practically feel the weight leaving me. In terms of emotions, I feel so much lighter than I did before. “It’s just that... you’re kind, sweet, funny, and you’re always willing to help others with their problems... and protect them from harm. You saved my village from those Diamond Dogs, you helped Khajiit, Ren, and Faultless out of jail... and you saved me from that worm... and you never even asked for any rewards, either... I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done....”

I grasp his limp hand and smile, his low, quiet breathing being the only response to the truth I’ve expelled onto him. I stand up, my paw still in his hand, and bend over to face him. My heart is frantically racing in my chest, and my face has never felt so flushed before, despite all of the fur that conceals it. I swallow once more, my throat still feeling like sandpaper. I close my eyes and plant a kiss on his cheek. The feel of soft flesh on my lips feels foreign, yet... nice. I savor every second of it. My lips finally leave his face after several seconds of just standing there and showing him as much love as I could in his current state. I turn around and head for the door, my paw now vacant of his frail grip.

“You’ll get better soon, Damien. I promise.” I open the door and leave the room. The doctor is still standing there, glad to see that he no longer has to wait for me to finish up.

“I seem to notice that the attempts to decontaminate and seal up the wound aren’t successful,” he says. I grimace: he didn’t have to rush to save anyone’s life, now did he? “I just hope that I can repair the damage done to it and fix the wound before the prosthetic gets here tomorrow.”

“Interesting... so what do I do until then?”

“Whatever you want to do. However... don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Fair enough.” I quickly go back inside and grab Damien’s backpack from off the floor next to the bed he occupies and leave the room again. As I sit on the chair outside the room, I look at the backpack. Surely, he has something to entertain someone, right?

I open the zipper and rummage through it, my paw practically sinking into the seemingly-bottomless inside of the bag. Where is that little glass glowing rectangle he has...?

Almost at once, the aforementioned item gets nudged by my paw, almost as if the bag knew what I was looking for and helped me out in finding it. I pull out the rectangle and look at it. It has a white face and silver back, with a little circle at what I suspect is the bottom of the shape’s front. Most of it was an opaque black, however. I run a digit over the circle on the face and apply a bit of pressure. Immediately, most of the glass surface glows a bright light. I jump ever-so-slightly as I see the glass display a small little arrow on a box pointing to the right, with words I can’t translate inside the slide that the arrow-bearing box rests in. I touch the box curiously, and the box seems to fidget slight at my touch. I let out a small yelp: how can glass respond to touch?

Regardless, I look at the arrow, then at my digit. After making the connection, I slide the box to the right, and I hear an unlocking sound. I blink in confusion as another screen appears: Nine dots, in three rows and columns. I touch a random dot, which is surrounded by a gray color at my touch. I don’t yelp or jump this time, but instead, I touch another dot. Same response. I slide one digit between two dots, and a thin line comes in between the two dots I just touched. When my digit left the second dot, the line glows a different, darker shade of gray, and disappears.

OK... so I have to connect the dots in the right order.

I pull a deadpanned look as I make a zigzag pattern on the nine dots, the top three to the right, then going diagonally to the left and down to hit the middle dot and the bottom left dot, then right again on the bottom three dots.

Not only do these lines of light gray not darken, but another sound of something unlocking ensues, and I am brought to a screen with about twenty rounded-square icons.

Predictable Damien....

Rolling my eyes at how easy that was, I press an icon that holds a music note, and out pops a list of what I think is names of the singers. I’ve never even heard of these guys, let alone can read their names. Maybe they’re all just part of that otherworldly music of Damien’s.

I move my thumb digit up on the screen, and the list of names scrolls up rapidly. I thumb a random name and it blinks a plain, typical gray for a second. It might’ve been a different color to someone else, but to me, every single color is rendered monochromatic. Another pops up. I hit a random name with my thumb once more

Another final screen appears, with two sliders at the bottom and top. On the bottom is a set of two bars laid out vertically, with two conjoined arrows pointing in different directions flanking the two bars. A picture rests in the middle of the screen, depicting a gecko clinging onto the stem of a leaf. In the background is the white moon, which is partially blocked out by the leaves and branches of an exotic-looking tree.

But accompanying the picture is the sound of a kicking beat and an ambient tune flowing freely from the machine.

I squeak at the sudden introduction of the music. A Pegasus mare next to me shushes me for being too loud with the music. So I rummage through the pack for something that’ll make me and only me hear the music. I pull out a long white cord that seems to split in half. One end has a metal pin, while the two ends have rubber buds at the ends. Hurriedly, I put the buds in my ears and stick the metal pin in a narrow hole on the bottom of the rectangle. Soon, I hear a man’s voice ring out with the music into my ears and my ears alone. The voice is so catchy, I actually start mouthing the words.

“Sharp like an edge of a samurai sword

The mental blade cut through flesh and bone

Though my mind's at peace, the world out of order

Missing the inner heat, life gets colder

Oh yes, I have to find my path

No less, walk on earth, water, and fire

The elements compose a magnum opus

My modus is operandi is amalgam

Steel packed tight in microchip

On my arm a sign of all-pro

The ultimate reward is honor, not awards

At odds with the times in wars with no lords

A freelancer,

A battle cry of a hawk make a dove fly and a tear dry

Wonder why a lone wolf don't run with a klan

Only trust your instincts and be one with the plan

Some days, some nights

Some live, some die

In the way of the samurai

Some fight, some bleed

Sunup to sundown

The sons of a battlecry

Some days, some nights

Some live, some die

In the name of the samurai

Some fight, some bleed

Sunup to sundown

The sons of a battlecry...

A battlecry...."

There is but a blank ambiance and kicking beat still, the lyrics pausing for a moment. They start up again several seconds later.

"Look, just the air around him

An aura surrounding the heir apparent

He might be a peasant but shine like grand royalty

He to the people and land, loyalty

We witness above all to hear this,

Sea sickness in the ocean of wickedness

Set sail to the sun set no second guessing

Far east style with the spirit of wild west

The "quote-unquote" code stands the test of

Time for the chosen ones to find the best of

Noble minds that ever graced the face of

A hemisphere with no fear, fly over

The blue yonder where

The sky meets the sea

And eye meets to eye

And boy meets world

And became a man to serve the world

To save the day, the night, and the girl too

Some days, some nights

Some live, some die

In the way of the samurai

Some fight, some bleed

Sunup to sundown

The sons of a battlecry

Some days, some nights

Some live, some die

In the name of the samurai

Some fight, some bleed

Sunup to sundown

The sons of a battlecry...

A battlecry....”

The lyrics have ended, yet there is a few seconds of ambiance, like before. Those few seconds end, and the song makes its conclusion.

Suddenly, another song with kicking beat commences, but the ambiance and the light piano key-tickling that replace the beat make the song sound more... soothing. Smoother, maybe.

Despite the hardness and awkward feel of this chair, it now feels... inviting. Comfortable. I can feel my eyelids getting heavy. I jerk awake every time this happens, but with each time, it grows stronger and stronger. I can tell right away that I need to sleep. After all, not only did I fight a massive acid-spitting worm. I hauled one-hundred-sixty-pound man whilst running as fast as possible. Without warning, I turn my body so that I take up four chairs instead of one. I lay down and close my eyes, my brain now ready to turn off for the moment.

And the dream that visits me in my deep sleep... is the most wonderful thing in the world....

Shadow: Man, trying to write in a woman's point of view is difficult. I had to try and find my "feminine self" for this. Hope you liked the chapter, guys. I'm headin' to bed. So g'night/morning/afternoon to you all.

XV - The Majesty of Colors

Shadow: Once again, this is in Kaileena's POV. And MAN, is it hard to write through a woman's perspective. It's like trying to solve a 100 X 100 Rubik's cube. Also, this is mostly a dream chapter, so it's supposed to be relatively short. Go ahead, call it gay, but I like to see YOU try and write in a woman's perspective. Plus, I plan on collaborating w/ Doctor D in the next chapter, so I had to make it a bit short. Enjoy, ladies and gentlemen!

Leather-Winged Oddity

XV - The Majesty of Colors

Kaileena

Bright sunlight warms my closed eyelids slightly. I can feel the wind tickle my face a bit, and soft grass beneath my back. I crack open my eyes and shield them again, for the light of the sun against the blue sky nearly blinds me.

Wait a minute... blue sky?

Completely disregarding the sun’s brightness, I open my eyes and glare wondrously at the sky. Indeed, it is a rich, beautiful cerulean. I look down at the grass, each and every botanical blade being as shiny, sleek, and green as a polished emerald. My tribal clothing are also green, yet a shade or two darker than the grass beneath my posterior.

I could see colors...!

I wanted to scream out in joy at this discovery. Never before had I ever even got to witness the beauty of all these palettes of the rainbow, appearing as vivid and surreal as a fever dream. The majesty of colors that graces my eyes is so gorgeous... so incredible.

If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up. I want to stay here in this colourful wonderland, dancing the grass, basking in the sun, and live peacefully.

My sensitive ears twitch slightly as I pick up the sound of... music?

Indeed so. I could hear the sounds of a harp’s strings being plucked, the cacophony of notes transforming into something that would cause the most heavenly of angels’ choirs to pale in comparison to the music that tickles my ears and causes my heart to flutter. I stand to my feet and try to pinpoint the sound’s source. At first, it was simply a walk. But now, as time passes, I start picking up more speed, my paws harshly thumping on the soft grass and brown dirt.

The jog then evolves to a run, which then spawns a full-out sprint. I continue to run faster, my breathing now heavy from using up my stamina. The music gets louder and louder, but I don’t even feel remotely close to the source. It feels so strange....

After a quick bout of sprinting, I come to a sudden stop at the presence of some sort of ruins. Moss and shamrocks grow on all the decrepit rocks that had fallen and weathered away by eons of existence. The archway bears vines that dangle a sparse few feet above the cobblestone path, which was also stained green with moss. The sounds of insects and birds reaches my ears and causes them to twitch slightly. I venture slowly inside the ruins, where I confirmed the music is coming from. I step down a stone staircase towards what appears to be the remains of a massive stone amphitheatre, with stone blocks that substitute as chairs scattered here and there.

In the middle of the amphitheatre is when I see him.

He is sitting on a small wooden stool, its color indicating that it is possibly oak. He wears only the lower half of a white gown, the gold trim of it shining in the light of the sun. Around the long kilt-like robe is a large cloth of red silk, fluttering slightly in the breeze. The black wings on his head shine like obsidian in the light. His golden eagle legs, are crossed, his right bent over his left. I gasp when I see that his left hand is whole and undamaged as he plucks the strings of a giant golden harp before him.

What makes the image so much more serene is that his eyes are closed as he plays the harp so harmoniously, it almost lulls me to sleep with how soothing it is.

Damien...

I slowly walk over to him and sit down on one of the stone blocks, watching him with a grin as he continues to play the music. He opens his eyes and smiles my way. I glance in another direction, my cheeks stilling getting hotter under his gaze. Luckily, Damien closes his eyes and returns his full attention to his harp. Out of the corner of my eye, I see someone coming my way. I turn my head to see a woman coming our way. She has a dress woven from stars that glitter brightly on their own. Her long and wavy hair is also dotted with stars, sprinkles of white against a navy blue background. Her skin is also navy blue, and as flawless as cut diamonds. Her eyes are what mystify me the most: they are blank and unseeing, glowing brightly and emitting a small trail of steam, yet I can feel her gazing at me... and her soft glare pierces every fiber of my being like a needle through cloth.

“Hello, young Bast,” the woman says, her voice swirling around me. It seems to be coming from all sides, that voice, but in the end, it all comes from the same source.

“H...Hello,” I say shyly, curling up slightly. There was something about this woman that just oozes power, like she would eviscerate me if I speak ill of her.

“Please don’t be afraid,” the woman coaxes. I slowly unwind from my frail fetal position. She comes over and offers her hand to me, but her palm is facing down. Isn’t she going to help me up? “M... may I pet you?”

“Uhhh...” I don’t give a direct answer to her as my eyes shift to and fro, in the hopes that something, anything, will give me an answer that would suffice for this strangely-powerful woman. “S...sure?”

At my word of consent, the woman smiles, showing her incredibly white and shiny teeth that sparkle magnificently. Her hand pats my head and gives it a good pet. Her touch feels... so strangely warm. Gentle, too.

Before I know it, I’m practically purring under this woman’s glorious touch. She gives a slight chuckle before pulling away and walking back to Damien, who is still playing the harp. “You know, he speaks rather highly of you.” I feel my face grow warm at her words.

“He does?” I begin smiling.

“Of course. He tells me in his thoughts that you are always helpful, always kind, and you’ve saved his life twice.”

“His thoughts?” Despite her nod, I’m puzzled by that statement. How can she read his thoughts?

“Because, as you can tell, I’m not what you would call normal.” Okay, how the fuck did she do that?! “What, a deity isn’t allowed to read thoughts anymore?” Wait, what? A deity? “Eeyup.”

“Could you please stop doing that?” I implore her. She chuckles a bit into her hand and kneels down to my eye level.

“Of course, my dear...” She pats my back and glances at Damien. “Y’know, you two would make a cute couple....”

“Enough, already...” I grumble, but that still doesn’t stop me from blushing even further. The woman chuckles again. “Hang on a damn second, who are you?” I demand as I stand up and away from her.

“Her name’s Nut,” A new, yet very familiar voice says. We both turn our heads to see Damien quit playing his harp. He stands up and walks over to us, a smile on his face as he looks at me.

His eyes.... they’re beautiful.

Pools of blood-red only paint the whites of the Devil Imp’s eyes, which bear some sort of kindred, sympathetic aura that emanates from them. The dark lines that outline them only pop them out more and more. The longer I stare, the more lost I become in those luscious and vivid rubies.

“Nut... I wish t’ ask a favor o’ ya.” The woman known as Nut turns her head to Damien, who leans in to whisper in her ear.

“Certainly, my pawn,” Nut says, smiling slightly as Damien pulls away. She looks at me with an even larger smile. She pats my head again, but something about it seems off: a pat on the head shouldn’t make me feel so light-headed, nor should my eyes slightly roll around in my head.

“Kaileena?” He then says as he offers me a hand.

“Yes~?” I reply a bit stupidly as I take his hand. I shake my head and restart. “Yes?” Before I know it, he grabs of my hips and holds me tight before beating his large wings and taking off for the sky. The closeness makes my heart race and my brain shut down a tad.

“Thy lips are like wine...” he coos, bringing his face eerily closer. My heart almost stops from the closeness. “And I want a taste...”

He closes the distance between me and him. The feel is so... so real. Like this isn’t a dream and that this actually is happening. I squeak in surprise before slowly melting into the kiss, my eye closing in a dramatic fashion. I feel his tongue poke my teeth, and I open them and allow his tongue entry, the organ dancing and weaving like a snake.

Again... this is a dream that I wish I wouldn’t wake up from....

But sadly, that’s not the case.

“Excuse me miss... miss... Ma’am, wake up!”

I jolt awake, my eyes wide in shock. I grasp my head in one hand, while the little rubber buds in my ears fall out from my sudden movement. I see the unicorn doctor from earlier, his blue eyes gazing at me in concern as a frown was etched upon his orange-yellow furry face.

Wait... orange-yellow face?! BLUE EYES?!

“Oh shit...”

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The unicorn inquires in concern. “You’ve been sleeping here for the past twelve hours!” Twelve hours?! Sure, cats sleep for a long time, but damn!

I look around me. Nothing is in a grayscale style anymore. Instead, everything is painted in a myriad of colors. Blue chairs, white hallways, blue and white tiles, and the occasional green shrubbery. It's as if a massive bucket of rainbow paint just exploded.

I could see colors... again!

*Warning. Warning. Brain malfunctioning. I repeat: brain malfunctioning. Commence total freakout?*

Yes.

“Um... could you excuse me for a second?” I ask the unicorn.

“Certainly,” he responds.

“Thanks.” I promptly get up and clear my throat. “FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-”

XVI - The Requiems Of Nobodies

Shadow: Me and Doctor D have just graced you all with an 11k-word chapter. Be grateful, damn you.

Leather-Winged Oddity

XVI - The Requiems of Nobodies

There is always a dark side to us. Always.

Sure, we don’t see it, but it’s constantly there. It lurks in the darkest corners of our hearts and minds, ready to strike and make itself known like some sort of evil cobra. It lives in us. It breathes our hatred, bathes in our anger, and devours our melancholy, making it the most ultimate lifeform.

There is no escaping it. Every corner you turn, no matter where you go, will always bring you to it.

Because our dark side is always our worst nightmare... and is our most terrifying nemes-

“FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-”

...Damn it, Kaileena, why did you just interrupt me in the middle of my deep and meaningful speech towards the readers? What the hell is wrong with you?

...Ahem. Anyway... now that my small burst of fury has subsided, I can finally get back to you guys.

Now where was I...? Ah, yes!

I crack open my eyes, my breathing surprisingly regulated despite the hyperventilation I had before I went out like a light. The brightness of the room catches my eyes by surprises, causing me to shut them again. The luminance of the room itself starts to give me... a little headache.

“UrrrrrrrrrghohgoodGodmefuckin’headnnnrrrrrgh...”

...OK, a massive headache. I blink several times in order for my retinas to adjust to the room. Every inch of me feels sore, but much less so than before. I raise my head and examine my surroundings. It appears to be... some sort of hospital room. White and light-blue tiling, fluorescent ceiling lights (How the hell is there electricity in Equestria?), shrouding curtains, side tables, and two beds, one of them I am currently occupying, and the other as vacant as a dilapidated building. The black void that the window bears signifies that it’s nighttime.

I sigh in relief and smile: Kaileena had been quick enough to stop me from bleeding out and dying right there. But when I look at my left side, my feeling of relief becomes ephemeral, vanishing in the blink of an eye and becoming the emotion of dread.

Replacing my stub of a left arm is a large narrow block of wood that is painted to be the same color as my skin. At the end of the block are five stubs that seem to be a sad excuse for fingers, seeing as how they’re different lengths. I tap the arm with a knuckle from my right hand, and the sound of actual wood getting struck rings out across the room. I sigh, this time in sadness. I turn my head and see IV tubes in my arm, with a bag of water in it. Without thinking of whatever consequences that might await me, I yank the tube off of my arm, wincing only slightly at the pain. I stand, yet become a bit lightheaded and woozy from how suddenly I got up. I shake my head to get rid of the lightheadedness. I take a few deep breaths before looking down at myself to see if I was removed of my clothes. Sure enough, I see myself in the typical hospital gown. How they managed to get it to fit me is a total mystery, mainly because the gowns should be small enough to fit a pony, like when Rainbow Dash injured her wing and had to go here in that one episode... what was it called again? Ah! It was “Read It and Weep”.

But all reminiscence of cartoons for children aside, I’m so grateful for Kaileena. Once more, if it hadn’t been for her, I would’ve been dead awhile ago. I just hope Nut listened to my request and performed what I asked her to do....

I look for my clothes, and I find them sitting on a chair next to the bed, right beside Ellipsis. I walk over to the chair, take my clothes, hide behind the curtain, and change my outfit. It was a tad difficult to get my wooden arm through the hole of my longsleeve shirt and tunic, but in the end, I finally do it right after a few tries and fails.

Once my belt and bandolier are equipped once more, I pick up Ellipsis, making sure to banish it to the Abyss before I go out in public: don’t wanna scare anypony, do I? But then again, my appearance alone would probably frighten multiples ponies, so it doesn’t even matter.

Regardless, I peek my head outside of the room, but I raise a brow and frown at the sight.

Kaileena is freaking out, her eyes as small as dust specs. The doctor, possibly the one who gave me the prosthetic, is trying (and failing. Miserably) to calm her down. “Madam, please calm down!”

“No! Don’t you understand!?” She grabs the doctor and brings him extremely close to his face, looking into his eyes in a very serious demeanor. “I’m seein’ colors ‘n’ shit!”

Colors? Did Nut really answer my request?

“Er.... what’s ‘shit’?” The doctor asks. I open the door a little bit more, but I wince as the door hinges squeak. Kaileena was about to answer the doctor’s arbitrary question until her ears prick up slightly at the sound of the squeaking hinges. When she turns her head to face me, she gasps happily, her face lighting up like a fireworks show. She drops the doctor and charges my way, pouncing me in a ginormous glomp.

Now, some of you are thinking, “What the hell is a glomp?” For most of you who do know, kudos. For those that don’t: well, a glomp is basically an extremely ferocious hug. Think of it like being tackled by an incredibly muscular football player, then getting squeezed so tightly that you could only hope that the person doing all of this to you won’t violently molest you afterwards.

Kaileena performs such a devastating glomp on me that my ribs almost crack, like I was being hugged by a furry female Rubeus Hagrid or something like that. I lose my balance and fall, the Bast anchored to me as I hit the tile floor with a thud that knocks the wind out of me.

The end result? Me being in pain again. “OOF! Me everythin’....” I wheeze in reawakening agony.

“OH MY GODS, YOU’RE ALIVE!” She shrieks as she rubs her right cheek into the top of my head. That’s right: if she’s positioned to be taller than me, and she’s a woman, where do you think my head is?

Exactly.

“K-Kaileena! Yer crushing... me head... with yer boobs!” I say into her large chest, my speech slightly muffled by the fur and flesh.

“S-sorry!” She gets up off of me, relieving my face of her impressive cleavage. While I am a tad upset that that moment could not have lasted longer, I would rather choose oxygen than suffocation by a woman’s rack.

“Gee. I wonder what’s got ya all riled up to just pounce me like that....” I wink at her, her cheeks going red as a beet. How I can see it beneath her fur is a mystery, but damn it, it’s just so cute.

“Sh-shut up!” She snaps, invoking me to raise an eyebrow again. “I-it’s not like I like you or anything.” Bullshit! That is the most cliched thing that could ever be said in any anime ever, and it’s become even MORE cliched now that you said it!

“Whatever...” I say. “Let’s just go.”

“Out in the middle of the night?” The doctor counters. I blink a few times at my foolishness and shake my head.

“Well, where’re we ta go?” I inquisite. “It’s not like I’ve got any money ‘or anythin’.”

The doctor sighs exasperatedly as his horn glows. With his magic, he pulls out a small pouch from his coat pocket. He levitates the pouch into my right hand. “Here. There should be a small motel about a block away from here.” I open the pouch with difficulty due to my left hand being wooden. I peek inside the pouch and smile at the multiple gold coins that sit inside. “That should be enough for a night there.”

“Thank ya so much,” I thank, smiling widely. “I’ll find a way ta repay ya, for the money n’ the surgery... I promise.”

“You don’t have to: the Bits I make every month make the money I gave you look like chump change,” the doctor chuckles. He shakes my hand, then does the same for Kaileena’s. “Take care, you two.”

“Alright, doc.” I give the money to Kaileena, and she places it in my backpack... along with my iTouch and earphones?! How’d she get those? Moreover, how the hell did she find out how to use them?

I swallow harshly, the saliva going down my throat still feeling like a rock rubbing up on sandpaper. “Thank ya again,” I finally get out.

“No problem, Mr. O’Connor.” The doctor waves us a last goodbye as me and Kaileena make our way out of the hospital and onto the main road. It’s quite dark out: stars dotted the indigo sky that was rimmed with the mountains that surround the town of Ponyville. A few late-night equines that are out on the streets at this time of night fire glares at us. Some were amused curiosity, mainly fired towards Kaileena. The others were of dislike, and I was right in the crosshairs.

“Umm... I think I might be able to be accepted into this society, but... I’m not so sure about you, Damien,” Kaileena says. “N-no offense,” she quickly adds, for fear that she had hurt my feelings.

Instead, I pat her back and smile. “Actually, yer right. I need a good disguise.” And I’ve got just the right thing. “Hold this, please.” I take off my backpack and hand it to her. She puts it on without question. “Now, close yer eyes for a second.”

“Uhm... why?” While she does what I request, she seems a little unsure of what’s to come.

“You’ll see,” I tell her. I concentrate again, my face screwed up in determination. I grit my teeth and shut my eyes, trying to concentrate more and more on what I want.

*POOF!*

Kaileena jumps at the noise, yet she doesn’t open her eyes. “Alrighty, lass, you can open yer eyes now,” I say in my now high-pitched voice. I fly up to her eye-level and wait patiently for the moment of truth.

Kaileena opens her eyes once more, and gasps in glee at the sight of me. Her eyes light up as she pulls me into another fierce glomp. “OH MY GODS, YOU LOOK SOOOO CUTE!” she squeaks joyously.

“Seriously?!” I holler as I get suffocated once more by the Bast. “I demand that ya unhand me, wench!”

“Uh-uh!” She protests as she heads for the motel. I growl in slowly-growing anger. “I’m not letting you go, you adorable creature!”

It’s not that I don’t like the attention: actually, I love it, and her fur feels so incredibly silky-smooth and soft. However, in case you don’t remember, I’m being squeezed to death by a really cute humanoid kitty cat.

In situations like this one, I have to do what I do best...

Confuse the ever-loving fuck out of her.

“Yer mother is a hamster, and yer father smells o’ elderberries.”

“...What?” It’s more of a befuddled “what” rather than an angry “what”, but it does the trick just fine. Kaileena’s lovable death-grip on me slackens, and I slip out of her grasp.

“I can’t believe it worked!” I exclaim happily as I get some airtime and fly a little bit, my blob-form ascending into the sky. But just like that, Kaileena jumps up a few feet using her strong cat legs and snatches me by the tail.

How the hell did I forget about the tail?!

Just like that, the Bast lands, pulling me back down. “Oh, fuck, it didn’t work!”

“You’re gonna have to do better than that if you wanna get away, ‘Ian.” I shake my head (which I guess is my body?) at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, please,” I grumble as we reach the motel. “I hate that nickname.”

“Sorry, Damien,” she apologizes as she opens the door. Reluctantly, she lets go of me and lets me be free. We both make our way inside. The area seemed to be the typical motel waiting room: a few chairs on the left side of the room, followed by a receptionist’s desk on the right, along with a coffee table with magazines and comics that sits in the middle of the room. The exhausted pegasus receptionist behind the desk sees Kaileena and me before putting on a false smile.

“How may I help you, ma’am?” She asks.

“Room for two, please,” Kaileena says.

“Two? You want a bed for your pet as well?” ...WHAT DID THAT BITCH JUST SAY?!?!

“Yes, please.” The Bast shoots a smug smirk at me, and I grit my teeth in agitation.

“Ten Bits, then.” I use my tail to open the backpack and reach into its endless void for the pouch of Bits. Once I find it, I wrap my tail around it and pull it out before giving it to the receptionist.

“Aw... how cute.... seems this little guy is trained really well, huh?” She remarks as she pulls out the required Bits and I snatch the pouch back up with my tail. It takes all of my willpower to not transform back to a human and smack her across the face.

“Indeed so... Actually... can I have a one-bedroom, please?” Kaileena seems to sense the hatred emanating from me and she launches another glare at me, causing me to wither in fear at how ferocious she looks. The receptionist nods and hoofs over a key with the number 6 on it, along with the now obviated five Bits.

“Have a good evening,” she says with a genuine smile.

“Thanks,” she says. “Good night!” Once we go inside the hallway, the mare returns to looking gloomy and tired.

“Thank God almighty that that’s over...” I hiss vehemently under my breath. We reach the door with a golden 6 emblazoned on it. Kaileena looks at the key, then at the door knob. She puts the key inside the keyhole of the knob and turns it to the right. When it doesn’t yield, she turns to the left. The lock clicks open, and she opens the door.

The motel room looks... amazing. The carpet isn’t a shag carpet, which was completely perfect for my talons. The walls are painted a seafoam green, rather like Lyra Heartstrings’ fur coat. The navy-blue bed looks unusually soft, as well as the pillows on it. The bed is flanked by a drawer on each side, with seashell handles and black gloss.

I return to being a human Imp once more with another poof and a small smokescreen. I let out a low whistle as I sit on the beds. Just as I suspected, the mattress is remarkably comfortable, like pegasus feathers were stuffed into it. While I enjoy the overall comfort of the room, it feels rather stuffy. I feel myself simmering a bit, so II remove the belt of my tunic and my bandolier. They both land with a soft flump. The steel bracers on my arms go off as well. I unbutton the lone button on my tunic and remove it, along with my black long-sleeve underneath.

Kaileena looks at me from the other side of the bed she hopped on and wolf-whistles. “Now that’s hot....” she comments, a sultry look on her face as she examines my scarred and slightly tanned body.

My face grows warm from the remark. “Uhhh...” I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS ONE. To shrug it off, I delve into my backpack for food. Once we both dine on bread and meat, I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth with the complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste that the motel provided. I got a good look of the room before I left it. A typical bathtub with a toilet next to it, followed by a sink with a mirror that is next to the aforementioned toilet. A few towels are on the rack opposite the toilet.

I go back into the main room and plop myself on the bed, exhausted from using my transformation techniques. I could feel the tendrils of exhaustion and somnolence snake around me and pull me under, drowning me blissfully in the ocean of sleep, with the many shimmering fish of dreams swimming around me, creating a blindingly bright, yet beautiful, whirlwind of colors.

The hypnotizing mirage is enough to lull me into sleep, a small smile crafted upon my lips.

(NEXT MORNING)

I wake up to the weekday alarm on my iTouch, the Apple-produced machine blaring out the laid-back and lazy Japanese song I was constantly accustomed to.

I jump up slightly in shock, then turn it down rather than turning it off. I turn my head to see Kaileena still sleeping. I sigh in relief before getting up and starting my daily routine, which consists of brushing my teeth and showering.

I crank up the volume once the bathtub is quickly filled with warm water. With some difficulty due to my arm being wooden, I remove my clothes entirely. As soon as I discover my arm is detachable, I remove it and place it on the sink. I step into the tub and sink in. I sigh in relief as the water opens my pores and warms my skin. The lyrics start up, and I sing along: I’ve heard this song so many times, the lyrics come naturally to me.

“Yeah good morning

Sore wo okidosu mono shita

Mata atarashii seikatsu ni honey wo obosu

Mada usurguraku tomo ni gaito

Gare wa mai choushi engin some guy dry

Taikustu wa itsuka no facto

Itsuka mita keshiki kako furi kaeru

What actor and actress

I wouldn't miss yet for the award.”

As quickly as I came, I get out of the bathtub after I finish scrubbing with soap and water. Once I drain the water from the tub, I dry myself off thoroughly before I put on my clothes and reattach my prosthetic. I grimace slightly at how clunky and pathetic I feel whenever it’s on. What good would I be in a fight? I probably won’t be able to fight properly with Ellipsis ever again. My arm is gone... forever....

Snap out of it, Damien! Be lucky you’re alive!

Why?

Think about it. It could’ve been your actual body. Or worse... it could’ve been Kaileena.

Yeah... you’re right, Brain. If it had been Kaileena... I don’t know what I’d do.

I step out of the bathroom, with Kaileena now getting up, probably from how loud I was in there. “What in the name of all that is holy are you listening to?” she asks bluntly.

“Japanese music.”

“Uh... what?”

I sigh. I throw on my backpack after we finish eating meat and bread again for breakfast. Don’t get me wrong, I like it, especially since Akio’s culinary skills still annihilate the taste buds; but after a while, the paradigm would grow to be too dull and arbitrary. Something else entirely to switch it up would totally be worth it. Since I can’t leave via door, for fear of being spotted by the receptionist and getting in a lot of trouble, I open the window of the bedroom and hop out, while Kaileena takes the key and leaves out the door.

“Get up, get up, walking

Sleeping in keep on moving slowly

Good morning and good sunshine

Get up, get up, walking

Sleeping in keep on moving slowly

Good morning and good sunshine

Shinya kara asa sunda yagyou

Gazen wa chigou kotae sagusukoto

Doi shikyuu no eru chuuki wa

Mo hasen no mukou ni yaritai

Nai ima wa wakau nai mon wa nai datte

Mayotte sagashite

Kuruma ni gazou de arashite

Sore kara yaru go mata me wa samashite

Fudasu karade ni hello

Mattaku motto mo kyo kyoumino kasuka

Kusakarifuun sasunara hearts

Mecha kizukino jasmine oyasumi

Get up, get up, walking....

Sleeping in, keep on moving...”

Once the song ends, I turn off my iTouch and pocket it. Despite the many glares that are fired at me by the local ponies, the amount of fucks I could give to them are completely and utterly nonexistent. I walk with a swagger in my step and a grin on my face.

But that all goes to shit when I see the wanted posters in the middle of the town’s bulletin board.

WANTED CRIMINALS

“Devil Imp” (Ugly Bat Freak): Damien O’Connor. Crime: Wielding a weapon against the rules of Stalliongrad; Not paying the Stalliongrad toll; Jailbreak from Stone Tower Prison; Assaulting several guards. Worth: 8000 Bits

“Bast”: Kaileena. Wielding a weapon against the rules of Stalliongrad; Not paying the Stalliongrad toll; Jailbreak from Stone Tower Prison. Worth: 6000 Bits

Other “Basts”: Ren-Thel and Khajiit “Mango Jack”. Wielding a weapon against the rules of Stalliongrad; Not paying the Stalliongrad toll; Jailbreak from Stone Tower Prison; Assaulting several guards. Worth: 8000 Bits each.

Unicorn Mare: Faultless. Crime: Thievery; Jailbreak from Stone Tower Prison. Worth: 4000 Bits

Each description has a hand-drawn (hoof-drawn? Mouth-drawn? Magic-drawn? GAH! DAMN YOU, EQUESTRIAN GRAMMAR) mugshot of each of us. Khajiit and Kaileena both look surprised, Ren has a serious scowl upon his face, Faultless looks confused, like she doesn’t belong in jail.

And me?

“...What the hell?” I say quietly as I examine the artistic detail, still not retorting to the looks from the other ponies. "They can never seem ta get me nose right." In the picture, I was smiling cheekily at the proverbial camera, but my nose was drawn to be far too bulbous and droopy, much like Squidward Tentacle's nose.

However, it’s best to dispose of it before trouble starts brewing. Without warning, I take the pictures off the bulletin board and start crumpling it up into one large ball of paper. With as much accuracy as I could muster, I toss it in the nearest trash bin. The faux-basketball bounces off of the rim of the bin and lands pathetically on the floor. I turn my head when I hear the sound of snickering. Rather than expecting ponies, I see something else.

Standing before me was the weirdest trio I’ve seen. One is a Samurai Nobody, from the Kingdom Hearts series, donning grey clothing. He (I choose to say he because calling him an it is an insult) appears to be the same as the others: two zippers on his shirt, cylindrical head with 6 eyes, billowing sleeves with the crest of the Nobodies on each sleeve, MC Hammer-styled pants that are wide at the thighs and narrow at the knees and ankles, which are donned in narrow and pointy black boots, black claws, and two crossed katanas behind his back. He looks at me questioningly, and I him.

The other is a Dancer Nobody, who appears to be rather feminine. An orange hat seems to be shrouding her eyes (if any), and the hat is trailing a long piece of narrow cloth that ends in a pointed arrow. There are metal bracelets on her wrists, which lead down to fingerless, sickle-shaped hands. A large black cross is on her chest, starting from the neck and ending at her hips, which are clad in pink and yellow pants that also bears the Nobody crest, the bottom of her pants sleeves having rather curly, yet narrow and boxy, feet. She has her hand in front of her mouth, stifling the snickers she was creating.

The third is a Diamond Dog, with a pure white coat and black stripes on the arms and feet. I can’t tell if it’s a male or a female... eh. Not important at the moment. It has a basic dark gray vest on its back. It looks at me fearfully, possibly frightened by my appearance as she hides behind the Samurai.

“.... What in the-” The Samurai just says quietly, but is cut off as the Dancer fell over on the ground, laughing.

“T-that wa-was so f-f-fail!” She says between snickers, before laughing hysterically, holding her stomach as she rolls on the ground.

“Elie, it is very rude to laugh at one’s misfortune. Stop it. Now,” The Samurai says strictly. Misfortune?! Dude, my arm is wooden! If anything, I’ve had nothing but misfortunes coming for me ever since I broke out of Stone Tower!

“Pfft! Hell no. You’re not the boss of me,” The Dancer, apparently named Elie, retorts before continuing to laugh like a maniac.

The Samurai just sighs and shakes his head, clearly not approving what the other Nobody was doing. He turns his gaze to my direction.

The Samurai puts his hand in front of the spot where his mouth would be and clears his throat. “I apologize for my inconsiderate and ignorant acquaintance,” he says politely.

“Hey!” The mentioned Dancer stops laughing and yells loudly, sounding insulted.

“I would also appreciate it greatly if you could forgive her actions,” the Samurai continues, ignoring the disapproving Dancer, who jumps up from the ground and huffs in a defiant manner.

“Don’t mention it, sir,” I say, finally putting the crumpled posters back into the bin. “No harm done, after all.”

Hang on a second... this guy seems rather familiar... Damn it, I’ve seen him from somewhere, and not from a sensational video game....

Crap... it was on the tip of my tongue, too.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to come to me. Eh. I figure I’ll remember where I saw him when it actually comes to me.

I extend my right hand to him and say, “Name’s Damien O’Connor.” He gives it a shake, yet when he goes to introduce himself, he is interrupted at the sound of-

“Hi, Damien!” A very familiar voice shouts. I turn my head to see Kaileena jogging our way, the backpack on her back jangling slightly with each pace. She stops next to me and smiles widely, handing me my backpack. I don it and wrap an arm around her, patting her tricep muscle.

“Well, who is this?” The Samurai asks.

“A kitty!” The Dancer exclaims giddily and is suddenly hugging the daylight out of the Bast.

“Help... me!” Kaileena wheezes. It takes a few tries for the Samurai to separate the two. I chuckle a bit at the scene.

“That is quite enough fooling around for one day. Try to control yourself,” the Samurai scolds the Dancer.

“But she’s so cute~! I wanna hug her till my arms fall off,” The Dancer says dreamily. “Can I have one?”

“No!” The Samurai retorts bluntly. He then shakes his head again, muttering something under his breath before talking clearly again. “Apologies for that. It seems I did not get to introduce myself correctly. My name is Hollow, and yes, that is my birth name. And this one over here,” he points at the Dancer, “is Elie. A real troublemaker, if you ask me.”

“Am not!

“Lies,” I say.

“I would have to agree with you, Mr. Damien,” Hollow says with an air of eerie calmness surrounding him.

“Please, call me Damien. Formalities aren’t really me thing,” I say.

“I see.... Waaaait,” Hollow suddenly tenses up a bit. “Why do you sound Irish? Or is it Welsh? I don’t know.”

“Irish,” I deadpan, “and that is because I was born in Ireland. This here’s Kaileena, a Bast from th’ Urukai tribe in th’ Great Southern Rainforest.”

“Nice to meet you!” The individual in question says cheerily, stretching her paw out. Hollow shakes it, followed by Elie, who seems to be resisting the urge to tackle Kaileena in a vicious glomp.

“A pleasure,” says the Samurai, then he pauses for a bit. “Wait, you are...” His words point towards me. “No can’t be.... Then again..... You certainly look the part. Well, some of you. A picture perfect human, except for the wings and the legs.”

“Comes with th’ job o’ bein’ a Devil Imp,” I tell Hollow. Now I remember where I saw Hollow: that dream where Nut showed me what happened to Earth in my absence. Another human has crossed my paths; maybe he could also be a brony...?

I crane my head and see the Diamond Dog still behind him. “And who’s the Dog travelin’ with ya?” I ask curiously, yet with a friendly smile.

Kaileena sees the Dog in question and goes wide-eyed in both fear and surprise, before following the Dog’s example and cowering behind me, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “D-d-d-d-dog!”

NO, REALLY? FOR A SECOND THERE, I THOUGHT IT WAS THE MOTHERFUCKING CHUPACABRA.

Hollow facepalms. “Again! Why does this happen? She is right there. Has been this entire time. She is not invisible!”

“Well, she doesn’t really stick out or make herself known,” I reason.

“Well, I see how that makes sense.... Except not. If you haven’t noticed, she is white as a snowflake. How does that not stand out? “Hollow says before taking a few deep breaths before continuing. “Sorry. This here is Eve. She was part of a Diamond Dog pack that I stumbled upon trying to capture a family of ponies. The rest of her pack is dead now, technically by my hand, so I took her with me.”

The Diamond Dog named Eve seems to grow slightly more nervous and took hold of Hollow’s arm tightly. I offer my hand to Eve, trying to coax her out of her fit of anxiety. “It’s alright, lass... ‘m not gonna hurt ya... I just wanna say hi.”

I wait a tad before Eve can react. She slowly reaches her own hand towards mine, but pulls it back at the last second. “Welp, so much fer that.” I sigh in exasperation.

“It’s alright. Eve is a little shy around foreign surroundings, most of all ponies. Comes with the natural prejudice towards them, I guess.” Hollow explains. I nod in understanding.

“That explains it,” Kaileena pipes up. “So what do you all feel like doing? It’s kinda boring around here.”

“We, well, I came here to learn more of Equestria’s history and other useful information. The library seemed like a good place to start,” Hollow says, but suddenly turns pretty glum, as did Eve. “I am beginning to regret that choice. You see I.....”

Hollow stopped as something seemed to catch his eye. He was quiet for a few second, before, “No way in the seven circles of hell.” He walks past me and Kaileena, Eve being dragged along, still clinging to his arm. He stops at the bulletin board and groans exasperatedly in despair. “I can’t believe it!” He yells, then rips off a poster and hands it to me. “Read it. I can’t and I must know.”

I take the poster from him, wondering why on Ear- er... Equestria... he is being rather melodramatic about this. The mugshot on the poster depicts a hooded man with glowing red eyes, which are the only thing shown on his face since his hood covered his face in shadows. Apparently, he’s also firing up a peace sign at the faux-camera. I clear my throat and read the poster:

WANTED

“The Dark Coat” : Real name unknown. Crimes: Not paying the Trottingham toll, assaulting guards for no apparent reason, causing vast amounts of property damage, resisting arrest, escaping from Trottingham prison, destroying property of the Trottingham guard and lollygaggin’. Worth: 16000 Bits.

“Well... shit,” I say. This “Dark Coat” guy is not only an expensive suspect, but he appears to have Pinkie Pie powers, allowing him to break the fourth wall.

If he meets Pinkie Pie herself? Well, let’s just say that we’re all gonna fucking die.

“I should have guessed,” Hollow sighs and shakes his head in defeat. “What the heck are you doing, Shade?”

“Shade? You know this loon?” I ask.

“Worse,” He just responds. “He’s my older brother.”

Ouch... right in my feels, man.

“Aw well... at least ya have a brother.”

“Ohnonononono. Don’t even go there. I would do anything to be rid of him,” He babbles quickly.

“Really?” I say coldly, my face slowly contorting in irritation. Hollow’s remark has made me see him in a different light. “Ya want ta be rid o’ ya own flesh ‘n’ blood? The guy who, despite his constant fuck-ups, ya can’t really hate in th’ end?”

He just stares at me for a minute. “Easy for you to say. Let me tell you something, Damien. That man, my brother, was locked up in a mental asylum for twelve years after he ripped off a boy’s throat with his teeth. He is insane! Utterly dejected from this reality.”

“That may be the case... but I’d rather have an insane brother than no brother at all... especially with how shitty life was back home. Dead dad, whoring and drug-obsessed mother, people who will hate you at every turn for being yourself: I relied on me brother. He was like a godsend ta me... until those FUCKIN’ BASTARDS MADE HIM KILL HIMSELF!” Without hesitation, I launch my left hand into the bulletin board, the wooden arm splintering and shattering the weaker wood of the board like it was a pathetic shield. Many of the ponies catch notice and begin panicking slightly at the scene. Kaileena looks at me sorrowfully, Eve is clutching Hollow’s arm with a vice-like grip, and Elie recoils.

I bite my tongue and tightly shut my eyes, fighting back fresh tears that threaten to become evident.

Hollow just stares at the whole thing as it went by. He then hangs his head a bit after a while. “I am sorry for your loss. While it is true that my brother and I don’t get along, he has helped me on a few occasions before.... well, that incident.” He says before he looks at the white Diamond Dog. “Eve, circulation getting cut from the arm again.”

Eve immediately releases her apparently strong grasp from his arm. “Sorry,” she says softly. Hollow gestures her to stay put as he himself comes closer to me.

“There was a time when I too was an outcast. I got picked on nearly daily. The only thing that let me get home without getting all bruised up was Shade.” He chuckles a bit. “My brother always had a natural talent for fighting. He could take on anyone and not get even a speck of dust on himself. He could even beat both me and my father in his sleep, and I am not making that up. He was amazing. A little crazy, but amazing.”

Hollow pauses for a minute before speaking again. “My father was what you could call a grouch with a heart of stone. He was really strict and made it his goal to beat the way of the sword into me. Not that I objected later on. My mother....” He pauses again, this time sighing somewhat melancholically. “I never knew my mother. I heard she died when I was young. Shade and father never told me much about her. The thing that my father once told me was that my mother was an angel, a true saint. I believed him. No one else could tolerate a husband like that,” He chuckles again.

His words churn and roll in my head, being stewed by my brain until it’s become perfect with realization. I’m not the only one who got on the shit-list.

“...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t a’ lashed out like that,” I apologize, finally pulling out my prosthetic hand from the bulletin board and cleaning off any stray splinters onto my tunic.

“Don’t be. You had a reason to be mad. I won’t judge you for that,” Hollow says calmly. A few silent moments pass, and it is Hollow who finally breaks the incredibly fragile silence. “Still, I am surprised that Shade’s bounty is that small and does not involve killing anyone or anything, considering he most likely did all that for a bottle of alcohol.”

“What the-?!” I’m utterly appalled. “That man loves alcohol more than I do if he did all that.”

“It’s more like a craving than anything else, really. He hasn’t tasted a drop of alcohol in twelve years. The last I saw him, he basically asked the way to the closest bar after saving our hides and kicking my dark duplicate’s ass. That was yesterday, by the way,” he says matter-of-factly.

I let out a low whistle at the mention of Shade’s previous behavior towards Hollow and his company. Right now, Shade is like the Wu-Tang Clan: ain’t nuthing ta fuck with. “Blimey.”

“Er... hate to break up the talking men,” Elie intervenes. “But... I’M SO BORED!” She throws her hands up in the air.

GEE, IT SURE IS BORING AROUND HERE.

Shut up, Brain.

Okay....

“Seconded,” Kaileena agrees.

“Well, there isn’t much we can do about that, now is-”

In the middle of Hollow’s statement, he gets cut off by a figure that darts past them, apparently floating in the air. It taps the Bast on the shoulder and continues on. Soon enough, sound of instruments being tuned fills the air.

“Was that....” Elie starts.

“Most likely, yes,” Hollow answers the unfinished question. “We’d better take a look and see if this one is another Xolhowl. I hope not.” He, Elie and Eve dart off towards the origin of the sounds. I raise an eyebrow: Xolhowl? What in Equestria could he be talking about?

Regardless of the unknown answer that won’t come to me, I shake my head and follow Hollow (hehe... that rhymed), who seems to not let up on following that floating being. I get a closer look at the creature we’re following. He is wearing rather elegant parade clothing: A red parade cloak with gold trim, poofy white pants, black boots, white gloves for his four-fingered hands, a strangely-shaped crown, red slanted eyes, and a lightning-bolt shaped conductor’s baton in his right hand. It takes about a few seconds before my brain can register that the being is an Unversed, a Symphony Master to be precise.

How do I know all this? Well, when you’re a total dork like I am, one tends to know these things quite well. Plus, Sony and Nintendo have been very good friends to me....

“Ouch!” I exclaim, when a large drum that is apparently floating and following the Symphony Master knocks into the back of my head, followed by a trumpet to the wing and a violin and its bow to the back. The force of all three musical instruments hitting me sends me to the floor again, causing me to bite the dust. “Fortune, I hate ya so much right now.” Hollow gives a short chuckle before helping me up to my claws.

“Keep one eye on the foe and the other on your surroundings, for it is the harshest opponent of them all,” he says, sounding like some kind of a wise old man before turning to the Unversed. He looks at him for a good while. “Damn, this text just keep on popping up, doesn’t it?” He remarked.

“Text? What're ya’ talkin’ ‘bout?” I can’t help but ask.

“Yeeeeah, I can kinda see that Symphony Master’s status screen,” He slowly says. While that sounds kinda cool, I give him a questioning look. “Trust me, it’s less insane than what it sounds. Still, this one does not seem hostile. It hasn’t attacked anyone yet, at least.” A pause. “Except you, accidentally I suppose.”

“Better on accident than deliberately,” I say as I dust myself off with my good hand and simultaneously follow the Symphony Master.

The Unversed in question stops suddenly at a large stage. The stage in question seems to be crafted from strong oak, with a red silk curtain in the background. Above the curtain, on a wooden board, showed the symbol of five ponies trotting across the board. Maybe they stylized it ever since the CMC performed? Or maybe someone else performed here...?

Either way, I finally begin to see where the Symphony Master is going with this. The Unversed places the drum and its sticks, the trumpet, and the violin and its bow on the floor of the stage. The Symphony Master waves his baton once, and more instruments appear on the stage. Lyres, bells, guitars, flutes, and multiple other instrumets neatly litter (What a paradoxical pair of words) the stage. I think I spot a DJs turntable as well. Strange...

Regardless as to how an instrument of electronic music got involved, the Symphony Master waves his conductor’s baton around, and, I shit you not, words start to form wherever the tip of the baton strays. Like a spider and its web, the words flow like gossamer and shine like rubies, looping and twirling until the collected words form the interrogative sentence:

‘Would you like to play?’

Hollow rubbed the spot where his chin would be. “Damien, can you play any music?”

A note before we begin: over the past twenty-two years of living, I’ve had more than enough musical experience to play any instrument. Guitar, violin, lyre, harp, ocarina, flute; you name it, I play it. Hell, the only instrument I can’t play is the didgeridoo, and that Australian lung-fucker requires the player to breathe out through the mouth and breathe in through the nose AT THE SAME TIME, a feat that only 10% of the world’s population can actually do.

“Sure I can,” I answer. Me and Hollow both hop up on stage and pick up our requested instruments. Hollow picks up the violin and bow, which look unusually eloquent. The instrument is made of cherry wood that was polished so well that it practically glistens like a gem. I let out a low whistle before I pick up a lyre. It resembles nothing like Lyra’s lyre, for this one has thirty-nine strings. The instrument is about the size of my backpack, and was wrought from stainless steel, yet painted to resemble gold. I can tell it was painted because of the occasional minuscule dots of paint on the lyre’s shiny surface. Thirty-nine strong nylon strings line up vertically along the lyre, completing the small Greek instrument.

A painful noise breaks me out of my marvelling of the lyre, causing me to clamp my hand over one of my ears in a bad attempt to block out the sound. That note was rather... atrocious, like Kotomi Ichinose just played that note. And if you watched Clannad, you would know what I meant when I say that.

“Sorry, a bit rusty,” Hollow apologizes.

“A bit rusty!?” Elie wails at the Samurai. “That was terrible! If I had ears, they’d be bleeding!”

“Shut up, Elie,” I say, my blunt words silencing the Dancer. “Give ‘im time, he’ll remember soon enough.”

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since I played a violin,” Hollow says, his voice coated with nostalgia. “I used to take lessons. Well, five lessons until they threw me out.”

“For what?” I inquired.

“When I became better than my instructors,” he responds without hesitation. “They didn’t take it very well.”

“Pfft. They can suck it,” I say.

“So, any songs in mind?” He asks.

“I do, but you play first,” I respond. “Besides, I don’t really know any violin songs off th’ top o’ me head, and I don’t think I’m quite ready yet.”

“Alright,” He seems deep in thought for a good while until he snaps his fingers at his instrumental epiphany. “I think I’ve got a perfect one.” He gestures the Symphony Master to come closer and seemingly whispers something to him. The Symphony Master claps his hands together. With a few waves of his baton, the Symphony Master nods. I see that several ponies have gathered around to see the spectacle. Most of them, at immediate recognition, appear to be the wielders of the Elements of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie. Spike, as well, seems to have come along with them, the infantile dragon riding on the back of the purple unicorn. I also spot an Unversed that looks like a scholar, or something like that, next to Twilight. A Mimic Master, I think it was called. Why it is there, I haven’t got the foggiest.

“Let me get my thoughts collected and organized,” Hollow says and concentrates. After about ten seconds later, he nods. “Ready. Let’s do this.”

The Symphony Master (who I - and I think Hollow as well - will call Orchestra to save time) waves his baton again, and the sound of a film reeling starts to ring out of, seemingly, nowhere.

Seven seconds of reeling film go by, and Hollow places the violin on his shoulder and under his proverbial chin before playing.

Rather than any hideous notes that blare from the violin, Hollow erects notes that are uncommonly incredible. The melody is slow and, by all accounts, simply beautiful. So simple and filled with emotion. Then with a wave of his baton, Orchestra summons background music that includes catchy guitar riffs and drum beats that he commands like a chapel master. Hollow also picks up the pace, while still managing to keep up with the change. The way he moves that bow and his fingers is like harmony in a nutshell.

After a while, the drums and guitar quiet down and give the Samurai a solo, accompanied by an electric keyboard. He seems very concentrated and I can safely bet he is in the Zone right now. Nothing beats being in the Zone, not even bacon. That melody sounds like angels are playing it instead of a mere Nobody. It is just that serene. I actually feel myself let go of the real world and get swept away by the sound. Funny... the tune seems to carry a tinge of sadness in it, and I haven’t the foggiest why.

The drum and guitar comes back briefly to accompany Hollow’s violin and then fade away, leaving Hollow to do another solo, only to jump back soon enough with a vengeance! As the song picks up the pace once more, Hollow starts swaying as he plays, as if dancing. As his pace gets faster his movement intensifies. He is going with the flow, like a stray leaf in a raging current.

Then as the song comes to its close, the Samurai twirls around as he plays the final notes, ending his entrancing performance.

There is a silence hanging in the air, thick as mud. It appears that everypony in the crowd is too awestruck to do a thing. Heck, even I was left speechless. I honestly didn’t expect Hollow to be THAT good.

Before I know it, my ears are bombarded by the ferocious sound of applause. Ponies stomp on the floor as a substitute of clapping, cheering, whooping, hollering, and whistling their unanimous concurrence. Eve and Elie share the most intense applause, their faces almost going red from how loud and hard they are cheering.

Hollow gives a deep bow to the audience and walks next to me. I can clearly hear him sigh deeply. “Never play to a live audience, huh? Well, up yours, Mr. Brannigan,” I hear him mutter.

“So, how was that?” He asks nonchalantly.

“That... was beautiful, lad,” I say, still shocked and awed by the performance.

“Thank you kindly, Damien.” Hollow gets off stage and stands in between Elie and Eve, turning around and facing me. “Now, it’s your turn.”

I gulp nervously. I was too hypnotized by the song that I had not even tried to think of a good song. “C’mon, Damien!” Kaileena cheers. “YOU CAN DO IT!” To add emphasis to the encouragement, she starts stomping her paw into the ground, chanting my name over and over. “Dam-ien! Dam-ien! Dam-ien!”

The chanting spreads. Elie starts chanting with Kaileena. More and more of the ponies are following the example, chanting my name so loudly, my ears ring. “DAM-IEN! DAM-IEN! DAM-IEN! DAM-IEN!” The only ones not doing it are Eve and Hollow.

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” I holler, trying to make myself heard. The audience’s cries for another music performance dies down. I clear my throat, flex the fingers on my right hand, and hold the lyre in its proper position. I take a deep breath and begin playing the lyre.

Since the fingers on my left hand are wooden, and wood obviously has neither muscles nor veins, they don’t move a mere inch, so I have to move my arm altogether instead. Despite that unfortunate drawback, I still play to the best of my abilities, the sounds of the strings getting plucked and pulled almost becoming exactly as I wanted them to be.

The melody is soothing, and like before, I intentionally lose my grip on the reality I’m stuck in, let my body perform the actions, and let my mind sink into the creek of reminiscence.

I smile softly as I take a trip down Memory Lane....

Twelve Years Ago

(|“C’mon, Damien!|) Daniel coaxed in Gaelic. (|“Let’s go play outside!”|)

(|OK, hang on!|) I replied in our native tongue as I got on my sandals. Daniel grabbed my arm and pulled me outside, a soccer ball in his other hand. (|We’ll see you later, Momma!|)

(|Don’t be out too long!|) She shouted back.

The grass and dirt beneath my sandals flattened with a soft rustling and crunching sound as we ran out of our new small home in Boulder, Colorado, and into the softer grass of the park. (|Heads up!”|) Daniel shouted, before chucking the ball high into the air. It came back down and bounced off the earth with a soft thump, getting less air time once it was airborne again. I crouched low and rose up once the ball was under me, the black and white sphere going high into the air from my head striking it. It soars over to Daniel, who followed my example. The game just consisted of us dribbling the ball off of our heads toward one another.

Finally, Daniel caught it, ending the small back-and-forth game between us. (|Damien, look!|) I turned my head toward the direction Daniel was pointing, and I saw three other boys coming our way. (|Maybe we can ask them to play with us?|)

(|But... you don’t speak English, and my English is only so-so,|) I explained.

(|I don’t think they’ll mind.|)

“Hey,” one of the boys, a small Hispanic boy with a red shirt and khaki shorts, began. “You new here?”

“Yes,” I told them, trying to muster up as much knowledge of the English language as I can. “Him and I are new here.”

“You talk weird,” another boy, this one being American, with black shorts and a blue shirt with a hawk on it, declared. “Where ya from?”

“Ireland,” I answered.

“Ireland?” The final boy, an African-American with a green muscle shirt and gray shorts, asked questioningly. “Pfft, there ain’t no such thing.”

“Yes, there is!” I complained defensively. “Ireland’s real!”

“Oh, really?” the blue-shirted American boy questioned sarcastically. “Well, then, where is it?”

“‘S in Europe!”

“See?” The Hispanic kid began. “He’s lying. I ain’t heard of no Europe before.”

“No, I’m not!” I retorted.

(|Damien, what are they saying that’s making you mad?|) Daniel asked. The boys just simply laughed at the Gaelic my little brother spoke in.

“Look, they even have a funny language!” The African-American child chimed cruelly, and the three boys laughed again, pointing at my brother, who, up until now, did not know that they were laughing at us. Open-mouthed, the five-year-old toddler became saddened and his lower lip quivered, a sign that he was almost about to weep.

“Aww, is the little girl gonna cry?” the American boy fired menacingly. Daniel lost control, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. I balled up my fists and clenched my teeth, almost ready to belt this boy in the face for what he did.

I would've, too... but that wouldn’t have been what father wanted.

‘Walk away... just walk away.’

(|C’mon, Daniel,|) I said to my sibling. (|Let’s go home; these guys are jerks.|)

(|Okay,|) Daniel complied mournfully. He grabbed our soccer ball and we both left the park, my arm around my brother’s shoulder.

“Smell ya later, weirdos!” The trio of bullies hollered before cackling like evil witches that were unreluctantly trapped inside males’ bodies.

(|Just ignore them,|) I told my brother, who was looking at the ground as he sniffled. He wiped his eyes of the tears. (|They’re just trying to get you mad for their own benefit.|)

(|...Damien?|)

(|Yeah?|)

(|Why did those boys make fun of us?|)

I sighed, trying to make an answer out that inquiry. How could I answer such a sad question? I was only ten; I had little to no knowledge of ever being teased up until now.

(|It’s because we’re different, Danny...|) I finally say.

It’s all because we were different...

...

‘Thanks, Papa...’ I think as I look to the heavens. ‘You’ve been a big help... despite you not being with us.’

Present

I end the song, the final high note ringing out across the environment. I feel something warm and wet on my left cheek, and I wipe it away with my hand. I know what it is, but I didn’t want others to see.

“That was...” Hollow began. “That was fantastic!” And he begins clapping.

That first clap was the spark to start the raging fire of approval from the other ponies.

Like with the Samurai, a massive tsunami of applause crashes into me, drowning me in their approval. Kaileena, is her excitement, leaps onto the stage and tackles me in another large hug. I bowl over onto the floor of the stage, the Bast clinging to me like lint to denim. “That was awesome!” She screams over the din of applause.

“Heh, yeah. Didn’t know I could still play.” I lift my left hand to emphasize the statement.

“Right. About that... I think I have an idea on how to get you a newer, better arm,” she informs as we both get up from off the floor.

“How?” Kaileena points towards the mountains, where a large regal city sits atop the mountainside. It was- “Canterlot?”

“That’s its name?” I nod at her question. “Then Canterlot is where we’ll go. The ponies say that two really powerful princesses live there: maybe they can help you with your arm.”

“Maybe...” I turn the matter over in my head. Going to Canterlot could possibly mean going to see Princess Luna (which was a total plus) and getting a new arm (which was an even bigger plus), but the risk would be that we would be captured because we are wanted by Equestrian forces (which is a total con).

I still continue churning the matter in my head, and finally, I come to a conclusion.

“Sure. Off to Canterlot we go.” Orchestra the Symphony Master leaps in front of me and waves his baton, the shining words appearing again.

‘Excellent performance!’ he writes. ‘As a reward for your outstanding musical skills, you and Mr. Hollow are allowed any instrument of your choice.’

“Well, that’s no contest,” Hollow states. “I shall choose the violin.” The instrument Orchestra hands to him is very different from the one Hollow played on stage. This one is silvery grey and is shaped like the Nobody symbol, as is the bow. Its strings were almost invisible. I couldn’t help but whistle at the unique design. It was very fitting.

“And I, the lyre,” I conclude. The Samurai takes the violin, opens up one of the zippers on his chest, and throws the violin into the open gap. Hollow’s name is apparently not a misnomer, because the violin just vanishes inside him, like he has some sort of blessed hammerspace upon his person.

Kaileena opens the backpack for me, and I place the lyre inside, the folds of the hammerspace-bearing pack absorbing the thirty-nine-string instrument like a sponge would absorb water. Kaileena closes the pack and I look back at Hollow, Elie, and Eve. I remember that Hollow is, indeed, a human, especially if he knows of their existence.

Brain? Run BronyScan.EXE again, please.

Very well, Master. I daresay, that wooden arm makes you look rather sexy, no?

It’d be sexier if there was a hidden blade in it, like with Khajiit’s arm.

But Khajiit is not sexy like you, master.

...Just run the motherfucking brony scan already.

Certainly, Master.

“Hey, Hollow?” I call.

“Yes, Damien?”

“Do you like MMMMMM-bananas?” I then say, my face contorted to resemble a troll face.

“Ummm..... Ooooookay. Not particularly, no,” he says sounding rather confused.

Well, then. That just confirms that Hollow is not a brony.... Ah, whatever, I’m gonna do it anyways. “Interesting. Because I know one place where you won’t find any bananas.”

“Oh, Celestia, please don’t say it,” Applejack groans. “I’m tired o’ y’all humans an’ yer bananas.”

“What?” Hollow asks even more confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Basically, he’s gonna talk about launchin’ ya ‘onnnnnnn tha mooooooon’ or somethin’ like that,” the farm pony answers. “And it’s all because of them humans an’ their ‘Internet’ thingamajigger.”

DAMNIT, APPLEJACK, YOU FOILED MY PLANS.

Hollow looked at me and I could just feel him staring at me like I was insane. “That is going a tiny bit too far into the Shade territory. Don’t go into the Shade territory,” he says, very, very seriously. Disturbingly so.

“Wouldn’t even plan on it, lad,” I say, getting slightly nervous from how solemn Hollow’s tone was. I look at the sky, and the sun is about ¾ across the sky, showing that it’s about three o’clock. I look from the sky towards the castle, then back at my arm. If I want to make it to Canterlot, then I guess I had leave soon before they close the train station.

“Get going.” Hollow suddenly pipes up, as if reading my thoughts. “I can see you are anxious to get moving.” If he could smile, I think he would be smiling. I flash a grin myself, jumping off the stage with Kaileena, who had taken the leisure onto jumping on my back. I grunt as her light, albeit evident, weight becomes a burden upon me.

“Why did ya jump on me back?” I ask.

“I’m in the mood for flying, alright?” She answers.

“Just one more thing before you depart on your own little adventure. A warning,” Hollow says quickly. I don’t like the way he said ‘warning’. “If you encounter a being that looks almost like me, except black and carries four swords, I have one advice for you. Run. Xolhowl shows no mercy towards anything.” He sounds very serious.

“Don’t worry about me,” I say. I stick my right hand out, and with a few mere milliseconds of concentration, I summon Ellipsis back from the Abyss. The scythe barely weighs down my hand, but I can still use it if I’m very careful with it. I then banish it back to whence it came. “I believe I can handle meself.”

“I’ll take your word for it then.” I think he is done now. “Oh, one more thing.” Damnit! “You see, when I came here my soul was broken into small pieces, which were scattered all over. The pieces that I call Soul Fragments can grow their own bodies. From what I’ve seen they are Nobodies, Unversed, maybe even Heartless or Dream Eaters. Anyway, be careful if you ever stumble upon them as some can be evil or hostile by nature. If they don’t bother you, don’t bother them. You should be fine.”

“And I’ll take your word for it, then, Hollow.” I stick out my hand again, and he gives it a shake.

“You’re leaving?!” Rarity says. “You can’t go out in public dress like that!” She waves her hoof over my and Kaileena’s clothes. “I simply won’t allow it.”

My face contorts to appear agitated. DAMNIT, WOMAN. I WANT MAH ARM, AND I WANT IT NOW.

“Ugh... fine...” me and the Bast both groan.

“Perfect!” She cries, grabbing me and Kaileena with her magic and pulling us out of the crowd towards her Carousel Boutique. I waved goodbye to Hollow, Elie, and Eve. Within a minute, we reach the pale unicorn’s house/shop. She opens the door and puts us down, rather unceremoniously, if you ask me.

Oh? You didn’t ask me? Well, screw you. No one really cares what you think.

...Wait, come back, that was a joke, I’M SORRY!

...

Oh, good, you’re back again.

Now then, where was I? Ah. Right.

I get up off of the ground and dust myself off, with Kaileena following my example. “Couldn’t you just change the color scheme?” I ask Rarity.

“Oh, for your tunic and underclothes?” I nod at her. “Well, it would certainly suit you better than just plain old black and white.” Her horn glowed, and with a bright flash of light, I saw that my tunic and undergarments had changed in color completely. The tunic and its hood become a cerulean hue, much like Rainbow Dash’s fur coat. The underclothes, rather than being black, are now a solid silver color. Around my hips, beneath my tunic, is a loincloth that ends in a point, and it is also styled in a blue and silver fashion. I grin a bit at the overall design, and I lean forward to whisper in Rarity’s ear. She gives a small start, but once she realizes my real intentions, she holds still and lets me do what I need. Her eyes raise when I finish whispering.

“No,” she deadpans.

“Oh, please?” I say sadly, trying to use her method of persuasion against her. “Please please please please please please!?” I jut my lower lip out.

“Oh, curses!” She hollers in a slightly unladylike manner. “Fine. You win.” I smile cheekily at how easy that had been. Her horn glows again, and when the flash of light subsides, I see this upon the loincloth:

Yep. The Sheikah eye, as red as blood. Just like I wanted it.

“Oh!” Rarity then gasps. “I almost forgot something that would make it much better!” She goes inside the Boutique and comes back a minute later, a pair of small blue earrings in her magical grasp. “Hold still, please?”

...Wait, what.

*PCH!*

“GAH!”

*PCH!*

“OW!”

“Sorry!” Rarity apologizes as the needles of the earrings pierce the middle of each earlobe and connect with the other ends on the other sides. The pain surges through my ears, but I manage to ignore it. “There! Now you look rather dashing, darling!” She then looks at Kaileena, who seems a bit reluctant in getting a new wardrobe. “And I have just the thing for you!” She exclaims. She goes back inside and comes out again with a bundle of clothes. Now, I was about to say something along the lines of “How can a pony’s clothes fit a non-pony?” But the question gets answered when Rarity unfolds the clothes and, lo and fuckin’ behold, they are crafted to fit a human. Well... as human as Kaileena is. The clothes mainly consist of a tunic similar to mine, yet without the hood, two gold shawls, and a skirt. The color scheme is purple and gold rather than my blue and silver.

“H...How did you-”

“Get it like this?” Rarity interrupts Kaileena. “Originally, it was for a pony out in Trottingham, who would come to collect it in three days, but she has informed me just recently that it was no longer necessary. So, with a bit of exertion, I simply used my magic to change the clothes’ shape. Do you like it?”

Kaileena takes the clothes from her, and stares at them open-mouthed. “I... I LOVE IT!” At once, the Bast throws the clothes behind her and I catch them before they fall as she tackles Rarity in a massive hug. Something is fucking wrong with her if she’s gotta get all lovey-dovey with everyone she meets. If this keeps up, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to hug a dragon next.

“Dearie! You’re... crushing me!” She squeaks. Kaileena lets her go and quickly apologizes. Rarity takes a few deep breaths. “Well, why don’t you try it on, dearie?”

“Oh. Well...” the Bast’s face is flushed red with a hint of embarrassment. “Sure. I’ll do it.” She takes the clothes away from me and goes inside to change.

“So... is she your....” Rarity begins.

“Me what?” I ask, my eyebrow raised.

“You know! Your mare- er, girlfriend!” Rarity gets a tad giddy at the G word, but I decide to slow that down to a screeching halt.

“She’s not me girlfriend. To be honest, I’m not sure if she really does like me back. Besides, who in their right mind would go for this?” I point at my scarred face. Rarity smiles sheepishly at the question.

“Erm... guys?” Kaileena’s voice says. Me and Rarity turn our heads to see her and-

Whoa.

The purple clothes, decorated with the yellow tribal markings, aren’t too tight on her, nor are they too loose. Instead, they fit her figure almost perfectly, accenting her curves beautifully. The lavender hue of the tunic and skirt clash magnificently with her hazel eyes and black and white fur. One of the gold shawls is wrapped around her hips, and the other was around her neck.There was a gold necklace around her neck as well, with a purple jewel in the shape of what looks like an Algerian love knot at the end of it. I feel my face go hot at the sight of her.

She’s... she’s beautiful.

…Why are my pants getting tight?

...BONER. STOP. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

AsSuMiNg dIrEcT CoNtRoL....

No! You go too far this time!

“Do you all like it?” Kaileena asks.

“It suits you beautifully, darling!” Rarity cries, her work an obvious success.

“It’s... it’s lovely,” I say as genuinely as I can, my breath being taken away by the elegance of the Bast before me.

“Thanks, you guys,” Kaileena says. She walks over to me and, without a warning, she hops on my back again.

“Oof!”

“Sorry!” She says.

“Nevermind that,” I grumble. “How much do we owe you?”

“You need not owe me anything, darlings; it was my pleasure,” Rarity says.

“Very well,” I nod. I beat my wings and gain some air. “Bye, Rarity! We’ll see ya soon!”

“Toodles, darlings! Have a safe journey!” The fashionista calls at us.

Our stomachs grumble slightly, for they had not been nourished in several hours. As we fly across the small town, I see in the distance the ever-acclaimed farm known as Sweet Apple Acres. “Let’s get some lunch from over there, shall we?” I suggest. Kaileena nods her assent, and I fly in the direction of the apple farm.

Once I am situated on one of the apple tree’s branches, Kaileena gets off, opens the backpack, and begins loading it with apples from the tree. The near-bottomless bag just swallows the apples whole, leaving more room for more apples. Once the tree is clear, she closes the bag and hopes back on my back again.

“‘Ey!” A voice with a southern drawl hollers. We turn our heads and gulp to see Applejack galloping towards us, an angry look upon her face. “Those ain’t yer apples! Ah want ‘em back!”

I flap my wings and gain airtime again. “Well, that’s just too fuckin’ bad, ain’t it?” I say, my trollface once again equipped as I begin leaving the scene.

“YA CAIN’T DO THIS!” She screams as she bucks a stray apple at us. It would have hit me had I not dipped out of the way.

“OH MY GOD, APPLEJACK! YOU ACT LIKE I EVEN CARE!”

And with that, I flee the scene.

Canterlot, here I come....

Shadow: A long and awesome crossover with Doctor D's badass fic, "Quest Of A Nobody". Check it out, y'all: it's incredible.

XVII - Trainride Antics

Leather-Winged Oddity

XVII - Trainride Antics

Allow me to ponder this question.

Have you ever just sat around, and wondered what "life" is? This world, reality, and life, what do they all mean? We could just be figments of someone's imagination, or really we could just be nothing. I often ask myself this question, but in the end, I always end up depressed, or just giving up.

What does achieving something good in life get you in return? We're all going to die anyways, so what's the point? If all that hard work and hours of stress all amount to nothing when you die, what's the point?

What's the point in even living anymore? Society's screwed, people are screwed, the whole world is basically screwed. So, right now, what's the point in living?

I’ll tell you what the point is: to make something of ourselves; to leave our mark in this world; to be heroic, historic, even legendary.

To be remembered.

That’s all we ever want, and as humans, we will fight tooth and nail for it, until it’s rightfully ours.

This fact always seems to just... lift me out of whatever depression I get stuck in.

However... what’s this feeling I’m having? You know, that feeling where it feels like you got punched in the stomach after you did something?

What’s it called... “guilt”?

I think so... I mean, after all, I did steal those apples from AJ: I could’ve probably damaged her financial income. I need to apologize, and pay her for what I had done. It was a bit of a necessity to take those apples; however, I still feel wrong.

Guess it’s my past catching up with me here...

I shake my head as me and Kaileena land in front of the ticket booth of the Ponyville station. The stallion behind the desk, a tan unicorn pony with a dark red mane, raises a brow at our odd appearance, but doesn’t speak up. However, that doesn’t stop others from looking at us and muttering in disdain. I shrug it off, like I always have.

“Two tickets ta Canterlot, please,” I request of the ticketmaster.

“Certainly: that’ll be twenty Bits,” the ticketmaster tells us. In response, Kaileena rummages into my backpack and pulls out the pouch of Bits. I do a quick headcount on all the Bits inside. So far, I have about 45 Bits left, the five that it took to make fifty being spent at the motel last night. I pluck out twenty Bits and hand them over to the ticketmaster, who nods and smiles as his orange magical aura envelops the coins and takes them. In return, two tickets to Canterlot are given to us.

“Thank ya kindly, lad,” I tell him. He nods and smile again as we leave the line and head towards the colorful train, the Friendship Express.

When I flash our tickets at the conductor, he simply nods and lets us inside. The train’s whistle blew twice, the steam whooshing out and emitting a loud sound.

“It’s gonna be quite a while before we can get ta Canterlot, Kaileena,” I tell the Bast next to me as we enter the train (granted, we had to stoop and I had to fold my wings in so that we wouldn’t hit ourselves on the threshold) and board one of the cars that passengers sleep in overnight. Some of the bunks are already loaded with passengers, who are either trying to catch up on lost hours of sleep or waiting for the night to come to them by killing time by reading, writing, or drawing.

“Psst,” I say, tapping one of the passengers, a pink mare with a black mane, on the shoulder as she reads what appears to be a romance novel. She looks up at me and Kaileena and gulps in surprise at my appearance, her orange eyes wide. “I mean ya no harm, lass,” I whisper as I raise my hands defensively. “I was just wonderin’ if ya had a spare quill, inkwell, an’ some parchment.”

“What for?” she whispers.

“I wanna write a few letters ta some friends o’ mine here.”

“Alright, then.” She plunges her hooves into her saddlebag at the foot of her bed and pulls out a black falcon-feather quill with a golden handle, a pewter pot of ink the size of my fist, and a few sheets of parchment, with about ten different-colored ribbons to tie the parchment up.

“Thank ya very much,” I tell her as she hoofs over the writing materials. She smiles warmly. “I’ll return these once I’m done.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you can keep them: I’ve got more in my bag,” she says before she returns to reading her novel. I sit down towards what looks like one of the last bunks in the car, and Kaileena sits in the one above me. I lean back against the headboard of the bunk and prop the parchment on my knee. Once I open the inkwell in between my legs, I dip the quill inside and hold the writing tool steady as I prepared to write to...

...who?

To whom should I write this to first? I run a little database scan in my brain: I should definitely write to Applejack, then maybe Khajiit, seeing as how he needs a new arm and I’m heading to Canterlot to get one. I considered writing to Akio, but then I remembered that he can’t read English, so that’s out the window. Next ought to be Echo, telling him about my adventures as well, and how he and his pals are doing and what he’s up to. Perhaps even Hollow while I’m at it, and perhaps this Griffin fellow I've been hearing quite a bit about, also-

Whoa! Chill the fuck out, Damien! One at a time!

Er, right. Thanks, Brain.

Don’t mention it, bro.

Right at that moment, I heard purring above my head. Apparently, Kaileena was asleep. Damn, that cat sleeps fast....

Alright. Applejack, first.

I place the tip of the quill upon the paper and, after think of what to say in my letter, begin writing, hoping the southern belle cowpony could read my cursive handwriting.

Dear Applejack,

I sincerely apologize for stealing your apples. It was a terrible thing for me to do, and I wish I had never done it. However, it was a necessity, for our food supply was running low. Here in this letter is also twenty-five Bits, all of them for you.

Please accept this apology and let bygones be bygones.

Most sincerely,

~Damien O’Connor.

I place the twenty-five Bits inside the letter and roll up the parchment until it was a neat little scroll. I tied up the scroll with a length of red ribbon and lay it on my right side, next to the window. I make sure that I remember that Applejack’s letter is the one with the red ribbon before I take a second sheet of paper. Next is Khajiit.

Once the quill is refilled with ink, I recommence writing.

Dear Khajiit (or Mango Jack. However you wish to go by),

How’s it been, man? Found what you were looking for in Stalliongrad? How’s Ren and Faultless?

Anyways, I did not send this letter to you just to make mere small talk: Currently, I’m heading to Canterlot, for you see, a terrible incident has occurred. I have lost my left arm while me and Kaileena were ambushed by a massive acid-spitting worm.

As for why I’m heading to Canterlot, I’m going to see Princess Luna in the hopes that she could forge me a new arm there. Perhaps you would like one as well?

Reply soon, please. Kaileena says hi, and she’s psyched that she can now see colors (A bit of praying to a certain Egyptian Sky Goddess was in order for that to happen.)

Most sincerely,

~Damien O’Connor.

Two letters down, an unsure amount left. I tie the now-rolled-up scroll with a blue ribbon this time, and lay next to Applejack’s letter. First, I should send them and wait for some responses.

I already know the Latin incantation: “Submitto ad (insert name here)”. However, will it be worth a risk if I summon Ellipsis in here?

Well, it’s worth a shot, right?

I stick out my right hand and hold in a breath, a bead of sweat trickling down my temple. I will Ellipsis out from the abyss, and sure enough, the scythe appears in my hands in a flashing blink of light and a weight in my hand. I let out a breath at how silent the procedure was. I look at the gem at the top of the shaft and smile: apparently, because I had killed that massive worm, the scythe’s gem was glowing at a such a blinding rate, that I have to blink a few times so that my eyes could adjust.

Damn it... that might wake someone up.

I clumsily place my wooden hand on the scroll with the red ribbon, the one for Applejack, and clear my throat before muttering, “Submitto ad Applejack.”

The effect was instantaneous: the scroll goes up in a ball of green flame, before the smoky wisps soon grow smaller and smaller until they vanish with a little poof. I jump back in shock at the scene, almost unsettling the inkwell in between my legs and staining my clothes.

“Did I just burn that letter?!” I murmur in shock. This doesn’t make sense: If I had, the blanket beneath me and my arm would’ve been scorched as well.

Hang on... green flames? That seems so... familiar.

…

Oh, yeah! Spike breathes green flames whenever he sends letters.

I look at the gem again; it has ever-so-slightly dimmed from the spellcasting, but it’s still too bright for the tired eyes of the ponies that share this car. Next is Khajiit’s letter. I place my wooden hand on the blue scroll and say the incantation again, this time with Khajiit’s name in it. The scroll goes up in another ball of green flame and another small poof.

A minute or two transpire as I was determining on whether to write to either Echo or Hollow next, before my stomach gives off a small rumble, and not just out of hunger. Without warning-

*URRP!*

Whoo! Excuse me.

Wait a damn minute... did I just belch out a scroll?

Oh, great... I’m a fax machine now, just like Spike.

Regardless of this situation, I pick up the scroll I had just regurgitated and remove the red ribbon keeping it rolled up. I open it and frown at Applejack's reply, mainly because I couldn't read it. And I'm not saying that because she's uneducated and illiterate: she's actually very smart and well-read. It's just that her reply isn't in English.

It's like with Echo: all I got were Equestrian hieroglyphs. Horseshoes, wings, pony heads, et cetera.

Damn it... I should've thought this one through...

I sigh and take a look around me at all the ponies around me. Would it be right to ask one of them to translate this for me?

"Excuse me, sir," I mutter, tapping a stallion on the shoulder as he was reading a newspaper.

"Not now," he hisses, waving his hoof to shoo me away.

"Oh... alright, then," I say in defeat like Fluttershy would before I shuffle back to my bunk and sit on it in resignation

Hang on a fucking second.... I can do magic! I can translate it myself!

You are a strong, independent Irish D-Imp who don't need no translator!

Damn it, Brain....

What? I couldn't help it.

Whatever.

I grab my scythe with my right hand and place my left hand on the reply from Applejack. Now what was that incantation called, Damien? Think for a second... what did we all ask Reverend Peters in Scripture class whenever he said something incredibly complex in Latin?

C'mon, Brain, help me out, will ya?!

I'm having just as much trouble as you are, asshat!

Crap... Wait!

"Vertere ad Anglorum,' I mutter after a minute of thinking. At once, the Equestrian hieroglyphs became readable English words. I mean, sure, they looked like scribbles due to cartoon logic, but apparently, I could read them very clearly.

Peters, you magnificent old fart....

Dear Damien,

I humbly accept your apology, and I’m glad that we can sweep this under the rug and be friends. I guess that Hollow fellow of yours was right when he told me that you took those apples for necessity. And I’m glad that you want to pay for those apple that you took.

Write back soon, you hear?

Sincerely,

~Applejack

P.S.: I wrote this all by myself, but I had to have Twilight translate it for me, since we Equestrians don't speak your language.

I give a small smile at the postscript as I carefully place the letter inside my backpack, letting its hammerspace swallow it. I looked outside and still saw that there was some light out, but the sun was slowly sinking. It felt like it was almost evening.

However, I rummage into my backpack for one of the apples I had now officially paid for and munch on it.

Whoa....

Dear Lord... it’s so... INCREDIBLE!

Think of the most delicious and ripe apple that you’ve ever had. Think of the juiciness, the crispness, the flavor, the freshness; the overall taste and feel of the apple. Now, take it, multiply it by ten, and you’ve got yourself an apple straight off of a tree from Sweet Apple Acres. I can see why business is booming for Applejack’s farm: these things are delicious!

Before I know it, I start wildly eating the apple immediately and finish it in about five or six bites. My stomach gives another short rumble, and I eat another apple, along with a small piece of meat.

“Urgh... what a weird, disgusting creature, eating meat like that,” a snide voice comments. I turn to see a turquoise unicorn mare in the bunk next to me looking at me in disgust. Apparently, she has quite a bit of jewelry, as well as an eloquent hairstyle (you know what? I give up on trying to differentiate regular grammar and Equestrian grammar by not saying “manestyle”) and nice-looking makeup. Clearly, she was one of the uppercrusts on this train.

Time for some fun...

I slowly chew the beef in my maw, and swallow before I turn to face her. “Hey. I like meat, so why don’tcha shut yer whore mouth?” I suggest darkly as I quickly disperse Ellipsis back into the Abyss and trash the apple cores outside.

Above me, I hear some snickering.

Kaileena, you faker. I can’t believe I thought you were asleep.

“Why, I never!” The mare is rather flabbergasted. Quite haughtily, she gets out of her bunk and starts to walk out of the car.

“Yeah, you go, girl.” I pause for a second. “And take those tacky horseshoes with ya.”

The mare looks back at me, gasps, then turns her head up and nose high. “Hmph!” She walks out of the car, leaving us occupants in our lonesome.

“Thanks, man,” a stallion says as he pops his head out of his bunk. He looks surprised by my appearance, but takes it in stride. “That mare’s been complaining about this train’s car, saying the beds are uncomfortable and how we ‘smelled’.” A look of annoyance appeared on his face, but it is soon perished by happiness. “Thank you.” The other ponies, the non-snooty kind, start nodding in assent.

“Don’t mention it, lad; just happy I could help,” I say. The ponies who had turned to face me returned to their own bunks.

Just like that, I give off another belch, and another scroll, with a blue ribbon, appears. I unfurl it and begin reading Khajiit’s response, which, despite how his right hand is gone, I see the writing is clean and neat.

Dear Damien,

Nice to hear from you, man. Me, Faultless, and Ren are perfectly fine right now; Faultless says “hi”. Now that you mention it, no, we haven’t found what we were looking for, to our great disappointment.

However, I got some good news. I got a job as a waiter in a bar in Stalliongrad. Pay’s good, and the customers are pretty cool. But you’re kinda lucky: at least you can write with your right hand and you lost your left; I can’t say the same for me.

Which is why I have Faultless writing this for me.

As for your offer, sure; I’d like that. I mean, I was going to head to Bitsburg for it, seeing as how it’s the Steampunk City, but if you want to get me one, then sure: take as long as you need to get it to me, seeing as how forging seems like a long process.

Take care, Damien.

Sincerely,

~Khajiit

P.S.: Why the hell did no one tell me about these robotic arms? Seriously, if I’d known, I’d have gotten one sooner.

P.P.S.: Tell Kaileena I say “hi” back.

I chortle a bit before I roll up the scroll again and place it in my bag. With a massive yawn, I decide to hit the hay in early. I carefully put the stopper on the inkpot and place it and the quill in a side pocket on my backpack. Just like with the main zipper, this side pocket also has hammerspace. Weird....

Nonetheless, I crawl under my blanket and get ready to go to sleep...

...until the sound of crying breaks out in the middle of the room about a minute or two later.

Reluctantly, I get up, trying to pinpoint the sound. At last, I find a mother and her little babe in an upper bunk. The mother, a green Earth Pony mare with a gold-colored mane, is trying to shush and calm the infant, a silver Earth Pony colt with a blue mane, his crying sending weird, painful pangs throughout my heart.

Blegh, I can’t believe I just said that... it sounds so... corny.

But nevermind that: I’ve got a baby to cheer up and a woman to make happy.

“What seems ta be th’ problem, madam?” I ask the mare.

“Oh, it’s my little Chrome Finish,” she tells me, looking at me with concern. “One minute, he was fine and sleeping; the next, he just suddenly started crying like this.”

“Perhaps he’s bein’ possessed by a devil?”

“What?!” The mare blurts incredulously. I chortle again.

“‘M just kiddin’, madam. Is he hungry, does he need changing, or does he need attention?”

“I don’t know!” The mare is panicking. I see the look in her eyes and feel a bit of disappointment: she’s got rookie eyes. She doesn’t know what to do. “I changed him and fed him before he slept!”

“Hmm...” I rub my chin, pondering on what to do.

*DING!* Ideeeaaaa~!

Ew, that sounded gay.

Screw you, Brain; my brother was gay, and you never had problems with him.

I don’t mind your brother, because that's how he is; I mind you and your sexual preferences and behavior.

...you’re an asshole, Brain. You know that, right?

Eh, I try.

Clearly, you do.

“Ma’am? Allow me.” I close my eyes and screw my face up in concentration.

“Sir, if you need the bathroom, it’s down the hall,” the mare deadpans over the crying of her baby colt.

“Goddammit, no!” I snap. “Now shut up an’ lemme concentrate!”

*POOF!*

“Gah!” the mare exclaims as the small smokescreen appears over me and I become a smaller blob-like Devil Imp. A few of the passengers gasp in shock. “Sir, are you alright?”

“Yeah!” I say, my now high-pitched Irish voice reaching her ears and making her raise a brow. When the smoke clears and I fly up to her eye level, she and the passengers gasp again. “’M fine.”

The mare is left speechless for a few seconds. But when she does speak-

“Awwww!” She cooes. “You look sooo cute!”

“Yes, I know,” I say exasperatedly. The baby in her forelegs stops crying and starts looking at me in teary-eyed curiosity.

Without hesitation, I start pulling funny faces in the hopes to make the baby laugh. “Bleeeegh!” I say, my tongue lolling out of my head as I shake my head/body back and forth, causing my tongue to flail back and forth. “Look at th’ funny face!”

The baby blinks a few times before breaking out in happy giggles. I smile, and, surprisingly, let out a small squee. The baby giggles louder. I raise my tail and start to tickle him with it. The baby laughs even harder at the gesture, and the mother smiles widely at me.

“There! See? ‘S not too har- GAH!” The baby immediately grabs my tail and yanks it towards him, pulling me along with it. Along with a sharp pain where my arse is, I feel the baby squeezing me...

...and gnawing on my head with his toothless mouth.

“AHH! HELP! HE’S EATIN’ MEEEE!” I cry out in fear.

No, seriously. I’m scared shitless. Do you KNOW what’s like to be eaten by something bigger than you? It sucks. Even worse, the eater’s an infant, and I’m an adult.

So clearly, the odds are not in my favor at the very moment.

At my cry, I hear a thump and footsteps before I see Kaileena come into view, a look of surprise on her face. At the sight of me, she stifles the oncoming giggles. “C’mon, Blob Boy,” she mutters as she pulls me out of the baby’s grasp.

“Oh, ha-ha, very original,” I deadpan. The infant is still giggled, even as I’m pulled away. The mare holding her colt nuzzles him, and he returns the affectionate gesture.

D’AWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Ah, Brain! I always knew you had a softer interior compared to that rocky outside.

Shut up, okay?! I’m only a pansy-ass when cute displays between ponies are involved!

Whatever...

The mare smiles at the both of us before saying, “Thank you so much, Mr... um...”

“Damien O’Connor.” With another poof and smokescreen, I return to being a human Devil Imp. “At yer service,” I say in my normal voice.

“Damien O’Connor?” A random passenger asks once the smoke clears. “Aren't you that guy that escaped from the Stalliongrad tower?”

“Ehehe, yeah,” I say nervously, scratching my head. This can’t be good.... “Sorry if I caused any troubles.”

“Strange. The wanted posters said you were dangerous...” the mother comments. “You don’t look it.”

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. Relief flowed through me like a splendid river. “Alright, love,” I finally say.

"Wait, what? You love me? You've only just met me!" The mare declares out of shock, though her cheeks redden ever so slightly at the embarrassment she's being plowed with.

"No, I mean..." I sigh in frustration. "In Ireland an' Scotland, callin' someone 'love' is a term o' kindness towards a woman, not one o' affection." When the mare nods, I change the subject. "But anyways, I'm glad ta see that I could be o' some help.” I turn around and head back to my bunk, but not before I smile at the mare, who returns the smile. The colt in her arms waves happily and giggles, which I also return with gusto.

I sit back into the bottom bunk and lay on it as Kaileena climbs back onto the top bunk above me. I look out the window and see that the train has covered about a third of the destination. I sigh in content and lean back in my bed, arms behind my head as I nap peacefully in the bunk.

Three or four hours fly by like hawks in a dive, and before we know it, we reach the train station of Canterlot.

Time to get this over with....

XVIII - Screw Your Red Carpet! I Brought My Own!

Leather-Winged Oddity

XVIII - Screw Your Red Carpet! I Brought My Own!

Canterlot is, by far, one of the largest and most regal cities in Equestria that I have yet to see.

There’s just something about that place that simply wails “fancy”, such as the well-dressed ponies that traipse the white stone roads, the miraculous houses and mansions, or the immaculate castle of Canterlot that sits at the edge of the city. Even from far away, every single stone that make up the city gleams like diamonds caught in the light.

And here I sit in my bunk, my right hand gripping my newly-acquired quill and parchment, with a green ribbon this time.

Dear Hollow,

I’m writing to you in the hopes that we can tell one another about our going-ons. How are you? How are Elie and Eve doing?

I take it that perhaps Pinkie Pie threw one of her miraculous parties to welcome you three, eh? Well, that’s swell. I honestly hope that you three enjoyed yourself.

Listen: you’re probably wondering why I did that whole bananas thing earlier today. If so, brace yourself, a long explanation is coming.

You see, it’s actually an internet meme founded by bronies... and you’re probably what a brony is, now that I mentioned it.

A brony is, essentially, a fan of the new Generation 4 My Little Pony show "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic" by Lauren Faust (creator of Powerpuff Girls and Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends.” It mostly refers to the older male viewers of the show, but female fans use it too. A Brony is generally pretty involved in the community at large. It Typically refers to 13-30 year old male fans of the 2010 reboot of the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, but may also include females known as “pegasisters”.

In layman terms, brony = bro + pony, and pegasister = pegasus + sister.

While generally associated with a negative stereotype by outsiders, due to it's former 80's frilly, girly-girl, twinkle-toed, tea-parties and all-female main casting, bronies are attracted to the new show by its good animation, acting, writing, and humor. Having once been on the outside, bronies can love and tolerate others until they themselves become bronies. However, haters gonna hate— most likely due to the fact that they have a masculinity inferiority complex, where they believe that if they watched My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, others like them will label them as an effeminate freak.

It’s true. There are people out there, and they’re scattered all across the globe of both Earth and Equus, this planet.

But enough of my drivel.

What I actually want to say is that I hope your adventures on finding your fragments becomes a success, and that I will be cautious of this Xolhowl that you mentioned earlier.

Sincerely,

~Damien O’Connor

I sigh in content as I wrap up the scroll with the green ribbon and tie it up. I place my hand and hold Ellipsis tightly. “Submitto ad Hollow.”

The scroll hovers a few feet, and starts to sparkle, but it falls back on the bunk with a weird flatulent sound, like what you would get out of a whoopie cushion.

Aaaand just like that, the ponies on board start glaring at me in disgust and disappointment.

“...I didn’t do it,” I say stupidly.

“Uh-huh. Sure...” With that out of the way, the crowd of equines stop glaring at me and face forward.

I don’t get it... why didn’t the scroll get sent? Maybe Hollow can’t use magic...?

If that’s the case....

“Submitto ad.... Eve.” This time, the scroll bursts into flame and disappears with a pop.

“Psst!” I call to the Bast resting in the bunk above me as the train starts to slow down. Kaileena leans over the edge and faces me whilst her head is upside-down. Now that I see it, Kaileena actually has hair; why I don’t notice it is probably because said hair blends in with her fur, but it’s actually long enough to announce itself when pulled or disturbed. The hair is just the length of a regular forearm, by the looks of it. To be honest, it looks kind of nice on her.

“What is it?” She asks, destroying my train of thought about her hair.

“Listen, I was thinkin... when we get off the train, do ya wanna make an entrance o’ some sort?” I suggest to her. She contemplates the situation, putting a hand to her chin. Unfortunately, that makes her lose her handling on the bed’s frame, and she slips out of it, landing on the ground with a yelp and a thud. The passengers all look at her in concern; some even ask if she is okay.

But me?

“PFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!”

I’m sorry, but... hot damn, that was funny!

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, you bastard...” she murmurs grumpily as I help her up. She dusts herself off just as the train finally pulls into the Canterlot train station.

“So, what’s yer answer?” I ask. The Bast once again churns the decision in her head, by the looks of it. Hell, I almost thought I could hear the cogs in her feline brain turning. Once the train’s slow traversion becomes even slower, she nods once.

“Sure. But, uh... how do you wish to go about it?” she inquires as the train now comes to a complete stop. I motion for her to come closer, and she obliges by leaning her head in, giving us the ability to talk quietly without being overheard.

“Here’s th’ plan...”

‘Tis a perfect day for the ponies of Canterlot.

The ponies that litter the streets trot across the cobblestone, speaking with one another on whatever topics that cross their minds. A few are gathering at the train station to meet with each one’s respective relatives to welcome them into the city.

When the ponies on board the train vacate the train, each of their friends or family members greet them with great gusto.

However, the equines soon come across a strange oddity as they got closer to the train.

“...where’s that music coming from?” One of them asked.

Almost at once, one of the weirdest creatures anypony has ever seen bursts through one of the doors: the creature has a fleshy appearance with a patch of black fur on his head and a smaller patch on his chin. He is donned in a sky blue tunic with silver trimming, along with white pants and undershirt. The hood of the tunic flaps in the wind with the loincloth, bearing a red eye crying out a lone tear of blood. The wings on the monster’s head were leathery and draconic, yet the hind legs appeared to be of that of an eagle.

Even weirder, he is singing.

"Ahhhhhhhhh

Ya ya yaaaah

Ya ya yaaah

Yaaah ya yah

"Ohohohohoooo

Oh ya yaaah

Ya ya yaaah

Yaaah ya yah

He starts to stroll down the station, a black-and-white cat-like figure wearing a purple skirt and tunic, and a yellow shawl around her neck and her hips holding his hand. He stops in the middle of a clearing of ponies, who were looking at him and smiling at the song, some even doing a little jig or two.

"Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeh

Ye-ye-yeh

Ye-ye-yeh

Ohohohohoh

"Ye-ye-ye-ye-yeh

Ye-ye-yeh

Ye-ye-yeh

Ohohohohooooooooooo

Aaaaoooooh aaaooo

Hooo haha

He goes about skipping in a circle around the clearing with the cat biped, waving at the many ponies that he passes by. A few giggle, others turn their nose up in snootiness.

"Nah nah nah nah

Nuh nuh nuh

Nuh nuh nuh

Nuh nuh nuh

Nuh nuh nah!

He stops dramatically in the middle of the clearing.

"Nah nah nah nah nun

Nun-ah nun

Nun-ah nuh

Nah nah nah nah nah!

"Nah nah nah nah Naaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Dah dah daaaaaaaaaah...

Da-da-dah....

Daaah..

Da-dah...

He does a little bit of a quick dance with taking care not to cut her feet with his talons.

"Lololololoooooooooooooo!

"Lah la-laaah

La la laaah

lol

haha

"Ohohohoho

ho-ho-ho

ho-ho-ho

oh-ho-ho-ho-ho

"Ohohohoho

ho-ho-ho

ho-ho-ho

Lololololooo...

He throws his head back and raises his voice and pitch.

"AAIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeee-eeeee-EEEEEEEEE!"

He lowers his tone, giving it a deep bass pitch.

"Luh-luh-lah...

Lah

Lah-lah"

He returns his voice to a normal pitch.

“Ohohohohooooooooo!

BOPadudududu-dah-da-du-daaaah!

Da-da-daaaah

Daaah

Da-daaah...

“Lololololo

lololo

lololo

Lalalalah!

“Trololololo

lalala

lalala

“Oh-hahaha-ho!"

He points at a random mare, who giggles at the gesture.

“Haha-hehe-ho!"

He points again at another random stallion, who smiles widely.

“Hohoho-he-ho!"

He then points at the cat-like biped next to him.

“Hahahaha-ho!"

He then spreads his arms out and turns to face them all.

“Lolololololo

Lolololololo

Lolololololo

Lololo-LOL!

The whole crowd can’t help but also sing along with it.

“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!

La-la-laaaah!

La la laaaah

Laaaah

La-lah...

“Ohohohohoooooooooo!

La, la-laaah!

La-la-laaah

lol-haha...

The song returns to the creature singing again.

“Lololololo

Lololo

Lololo

Ohohohoho!

He beats his leathery wings and ascends several feet, spreading out his hands and spinning slowly as he flies.

“Lololololol

Lololo

Lololo

"Ohohohohooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

Aaaaand the crowd goes wild.

As soon as I land, ponies everywhere around me start cheering their plots off, whistling and stamping against the cobblestone so hard that it almost cracked. I can't help but take a small bow.

Darn colorful equines and their fetish for musical numbers. I’m pretty sure said musical numbers are also one of the many ways to kick the ass of any baddy you come across.

...remind me to sing “Smile, Smile, Smile” whenever I see a dragon or a horde of Diamond Dogs.

At the time, Kaileena had hopped on my back, snapping me out of my reverie of battling with music. With that, I pump my wings and take flight for the second time, landing outside the ring of ponies that had gathered around.

As I land, I notice something, or somepony, rather peculiar...

“WATCH OUT!”

A white pegasus comes rushing towards... ME!

*BAM*

“Sorry... sorry, my apologies, flying’s trickier than I thought...”

“Ow... me everything....” I weakly sputter, my vision rather hazy. “Mummy?” I ask when I lift my head and see the white blurry figure looking at me in curiosity. “Yer not mummy...”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not.” The figure says.

“...Thank God.” I thump my head against the floor, but that awakens a headache in the back of my brain.. Fortunately, Kaileena gets up first and helps me to my claws. I shake my head to clear it of the dizziness. When I look for any damage, I spy an angry purple bruise developing on my chest.

How friggin' hard did he hit me?!

At once, the pegasus who had slammed into me with the strength of a wrecking ball changes shape and turns into a white unicorn, offering a smile. I jump back slightly at the transformation.

‘HOLY FLIPPIN’ BEJEEZUS, IT’S A CHANGELING.’

“Sorry sorry, again... that looks like a nasty bruise... let me take care of that, OK?” The unicorn mutters a few words and, just like that, the purple bruise grows lighter in shade until it disappears. I let a low whistle at the kind gesture.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Notus Eques, magician.”

“Nice ta meet ya, too, Notus. Name’s Damien O’Connor: Devil Imp,” I greet, shaking his hoof in earnest. “This here’s Kaileena.” I point at the Bast to my right, and she waves, grinning widely.

“So, you new here or something?” I nod.

“Mm-hmm. What about you?” I then ask.

“Came to Canterlot a few days ago. It’s a decent place, though...” His face darkens as if he was trying to turn purple. “I have a rather selfish master whose roof I live under.” He shakes his head, as if to tell of his misfortune.

“Selfish master, ya say?” Notus nods. “Why don’cha try an’... fight fer yer freedom?”

He stares blankly at me. “Well... it’s mostly a magical contract that’s the problem. Plus, she’s selfish, but there’s something about her that... you know.”

“Ah.” I nod in understanding. “Well, if ya ever complete the deeds the contract binds ya to (if any), then yer welcome ta come with us.”

A hoarse laugh rings out. “We’ll see... If I might be so forward to ask, what business do you have here?” He prods me for answers.

“I’ve come here ta purchase a better prosthetic than this one.” I hold up my left arm and knock on it sharply with the right hand, adding emphasis to the statement.

“Ah, well here’s some advice, avoid the nobility as much as possible.”

I suppress a shudder at the word “nobility”. Of course, after seeing that twat Prince Blueblood acting like... well, a twat at the Grand Galloping Gala, I’ve never been more angry and spiteful towards rich people, besides Bill Gates, of course: that guy’s like a nerdy Messiah.

“It’s not just disrespect and haughtiness you’ll find with that bunch, there are unsavory secrets and a dark zealousness you’ll find with them, so less you see of them, the better,” Notus presses on.

“Don’t worry about a thing, lad,” I assure Notus, who smiles a bit. “But forgive me for me rudeness, but... what are ya?” Notus raises a brow. “I mean, you’re not too much of a jackass ta be a changeling.”

“...What makes you think changelings are like that? I’ve only seen them in textbooks and grimoires, mind you, but have you had a bad run in with them?”

“Well, no.” I clear my throat before asking, “Have ya ever heard of a show called ‘My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic?’”

I almost recoil, thinking that Notus would find me to be a sissy... not exactly the best way to start becoming acquaintances.

“Absolutely not, I read fantasy stories as a hobby, I find ponies fascinating with their magical potential, though, so I’m sure it would have been something I could get behind.”

Whew! I didn’t just dodge a bullet: I barely avoided a large fucking nuke.

“Well... this universe is based off o’ that television show, if ya didn’t know about it. In one o’ th’ episodes, creatures known as changelings made a huge debut in the season two finale. Changelings are basically insectoid-like ponies that take th’ shape o’ someone ya love, and they feed on that love, making their victim weaker as time progresses,” I explain.

Now, I have just implanted in your minds why you should all suspect your friends to be changelings. Enjoy the paranoia, my bastard children.

Notus freezes, as if he just realized something and then continues onward. “I’m a familiar, a creature made of magic, with all the benefits of being essentially magic, especially with spell-casting.”

“So that explains the shape-shifting.” Notus nods.

“Through the contract and knowledge of anatomy of various species, I can rearrange my body to match the physical appearance of creatures I’ve seen, copying their abilities is a little out of my reach though... for now.”

Notus stares at me. “Forgive my boldness, but, are you human?”

I nod. “Aye.” I stick out my hand again and summon Ellipsis. With a flash of blinding light, the scythe appears in my hand again. Notus jumps back in surprise.

“Gah!”

“Relax!” I say. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.” I put my left hand to my chin, pondering the next words wisely. So far, magic is able to be performed through Latin. But how do I become a human again? Not that I don’t love this badass form of mine, but still.

So... I want to revert to my “true form”. True, in Latin, is “versa” or “versus”; form is “forma”. To return to my Devil Imp form, all I have to do is say "Reverti", or revert. As I’ve learned from Spanish and other languages, the adjective comes after the noun. So...

“Forma versus.” At my words, a flash of light appears and swarms me from all sides. The light subsides a second later, and I examine my body. Thankfully, I’m still in my clothes from before my sudden arrival here: storm grey eyes, black baggy cargo pants with a few steel chains, purple Converse sneakers, and a navy blue Princess Luna T-shirt concealed w/ a white hoodie.

And hallelujah! My arms have returned!

Notus is silent. “So it is possible...” He asks another question, “Do you have a god who talks to you constantly?”

“Er, not exactly constantly, but she pops in from time to time,” I explain as I regretfully return to my original body with a simple "Reverti."

Like right now?

‘...Yes, Nut, like right now.’ If goddesses could do a troll face, I'm sure Nut would be pulling one as we speak.

Sorry for interrupting you two.

‘Don’t worry about it.’

“So what about you?” I then ask: “what god or goddess likes to yammer on an’ on in yer head?”

Notus blinks, “His name is White Hat, Phenomenon of Heroes and he talks all the time...” Notus buries his hooves in his face.

“I’m sorry for yer pain, lad,” I put my hand on his shoulder and pat it reassuringly.

He accepts the reassuring pat. “If you’re looking for someone to make a body for you, I know a puppeteer who would be more than happy to make you some limbs, he’s rather hard to work with, but I can speak for his craft.”

“Thanks, Notus.” I say.

“We really appreciate your kindness,” Kaileena backs up.

Notus regards me with a warm smile. “No problem, we have to look out for each other right?”

“In this hellhole of a world? We’ll need all the help we can get.”

“In th’ meantime,” I continue, “take care, Notus. We need to up and go to the castle to find Princess Luna.” WHO IS BEST PONY.

For once, Brain, I agree.

How come I’M not best pony?

Because you’re not a pony.

...Damn

Notus waves a hoof, “If you’re interested in a limb dealer, then there’s a pony in Canterlot called True Pariah, the best of the business, you can meet him in several dark alleys.”

“How can I know which one’s actually True Pariah an’ not just an imitator or th’ typical dealer?”

Notus sighs. “He’ll be the weirdo smashing a wall, drinking coffee, slurping green slime and screaming profanities over his lack of inspiration.” Notus murmurs with a deadpan voice.

“Ah. I see.”

Note to self: Pariah ain’t nothin’ ta fuck with.

“Well... see you later, Damien.”

“See ya around, Notus!” I call as we both go to our separate ways, him walking down the street, and me and Kaileena walking up the street.

OK, so... four humans have been found: Echo, the mute Diamond Dog; Khajiit, the brown one-armed Bast; Hollow, a Samurai Nobody; and finally Notus Eques;

With the agenda of finding a new arm now facilitated (despite my disappointment of not seeing Woona), me and Kaileena set off to find True Pariah.

Now, is it me, or does it feel like I've just sent myself on a wild goose chase?

But alas, that question remains unanswered, for I had just coincidentally bumped into two rather... familiar ponies....

Er... quite literally.

"Good heavens, sir! Are you alright?"

I don't own Notus Eques: he belongs to Proud_Dust.

XIX - A Unique Union With Unicorns (OR Runnin' From Tha Popos)

Shadow: LOL, GOING OUT OF ORDER FOR THE SAKE OF UPDATING

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XIX - A Unique Union With Unicorns (OR Runnin’ From Tha Popos)

Well... that was fun.

I feel like that collision reawakened that bruise Notus made.

I get up and dust myself off for the second time. When I look up to see who I had just rammed into, I give a gasp at who I recognize.

One of the ponies is an alabaster unicorn, with an impeccable azure mustache and hair, a gold-rimmed monocle on his right eye, and the top half of a black tuxedo, with a silver pocket watch chain dangling a bit. His Cutie Mark is a trio of gold crowns; the other pony is also a unicorn whose ivory fur coat shines in the remaining light of the setting sun. She adjusts her pink mane with a delicate hoof before reaching down to help Kaileena up off the floor; she had run into me and took a spill onto the cobblestone. Her Cutie mark is a trio of fleur de lis’s, the middle being a sunflower yellow being flanked by two purple ones.

“Good heavens!” Fancypants exclaimed before scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m terribly sorry for that!”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I say. “So, how are ya?”

“I’m doing quite well, good sir,” Fancypants answers. “As is Fleur De Lis, no?”

The mare in question nods. “My, quite a peculiar accent this creature has, dear,” Fleur De Lis murmurs before giggling. “Don’t you agree?”

Ohhhh, makin’ fun o’ mah accent, are we? I see how it is.

“Indeed so, milady,” Fancypants chuckles. “Sounds so very foreign.” The fancy altruist blinks a bit and chuckles. “So sorry, I’m afraid that I never introduced myself.” He holds out his hoof to me and I give it a shake. “I am known as Fancypants. This is my companion, Fleur De Lis.’

“A pleasure to meet you two,” Fleur says.

Fancypants then looks at my scythe and smiles a bit. “I say, what material is this weapon crafted out of? The luster and sharpness are incredible!”

“Mithril,” Kaileena answers.

“Mithril?” Fleur De Lis tilts her head in confusion.

“Correct: mithril is a metal found inside a meteor. It’s light as air, and as durable and sharp as dragon scales.”

Mithril is also an indigo metal from Runescape... heheheh....

Brain, silence. I’m trying to talk.

Awwww! You’re no fun!

And you’re annoying as shit. Are we done here?

“Intriguing!” Fancypants declares. “Where did you get such a rare metal such as this?’

“Indeed,” Fleur concurs. “I wish to know as well.”

Dang, five minutes in and already I’m popular amongst the ponies of Canterlot. Nothing could go wrong right now at the very moment, right?

“Well," I begin, "I got it from-”

“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!”

...Permission to rage?

Permission granted, Brain.

FFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

I turn around, and with a quick spasm of concentration, banish Ellipsis. I gulp at what beholds my eyes.

Guards.

Guards everywhere.

Flanking us on both sides, the Royal Guard of Canterlot glare at us menacingly, mainly at me and Kaileena. They’re the uniform white pegasus and charcoal-colored unicorn stallions in gold armor and gold helms, the pegasi having electric blue plumes, and the unicorns having snow white plumes. In each of their hooves is a spear with a golden spearhead. While not advisable at all to have gold armor and weaponry, since gold is a relatively soft metal and is used mainly for jewelry and accessories, the overall effect is rather intimidating.

“Oh, what in th’ holy hell’s it now?” I grumble audibly. As a matter of fact, nevermind, I know what it’s all about.

One of the guards steps forward and clears his throat. “Damien O’Connor, you and your cat accomplice Kaileena are under arrest for escaping Stalliongrad’s Stone Tower-”

“Don’t care.”

“Not being a pony while in possession of a weapon-”

“Bullshit rule, still don’t care.”

“And assault and battery upon several of the Royal Guards.”

“Hey, they had it comin’ ta them.”

“And may I ask how not being a pony while in possession of a weapon is a “bullshit” rule?” One of the unicorn guards asked.

“Because it’s viewed as racism. If Equestria really was the land of peace and harmony, then that rule wouldn’t be enforced. Moreover, ya should’a asked me if I needed me weapon, which I did, mainly because I’m traveling around this damn place an’ always run inta annoyin’ obstacles like you racist twats.” That comment infuriates a few of them, due to the fact that they’re trumped at their own game of making me look like the bad guy.

“Now, need I say more?” I suggest; “Or will you ridiculous-looking bastards get outta our way an’ leave us be?”

“You fool!” The pegasus guard hollers.

Really? I just made you look like an ass and all you can call me is fool? Good heavens, these equines are bad at insulting others.

Note to self: teach ponies to swear.

No, Brain. What the hell is wrong with you.

"Sirs, I apologize, but I believe you've made a bit of an error,” Fancypants explains as his magic horn glows an azure hue. A large bag of Bits comes out of his coat pocket. “Would it be possible to forgive and forget all of this?”

“Are you trying to bribe us, Mr. Fancypants?” The unicorn guard asks again.

“Why, indeed I am,” the altruist unicorn remarks, a smirk on his face.

It’s official; Fancypants is second-best pony.

Agreed, Brain. Agreed.

(Epic chase song)

“Guards! Get those four!”

On second thought, scratch that; Fancypants just got demoted to thirty-fourth best pony.

“Oh shit!” Kaileena exclaims. Clearly, she’s taken after me a bit. “RUN!”

“Don’t need ta tell me twice, love!” I wail, launching my clawed feet down an alleyway as Kaileena, Fleur De Lis, and Fancypants follow me, the Royal Guards right on our tails as we swerve down the alleys and streets, avoiding any and all civilians.

“Don’t let them get away!” The Pegasus guard roars angrily.

“KEEP RUNNIN’!” I scream as I dive over a fruit stand, clearing the obstacle in one roll and continue running. “DAMMIT, FANCYPANTS, WHY DID YA TRY TA GIVE ‘IM MONEY?!”

“I thought it would help!” He retorts defensively as we then cross a ten-yard long bridge placed above a wide river.

“WELL, CLEARLY, IT DIDN'T!”

I grab Ellipsis from out of the Abyss and raise my left wooden hand. My brain pounding to come up with a spell that’ll help us lose the guards. “Terraemotus!” The gem’s light on my scythe dies down significantly, but there’s still some juice in it for a few more spells. I plow my prosthetic into the center of the bridge once the three get across. The spell, plus my strike to the bridge, caused it and everything in a twenty yard radius to quake and rumble like a tremor had swept the land.

With a huge pump from my wings, I jump about ten feet high and glide away from the now-decimated bridge, the rubble falling into the river below it that leads to a giant waterfall, probably the same one that’s portrayed in the television show.

“GET BACK HERE!” The pegasus guard bellows in rage, while many of his stallions lay on the floor, their legs numb from wobbling like violently-disturbed Jell-O, their brains aching from being shaken around so much.

“NO! FUCK YOU! DON’T TELL ME WHAT TA DO!” I yell at them while flipping them the bird from the other side of the river before we start running away again.

The pounding of hooves on cobblestone and feathery wings beating through the air dies out. I sigh a breath of relief at the fact that we lost them, but I still don’t give up running yet.

“FIND THEEEEM!”

Correction: we almost lost them.

Before we know it, me, Kaileena, and the two other unicorns hit a dead end on the street, with houses and shop windows flanking our left and right.

“Quick! Split up!” I holler as soon as I hear the sounds of the guards getting closer. Kaileena and I jump behind a pile of cardboard boxes in another alleyway, and Fleur and Fancypants duck behind a fruit stand. I fold my wings up and curl up in a fetal position to make myself appear smaller behind our cardboard hiding spot.

“Find them!” The unicorn guard orders again as the Royal Guard start stampeding down the streets for us. “Search everywhere!”

My heart was practically pounding in my ribcage, threatening to crack them. I look around for another spot to hide before the Royal Guard come back and find us.

“There!” Kaileena whispers. I look at where she points, and I see a manhole... or ponyhole. Whatever. It’s about three feet in diameter, perfect for us to fit through. She peeks over the boxes, then quickly ducks her head again, shaking it; clearly, the guards are still there. “Quick, make a distraction!”

I nod and grip Ellipsis tighter, my brain working overtime to come up with the next Latin spell.

“Excecandum lux!” I rise and point Ellipsis at the remaining guards, and with more light drained from the gem, a blinding flash of light rings out through the area, serving as a flashbang, but without the noise. Because I had looked away, I don’t have to worry about the pain of blinding light in my eyes.

But for those poor guards?

“GAAAAAAH! IT BURNS!”

“SOMEPONY! HELP MEEE!”

“MY RETINAS! MY RETINAAAS!”

Hot damn, I almost felt sorry for them.

“Fancypants! Fleur!” I call while the guards stumble around and bump into objects and one another like drunk idiots. “Come on!” I jam the blade of Ellipsis in between the manhole and the stone and start to wiggle the scythe like a crowbar. In a few seconds, I pry the lid to the sewers open and jump inside, folding my wings in so as to not hit them on the stone as I descend into the sewers.

“Look out below!” Kaileena cries, landing next to me on the stone walkway I have just landed on.

“We have to go down there?!” Fleur De Lis whines in despair. “But it’s so... dirty! And I’ve just been groomed and had my mane perfectly coiffed!”

“Woman, we ain’t got time! Move it or lose it!” I roar in frustration. Really!? You’re worried more about your looks than spending time in jail!?

“Oh, fine!” Fleur De Lis the Prissy Broad pouts and jumps down the hole. I try to catch her and set her down on the walkway, but... well...

*WHAM!*

“Ow! *Gerroff me!” I wheeze in anguish as Fleur lands on top of me, pinning my face to the ground with her... well, with her plot.

Bow-chicka-wow--

Brain, I swear to every single deity in existence that if you complete that sentence...!

Alright, alright!

“Goodness! Please forgive me!” Fleur apologises as she gets up off me. Fancypants clambers down the ladder and closes the lid of the sewers, making sure the guards can’t find us.

(Stop the song)

Unfortunately...

“Aw crap! I can’t see a thing!”

We’re plunged into darkness.

“Urgh... lux ” I murmur. The last of the gem's light becomes brighter, but not out of magic, the brightness illuminating the walls of the sewers.

The adrenaline from the chase wears off, and my lightheadedness from my spell-casting kicks in. That, plus the marvelously putrid stench of the sewers, causes me to... well...

You know what happens.

“Dude, gross!” Kaileena complains as I keel over and vomit into the river of disgusting green soup. I heave so hard and painfully that I’m starting to wonder if the human body could turn itself inside-out by doing what I’m doing.

“I say!” Fancypants declares.

“How vulgar!” Fleur adds.

“Shaddap!” I heave, getting back on my claws and shaking my head. I rip off my loincloth and tie it around my face, shrouding my nostrils from the stench. Kaileena takes the shawl around her neck and does likewise. Fancypants gives Fleur a handkerchief to tie around her muzzle. “Were you th’ ones castin’ those spells?” A second of hesitation. “No! Were you spendin’ yer energy an’ concentration on ensurin’ our safety? No! Now, shut yer damn gobs an’ let’s find a way outta here without gettin’ spotted by the guards!”

“Well, well, well!” says a slightly deranged voice down the walkway of the sewers. I look up in surprise, my heart pounding in my chest again. “Whadda we have here, eh?”

XX - An Alternate Form of Payment

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XX - An Alternate Form Of Payment

Have you ever been so frightened of something that your brain simply... shuts down for a second? Like.. you can’t believe something like this is happening? Your limbs go numb, your vision narrows, and the only thing you can hear is your own heart, hammering madly against your ribcage like it wants to escape your chest.

That’s what we all felt when we heard that voice.

“Who is there?” Fancypants calls down the walkway, his voice reverberating on the stone walls of the tunnel and partially drowned out by the sloshing green soup of sewer water.

“Don’t be shy, my little fillies!” The voice says. “It’s just me!” The owner of the voice steps into the light of Ellipsis’s gem. The speaker is a unicorn pony, apparently, with an auburn coat and shadow-bearing gold manic eyes. The top hat on his head of fiery red wild mane reminds me of Slash from Guns N’ Roses. He has a cloak and a pair of burgundy saddlebags upon his back, obscuring his Cutie Mark and tail from view.

“Who are you?” Answer the question, man, we ain’t got all evening.

“Name’s True Pariah, at your service.” The pony bows low before levitating a tankard he has in his magic grip towards his mouth, glugging down the contents of the tankard greedily. He pulls away and sighs in content a second later. “Ah... green slime fills you somethin’ fierce, y’know?”

Shit... Notus wasn’t kidding. This guys is bucking fonkers.

“Er... no, lad.” I scratch the back of my head. “Listen... er, True Pariah-”

“Please, my main man, gimme a nickname; calling me True Pariah all the time sounds way too formal for this cool cat.” He puts a hoof to his chest in pride. “How about just Pariah?”

“Alrighty, then... Pariah, a friend o’ mine sent us here: Notus Eques? Ever heard o’ him?”

Pariah pauses for a second. “Er... nope. Can’t say that I have.”

“Well, he told me ta see ya ta get a better, workin’ replacement fer this arm o’ mine.” I hold up my left hand and give it a weak little shake.

“Ah... I see! Well, you came to the right pony, compadre! Follow me!” Pariah turns around and starts walking back the same way he came. “And bring that light with you! I’m too lazy to provide my own.”

“Sonuva...” I mutter. I look back at the three others behind me. “Should we follow?”

“We’ve got no other choice,” Kaileena says. “It’s not like we can go back up to the surface anytime soon. Besides, don’t you want that arm of yours?”

“Good point.” I gulp and nod. “Let’s go.” We hurriedly follow Pariah down the walkway. The auburn unicorn took a left into one of the tunnels of the sewers. As I look at the walls of the tunnels, I see thick glowing arrows painted in red onto them, pointing in the direction we are following. But when the light from my scythe, the arrows seem to... disappear.

Weird...

When we exit the tunnel, I see that the same red arrows appear on the floors of the walkway as well, even on the flat metal bridges we occasionally cross. Pariah continues going through the labyrinth of walkways and tunnels, with us trailing him. It’s like this for about two or three minutes, and my patience has never been run thinner.

“Are we there yet?” Fleur complains.

“We’ll get there when we get there!” Pariah hollers, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Ah... here we are!” What we walk into... causes us to go slack-jawed.

The room we have just entered is about as large as a common room, and is so tall that I can’t see the ceiling. Torches line up a wide metal walkway down to a massive circular platform about twenty-five meters in diameter in the middle of the room, with water surrounding the platform much like a moat would surround a castle. Four tunnels on the wall of the room create sloshing waterfalls of actual blue water into the pond below. On the borders of the platform are large poles, but they aren’t tipped with fire to create the glow they let off. Instead, there are golden spheres on each pole, glowing brightly as the sun. The spheres somewhat remind me of the glowstones from Minecraft. In the center of the large platform is a rather small taupe tent, with a fire pit and a long rusty ladder in front of the tent, the ladder leading up to a balcony that appears to lead to the surface world, at least... I think it does.

“C’est magnifique...” I hear Fancypants murmur.

“Welcome to my humble abode, fillies and gentlecolts!” Pariah whoops as we all head down the walkway. “Y’all can kick it here for a while until I finish the new limb.”

“Whoa...” I’m absolutely awestruck by the sight.

“How is the water so pure here, when it was disgusting and impure back in the tunnels?” asks Kaileena, curiosity probably pumping through her veins right now.

Let’s just hope it doesn’t kill her!

Brain, stop. Now.

Pfft... spoilsport.

“I simply put a few magical filters in the tunnels over there.” Pariah points his hoof at the tunnels on the walls that are still gushing clean water. “To keep it from overflowin’, there’s a tunnel that’s level with the platform: it helps regulate the water system in the city.”

“So, Canterlot’s dirty sewage gets pure again through here, and is drinking water again?” Fleur asks in slight disgust.

“Er, in a sense.” Pariah enters the tent and calls, “‘Ey! Osiris! Mercutio! We got company!”

We walked inside the tent, and our jaws drop. The interior reminds me so much of Echo’s Shagwagon... but so much bigger. The inside is about half the size of a soccer stadium, the floor riddled with different metals and gems. The smell of burning incense candles reaches my nostrils, which gladly welcome the new smell and dispose of the smell of sewage. A large square worktable is placed in the center of the monolithic tent, the surface also littered with blueprints and materials. Resting in beanbag chairs are two indiscernible shapes. But when I get closer, the two shapes are depicted to be a griffin and a Diamond Dog.

The griffin has a dusky tan lion body, with a white feathery torso and head, and large wings folded on his side. There is an icy-blue pattern on his chest that looks like a thin crescent moon, the open end facing up. The feathers on his head that would make up his proverbial hair is slicked back, with four feathers, tipped icy-blue as well, jutting out slightly on the back of his head. The feathers around his eyes, also the same color as his chest sigil and feather tips, are styled like Gilda’s, yet there is only one prong point away from his emerald eyes rather than three. He has a black, shiny composite bow on his side, but no quiver of arrows. The bow has two white glowing stones, though.

Perhaps it has magic...?

The Diamond Dog is one of the large bulky ones with , like that one D-Dog in that episode when Rarity had been captured by them: Season 1, Episode 19: “A Dog and Pony Show”. He has all-yellow eyes with black dagger-like pupils. He wears a sleeveless gray hoodie over his dusty-blue fur. He has long lanky arms that are rippling with muscles. Behind his beanbag chair is a massive steel warhammer, the square ends decorated with sharp spikes.

“That there’s Osiris.” Pariah points at the griffin, who waves. “And that’s Mercutio.” The hoof points to the Diamond Dog, who nods and smiles before facing forward. The two were playing with a pack of cards, and judging by the look of annoyance on Mercutio’s face, Osiris is handing his fluffy canine ass to him.

“How’re the sales, boss?” With a deep voice that would rival the manliest black guy, Osiris asks Pariah that question, throwing down another card onto a small cardboard box that served as their game table. Mercutio growls in frustration, before throwing down another card.

"Yeah." Mercutio's voice was also deep, but gravelly and rough, like he had been gargling thumbtacks and marbles. "Anything good?"

“Meh, not too bad, honestly.” Pariah stops at the worktable, examining the blueprints and whatnot that litters its surface. He does this for about ten seconds before he turns around. “I can help you with your whole problem, er...” He pauses for a second. “I’m sorry, I’ve never gotten your names.”

“I’m Damien,” I start, “th’ pink-maned unicorn is Fleur De Lis, th’ blue-maned unicorn is Fancypants, an’ th’ tall cat-like creature is a Bast, named Kaileena.”

“Damien, eh?” Pariah chuckles a bit before continuing: “I can lend ya a hoof in your whole prosthetic situation. And it won’t cost you a Bit!”

I sigh in relief: I’m already dirt-poor, and I don’t think either Fancypants or Fleur should pay for it: they've done enough.

“However... it’ll have to cost ya something else,” Pariah finishes.

“So... an alternate form o’ payment?” I inquire.

“Correct.” Pariah begins pacing back and forth as he launches into our “mission”. “That tunnel that regulates all the water? Well, there are other tunnels that link to that one, like some enormous labyrinth. Inside this labyrinth is a rare stone. So rare, that the Princesses would do anything to get it if they heard about it! The stone is called an ‘Atlamillia.’”

“Atlamillia?” Kaileena questioned.

‘Uh-oh! Dark Cloud series reference!’

Brain, enough!

“Yes. Atlamillias are incredibly powerful minerals, capable of actually bending the very fabric of time and space itself. There have been tons of rumors amongst the underground about a huge suppository of these stones existing here, in that underground water channel. If harnessed right, you could travel to any time and any place in the past and the future at will!”

“What if this... ‘Atlamillia’... fell into the wrong hooves?” Fancypants inquires.

“If that happens...” Pariah begins dramatically.

“If that happens...?” Fleur De Lis says punctually.

“Just pretend it won’t happen, will ya?”

“What?!” The four of us blurt out.

“Hang on... why d’ya want this ‘Atlamillia’ in th’ first place?” I ask.

Pariah ‘grabs’ me by my shoulders and shakes me furiously. “So that I can be filthy bucking rich, of course!” He screams crazily.

“Point taken,” I say dizzily. I shake my head of the dizziness. “So ya want us ta go down there an’ get it fer ya?”

“Yep!” Pariah answers before chugging more of his green slime.

“Alrighty, then... just gimme a moment ta think.”

“Sure, sure. Take as much time as you need.”

“Thanks.” I sit down and mull it over. On one hand, it seems like a rather good idea, especially if Pariah might hike up the price while we’re gone, and since neither Fleur nor Fancypants have an infinite amount of Bits, this would do well.

So:

Step 1: Go in the tunnel.

Step 2: Find Atlamillia.

Step 3: Get out.

Step 4: Disregard women, acquire new arm.

Step 5: ???

Step 6: Profit.

Sounds nice and easy, right?

Wrong.

I must also take the downfalls of this mission into consideration. There are probably all sorts of weird creatures scattered throughout the underground water channel. I can’t really use my scythe as well as before, and while I understand Kaileena is a good fighter, I don’t want her to overexert herself fighting all of the monsters for us. Hell, I’m not sure if either Fancypants or Fleur are skilled in fighting, or have even been in a scuffle.

Damn... the factors are all balanced out, the pros clashing hideously with the cons until the two have reached a hard-to-shatter stalemate.

“I don’t know...” I murmur, rubbing my left arm with my right hand in worry. “It sounds like a pretty risky thing.”

“Well, that’s fine,” Pariah says, his mood darkening slightly. “So you just wanna pay for this with your own money?”

“Yes, please,” Fancypants says, a smattering of nervousness in his voice. Sounds like he doesn’t wanna go into the underground water channel, either.

“7500 Bits, then.”

The effect is instantaneous.

Fleur and Fancypants both go slack-jawed at the astromonical price; Kaileena, who was distracted by a firefly lamp, goes wide-eyed and turns her head so quickly that she almost gets whiplash; Osiris and Mercutio snicker like idiots as I, in a fit of curiosity, sample some of the green slime that Pariah takes joy in, but spit it out in a shower of emerald goop.

And it wasn’t just the news that made me do it.

“Ergh, that’s fuckin’ nasty, lad!” I complain. No, really: that thing tastes like someone rubbed a moldy pizza and rotting meat on their sweaty nuts, then liquidated it with chunky expired milk.

...Too much?

I put the mug down and start rubbing my tongue with my right hand to rid it of the horrendous aftertaste; the left one would probably give me a splinter.

“Really?” Pariah asks as he chugs his slime like it was the nectar of the gods. “Huh... guess it ain’t for everypony.”

“Actually, Pariah...” I begin, before stopping to take a breath and this last thing through. Accept offer, and claim great treasure at the cost of coming across danger; decline offer, and have to work for the money, even though we’re wanted by the Royal Guard.

Decisions, decisions...

Finally, after so much thinking and planning, I say three words that seal the deal.

“I’ll do it.”

XXI - A Hop, Skip, And A Jump!... Through Time!

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXI - A Hop, Skip, And A Jump!... Through Time!

Most people think time is like a river, that flows swift and sure in one direction. Let them think that all they want. They haven’t seen the face of time like I have. I’ve seen it... and let me tell you that... they are wrong.

You may wonder why I say this about Time, but believe me when I say that I have good reason: stick around and you’ll find out why.

Time is an ocean in a storm, much like the maelstrom Zeus cursed Odysseus with after the latter’s crew devoured a week’s worth of the cattle of the sun god, Helios. And why the fuck did Odysseus crew eat all those cattle when they had perfectly good food on their ship?

...

I’m goin’ off on a tangent, aren’t I?

I think it’s these noxious fumes of the underground sewer system getting to me. This just goes to show you that I hate sewers, not just because of the stench, but because of the disgusting atmosphere and terrible waste that is proof that people - or ponies, in this case - are inept at being clean and hygienic.

...But then again, it’s the sewers. I shouldn’t even expect a place like this to smell like daisies and lollipops.

...Er, moving on.

Against all other wills but my own, me, Kaileena, Fancypants, Fleur De Lis, Osiris, and Mercutio trek through the underground water channel for the Atlamillia stones. And in the early morning, no less. At least... I think it’s morning.

Oh! Why are Osiris and Mercutio with us, you ask?

Pariah thought that we would need assistance for our ‘Prissy-ponies, two-legged-cat-thing, Bat-winged-dodo-legged-freak-of-nature’ group.

...

I don’t really regret clocking Pariah in the face with my wooden arm for saying that. Sure, he got mad as hell and tried to beat me to death with his created prosthetic limbs, but eh, what was to be expected? He had it coming.

Regardless. The channel is an unrelenting series of twists and turns, making this supposed-to-be simple mission much more complex than I had suspected. we constantly have to cast mnemonic glances wherever we go, in case we don’t get lost.

“How much farther?” whines Fleur. “My hooves are killing me!”

“We’ve been walking for five minutes,” deadpans Mercutio. He goes back to scanning the map of the channel fervently for our location. Osiris, with bow drawn, hovers behind him at a slow pace to keep with our own. I grip Ellipsis as tightly as my fingers could allow, while Kaileena curls her fingers around her giant khopesh sword.

“Oh.” Fleur remains silent after that. We continue to travel through this underground labyrinth, with the Diamond Dog’s navigation skills (or lack thereof) guiding us through the tunnels. Other than the occasional rat or snake, there are no other signs of animate life.

...Time to kill... well, time.

“Say, Osiris, Mercutio,” I begin, “why are th’ two o’ ya paired up with that Pariah guy, anyways?

A very pregnant pause spreads through the atmosphere like artificial warmth through an electric blanket. Osiris and Mercutio look around awkwardly, probably trying to find the words to answer the question I asked of them.

“Psst!” Kaileena mouths to me. “I think you may have touched a nerve.”

Once I get the gist of what she was mouthing at me, I nod and return with an “I think so, too.”

“Well...” Osiris finally says, his very deep black voice sending bizarre shivers down my spine; Guy has a voice that’s more baritone and shiver-creating than Samuel L. Jackson’s. “It’s a long story. Are you sure you’re up for it, snowflakes?”

“We’ve all got time before we reach the Atlamillia,” Fancypants says with his trademark smile before adjusting his monocle with his magic. “It wouldn’t be too much of a hindrance to inform us of who you two are, correct?”

The Diamond Dog and griffin look at each other one last time before the latter cleared his throat. “I’ll go first, I guess,” Osiris begins. “It probably all started when I was just a child, maybe eight or nine. My parents and I were teaching me how to hunt on my birthday. We had just caught this really nice elk for our supper when an array of paws shot out from the ground and pulled us all under. Before long, we became enslaved by Diamond Dogs.”

Mercutio’s ears bent down in shame (at least, I think so) as Osiris proceeded with his story. “For years, we had been working in the mines of the Dogs, gathering gems for the dragon that they worked for so that they wouldn’t be eaten... and so that we wouldn’t be eaten either. The working conditions were terrible: there was no fresh air, no sunlight, nothing. We had food and drink that were edible, but just barely.

“My mother died down there from dehydration and this disease known as rustlung.”

“Rustlung?” I inquire, the reference to the Gears of War game catching my eye. In case none of you know already, rustlung is a condition brought on by the inhalation of Imulsion vapour and is the first stage of Lambency in humans. According to the game and the Gears of War Wikipedia page, it was first documented 100 years ago at New Hope but became widespread among the human population of Sera a few months after the initial detonation of the Lightmass Bomb, which vaporized much of the liquid Imulsion beneath the planet's surface.

The disease infected many Gears (Including Echo-Nine) and Stranded alike. The disease likely got its name from the liquid that is coughed up or vomited, the liquid retaining a shade of brown the color of rust. Its symptoms include brown and red phlegm, vomiting, having trouble breathing, and coughing. The COG administration covered up the effects of rustlung out of fear of the real health risks becoming known. During the Lambent Pandemic, rustlung began to spread rapidly in Mercy and other locations near Imulsion, and a new form of Lambent human emerged - the first known cases of Lambency in humans since the early Pendulum Wars.

...I play way too many video games. But I digress.

“Yes,” Mercutio explains in his rather gravelly voice. The more he talks, the more I discover he speaks broken Equestrian. “Very horrible disease. Unless you are Diamond Dog, or you are used to harsh environments of mines, then you stand no chance.”

“Correct,” Osiris continues; “she died with a week or two after she was diagnosed with it by one of the former pony doctors there. My dad followed her shortly after, about a month later. We had raked in an insufficient amount of gems for the dragon they worked for, so the Alpha had to choose which of us to toss to the dragon as a way to save their hides. He chose my father, and the Alpha, who knew I was the son of the one he chose to sacrifice to that scaly beast, made me watch my own dad get eaten.”

Osiris stops his flying and commences walking with us, a mix between a melancholic and an enraged expression smearing his fact. But with a smile, be it genuine or forced, he presses on.

“Fortunately, some of the prisoners - griffins, ponies, zebras, and Diamond Dogs alike - started this huge riot against the wardens of the mines. We overpowered them and made our great escape. The first time I saw fresh air, I almost cried. The first time I tasted real, delicious food and water, and not that gross sloppy gruel and hard bread the Dogs tossed us, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

“A few weeks later, me and the escapees dispersed and started travelling around Equestria, getting acquainted with the towns and cities that dotted it. I’ve been to Stalliongrad, Bitsburg, Whinnysota, Denfur; even went down into the deserts below the rainforest on the map and saw Hoofghanistan and Saddle Arabia. I also occasionally ran into a few of the ex-prisoners on my journey. Eventually, my travels took me to Canterlot, but at a terrible moment: I had no money to buy food, nor any means to protect myself.” Osiris’s expression hardens again. “And none of those posh and snobby ponies above us bothered to even lift a hoof to help me, for fear of dirtying it.” Fleur De Lis and Fancypants simultaneously raise a brow at the words. “I thought I was going to die....

“But that’s where I met True Pariah. He saw me on a winter’s evening one day and decided to hook me up with some work. Being the Puppet Master he is, he made an innumerable amount of Bits for his hard work. He gave me food, a place to sleep, and other stuff. I’m forever in his debt for saving my life ever since,” the griffin finishes.

“Goodness,” Fancypants mutters. “That must have been a horrible past to relive with us.”

“Indeed it was...” Osiris looks up, with a bit of a mischievous grin on his beak. “But what’s past is past. It’s time to keep moving on.”

“Alright, then,” Kaileena says. “Mercutio, it’s your turn now, I guess.”

“Okay,” the Diamond Dog says. “I think it started back when I was just teenager, when we were in mines to look for gems to give to dragon. Hours spent mining, from day to night. A few Dogs and prisoners caught Rustlung, but other than that, we met our crite-.. or creti-”

"Criteria?” I suggest.

“Yes, that,” Mercutio says. “We met criteria every month. Except for one day, on birthday where I become actual male, we fail to meet... criteria. Dad, Alpha of pack, tried to sacrifice sister, Maruka.”

“Hold on,” I say, slightly befuddled. “If your name is Mercutio, why is your sister’s name Maruka?”

“I asked Pariah to change name. Used to be ‘Koroz’,” he explains.

“Same for me,” Osiris says. “Mine used to be... Gregor....”

"What was that?" I ask, his name being said so silently, I thought I was going deaf.

"I said, my name used to be Gregor...."

"One more time, laddy?"

"MY NAME WAS GREGOR!" He quickly blurts out, like he's too embarrassed of it.

“Ah.” I nod in comprehension, while I give more mnemonic glances to my surroundings to ensure that we aren't going in circles. “Proceed”.

“When Father said he would sacrifice Maruka, I put my paw down. Said to him that it was wrong, or that we could run away. He wouldn't listen. The Dogs took her away that day.”

I pat Mercutio on the back; I know what it’s like to lose a sibling, after all, but to lose a sibling by the hand of your own parent? That was something that couldn’t even be punishable by death. The parent would forever be the worst ungeziefer: vermin that shouldn’t even be blessed with death.

“After that day, I no sleep; I no eat; I no even work! Later on, Father removed me from pack; said he was too disgusted and disappointed to be father of me. Hopped from place to place, looking for work. But in the end, sadly, it no work out. Always got fired for hurtful or silly reasons; worst one being Diamond Dog.

“Later on, I met Osiris and True Pariah. Pariah give me work, food, and place to live with him in sewers. It flood sometimes, but it’s very nice. I am also in debt to Pariah.”

“That’s awful, lad,” I say in comfort.

“It not too bad. Got over it after a few months of working with Pariah and Osiris.”

“Hang on,” Fleur De Lis interjected. “We know next to nothing about you, Damien.”

I gulp. I wasn’t good at telling stories in general. Cinderella? Watch me fuck that story up. Goldilocks and the Three Bears? Hell, I’ll probably talk like Ice Cube when I’m telling that story. And my life story was definitely not the best thing to speak of.

‘Speaking of Goldilocks and the Three Bears...’

Brain... no.

‘“Daaaamn! Who in the fuck sits in THIS chair: Buddha!? Do the goddamn contestants of “The Biggest Loser” live up in this bitch?!”’

Brain, stop before you hurt yourself.

‘“I mean, shit! This chair’s so huge, I thought it was a nursing home for Oompa-Loompas!”’

That’s it! You’re shutting off now!

What? No! I don't wanna!’

Well, that's just too fucking bad, ain't it?!

...

Ah... sweet mental silence... but why do I feel like my IQ dropped by approximately twenty points?

...Eh. Probably nothing.

“But I dunno where ta start,” I admit. “My life’s been, ta say th' least, rather bad.”

“Start like how they started: at the beginning, at your childhood,” suggests Kaileena.

I try looking for a way out of it: bathroom break? Nah, they’d remember afterwards. I forgot something back at the rendezvous point? No, I brought everything in my backpack, which I’m carrying on my back right now! Er... how about breakfast? No, we already ate breakfast: WHICH WAS MORE GREEN FUCKIN’ SLIME! GAAAAAH!

...

After several moments of curious glaring from everyone, I sigh in defeat, unable to find a tolerable excuse.

Yep, I’m boned.

“Very well,” I say. “It probably started when I was also a kid. I had a family, much like all o’ ya, consistin’ o’ a brother an’ parents. I lived in a far off country to th’ east called Ireland, an’ it was probably th’ most incredible place I’ve ever been. Green pastures, kind people, amazing food. But when me brother was four, an’ I was nine, me father was shot and killed outside a public market while buying food for our dinner.

“Sensin’ Ireland wasn’t a safe place fer me an’ my brother Daniel ta live, me mam decided ta take us to America. She had heard rumors about it bein’ great, so she told us ta pack our bags. So we did as we were told an’ booked it towards th’ nearest airplane.”

“And what, pray tell, is this airplane you speak of?” Fancypants asks.

“An airplane is this giant aircraft made o’ metal. It’s shaped like a bird, an’ it flies at great speeds,” I explain briefly. “Anyways, since Dad died, we couldn’t make any money, and he had no life insurance, thus leavin’ us with not enough ta buy tickets fer th’ airplane ride. So... we hid in compartments where the wheels of the plane retract into the plane. It was so cold... I thought I was gonna die. I never held onto me brother tighter than in that moment.

“But finally, after th’ fourteen hours over a huge ocean and hundreds o’ thousands o’ miles o’ travelling were over, we all tumbled onto the warm American concrete, just happy ta be alive. Instead o’ returning us back ta our home country, they took us ta our Auntie Eliza, who was retired an’ livin’ in Colorado.” I think the ponified form of that state is Coltorado... but I don’t plan on using pony-speak anytime soon: I’ve honed my own grammatical, lexical, and syntactic abilities far too well to speak like other Equestrians. “She was th’ sweetest woman alive, I tell ya. She let us stay at her retirement home fer a while till our mam could find some work.

“Unfortunately, she chose the wrong career.

“Late one night, about a month after we had rustled up enough money ta actually afford an apartment up in Fort Collins, I found out that our mam had been a prostitute ta scrounge up rent an’ our weekly allowance. I felt bad fer her, seein’ her sell herself to countless people while we’re asleep. It was terrible.

“Eventually, it got worse. Much worse.

“Mother started turnin’ to drugs fer comfort. She slowly fell in disrepair, to the point where she couldn’t be helped. Eventually, she started abusin’ us every day, be it beatins’, threats, or other torture. Four years later, when me brother was thirteen, me mam found out about him being... well, gay... and she just... lost it. She started beatin’ him mercilessly, calling him ‘devil lover’ an’ ‘disgustin’ faggot.’ I begged her ta stop, but she wouldn’t listen. She started beatin’ me as well. Fer th’ second time o’ me life, I thought I was gonna die. Our neighbors heard th’ commotion an’ called th’ police. Within days, me an’ Daniel were removed from her custody.”

I sigh, my fury slowly turning from a low simmer to an increasingly hot boil. “And I’ve hated her ever since.

“I got me own apartment in Boulder, near th’ university I was attendin’, while Daniel stayed with our Auntie Eliza. He came over every weekend an’ holiday, though, an’ every time I had never been happy. Hell, he even had a lover o’ his, named George. Sweet guy, really helpful with machines and whatnot. Ya oughta meet him sometime.

“But anyways, the other things oppressin’ me and Daniel besides me mother were th’ people in Colorado. They were... to say the least, awful. I kid ya not. It felt like as I got older and wiser, more and more people started hatin’ us. Some sent us death threats; some poked fun at us fer bein’ from another country; some even started attackin’ us.”

Right as we turn the corner to the right, I pull Ellipsis out of the Abyss, and it appears in my right hand in a flash of light. All but Kaileena gasp or appear surprised. “Forma Versus,” I say, returning to my human form. I live up my hoodie and T-shirt to reveal the... I believe sixty or so scars that desecrated my torso and arms. More gasps are elicited from the others at the grotesque sight. “Three-fifths o’ these’re from me mam, an’ th’ other two-fifths’re from th’ bullies.” I pull my shirt back down, say “Reverti” to return to my Devil Imp form. “In order ta escape from th’ reality o’ life, I indulged meself in games and music, be it creatin’ ‘em, or usin’ ‘em.

“Now, fast forward four more years. I was twenty-two, Daniel was seventeen. I was takin’ a summer collegiate program ta help improve me curricular status at me university, an’ I had made, at most, two friends. All of a sudden, I got in, yet again, another fight that I didn’t want ta be a part o’. But this time, I just... fought back... an’ won!” I chuckled a bit at my luck. “I dunno how, but... I actually did something for meself. Call it luck or hidden potential, I don’t care. It was just ... so invigoratin’. I never felt so alive than in that moment.

“Sadly, someone o’ th’ highest authority, me dean o’ th’ school, took me into her office fer what I’d done. I thought I was gonna be in trouble fer a second there, but she saw me stand up fer meself. She offered me somethin’ I never thought possible - a chance to go to Equestria.

“I accepted without hesitation. I thought o’ no one at all when I accepted th’ offer. So she was true ta her word an’ sent me here, in this form. A few days later, however, I receive news of me brother... commitin’ suicide. It was because someone was bullyin’ until he just... gave up on life. Call it a shot in th’ dark, but I feel like I know who’s responsible fer it all.” I turn around, and grimace. Kaileena has a few tears in her eye, the two white unicorns just look down in sadness, and the griffin and Diamond Dog had a look of sympathy for me on them.

“That’s... that’s so awful,” Kaileena whispers, wiping her eyes.

“Eh. I’m alive, ain’t I?” I say.

“But how could you stay so cheery after all that?” the Bast asks. “I’d have lost it if it were me.”

“Keep moving forward,” I utter briefly.

“What?” They all ask in confusion as we take a left.

“In this film I watched, a boy genius an’ inventor travels ta th’ future with what I found out ta be his future son. Th’ boy from th’ past created a motto whenever his creations failed him: “keep moving forward”. Basically, if you linger on th’ past and what had happened, then how in the hell will you progress to the future? Moreover, how th’ hell can you even enjoy the present yer livin’ in?”

“But what about these bullies of yours?” Osiris asks. “What are you gonna do when you see them?”

Once again, my rage starts to well up again. I exhale to calm my anger. “I’m gonna kill ‘em.”

“What?” Fleur exclaims in shock. “You can’t do that!”

“What’s stoppin' me?” I spit vehemently as I turn around to look her in the eyes. She retracts slightly at my faint anger. “When the world pushes ya around, yer expected ta take it. But when ya push back, ya know what th’ world does? It points back an’ cries, ‘evil.’” I turn around again and strut agitatedly some more down the walkway. “I’m sick and fuckin' tired o’ sittin’ around an' takin' me licks. It's time I do something.”

I stop when I see a very dim light emanating from the tunnel on our right. “Is that what I think it is?” I say in... slight joy?

...Oh fan-bloody-tastic, I'm bipolar.

“Looks like it!” Mercutio says in equal excitement. “C’mon, everyone!” We start sprinting to the antechamber where the Atlamillia could possibly lay. When we finally reach the antechamber, we freeze in shock and awe.

We enter what looks like a giant pumping room. Large pumps the size of duplex homes line the stone walls of the room, which is about half the size of a baseball diamond field. These pumps must also be responsible for the immaculate water feeding Equestrian cities. Sitting smack dab in the middle of the room was this boulder of a rock. The rock was shining iridescently, like it was glass and filled with lava lamp-like rainbows.

“Hoo boy!” Osiris exclaims with a devilish grin. “Boss is gonna be happy to see this!”

“Is that the Atlamillia?” I say incredulously. There’s just no way in hell that a stone to travel through time and space can be that big!

“Yes!” Mercutio concurs. “Come on! Let’s get Atlamillia and leave!”

We make our way down the large stairs towards the floor where the large boulder lay. I go to place my hand on it, but stop when I feel the extreme warmth emanating from the Atlamillia. It’s like there’s a fire in there as well.

“How’re we gonna get this thing up to Pariah?” Kaileena inquires. The thing also looks like it weighs a ton!

“I haven’t the foggiest,” confesses Fancypants. We could lift it up with our magic, yet it would appear to be too big to fit through the channel tunnels.”

I look at the scythe in my hand, then at the Atlamillia boulder, then back at my scythe.

Ideeeaaaa~!

Why not cut it down into smaller chunks?

“I think I know how ta handle this!” I say, raising Ellipsis up high and giving the Atlamillia a swing.

“NO, WAIT, DON’T!”

*CLANK!*

At the force of my impact, the Atlamillia starts glowing the brightest of colors at a level so strong that it nearly blinds us. Before I know it, I feel my body leave the ground and travel at ridiculous speeds. I’m surprised I’m not reduced to mere giblets at the gravitational force I was undergoing. My insides were churning and writhing like they had been replaced by snakes. I opened my eyes and saw this... massive tunnel I was falling at terminal velocity in. Judging by the screams that echo all around me, the others were also sucked in, and against their own will, too.

In order to get a better idea of what I mean when I say “massive tunnel”, imagine the respawn process you go through when you die in Borderlands 2, or when Jak, Daxter, Keira, and Samos fall that Precursor gate in the prologue cutscene in Jak 2.

“Oh shit!” I yell in a panicked voice. Despite how hard I beat my wings, I can’t fight the everlasting current of this vortex I’m in. “Where are we going?!”

‘THERE ARE NO BRAKES ON THIS RAPE TRAIN OF TIME. I REPEAT, THERE ARE NO BRAKES ON THIS RAPE TRAIN OF TIME. EVACUATION IS FUTILE. IT'S TIME TO KISS OUR ASSES GOOD-BYE.’

...Aaaand my brain’s back on again. Now I have something to annoy me while I fall to what could be my death.

“It’s not just a matter of ‘where’, my boy!” Fancypants bellows back. “It’s more a matter of ‘when’!”

“You mean we’re going to the future?!” Fleur asks.

“Or the past!” Osiris corrects. Just as he says that, the end of the tunnel starts to manifest itself as a strange white light. “The time and location are just randomized, so we don’t know what’s gonna happen!”

“Either way, brace yourselves!” Mercutio roars.

“Everybody hold on!” Kaileena screams just as we exit the tunnel.

The second I leave the vortex we entered, I feel my body drained of its vitality like salt in snow, my now-insipid body refusing to do anything as it plummet headfirst towards the ground of some unknown location from leagues up above. The land is black and dirty brown soil, sparse trees, and a few volcanoes dotting the area. Through heavy lids, I look at my companions, and see that they have this... weird blue aura around them, and it appears like meteorites entering the atmosphere. I look closer, and see that they are all rendered unconscious.

At least... that’s what I think they look like. I can’t tell, since I soon go out like a light as well.

Damn... Once again, my idiocy kills us all....

Guys... I'm sorry... I never meant for this to happen....

XXIII - Domain Of The Deity

Shadow: This first 1090 words are from Glassed's old blog post. Go check him out! That guy is just... awesome.

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXIII - Domain Of The Deity

What is it to be a man? And how can we achieve this goal of obtaining what we as a group call “manliness”?

We can't simply talk about societal pressures, we have to look at what it feels like to be that boy, that man. How you are treated, the psychological progression from "ok" to "frustrated" to "anger" to "desperate", how you necessarily have to internalise your problems, how you are set up in life only to fall through the gaping hole that is called "the male ego" and then to be ridiculed for being so naive as to want to express yourself.

You know how you feel pressure to look good and dress nicely. You feel that everyday, no one tells you but everyone is looking and you feel those eyes on you. You can't help but notice that everyone notices. It's ingrained into society, it's accepted, you don't even realise it's there because it's omnipresent. Like air.

The same thing exists with "be a man". No one wants to hear how hard you have it, your problems or your emotions. "Man up" echos everywhere, silently, implicitly. At first an innocent term of motivation, now an ironically desperate attempt to demonstrate masculinity. The term is so confused it is now used to claim opposing behaviors as manly. A real man doesn't cry - A real man cries. Can you imagine hearing someone say "A real woman drinks margaritas"? There is an uneasiness around being a man these days because no one knows what it means anymore.

The worst part about these struggles is how everyone seems to be ok with it. There is no visible group advocating for a balanced masculinity or an open discussion on male identity. Male problems aren't even on the radar. If you don't ask for help what do you do? You do the only thing you can do, you internalise your pain, you ignore it and it grows silently. Who is going to help you through this? Is there anything more terrifying to society than a man who needs help? Have you ever seen a grown man cry in public? It's unsettling.

You're too ashamed and simultaneously too proud to ask for help. Asking for help means you aren't "manning up" like everything in culture silently tells you to do. And so everything that isn't addressed becomes that dark beast inside you, lurking at the edges. You become so out of touch with your emotions it's a surprise when you're actually happy, like it's an accident. A childish glee of a once happy childhood being crushed by your everyday repressed identity. You lose all sense of proportion. Drugs, alcohol, depression, fighting and other self-destructive behavior show up. At least self-erasure makes sense, at least you can control the rate of your descent. A joyous self-annihilation, like watching your own car crash in slow motion from far away, simultaneously inside the car and outside it. A symbolic interpretation of reality. This is in fact your true position in all this, your emotional self is a 1000 miles away observing this scene with equanimity, your actual self speeding into a brick wall.

Your friends have long since stopped caring, ignoring all the warning signs, some may reach out but you're too far gone for kind words or formal gestures. You're desperate and angry. You become fully desensitised and ignore your emotions, seeing them as obstacles. You are now a man "at war" with himself, the motto of this war is "take no prisoners". You snuff out feelings, you do this once and it makes things easier and then again, and again, and again, you're on your way down that desolate road. It becomes a comical routine, your patheticness is a joke even to yourself. You've lost all sense of reality, you're walking down that road of quiet desperation. Every man that's been told to "man up" knows what I'm talking about. Every man that doesn't get lucky or ask for help in time ends up in the same place, in the gutter. Alone, cold and forgotten. Homeless both in reality and spiritually.

The old male roles are dying, if not dead. They continue to subsist in obscurity, as an afterthought or a punchline to a joke that provokes uneasy laughter. Young men continue on in the empty space left by these non-roles, without guidance or any solid concept or understanding of themselves or their masculine identity. Education doesn't worry about boys, they've always been fine on their own, right? Boys and young men have a much different kind of education, a negative education. They are not told that their normal selves are good, fine and valuable, that being energetic, spontaneous and loud is a good thing, no, they are simply told what they can't do. Sit down, shut up, stop interrupting, if you can't control yourself we're going to see the principle, we'll call your parents, we're going to ridicule you. And so they grow up literally clueless, looking to social cues, formal structures and hyper-male caricatures for help. We all know these clueless young men, we all know how bleak a future they have, we ignore it, they ignore it, video games are always fun, right? What a heartbreaking story of normal everyday occurrence. Our sons, our brothers, our fathers pretending everything is fine, no one ever asks them: "Are you Ok?"

Summary: Masculinity is a deeply misunderstood concept, almost as if on purpose. Misunderstood by society as a whole, but also by women and, most offensively, by the men themselves. Everyone participates in this "good man" myth, completely unaware that there is no concept of a good man today, masculinity is an unknown which we can use and abuse as we see fit. Can you go a day without hearing something in the news about violence or war? Everyone knows those are male things, right?

The bottom line is everyone has a choice in how they treat boys and men, everyone can decide whether they should be treated as human beings or if they can "take it like a man". No one proposes what masculinity could be, no one seeks to glorify or worship it, no one speaks of the hidden potential of our young men today, no one dares to give it it's proper place in society. Male identity is a negative today, ridiculed, feared and marginalised.

What do men do in this climate? They do the only thing they can do, ignore all of it, live their owns lives, try to get by somehow, they "man up".

Then again, who am I to judge what being the alpha-male is and what it entails? I’ve always been the omega: sitting in last place and watching as all those after me go and do the work, while I sat back and did what? Nothing. I did nothing when my dad got shot, I did nothing when my mother started spiralling into narcotical and alcoholic disorder, I did nothing when she threatened to take my only little brother’s life, I did nothing.

And now this big... tree... this Ent... is facing me, looking down on me. It made me feel... nervous? Anxious? No... It may be friendly... but still... It makes me feel ever-so-slightly uncomfortable.

It was so... unnerving.

It’s funny, innit? How we all think we are indestructible, or invincible, until we see something bigger or stronger than us.

“...Damien?” Kaileena’s voice summoned me from my internal musing.

“Er, huh, what?” I shake my head to clear it.

“Tree thing asked you question.” Mercutio steps forward.

I grimace at the Diamond Dog's words. “Mercutio, please show some respect an’ not call him a tree thing. He’s an Ent.” I look up at the Ent and beat my wings, ascending ten, fifteen, twenty feet into the sky until me and the force of nature are at eye level. “How do you do?” I say, holding my hand out. “Me name’s Damien O’Connor. Nice ta meetcha.”

The Ent raises his hand and sticks out his finger, the process making the groaning and creaking noises that signified wood being shifted and moved. His finger was about the girth of the human body, so I had to wrap both my hands around his finger in order for our unusual handshake to be achieved. “Darwishi. Matsimela Darwishi. Nice to meet you, too, Damien O’Connor.” As I get a closer look at Matsimela (Let’s call him Mat, eh?), I see some more figs burrowed in his mop of hairlike branches. I even spotted a white hammock, void of any occupants, and several odd black shapes in his branches. The aforementioned shapes do not look like fruits. “So who are your friends?”

“I’m Kaileena,” the Bast says.

“Mercutio,” the Diamond Dog then responds.

“I’m Osiris,” the griffin says.

“My name is Fleur de Lis,” the female unicorn replies.

“And mine is Fancypants,” the male unicorn finishes.

“With that outta th’ way, I have a question I’d like to impose on ya meself.”

“Shoot.” Mat starts walking off, with me and my troupe following him.

“What’re ya doin’ out here in th’ middle o’ this emberstorm?” I fly around him a little bit to help rejuvenate whatever feeling in my wings that was lost on the collision.

“I had been stranded in this fiery wasteland, looking for a way to leave this place before I burned like a torch, when I saw these strange comets of blue light just hurtle towards the ground. Even worse, I heard a voice come out of them a moment later, shouting for something to “shut up”. That’s when I came over and saw you six.” Mat was examining the other five companions I had unintentionally dragged along with me. “That was you who shouted, I take it?” Mat turned his head to me, causing the odd black shapes to... twitch?

I nod, slightly embarrassed by what has happened. “Yeah... sorry ‘bout that.” I scratch the back of my head nervously.

“Don’t worry about it.”

I stop in mid-flight and get in a laid-back position, my hands behind my head. “How on earth are you able to fly like that?” Mat asks.

“What, with wings on me head?” I rebut, Mat’s nod confirming my slight suspicions.

“Y’know... I’ve been wondering that as well,” Fancypants comments. How have I been able to take flight while I have these appendages of ascension glued to my head? I mean, wouldn’t I be severely uncomfortable? Wouldn’t my neck snap or dislocate every time I pull a stunt? Shockingly, this is not the case: my predicament, while odd, is not displeasing. Actually, I quite like flying.

“...I really have no idea. Yet, so far, me neck hasn’t broken, an’ I’ve never been caused any discomfort other than o’erexertion.”

“Speaking of overexertion...” Fleur de Lis whines. “I’m tired~... Can we stop for a moment to recuperate?”

OH BOY, HERE WE GO AGAIN.

Ah, Brain, you’re back.

The one and only! Didja miss me?

...Hell to the no. The only thing I miss about you is that your absence. What in the world have you been smoking?

The best shit that this fleshy pink bastard can get his nonexistent hands on, that’s what.

...Oh, joy....

Aw, lighten up, you spoilsport!

“Oh, c’mon! We’ve been walking for, what, nine to ten minutes? Man- er, pony up, you pansy,” Kaileena scolds, thus causing Fleur to fire a death glare at the Bast.

“Well, you can ride in the hammock for a while, Fleur, until we get to where we need to be... or split up, for that matter.” Mat brushes his hair back with one hand, and the shapes start to quiver again. He lowers his other hand toward Fleur and puts the flat of his palm up. Fleur gets onto his palm, and Mat raises her to the hammock in his myriad of branches. Fleur, after inspecting the hammock - probably for any ‘dirty things’ - gets into the hammock and sighs. “Fancypants, care to join me?” She gives those eyelashes of hers a flutter, specifically towards the blue-maned unicorn.

“While that is kind of you, Fleur, I’m afraid I have to decline: I need the walking exercise, after all, no?” Fancypants adjusts his monocle once more with his magic. “And besides, it is Matsimela’s authority that I need if I wish to ride with you in the hammock, after all.”

“Please, call me Mat.” The Ent raises a hand and waves it, dismissing the idea of being given formalities.

So he prefers Mat, eh? Aha! Called it!

“Say, Mat... What... ‘re those?” I ask, raising a brow at them. “Those shapes in yer... hair?”

“...One: I think foliage works best; two: these are bats.” Almost at once, the bats that hung on his branches burst out from their shadowy canopies and zoom around us all. Some even start hovering around me. A tsunami of surprise rocks me when they swirl around us at high speeds like onyx sharks in an ocean. Actually, all of us are a bit shocked by the sudden appearance of these nocturnal flying beasts. But Fleur’s reaction, however...

“KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

...Is just soooo fucking cash. Seriously, she wails like a banshee getting violently tickled by an army of giant peacock feathers.

“Calm down!” Mat leers at Fleur in agitation at Fleur’s screaming.

“Ow, me ears,” I say after my laughter-fest subsides, digging my pinkie fingers into ears and twisting until my sense of hearing is restored to normal. “So why do ya have those bats?”

“Honestly, these bats decided to take shelter in my foliage a while back. I couldn’t exactly get them out, so I just let them stay in here.” Mat looks left and right, then waves me over. I fly closer, but it’s not enough: Mat waves me over again, and I get closer, to the point where I could make out and distinguish every detail in the Ent’s skinlike bark. The Ent in question leans forward and whispers in my ears: “To be honest, I’ve even named some of them.”

...Okay, what?

I mean, I shouldn’t talk since I named my weapon Ellipsis, but still... ain’t that just a little weird?

“...Okay...” I say, slightly confused. I don’t want to hurt the guy’s feelings, so I continue with the conversation. “So, what’re their names?”

“Bats! Formation!” At his command, the bats flutter back to Mat’s now-raised arm, the flying mammals hanging upside-down. I quickly count them down and come up with a total of... what, a little less than fifty bats? Now, what Mat just did was pretty cool, but I’m not impressed just yet.

Boss, this mate is a little bit of a kook. Let’s ditch ‘em! my brain tells me as Mat starts naming his bats off at a rapid pace.

Oi, be nice, Brain! Besides, maybe he got lost or something.

So?! We’re lost, too! I want to get outta here!

Yeah, and I want a blowjob from Carmen Electra: what’s your fucking point?

...You win this round, you slick little bastard.

Of course I win this round. Now shut your face hole and let me think.

............Uh, boss?

What is it?! I told you to can it so that I can think straight!

I know, but... I wasn’t joking around when I said I wanted to get out of here: this place kinda gives me the creeps.

...How so?

I don’t know, but it’d be best to keep your guard up, because something in the back of me tells me that something wicked this way comes.

How can you be sure?

Just... trust me. Instinct is giving me this information.

The last time I trusted you, I got slapped by some woman at a bar for drunkenly groping her boobs....

Will you just trust me?!

Alright, fine!

Luckily, Mat is too immersed in his recalling the names of his bat friends to notice my spacing out. He is on the thirty-seventh bat or so, judging by how quick he was with renaming them and how they were ordered. Except for one, which hangs on my metallic arm. The lone bat folds its wings closed and shrouds itself from the others. I scratch him behind the ears, and - get this - it lets out a soft squee.

IT FUCKING SQUEE’D.

“D’awwww....” the others say as they look at the bat and me.

Sweet Lord, that is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

“Hey, where’s- Ah, there he is!” Mat looks around and spots the bat on my arm. “D’aww, it appears he likes you!”

“No kiddin’,” I say. I hover over to Mat’s outstretched arm, and the bat flies onto his arm and joins his brethren. With an upward swing of his arms, the bats fly off of his arms and go back into his foliage, resulting in Fleur screaming once more.

"GAH! MORE BATS! AWAY! GO! SHOO!"

"Damn it, quit screaming!" Mat told Fleur.

*RUMBLE RUMBLE*

A massive vibration resonates from beneath the feet of the others. But with the way it is getting closer... I can tell that it’s not a natural occurrence. Everyone on the ground stumbles from the sudden rumble. Osiris, being the only other flyer here, joins me in the skies. "You feel that?" He pulls his bowstring tight, and a light arrow coalesces on the bow.

"Mm-hmm." I stick my hand out, and summon Ellipsis out of the Abyss and into my grasp, the large scythe appearing in a flash. I remember last time I had gone into battle, the scythe had absorbed that acid worm's corrosive spit and had used it against it. I wonder if the effect still works....

Grabbing a feather from my left leg, I pluck it out with a wince and run it on the blade of Ellipsis. The feather is cut at the very instant the blade touches it, but it doesn't corrode.

Huh... maybe the acid powers were used up, or they wore off. Something like that.

*RUMBLE RUMBLE*

“What was that!?” Mercutio barks. Hehe... get it? ‘Cause he’s a dog and... Oh, shut up, I’m funny.

Boss, remember what I told ya?!

Yeah, yeah, I still remember.

The rumbling increases in both volume and proximity, and I feel as if the whole earth beneath me is bound to reach its climax and rupture. With a monstrous noise, and a deafening shifting of boulders and magma, something monolithically long jets forth from the volcano at my three o’clock. When it lands not forty metres from our position, I’m not sure whether to be disgusted or scared shitless.

Explaining this thing would be far too long, so I’m gonna show you what it looks like.

Yeah, he looks obese and gross, huh? But at the same time, its sheer size and awe-inspiring strength strikes fear in me like a nine-niner on a golf ball.

“I aM tHe MiGhTy SuN-DeVoUrInG sErPeNt, ThE aLl-PoWeRfUl DeItY aPeP,” the large reptilian monster, known as Apep, declares, his booming and slightly guttural demonic voice plowing my eardrums like engine pistons working overtime. “WhO aMoNg YoU hAd ThE aUdAcItY tO iNtRuDe UpOn My DoMaIn?”

Remember what I said about how we all think we are indestructible, or invincible, until we see something bigger or stronger than us? Yeah, this is one of those moments again.

“...........................................AW, FUCK!”

Author's Note

Urgh... so late.

Fuuuuuudge.

Thank God I managed to get this thing done. Sorry about your long wait, my pretties. Hope this is all to your liking. Oh, and since neither I nor MasterC (Matsimela Darwishi's Creator, who has written the fiction "Nature's Hand") have seen neither hide nor hair of either Oblivion Alarika or Dante_Hi nomori, we've decided to do this on our own.

XXIV - From the Inside Out

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXIV - From The Inside Out

What are human beings? Or, more simply, what are people in general?

I’m not looking for the typical answer you or I would respond with when presented with this seemingly simple question. What I mean to ask is, what are people really?

See, here is the thing: we, as people, “label” other people obvious things for obvious reasons: “liar” for those who deny people the truth, “bitch” for those who are insolent and demanding, “annoying” for those being clingy and downright obnoxious, “gay”, which instead of actually meaning to describe a homosexual person, is now being slung back and forth by immature, prepubescent teenagers, thinking that the word means “stupid” or “wrong”, instead of its actual meaning. So on and so forth.

You know: it’s how humanity bastardises the good things in life; why nothing can be sacred for long, or at all, for that matter.

But my philosophy that I’ve usually stuck with is that there are four kinds of people; four of these “labels”, per se. There are the followers, the leaders, the arbiters, and the rampants. The followers are the moving force of mankind; they are as essential to us as air and water. Then there are the leaders, who spearhead this force of mankind, focusing it on a goal, which the followers will reach like a honeybee to pollen. Then there are the arbiters, the free-thinking individuals that evolve and innovate the power of the whole; some followers and leaders usually disagree with the arbiters’ opinions, yet most still respect them and listen to them. Lastly, there are the rampants, those who indulge endlessly in their selfish needs, their pity and sorrow, and accept no help from their fellow men. They only exist to destroy themselves and those around them. The earlier three frown upon the tyrannical rampants, and wish to rid them from existence before vice versa occurs.

The rampants aren't powerless, however. Many have taken the forms of the leaders. They attempt to control everything for their own selfish needs by taking over the mind. Whether we realise it or not depends on the individual. One can only hope that the followers stop the false leaders, those that usurp the throne and desecrate the sacred power of it, and initiate leaders that use their power for good.

So, for those of you still bothering with what I’m saying, take heed this piece of advice: praise the followers, for they give us body; praise the leaders, for they give us mind; praise the arbiters, for they give us purpose; but be damned the rampants, for they are the self-sustaining darkness that destroys us.

Staring up at Apep and his horrifying physique and appearance, sticking to my so-called philosophy becomes harder and harder to achieve as if I were catching smoke with my bare hands, my brain manufacturing labels I more often than not abandon: labels such as “huge”, “terrifying”, “fearsome” ... “morbidly obese”, even; and, as I start risking quick glances out of my peripheral vision towards the others, I can see that their thoughts on this mammoth monster also go along the same lines as mine.

“I sHaLl AsK aGaIn... WhO dArEs To TrEsPaSs HeRe AnD dIsRuPt My SlUmBeR?!” Apep’s voice increases in decibels and lowers in pitch, the gravelly and horrific voice almost rupturing everyone’s eardrums. All of us cringe at the sheer volume and depth of his voice.

“If we tell you, will you please stop shouting?” Osiris digs a talon into his ear. Apep, in a blinding fit of rage, howls again, the force of his bellow almost blowing us off our feet, hooves, paws, claws, or in Mat’s case, roots.

“InSoLeNt CrEaTuRe! YoU sHaLl PaY DeArLy FoR yOuR dIsReSpEcT!” The giant reptile raises a giant clawed fist skyward, then proceeds to bring it down upon Osiris’s head.

“Osiris!” Mercutio hollers, sprinting to the griffin and tackling him out of the way of the attacking fist, which slams ferociously into the ground, leaving a relatively deep and wide crater only moments where the griffin had been only seconds before. “You OK?” He asks of him.

“I’m fine!” Osiris says, pushing the large charcoal Diamond Dog off of him. “Damn it, what do we do?!”

“I’m too young to die!” Fleur de Lis cries.

“I’m not, but I still don’t want to!” Fancypants says, gulping nervously.

“Relax, we’re not going to die!” Mat reassures the group, putting his hands up to add charisma to his words. “Trust me!”

“Mat’s right, guys,” I say, licking my chapped lips with worry. Fear is bubbling inside me like a vicious volcano. There’s no way we’d be able to take this guy, even with all of us giving our all. It’d just be suicide, since Apep was, as we know, is the sun-eating snake. Ra’s great enemy, if I recall. Compared to us, we’re just like little ants he could simply decimate without even batting an eyelash. “Just relax. We’re not gonna die.”

“Oh sure, let’s take your word for it, freak!” Osiris shouts, pupils contracted to pinpoints out of anger and anxiety.

“Freak? Says th’ filthy love child o’ Woody Woodpecker an’ Garfield.” Osiris, not having the foggiest by what I meant by that, charges at me nonetheless, understanding that I still insulted him. However, Mercutio holds him back. Mat is the only one who laughs, but he stops when Apep starts growling like a feral Doberman. The growl alone reluctantly brings my attention back to Apep. “Ah, right. I have a solution.”

“We really could use one right now,” Kaileena demands hurriedly.

With a nervous smile, I lick my lips again and take a deep breath. “RUUUUN!”

Yes, it seems cowardly to run away from a fight, but even I know when to back out of one that I can’t win. Besides, just because I’m stupid doesn’t mean I’m crazy.

Without warning, I start flying in the opposite direction, trying to get as much distance between me and Apep as possible. Looking behind me, I see Mat and my entourage trailing right behind me, a few of my friends wailing at the top of their lungs... with me being among them. “What are you doing?!” Kaileena shrieks.

“Runnin’ fer dear life!” Apep roars again and chases us down. I don’t dare look back, especially since doing so would skew my flight path due to my oddly-attached wings. But judging on how the noise was getting louder, I’d say he was catching up.

Oh God, I hear him running. I bet it looks hilarious!

Brain, now is not the time!

“Guys, we need ta find a way ta get ‘im off our asses!” I yell to the group. Apep does this... awkward, fat-kid version of a leap, and pounds his fist into the ground again, launching a vast squad of enormous boulders towards us. We split up in two directions to avoid the stony rain above us, the boulders plowing into the ground and shaking the earth viciously as we swerve and weave left and right to evade the stony harbingers of death.

“We need another plan!” Mat shouts as we regroup behind Apep, who swipes his large hands at the dust and debris to clear it, just to see if his attack ensured that we died. The Ent’s statement, however, makes the sun-devouring snake whip around and charge at us. He opens his serpentine maw wide and lurches forward, spewing forth a column of fire at us as if Dragonfyre resides in his lungs. We barely manage to escape the crimson and gold blaze that trails behind us, each one of us hiding behind the large boulders from earlier as the flames smash into the boulder. The temperature drastically increases, the heat causing me to sweat and the scythe in my hands to reach the heat levels of a bed of hot coals.

“Mat, think you can toss these boulders at him?” Kaileena shouts to the Ent, who was hiding behind a huge stack of rocks, once the flames from Apep die down and diminish.

“Of course!” Without a moment’s notice, Mat grasps the huge dark stones surrounding him with his wide hands, and heaves them up above his head before chucking them at Apep with vigour. “Have at ye, infernal lizard!”

“GRAAAAGH!” How lovely, he’s madder than all Hell.

I notice that with each big rock that strikes the monolithic serpent, Apep starts becoming just a bit more sluggish than prior each toss. Nut, can you explain why this is? I ask the sky deity that resides in my head.

'Sure. You see, Apep had just awoken from his everlasting slumber. Just awoken. He’s still groggy and weak due to his waking up early.'

So you’re telling me that if we fought Apep when he was already up and about, we wouldn’t even stand a chance?

'Yep. You’d have been nothing but ash and crushed bones within moments.'

...Oh joy. That’s rather comforting to hear. Thus, I tune out all that Nut had to say. I understand that she’d most likely chew me out for ignoring her, but right now, I care more about my life and the lives of my companions than anything else.

“Keep at it, Mat!” I grab Ellipsis as I rush forth and slash violently at Apep. The huge pieces of armour-like scales barely part for the ultimately-sharp scythe as the blade grafts small, but deep gashes into the monster’s hide. Apep lets out a wail of gorey rage as gold blood - ichor, I believe - gushes out from the wounds in thin streams.

“Show him what for, old bean!” Fancypants hollers at me. I go to remove my blade from the flesh, but am met with a complication.

Ellipsis is stuck.

Despite my best attempts, Ellipsis simply refused to move from its location on Apep's scaly carapace. "Shit!" Apep whirls his other head, or tail, at me, which proceeds to slam me in the chest with a fist, expelling the wind from my lungs and knocking me into the air, Ellipsis slipping out of my grasp. I try flapping my wings and regaining my breath, yet Apep plucks me out of the sky like God would an airplane before I even get the chance to regain my balance.

“RUN!” I screech, my lungs still void of the precious nectar of air.

“ArRoGaNt ImP!” Without warning, Apep brings me closer to his open mouth. “YoU wIlL pAy!” The last thing I hear is the forked tongue of the sun-eater and the screams of my friend. Before I know it...

I’m sliding down the guy’s throat, whole.

“Oh, shit!” Mat watches with a slack jaw at the sight of Damien being swallowed whole.

“DAMIEN!” Kaileena screams. Fleur De Lis, still up in the hammock of the Ent’s foliage, screams loudly and clambers down as quick as she could, fearing the snake would eat her and Mat in one bite. Fancypants rushes to the Bast’s aid as her legs take the solidity of gelatin and crumple beneath her. She places her face in her palms, not wishing to accept the reality of the event as the two alabaster ponies drag Kaileena behind a boulder and away from the fight.

Mat picks up another boulder in a fit of anger and launches it at Apep’s head, the large rock breaking into pieces on contact with the monster’s head. “Release him, fiend!” Apep snarls at Mat in a fit of rage. Mat lets out a low growl in retaliation as well as he heaves another boulder above his head.

“Do YoU wIsH tO DiE aS wElL, fOoL?!” An arrow composed of magic enters through Apep’s right eye and exits through the left, impairing both the windows to his malevolent and vile soul. He screams violently, looking around blindly for who would dare to assault him.

An airborne and scowling Osiris pulls back on the bowstring of his magical weapon, and another magical arrow coalesces and notches on the string. “Let him go!” He yells.

Mercutio below hefts his massive maul, the large warhammer just itching to pummel flesh. The Diamond Dog, maul high in the air, blasts forward, hammering the maul into the wounds that Damien had earlier inflicted, yet the scales toughness refuses to yield against the maul's might.

Apep’s commences to fight back as the onslaught continues. “PaThEtIc WhElPs!” Apep roars over the din of combat. “YoUr EfFoRtS aRe FuTiLe!” As much as they try, with Mat now bringing out a sword of his own into play due to the lack of rocks to chuck, they had to realise that Apep served a point. Despite the damage they’re dealing him, it is no use against the thick, hard, dragonlike scales of his. In order to deal more damage, they’d require either sharper weapons, or to attack from the inside.

And speaking of the inside....

Urgh... The inside of Apep is so much worse than the outside. It’s absolutely horrendous in here. The smell, the fleshy walls of his belly: I praise the Lord above that I wasn’t made to have claustrophobia. I was too large to fit into this place in my regular form, so I’m forced to shapeshift into my smaller blob form. The white puff of smoke and the weird alteration to my anatomy makes my transfiguration evident.

“Alright... Now I just have ta find a way out o’ here,” I muse in my high-pitched Irish brogue of a voice, using my vision to glance around me. The acidic liquid below me is mixed in with the glowing lava of a volcano, bubbling and letting off a putrid, blazing stink. Looking around, I see only two different-sized exits, which I’m sure lead to the heads. The jolting movements from Mat attacking Apep keeps rumbling into the bowels of the monster’s belly, disturbing the acid and lava amalgamation below me. The manifestation of the fiery corrosive drink below me blasts tsunami after unbearable tsunami of nausea into my small body, making me sick to my own stomach.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I have to get out. Now.

Zooming around, I take the wider of the two fleshy caves, working my way up through the esophagus of Apep’s larger head. I want to get out, but at the same time, this could be my chance. My scythe barely managed to get through the beast’s scales. If none of the others could attack it from the outside, I’ll have to finish him from the inside.

First, I have to locate the heart of this infernal thing.

I look around carefully, the diluted magma below letting off just enough light to give me vision. Scanning the walls of the gullet for a clue of where the heart is, I spot a redundant throbbing to my left. I grin maliciously as I take a breath and transfigure into my humanoid figure again. With my talons, I gash the pumping wall over and over again, more golden blood pouring into his throat.

“ROOOOOOOAOOAOAOAAOAOR!” The bellow of pain belting from Apep almost blows me out of his mouth, with my hanging onto the lip of the new gaping laceration I have created. Not yet, you fucker! I mentally berate.

I wriggle through the wound, and there it lays. The large, golden-red muscle, beating a bit more rapidly than before, pumping more ichor throughout the body. The space between the large rib cage and the heart, however, is very small and cramped: trying to recall Ellipsis will be next to impossible.

I need another method of taking this thing out....

I look around for something I could use to end the infernal muscle of this damn snake. I see my left hand, the way the gem glows like a lantern. I use my other hand to feel around for a button, a switch, anything that will help me. Something else happens, however, when I run a finger over the gem on my hand. I hear a clicking sound, such as what a simple dial would emit when turned. I look deeper into the gem’s light. A lightning bolt, resting atop a clenched fist, showed up in the light. I prod it with a finger, and the gem seems to... sink into the back of my hand a bit, like I had just hit a button.

Why the hell does this process remind me of the Omnitrix from Ben 10? Odd...

*ZZZZZZT*

My metal hand starts crackling and surging with... energy? Indeed so. Dancing and sparking around my mithril arm is pure, blue electrical energy, the sight sending my hairs on end and polluting my body with goosebumps. Oscillating my glance between the electricity gushing around my hand and the still-pounding heart of Apep, the rusty gears in my rather unhinged mind begin turning: A heart technically works via electric currents, which is why defibrillators are used to correct the irregular or nonexistent heartbeats of a recently deceased patient, right? Vice versa works as well: a strong enough electric current can interrupt the heart’s typical beating pattern and stop it altogether.

“Here goes nothing,” I grit my teeth and plunge my fist dead-centre into Apep’s heart, sinking all the way to my elbow. On contact, the electricity from my arm blasts into the heart, making the muscle bounce and throb rapidly. Lightning energy blazes through Apep’s body, causing the sun-devouring serpent to shriek in pure anguish, his body lurching and twisting horrifically.

The writhing of agony dies down as the heart stops beating and Apep’s body, now flaccid and cold, flops onto the ground. The body explodes and disperses a huge miasmic shockwave of yellow dust, such as how the monsters from the Percy Jackson books would erupt when slain. Sitting in the middle of the sulfur-scented powder, covered in dust and ichor, is-

“DAMIEN!!!” Kaileena leaps out from behind a boulder and sprints full-force at me, hazel eyes brighter than floodlights. With a huge bound, she tackles me into the volcanic earth, hugging me as if I'm about to cease existing in the next few seconds. “THANK GODS YOU’RE ALIVE! YOU-” She halts in the middle of her sentence, her nose sniffing me. Detaching herself from me, she pulls a face of disgust and gags out a “blegh” in response to my stench. “You really stink.”

“No kiddin’,” I sigh. I’m pretty sure I’ll be cleaning out this cantankerous odor from my nostrils for the next week.

“It’s wondrous to see you alive and well, Damien!” Fancypants declares, Fleur nodding her agreement to the statement. The duo of unicorns are clenching their nostrils with their hooves.

“Thought you die in there!” Mercutio says, hugging me, despite my horrid smell, and giving my face a lick like a regular dog would his owner or companion, only for him to spit vehemently onto the floor, pawing his tongue of the nasty powder-ichor mixture. “BLEGH! Terrible taste!” he mumbles as he continues to cleanse his maw of the tainted blood.

"No duh: snake-god blood an' dust that smells like rotten eggs an' dirty diapers're not a good fusion."

“Well, regardless, it’s nice to see you alive, Damien,” Osiris nods in my direction.

Matsimela launches a smile my way, as he was also covered head to root in the dust. With a massive and almighty shake and twist, the dust unsettling from his timber body and falling onto the floor as he sheathed a large sword back into his knuckles as if he was Wolverine with his adamantium claws. Where he got the sword and how he manages to fit it in his huge stump of an arm is a miracle in and of itself. “Glad to see you’re safe and sound!” he says, a grin of acknowledgement spreading across his face.

“Thanks, everyone.” I stand to my talons, weak-kneed from having to exert so much magical power into that finishing blow. The gem on my hand, no longer billowing with energy and now dimmer than before, makes that much evident.

DoN’t ThInK tHiS iS oVeR yEt, ImP. I’lL bE bAcK.... Apep’s voice blares in my head loudly, not unlike the sirens of a fire engine. Shivers bombard my spine, my eye twitching slightly as I cringe uncomfortably at the thought of that menace still being alive. Will he pull a dick move like what the bosses do in Resident Evil, where the boss fakes his death only to return in a different and more powerful form?

“Damien, are you okay?” Kaileena puts her paw on my shoulder, eyes flooding with concern. Her orbs of sight were tainted with red cracks and puffy lids: she had been crying. Hard. "You went all twitchy there for a moment."

“Yeah...” I place my hand on her paw and nod. “I need ta wash up. Badly.”

“I think I saw a hot spring a few kilometres away from here, next to that volcano.” Osiris suggests, pointing to the aforementioned spot. The others nod in almost synchronised unison, since they, too, are all caked with the sulfur-scented dust of Apep.

“Brilliant. Let’s go.”

XXV - Hatching a Plan

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXV - Hatching a Plan

Have you ever had your own personal catharsis?

Like, a sort of stress relief that you and those who share the same interest as you can all have? It varies between different people. Typically, it’s when you come home after a long day of work or school. People find ways to rid themselves of their stress when they are in the sanctities of their abodes: they tend to take off their pants (or bra, if you’re a lady) when they walk in the door, they eat, they take a nap, they watch television, they masturbate—I won’t sugar o’er the devil himself by telling you a safer variant of that word; I’m telling it to you like it is—they bathe, they read, et cetera.

For some people, it’s one or some of these things.

For some others—the real freaks of nature—it could probably be all of these things.

For me, however, given the gorey ramifications of “slaying” Apep, an obvious form of stress relief is performed.

...No, I’m not talking about wanking, that’s fucking disgusting. I’m talking about bathing.

The hot spring water, steaming slightly from the geothermal energy of the adjacent volcano’s magma, corrodes the tenseness in my muscles, as well as washing off the ichor and nasty dust that caked my body earlier. The others sink in, even Matsimela, who found a second hotspring next to ours, and proceed to cleanse themselves with the pristine fluid. All except Kaileena, being too afraid to get in.

The next minute and a half mainly consist of her and Fleur de Lis arguing with the hydrophobic Bast that the water was perfectly fine, and that there are several cats out there that are capable of swimming. However, she had none of that, and still remains adamant in her refusal to enter the pond and rid herself of her stink.

The arguments and rebuttals only end when Mat decides that he’s had enough, plucking Kaileena by the back of her neck. Flailing and yowling, Kaileena plummets into our hot spring, a huge splash eliciting from her collision with the steamy water. We wait until she swims upward, gasping for air and screaming at the top of her lungs. “Hot! HothothothothothotHOT!” she yowls in anguish, drenched from head to paw as she scratches and claws her way out of the water, shaking the water vigorously from her coat.

“They don’t call it a hot spring for nothing...” Osiris grumbles as he digs a pinkie into an ear hole on the side of his head.

“Precisely,” croons Fleur de Lis, sighing in ecstasy. “And the heat is so good for my complexion....”

“Uh, can everyone look away, please?” I say, ensuring that everyone closes their eyes or turns their heads before I get out of the water and put on my clothes. Once that’s over, I give them permission to look again.

“Why you wear clothes in first place?” Mercutio asks, climbing out of the spring and shaking the water out of his fur, sprinkling everything within a four-foot radius of him. Looks like he’s done, too.

“Back where I’m from, clothes’re necessary ta hide our nudity. See, there’s a taboo back home that prohibits bein’ naked in public.” The Diamond Dog nods and hums in understanding. The two of us wait patiently for the others to get themselves cleaned up, and in the meantime, we just tended to our weapons. While Mercutio inspected his hammer for any faults that could be detrimental to its performance, I also examined Ellipsis, looking for anything that showed signs of damage. Whilst unsure if mithril could even be damaged, I’m still curious—perhaps even paranoid—about what might have happened.

No... not a scratch.

Well, that reinforces my little theory of mithril being like Wolverine’s adamantium.

Just then, I feel something tap me on the shoulder. Craning my head around to face Kaileena, she asks me, “Hey, Damien. Listen, can you help me with something?”

Mercutio was no longer next to me, and he was now chatting with Osiris, Fancypants, and Fleur. How long was I zoned out? “Sure, what is it?”

“Well... I was wondering if you could help me with telling apart colours. It’s weird to not know what they are and yet experience them.”

“What, like give ‘em names so that ya can distinguish them?” I inquire, setting Ellipsis down next to me.

“Yeah, that.”

I turned my whole body around to face her and motioned for her to take a seat, which she obliged to. “Y’know, if I had me iPod, it’d help ya loads more,” I say, subtly mourning the loss of my backpack—which had all of our food and other provisions, mind you.

*Rrrrrrrr*

Speaking of food....

“Why not check your pockets?” she suggests. “They could be in there.”

“Preposterous.” I don’t know why I barked like that: maybe the food—or lack thereof—is getting to me. Easy, man, I chide myself.

“Just do it.” Under her snap and hardening gaze, I dig my hands into my pockets, under the impression I’ll find nothing. However, that’s not the case. Once my hands enter my hoodie pockets, it feels like they went on for eons. I dig my hands deeper into my pockets, all the way to the middle of my biceps, yet I could still keep going.

“What the hell?” We both say as I try looking around for my iPod like Kaileena asked me to. I feel something metallic enter my right hand. I grab it, pull my hand out, and lo and behold, my iPod is clenched in my fist.

“See?” she says in a slightly smug “I-told-you-so” tone, obviously dusting off the fact that I had just performed a physical impossibility. “I had a feeling it’d be in there.”

“I’ll say this again: what... the hell?” I delve deeper into my hoodie pockets, my arms sinking into the unusual void, my hands brushing by several things. “Okay, this is ridiculous.”

“I’ll say,” Kaileena comments, bugged-out eyes watching my sweater precariously. “Look at you go.”

At random, I start pulling out things that are supposedly in reach. Five wire coat hangers, a massive chunk of fibreglass in a spacious plastic baggy, two cans of soda, a hammer, a razor, a pushpin, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a frying pan and pot, sandpaper, two exotic daggers, a rolled-up brown tent the size of an American football, and a little dream catcher necklace later, I’ve had just about enough of the inanity known as my hoodie. “I swear ta God, if I pull out an anvil, I’m gonna slap th’ shit outta someone,” I growl, pulling out the ink, quill, and paper I once kept in my backpack.

But no... food....

“Relax, there’s no way something that heavy would get in there.”

“Ya wanna test that theory?” I watch as Kaileena puts her paw in the pocket. Her eyes grow even bigger as her arm sinks inside, all the way to her shoulder.

“What the– It’s like there’s no end to this!” She says in a fusion of astonishment and worry. “What is this, I don’t even...” She pulls her arm out, cradling it in her other paw as if it were on the verge of falling off.

“I know.” I turn on the iPod, unlock it, and browse the superfast, magically-enhanced Internet. I go to Google Images, searching for “colour names”, and select a picture with a detailed list of colours and their names. “Study up on that,” I say as I get up to discuss with the others on what to do.

“Wait, you’re not helping me?” If guilt could lead to weight loss, then I’d probably be anorexic right now. “I can’t learn this all by myself: especially since I can’t read this.” Great... now I could definitely be at my birth weight.

“Alright, fine...” I sit back down in front of Kaileena, who looks overjoyed that I’m sticking around. It takes awhile to distinguish the colours she wanted to learn, since I had to tell it to her in English, and watch her write it in her language, with the help of an adjacent stick and the dirt beneath us. I listened to her pronounced her native language aloud to help comprehend the names better; it sounded like she was speaking a fusion of Chinese and Klingon.

It’s funny how time seems to contradict our wishes and desires. As much as I want time to hurry up, it does the opposite of what I want. The minutes slugged by, until impatience started setting in. “Okay... now a quick little pop quiz,” I say. “Name th’ seven colours o’ th’ rainbow.”

“Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.” I applaud at the correct answers, watching as Kaileena raised her arms in victory (with me celebrating in my head the fact that we’re finally over with it).

*ROAAAAAAAR*

“What the hell was that?” Mat gets up, hollow eyes supposedly scanning the horizon in search of the noise. Another roar blares across the sky like a siren, and Mat points it out: a smaller volcano about a third of a kilometre to our right. “It’s coming from over there!”

Osiris beats his wings and flies up to Mat’s eye level. “I think we should check it out.”

Mat nods in agreement. “I think I might know what it’s all about...”

“How ‘bout no?” I say, before they could move another metre. “That roar was horrifically loud: that’s a sign that it’s definitely gonna be a huge baddie this time.”

“Plus, we just got done killing a monster,” erred Kaileena, arms fold on top of her chest. “Can we please let the matter resolve itself?”

“All in favour of letting this go and bidding farewell to this horrid place?” suggested Fleur de Lis, raising her hoof. Fancypants raises his, and me and Kaileena follow suit. Mercutio, Mat, and Osiris are the only ones not willing to follow our example.

“Well, this is a democracy, after all, and majority does rule,” says Fancypants. “Come along, everyone, let’s depart.” He turns to face me. “Now, which way leads to Canterlot?”

“What’m I ta ya, a compass?” The alabaster stallion raises a brow, clearly unamused. “Oh, fine.” I look around for the sun, and see that it’s setting behind me, and behind the volcanic mountains. That means that behind me is west... if that’s the case, and judging by how these badlands are south of Equestria, then–

“That’s north ta Equestria,” I announce, pointing to my left. “Once we get there, we’ll ask fer directions ta Canterlot.

“Excellent! Come along, everypony!” Fancypants and Fleur trot in the direction I pointed in, with Kaileena and I following them.

As I look behind me, however, I don’t see Mat, Mercutio, or Osiris coming with us. Instead, they’re making their way to the volcano where the roaring came from.

“Guys, what are ya doin’?!?!” I screech to the three, the others I’m following whipping around and standing stunned at the griffin/dog/Ent trio. We pursue them as fast as we can, panting from the distance we have to cover.

“Will you shut it?” Osiris growls at me, leaving me taken aback. “I’m tired of listening to you! It’s because of you we’re here, it’s because of you we had to fight that– that thing!" No doubt he's talking about Apep. "I’m pretty sure if we listened to you any longer, we’ll be killed! Horribly! Besides, how can we know you’re right or not? Whenever we’re in danger, it’s your fault!”

Something’s not right here... didn’t he help try to save me not more than two hours ago? Plus, he's going to where there is a dangerous creature that could kill him., and he's blaming me for being the source of all our problems? If this were a story, this would be a story just loaded with plot holes.

I bite my tongue and hold back what I was going to say, stung by the insults he blasted, even if they are true. “I know they’re my fault. I know I’m th’ one who causes these types o’ things ta happen. But guess who’s the fuckin’ dumbass who pals along with me? Who’s the moron who still sticks around?” I stab my finger into his feathery chest. “You.”

“Aren’t you being a little harsh, Dam–”

“Like hell I am!” I roar at the speaker, Fancypants, who recoils from by outburst. I take a breath and rub my temples, trying to calm myself down, before facing Osiris. “Don’t ever think that ya were forced ta join me. True Pariah recommended that we have backup; it’s not like he demanded that ya come along. Ya can get th’ hell out now while ya still can, an’ go back ta Pariah.” I point at the horizon north.

Osiris falls silent, sputtering feebly in the attempt to retaliate. Failing that, I watch as he fires me the dirtiest look he can muster. I shudder at how scary it looked, but I grit my teeth and launch back a death glare of my own.

“Okay, can you two stop being little kids?!” Kaileena says, grabbing the back of both of our skulls and headbutting us together, the griffin and I a bit stunned by by the surprise collision. “Gods, you guys are such children! Osiris, stop chewing out Damien: it’s not his fault he has a talent for trouble.”

“Pfft... yeah, right...” grumbles Osiris, crossing his arms.

“What was that?” Kaileena growls, pulling her hooked sword out and pressing it against the griffin’s throat.

“N-n-nothing!” A nervous smile creeps along his face, and Kaileena puts away her sword. Osiris wipes his brow of sweat and sighs in relief.

“And Damien, you shouldn’t lose your temper like that,” Mat tells me. “It’s definitely not good for your health.” He reaches into his foliage and pulls out a handful of fruit, before presenting them to our entourage. They’re figs, by the size and shape of them. “Here, eat a fig."

"Why?"

"Because you're an over-exasperated brat when you're hungry." We all give our thanks to the Ent and eat up, our stomachs gladly taking in the fruit. I finished up the rest of the fig greedily, and before I know it, I’m gorging myself on a second. Then a third. I’ve never had a fig quite this sapid before. It was so sweet, so juicy, so amazing. It was like a never-ending celebration going on in my mouth. "Better?"

"Yeah!" Unfortunately, in the attempt to speak, the fig went down the wrong pipe, and I end up choking on the mouthful of my fourth fig.

“Whoa, slow down!” Mat says when I thump myself on the chest to clear my airway, and tell them I’m fine. “Feel any better?” We nod, our stomachs no longer barren. That’s funny. My agitation is gone. A miracle, really, what food can do to improve your mood. “Look, the reason why I came here as well was because I had some important business to attend to first.”

“What kind of business?” Kaileena inquires.

“Well, Isis told me to come see you first. She told me you’d come here.”

“Isis?” I tilt my head. “You mean th’ Egyptian goddess o’ fertility an’ magic?”

‘My daughter is with the Ent?’ Nut’s voice booms in my cranium. "Well, this just got interesting."

“That’s the one,” Mat finishes.

Kaileena sighs. “Okay, so if you left because you had things to do, and Osiris left because he’s kind of an ass–”

“Hey!”

“Then why did Mercutio leave with him?” The Dog in question scratches at the earth with his hind paw, drawing circles in the dirt as he looks down.

I walk over to him, scan him in an analytical way. Mercutio looks up, brow raised in curiosity as the rusted-over gears in my head start turning once more, using whatever knowledge that still remains in my head from my Psychology. “Lemme take a guess: Ya’ve known Osiris fer a while now. I’d classify th’ two o’ ya as inseparable, yes?” Mercutio nods. “Huh. I’m right fer a change.”

“Well, will it be any trouble if we help you with this one last task?” Fleur asks Mat.

“I’d be happy as a clam if you came along.” Mat smiles. “So, here is what Isis relayed to me earlier. A dragon in the badlands has been terrorising a Diamond Dog crew and their airship for a while now. Isis also told me that their base of operations, their meetups, usually take place here in the Wastelands, in one of the volcanoes. This one–” he rapped on the surface of the magma-spilling mountain. “–is where they’re meeting up.”

We scale up the escarpment of the volcano, taking care not to let the steep slope make us slip and slide back down to the bottom. An easy task for me and Osiris, what with wings and all. Mat’s roots help him grapple onto the mountain’s face, and Kaileena’s and Mercutio’s claws seem to help with holding on as well. The only ones having problems are Fancypants and Fleur de Lis: but of course, I can sympathise with them, since hooves aren’t exactly ideal for grabbing onto things. So, Mat offers a hand by letting them climb onto his hammock in his foliage.

After about six minutes of profuse climbing/flying, we make it to the lip of the volcano. The temperature has no doubt increased drastically, and the ember rain is coming down harder now that we’re close to one of its sources. I watch as Fancypants and Fleur both use their magic to string up a magic barrier around Mat so that he wouldn’t get torched. “Thanks,” he mumbles to them. I do the same thing, pointing at the rest of us with my left hand and saying “Protego”, clear but impregnable barriers surrounding us. The gem in my hand was growing dimmer from my magic use: I have to recharge it one way or another if I want to perform more magic with it.

We peer into the inside of the volcano. A big, solidified island of obsidian sits in the middle of the lava. A huge chrome and steel airship, probably about the size of a baseball field, rests on the island. Near the airship is a large black dragon who was almost twice as tall as Mat, his angry yellow eyes glaring down upon a fleet of Diamond Dogs, the mutts in question quivering in place with their tails between their legs. “Did you bring enough?” the dragon growls. A large wolf-like hound—the Alpha, by the looks of him—walks up to his airship. The air around his vessel ripples a little bit, and that makes me raise an eyebrow. There’s something fishy about that airship, alright....

The Alpha opens a big hatch in the side, and out spills a rainbow-coloured cataract of gems, the waterfall of jewels splashing at the feet of the dragon.

“What is this?” The dragon asks, obviously not amused by what he thinks is a meagre pile of rocks.

“Y-Your shipment of jewels, O wicked one,” stutters one of the Diamond Dogs. “S-s-straight from our m-mines, brought t-to you b-by our zebra s-slaves.”

“This is not enough!” I wince as the dragon slams his fist into the ground, the Dogs cowering. I should’ve guessed: as they grow older, a dragon becomes more and more greedy. That’s how they get so huge in the first place. If we rush in guns blazin', we'll be toast for sure.

“Okay, guys, how’re we gonna go about this?” I ask in a near-silent voice, for fear of the dragons and dogs overhearing us.

“I dunno...” Mat answers in a low volume.

“Now I wish I’d gone back to Pariah...” murmurs Osiris.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Kaileena whispers.

“What do?” Mercutio looks a little afraid of what was going on in the volcano.

“What we need is a plan,” Fleur and Fancypants say simultaneously. I scan every single thing there is to scan in the volcano, anything that we can use to get that dragon out of commission, and stop those dogs from harvesting more slaves.

Airship. Dragon. Dogs. Airship... Dragon... Dogs...

…

…

…!

Ideeeeaaaa~!

Author's Note

Wow, it's been MONTHS since the last update. It's because I've got some things going on right now (art, other stories, school work, anime(huehuehue)). I know this chapter is probably not satisfactory at all, but, I figured I'd publish it out anyway. Hopefully, this will at least make you all a little happy.

~S.W.
:3

XXVI - Fate Loves The Fearless... And The Batshit Crazy

Severe Warning: huge amounts of (un)necessary references, an attack that’ll make Gary Stu OCs look like humble and modest background characters, and inappropriate singing that involves fabulous bad-mouthing, the word “shit” A LOT, and a mood that will create a tidal wave of both lulz and dafuqs for you. Reader discretion is advised.

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXVI - Fate Loves The Fearless... And The Batshit Crazy

We are all going to die.

Let’s face it: we can’t avoid it. Sure, there are myths like the Fountain of Youth and the Philosopher’s Stone, and even scientific theories like reversing the degeneration of chromosomes that lead to old life. But in the end, that’s all they are: myths and theories that can’t be proven.

So you, me, your mum, your dad, your best friend—Everyone. They will all die.

Our lives are so fragile, we don’t think about it much because there are thousands of other things our minds are wrapped up in, like the test we have to take tomorrow, or that job interview we have in a week.

The pointless or important every day things that we look forward to or the things we dread are the things that capture our attention the most but rarely do we ever completely stop and think that something could happen to us, and we've almost built up this sense of invulnerability to it with the whole “Oh, that could never happen to me” facade.

Just think: think about the possibility that our life isn't this rock solid thing that's safe from harm, and instead, it’s something bound in bones that can break and hearts that can stop beating in a split second.

And when you stop and think about it... actually think about it... it’s terrifying, isn’t it?

What’s even more perplexing is the fact that people aren’t afraid to die. They know that Death visits everyone. He knocks on your front door. And he bides his time, thinks about who else is next for him to rendezvous with after he’s done with you. He can wait. A week, a month, a year, et cetera: Death doesn’t care. He is patient, ominous, and meetings with the Reaper are without a doubt imminent. Only... some people are happy to see him. A hello. A handshake. A conversation. And off they go.

Me? To be honest... I’m scared shitless of dying. Just the thought of it teeters me towards getting a flop sweat and a case of the chills. A reason as to why? There’s so much I have yet to do. A cliche answer, I know, but bear with me when I say that because I’m in this world, Equestria, a certain sense of longing for adventure was coursing through my veins. I want to this world with my eyes. To let my taste buds bask in the myriad of flavours it has yet to experience. To bless my eyes with the privilege to peruse through an ocean of books and tomes written in ancient or modern tongues, greedily and voraciously absorbing the knowledge that are trapped within the pages. To make love, to have kids, to grow old... The things that I’m dying to partake in.

But enough about my existential crises. Let’s get back to the story, shall we?

The black dragon, still sorely disappointed by what he thinks is a meagre supply of jewels, growls low, the rumbling making the floor vibrate slightly. He begins to mean-mug the mutts menacingly, his livid glare causing the Diamond Dogs to quake where they stand. “How DARE you supply me with... with this despicable pile of coal!” He smashes the pile of gems with a long spiked tail, decimating more than three-quarters of the jewels to pieces, the obsidian cracking from the blow. The Dogs (and Fleur de Lis) whimper at the sight of the gemstones crumbling underneath the sheer force of the strike.

“W-we are sorry!” The Dog in front, the Alpha, bows low in the attempt to ameliorate any assaults on the dragon’s honour and/or dignity.

Sadly, Ol’ Scaly was having none of that: he proceeds to snatch one of the Alpha’s accomplices up with an enormous claw, the canine in his grasp flailing and screaming in pure terror. I feel a twinge of pity formulate within me at the sight of the dragon bringing his prey closer to his greedy maw. I cringe when I see the dog get launched into his mouth, and the dragon began chewing. The sound of sharp teeth crushing bones and grinding flesh sends my spine into a shiver-fest. I watch in horror as the blood drips down his scaly lips and onto the ground. “Sorry does not make more gems appear, you wretched cretins!!!” screeched the dragon.

“Shouldn’t we go now?!” Kaileena implores quietly. “Before they all die?!”

“...I thought ya didn’t like dogs,” I say, confused.

“That doesn’t mean I want them all dead!”

“Can you not argue like a married couple and get on with it?!” Mat whisper-screams, leaving both me and the Bast speechless and a little embarrassed. “You had a plan, didn’t you?”

The dragon brings up another claw to gore the Alpha to pieces. A column of smoke expels from each nostril of the evil wyvern, his mouth curling up in a bloody smirk.

A rock striking his neck brings him out of bloodthirsty reverie.

“What? Who dares to–” He turns his head to see the oddest of beings. A hairless bipedal monkey... thing, with black dragon wings and a patch of black fur on its head, strange monochromatic clothes, a left arm that was the darkest of greys, and eagle feet with black talons. Another appears to be a pony, dressed in elegant clothing and sporting a very intimidated look on its face, much to the dragon’s satisfaction. A third was a griffin, icy-blue feathers slicked back and body in a bipedal stance with the use of his wings. “What are you doing here?”

Okay... so far so good. With the Dogs and the dragon focusing on me and my singing sidekicks, I could see Kaileena, Mat, Fleur, and Mercutio circle around the volcano, use Mat’s long stride to get onto the island, and slip into the airship while we distract the three stooges.

“Did you throw that rock at me, impudent whelps?” he asked, voice cold with flowing contempt. Ruh-roh.

Okay. Here goes everything.

Step one: Queue music.

Step two: Be fabulous whilst dancing and singing.

Step three: Pray to every single deity in existence that this works... that includes Nicolas Cage, Serj Tankian, and Morgan Freeman.

Step four: ???

Step five: Mothafuckin’ profit, biotch.

“Ready, you three?” I ask Fancypants and Osiris, who both nod. “Jus’ like we went over?” Another nod. “Alright, then!” A throat-clearing, and the utilising of my remaining magic. “Musica Memoria.”

At first, there was silence, then the sound of a drum being slammed initiated the song.

Uh-huh, holy shit

It's about time you get off my dick

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit.

You damn right I was talking shit

I told your man so you would hear it

What you doin' acting like that

Now people know what's up

So you came to my place

Saw the look on your face

I hit a home run then I kicked you out

But first I broke my pom-pom out

And now you know what's up

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit.

So last night girl, saw you under the bleachers

Giving head to a substitute teacher

Perfect grades didn't make no sense

But now it's all cleared up

And it's comin' right back

'Cause I'm telling your pack

So don't freak out when your secret's out

That's right girl, you can't deny this

Your knees is all scratched up

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit.

Let me hear you say this shit is

Super-cala-fragalistic-expialidoshus

S-U-P-E-R-C-A-L-A-F-R-A-G-A...um...

..What!!

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

A few times you been around that track

But your ass is still fat, it's

gonna stay like that

'Cause I ain't your hollaback boy

I ain't your hollaback boy

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit, this is my shit

(Ooh oo) This is my shit.

The song ends with a trumpet blare, leaving me, Fancypants, and Osiris panting and sweating from having to dance and sing to distract the monster and his canine victims, especially under this heat. “What.” The dragon deadpans, not only unamused, but clearly confused. “Just... what.”

...Now here’s the part where we’re stuck.

“Uh, rude,” Osiris says, arms crossed. “Shouldn't you be satisfied we went through the trouble of entertaining you?”

...Ffffffffuck, I think you just made it worse/

“Indeed!” He licks his lips greedily again. “Dinner and a show!”

While the look on my face shows calmness, I am practically screaming on the inside. The point of this little “look-at-me” phase is to keep calm on the outside and hope that the fear leaking from you isn't palpable enough for dragons or Diamond Dogs to pick up.

Unfortunately, aforementioned dragon’s nose is stronger than a bloodhound’s, because the malicious grin sprouting upon his mouth almost makes one of us openly defecate ourselves.

*WhhhrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-*

Ah. Right on queue.

Fancypants, Osiris, and I watch the airship steadily rise into the air, any gems hanging sloppily out of the cargo area spilling onto the obsidian ground. The Alpha dog and his remaining crony could only stare in shock and confusion as their ticket out of here whips out of their hands...

...and floats into ours.

“Love to stick around and, uh, be delicious for you, old boy–” Fancypants hops on Osiris’s back, earning a look of irritation from the griffin “– but we are... oh, what is the term? ‘Blowing this popsicle stand’!”

I’ve taught him so well. Brain, shed liquid pride, please.

*Sniff sniff* On it, Boss.

With a cheeky smirk from all of us, we fly up to the airship and get in, glancing back at the dragon roaring furiously at us as we sail away from the volcano and towards our ship. However, upon getting closer to the airship, my hair stands on end. Every nerve in my body shakes like I’m caught in a tremor. Osiris and Fancypants don’t look too hot either, since both are wearing the same expressions of pain and discomfort as me. It feels like I’m trying to push through a wall of plastic wrap as thick as a sycamore tree. With one final heave, we push through, and tumble unceremoniously onto the floor of our newly-taken airship. Kaileena and others also have the same looks of exhaustion we do, but theirs appears... less intense, since they went earlier than us. What the hell was that all about?

...Despite the state we’re in, the seven of us let out a weak hurrah, surprised our plan had actually worked.

The airship itself is really big: like I said, it was as big as a baseball diamond, an amalgamation of chrome, steel, and iron designed to take to the sky. The ceiling is high enough for even Mat to stand up straight. Two large doors lead down to the bridge, the size of it to be determined at a later date. In the centre of the metal floor is a group of five or six different-sized and -coloured Diamond Dogs, bound and gagged in rope.

“Is all of them?” asks Mercutio over the muffled cries of the outraged, imprisoned canines. Fleur nods with an “I think so”, happy she and her companions had completed clearing out the ship and incapacitating the others on board.

I look down at my left arm, the jewel depleted of magic. There had to be something here to replenish it.

No, not something... somepony. Two, to be precise.

I whistle at Fancypants and Fleur. The two alabaster ponies trot over, puzzled by why I have called them over. “Say, can th’ two o’ ya use yer magic ta recharge this thing?” I wobble my magicless arm.

“Well... we could give it a try,” Fleur answers. “No guarantees, however.”

“That’s fine, lassie. Have a go at it.” The unicorn duo flare up their horns, a dusky tan aura emanating from Fancypants’, and a very light pink swirling around Fleur’s. The two auras mix as they extend towards my arm, resulting in a relatively light willow-brown hue as the aura connected with the gem on the back of my hand. The luminance of the gem increases in intensity, to the point where it becomes hard to look at directly. It’s obvious already that my arm is now at full charge.

“I am fully charged!” I exclaim in a German accent. face gleaming in the light. Sadly, neither pony gets my reference. Geez.... the hoops I gotta jump through to please these guys....

“Er... nevermind. Great job, you t-” I get cut short by something in the shadows of a hallway: a pair of neon blue eyes gleaming in the dark, a duo of sapphires glaring maliciously at Osiris and the others. The eyes, along with their seven-foot-tall green Diamond Dog owner, emerge from the veils of black, a massive knobbly club in his wide paws, high above his head.

Kaileena, being the only other one to notice due to her position across from the griffin, gasps. She quickly leaps over Osiris and draws her hooked sword, swinging it just in time to block the heavy club bearing down on her. Another swing is given by her, but the Dog jams the butt of his club down in defence, causing her to hit the club instead of him, the sword biting into the thick strong wood. She tries pulling it out, only for the blade to be stuck in the club. The Dog sends a well-aimed kick her way, causing her to crash painfully onto the ground. The others get up to fight, only for Kaileena to scream, “No! I can handle this!”

I sure hope she can: she'll need agility and speed in order to take this brute down. Unable to pull her sword out, she instead withdraws from inside the confines of her hip sash a pair of eight-inch-long obsidian daggers.

...Wait a bloody second, those daggers are mine! How did she get them from out of my pocket? And how did I not notice it?

...Oh yeah... she was next to me when we were scouting the volcano. She must’ve pickpocketed me... anyways, back to the much-needed action.

The tall dog laughs tauntingly at the small butter knifes the Bast had unsheathed. Tall Green an’ Ugly, however, doesn’t laugh anymore when Kaileena growls with the fierceness of a puma, jumps up high after getting a deep squat, and delivers a swift kick to his face, her claws on her feet leaving a trio of fresh deep cuts on his already-fugly complexion. To be frank, he... actually gets quite pissed. Atta girl, Kai.

He swings the club harder and harder, driven into killing her, with the Bast using all of her stamina to dodge each vicious attack. He slams down into the ground of the ship, burying it into the metal. He tries pulling it out, only to be met with failure. Kaileena runs up the club, jumps at his head, and jambs both daggers into his throat, blood pouring profusely from the wounds as she slices angrily at his jugular. The dog stumbles off of the ship, with Kaileena jumping off at the last second and landing back on. We watch as the deceased canine disappears through the dark clouds.

“Everyone, clean out the rest of the ship: there are probably more and more of the Dogs we forgot to clear out!” Osiris bellows as Fancypants and Fleur fix the hole in the floor.

Had it not been for an earsplitting roar behind us, we would have gotten started right away on it.

It goes off like a cannon blast, resounding throughout the sky, deadening my hearing. We look behind us and see the dragon from before. The black wyvern looks very angry that its lunch is getting away. “Foolish creatures! You will pay with your lives!”

...Ohshitwigger.jpg.

“Osiris! Yer with me!” I holler nervously over Fleur’s terrified, annoying screaming, the griffin nodding at my command. “Mat! Ya Think ya can climb on top o’ th’ ship an’ help us from up there?!”

“Sure!” roars back the Ent as he goes to the side farthest from the dragon and clambers on top of the balloon-like steel structure above our heads. The airship sinks some metres, but we still remain altitude. Osiris and I soar off the ship and face the dragon head on. Süt (calling him ‘dragon’ a lot is a bit obnoxious) inhales a massive wad of air before blowing, a big stream of fire flaring out from his lungs, almost striking us. It doesn’t hit us, however; it hits the ship.

I can only watch in horror as our newly-claimed vessel is surrounded in flames... with my friends and loved ones inside it. Something feels off though... in terms of area, the ship is smaller than the flames that are shrouding it...

The flames clear, and I see that the ship is still in tip-top shape. Even Mat appears unscathed. What the–?

“OOF!”

Because I wasn’t paying attention to my opponent, Süt hits me with his tail, his slugger of an appendage getting a home run on me as I smack into the ship. The same feeling of having to push through an impregnable wall of plastic wrap comes to me again, except due to my acceleration, I slip through it more easily and crash to the ground, stunned and disoriented.

So that’s what that feeling is... I’m passing through a barrier, a magic shield, so to speak.

More roaring from Süt draws my attention again, and I see a huge chunk of wood, modeled like a sword and connected to a thick root, hitting the dragon in the side. Good show, Mat, good show.

“Medica!” The feeling of agony dissipates with the spell, the gem in my scythe dimming a bit. I rush towards Süt, Ellipsis clenched in my fist, and swing as hard as I can at him, the blade shaving off all but a scale or two. Süt only roars more, the spots where his scales attached to his flesh sporting fresh blood. Only a bald patch as big as an infant’s arm is visible.

That’s all I need right now.

“OSIRIS! HERE!” I yell, almost getting ignited by another blast of flame from Süt that I barely manage to dodge. I point at the bald spot I made on Süt, and Osiris draws another arrow of magic. The projectile sails from the string and bites greedily into Süt’s flesh, drawing more blood. Süt lets out a scream/roar, infuriated that a chink in his almighty armour had been made. He swats at Osiris, knocking him straight into me. The two of us descend to the ground like stones in water. Only me flaring my wings out at the last second helps break our fall and saves us from kicking the bucket... but it still didn’t feel nice to have a seven-hundred pound griffin land on top of me.

“You alright?” The griffin, voice hoarse and—judging by his position of pain—a few bones broken. I nod weakly, but he doesn’t reciprocate my response for himself. “Ach! My wings!” Sure enough, his appendages of flight look bad. Very bad: the wings were bent at a grotesque, wrong angle. A lot of his feathers are contorted in weird directions. “Rrrr.... I’m... I’m gonna need to sit out on this one, Damien.”

“That’s fine, lad: ya did good.” I push him off with his help and take soar back into the air. “Here: medica maxima!” Osiris’s wings snap into place, earning shouts of agony from him. The screams only subside when he can move his wings and body altogether. More of my scythe’s gem’s light dims, only more significantly, to the point where the actual gemstone itself is almost all but a dull, unilluminated rock.

“Think ya can take a break now?” Osiris shakes his head; if only I could reciprocate his response, since healing him drained me of quite a bit of my energy. I slap myself awake, however, hoping that would help me cooperate long enough to stay alive. “Let’s go, then.” I race off to fight Süt with Osiris hot on my tail, as I fiddle with the dial on my fully-charged arm, looking for something, anything, that could help us. There’s gotta be something here I can use other than that taser fist! C’mon, c’mon, c’moooon....

Hmm...

Another image appears in the light of my gemstone, one that’s entirely different from my last one. It has a large, thin lightning bolt coming out of the end of a barrel-like something... a cannon, or a gun barrel, perhaps. Okay, so judging by my last special technique my arm has to offer, along with this one right now, it seems I can do electric attacks with this thing. Not really what I have in mind for what I need; but right now, I don’t care as long as it gets the job done.

I press the gem, right before I reach Süt’s altitude. The metal in my arm starts to shift, turn, whir; almost like a machine come to life. It’s discomforting to watch a piece of you metamorph before your eyes. It’s even more discomforting to feel it all happen. It’s not something anyone can describe without sounding like a tard, but it feels so unnatural. Think of it like, pieces of flesh breaking away in certain spots, and moving and shifting all on their own.

The eight-second-long transformation subsides, leaving my left hand to resemble something like a mix between Samus Aran’s Arm Cannon and one of those prize-grabbing claw machines, with three thick, bent metal prongs that spun slowly. There’s a gauge on my forearm, something along the lines of an overheat metre, I think. A sliding handle to pull back sticks out of the right must be how I reload, or fire, or something along the lines of dispensing ammunition.

I point my new cannon of an arm at Süt, the black dragon gritting his teeth as he breaths in heavily again, prepping another blast of fire. With as much energy as I can muster, I use all the magic in my arm to create some form of an attack.

The barrel of the cannon begins to charge up a small sphere of white-blue energy, frizzing with electricity as the prongs spin faster and faster, possibly to harness more electricity. The sphere, crackling with energy, grows in intensity and size, the metre on my arm filling up gradually with a green bar that becomes yellow, then red, until it became full in seconds. Okay, so... a charge metre, not an overheat metre. I see....

I direct the cannon right at the mouth of Süt, just as the aforementioned dragon blasts his torrent of fiery evil towards yours truly. Banishing Ellipsis into the Abyss to give myself a free hand, I pull back the handle as hard as I can.

Honestly... I don’t know what I expected.

The second the handle reaches the end of its slot, the most intense bolt of compressed energy explodes from the cannon. The tsunami of white-blue lightning is, to say the least, absolutely deafening, and looks so much like Inuyasha’s Wind Scar. The energy crashes and wrestles with the fire, a rendition of Voldemort’s & Harry Potter’s Avada Kedavra/Expelliarmus clash. Süt’s flames and my lightning butt heads with one another.

I can’t hold it for long, though. The metre on my arm is decreasing as gradually as it had filled. I have to end this... in the most batshit crazy way I can think of.

I get closer to Süt, using quick short wing bursts to inch nearer and nearer. It’s agony, the sparks flying everywhere, using every single iota of strength to push forward. My efforts aren’t in vain, however: my advancing towards Süt causes the lightning to push back the flames more and more. The charge metre is about two-thirds emptied, but I still keep pushing. Süt looks taken by surprise, and pushes harder; but, like me, he’s also tired of keeping this up.

Thank heavens for the relatively large rock that smacks Süt square in his bulbous yellow eye at Mach three speed levels.

The dragon’s pain from having his orbital socket smashed is what does him in. Süt’s flames diminish as he roars in anguish, a bit of blood leaking from where the rock struck him. The lightning blast from my arm cannon enters Süt’s mouth and floods his whole body, ripping at him from the inside out. I observe through tired eyes as bits and pieces of Süt are torn off by the current of electricity. Red blood turns black as it sprinkles the dirt of the volcanic badlands, a gorey obsidian rainfall that chills magma, moistens soil, and turns clear springs into inky pools of blood water.

Süt, upper body void of all but his charred bones, slams into the ground, said bones cracking and breaking upon the shards of his scales. A monstrous thud booms dramatically throughout the land, leaving. But it’s not like I can really hear it: my attack had practically destroyed my eardrums.

Metre empty of any charge, the metal of the cannon shift and turn until they revert back to my arm again. The gem, once filled with light and brimming with energy, is now lacklustre and unshining. I had used the last of my charge in just one swift action.

It was worth it... I’ll say that much.

Weak and lethargic as I am, I still make my way to the ship, the deck vacant of my friends sans Mat, who cheers and whistles as I fly to the airship at a snail’s pace.

What an idiot I am, forgetting that our ship has a barrier.

I bump into aforementioned impediment, the field nudging me back. I still keep trying to enter, but with each attempt, my vision grows darker and blurrier, and my movements become more sluggish and clumsy. Four tries seem to do me in, because I suddenly just lose function over my wings, numb and desensitised from how both magically and physically exhausted I am.

My vision blacks out, and I plummet, prepared to join Süt on the earth in what would be my grave.

The last things I can feel are the wind and a pair of claws grabbing me.

XXVII - Scaly Surprises

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXVII - Scaly Surprises

It’s quite terrifying to see someone’s life hanging in the balance between living and dying when you can’t do anything about it. It brings on a more heightened feel of anxiety when you can change it. As though one little push, one minuscule involvement—regardless of if it being direct or not—can determine whether someone lives, or someone dies.

Trust me when I say that I’ve been in enough life or death situations to know what I’m talking about. The foundation of life is a very, very fragile thing. We should take heed and protect our lives from those that wish to jeopardise it. We have to fight tooth and nail for it, running on adrenaline and instinct in order to sometimes just barely make it out in one piece.

Why is that? That people choose to put someone’s life in danger? For money? Vengeance? Survival? For the hell of it? Possibly. My knowledge in psychology is not really advanced enough to know the answer to these questions.

As a matter of fact, the things I know myself are absolutely pathetic compared to the knowledge that is contained in the world, the infinite libraries of wisdom and intellect hidden within this planet just waiting to be discovered.

But no more of my monotone: you must be positively bored. Let’s get back to our story, eh?

Let’s see.... where was I?... Ah, yes: the smiting of the black dragon Sut, and my incapacitation from that bizarre arm cannon attack.

I awake atop a hard bed, my spine and neck feeling sore. I could only really open my eyes and see what goes about in... wherever I was. My vision, at first, was blurry and disoriented. After a few seconds, my sight clears up, and I can observe that I’m in a square room the size of a hospital room, sans the medical machinery and sadistic doctors. A desk, complete with a chair and a lit oil lantern, sits on one corner of the room. A door out of here resides on my left, the bed I’m in placed in the back right corner, a circular window on my right. Ellipsis is hanging above my head by two mismatched coat hangers, the blade reflecting and shimmering in the luminance of the lantern.

Am I on the airship?

It’s hard to feel either my legs, wings, or arms: they are far too numb to function correctly. But I get in a sitting position. I rub my eyes, yawn, and crack any joints I can. I gradually regain the feeling in my limbs as I get up and walk towards the door.

For some odd and unknown reason that lacks an explanation, I don’t open the door all on my own.

I suddenly get the feeling that my body is connected to marionette strings, the puppeteer controlling me from locations unknown. “What the-?” I try and resist this sensation of being dragged forth through the hallways, but no go: I look like a robotic zombie as I traipse through the phlorescent bulb-lit halls, the way my arms are raised and my legs commit a fast, albeit abrupt walking motion. “AH! Buddha! Allah! John Cena! Saaave meee!”

...What? I was a nervous sleepy wreck, I didn’t have time to go into theistic details.

I go up two levels of stairs and make my way to the deck of the airship, where... currently everyone is laughing at me. Mat, looking especially giggly as well, has a weird look in his eyes, which are glowing a faint blue. No one else seems to be doing anything, in terms of magic, and Mat’s eye sockets never glowed before.

“Mat?! Stop it this instant!” My wings start fanning out now, and I hover against my will into the ceiling, my head rubbing against it roughly. “I’m serious!” I leer maliciously at him, and that seems to do the trick.

“Oh, alright! Spoilsport.” Mat’s eyes stop glowing, and I regain control of my own body.

Sadly, I’m not prepared to break my fall, so I crash into Mat’s foliage of hair. This dramatically disturbs the bats in his leafy afro, and they burst out, swirling around us in panic. I pathetically climb out of the Ent’s hair and plop unceremoniously onto the deck of the ship. “Oof! Now, what th’ hell was that all about, Mat?”

“Well, you know those figs I fed you all?” Mat begins, a mischievous smile on his wooden face.

“Wait... where is tree going with this?” asked Mercutio, suspicion creeping in his voice.

“I had spiked those things with a little bit of... mind control magic.” I blinked at his confession. Mind control is almost impossible in reality: rumours about being able to possess a man have been flung hither and thither in society, but they’ve all been debunked. But in terms of magical fantasy, in a place such as Equestria, the capability of controlling one’s mind sounds feasible. However, I would need more proof.

“You expect us to believe a pile of crap like that?” contradicted Osiris, skepticism peppered in his tone. Mat’s eye sockets flared blue again. Osiris suddenly got onto his back paws, crossed his claws over on another in front of him, and started doing the Gangnam Style. That’s obscene: he doesn’t know that dance. Hell, I don’t even think he can dance: he sure as hell had four left paws when we were distracting Sut. “What the f-? Damn it, you big hunk of wood, what are you doing?!” wails the griffin as his claws are placed on his hips and his paws sweep back and forth, sliding gradually to the left. “Alright, alright, you win! Now knock it off!”

“Certainly.” Mat’s eyes stopped glowing their azure colour, and Osiris wobbled precariously on one paw before plopping onto his stomach with an unpleasant thump. “Do you believe me now?” Everyone else nods quickly, their actions giving them the appearance of disturbed bobbleheads.

“...How long was I unconscious?” I finally query.

“Not by much,” answers Fancypants. “Only an hour or two.”

I look outside. The smoke and ash that painted the atmosphere black was replaced by the pristine cleanliness of blue skies and white fluffy clouds. Grass and monolithic mountains were in the place of the molten stone and mammoth volcanoes of the Wastelands. “Well, where are we on th’ map?”

“We are currently... south of Fillydelphia,” Fleur responds as she ganders long and analytically out to the horizon. “We should be there in about an hour or so.”

“Whoa...” Kaileena comments, astonishment momentarily grasping her. “How do you know that?”

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, darling,” she says, pointing at the sun, which was halfway through its mickle sojourn across the sky. “See that city out there?” We lean out and peer towards where Fleur points her dainty snow-white hoof. We can barely see a tremendous grey mass of houses and buildings that we can just barely get a glimpse off due to the distance. “That’s Fillydelphia. Me and Fancypants travel there every now and again.” She then glances at Fancypants, a smile of reminiscence of their moments in the aforementioned city being stitched upon their lips. “Remember, Fancy?”

“It’s a magnificent city, it is,” concurs the male unicorn, nodding earnestly as he returns the glance to his... wife? Marefriend? I’m not sure, I’ll have to ask.

Once I do pop the question, the both of them say in unison, “Why, we’re just best friends, of course.”

Fleur’s head tilts in wonder as she looks at me with a befuddled expression. “Wait, you honestly believed me and Fancy were engaged?"

“Yep,” I admit. “Hell, I once thought a while ago that th’ two o’ ya were siblings.”

That earns me a laugh from both the aristocratic ponies. “Oh, such an imaginative concept!” snortles Fancypants, flicking off a tear of mirth from his eye. Fleur titters into her hoof, nodding in agreement with her unicorn companion.

A spark of paranoia flickers in me, striking the oil of grief and setting it off in a blaze of self-concern. Slightly affected by the laughter of the two, I get up and stretch, my body still sore from the fight. “Listen, I’m gonna explore th’ ship a wee bit. Anyone wanna come with?” Only Kaileena appears to raise her hand; everyone else politely declines the offer, loafing about on the floor as they discuss what their plans were once they get to Fillydelphia.

Kaileena gets up and walks with me as I amble over to one of the entrances. “So, what is there ta this ship that ya guys found?” I question as we descend the few flights of stairs.

“We found some rather interesting stuff,” she answers once we pass through the hallways of the sleeping quarters. “These sleeping quarters, kitchens, mess hall, greenhouse, huge gems to keep the ship powered, cockpit, armoury–”

“Wait,” I interject, thrown off by what she had said earlier. Something was a wee bit off about that list of things. “What was that last one?”

“Armoury?”

“No, before that.”

“Wait, cockpit?” Kaileena snickers momentarily. “It’s a funny word, huh?”

“Yes, it– I mean, no, that’s not it!” I sigh, frustration gradually getting the better of me. “Ya said something about gems? How they keep th’ ship airborne?”

“Oh!” The look of one who had just received a splendid epiphany strikes her face as she then grabs my hand and pulls me through the halls. “Let me show you where it is!” she exclaims, euphoria in her voice as we start plummeting down the stairs. Heat starts barraging my face when I look down at my hand. She isn’t holding it in a way to show direction and lead me on; she’s holding it in an intimate manner, palms compressed together tightly as her slender fingers curled along the back of my hand, clutching tightly to it. Just the thought of what the Bast could be thinking in that pretty little head of hers makes my cheeks flare a hotter temperature.

...I just called her pretty, didn’t I?

No mind had been paid the entire time we sojourned to our destination. I just realise that we have stopped going down the stairs, and are standing in front of a set of double doors. I look down and still see Kaileena holding my hand still. “Kai?” I start, a little anxious from her behaviour.

“Hmm?” she hums rather dreamily.

“You can, uh... let go o’ me hand now.”

She snaps out of whatever reverie she had plunged into. “O-oh, right. Sorry.” She relinquishes her grip on my hand, yet the look on her face showed some reticence as she does so.

“‘S alright, love.” I only understand what I just said about two seconds later when I look to the girl at my side. Kai’s eyes go wider than dinner plates in her head as she stares at me in shock, her cheeks burning the colour of fire.

Awkward silence cloaks us, neither of us daring to speak even a syllable. Palpable as the tension between us is, I finally take the opportunity to cut through it. “So, um–”

“I’ll get the door,” she says, not hesitating in swinging the doors ajar and entering first.

“Yeah, thanks.”

‘Awkwaaard.’

Yeah, yeah, Brain, like you were any help.

I could feel my eyes growing in size at the incredulity of the room’s contents once I step in. Like the TARDIS, or a Pokèball, every room on this ship must be bigger on the inside, for this one was as large as a common room. Two rotund gems, one red and one blue, each about three meters in circumference, rotate upon a set of pedestal-like holders, magic leylines of energy swirling and surging out from the stones to their holders. The duo of magical boulders illuminate much of the entire room, a myriad of flame and ice dancing along the walls and ceiling.

All sense of discomfort had been eviscerated since I came in. “Wow... those are huge,” I comment in astonishment. I examine the environment some more: some crates are piled up in two opposite corners of the room, with three metallic crates being in one corner, and eight wooden in the other. Multicoloured feathers litter the ground in front of one, as does a thick crimson liquid that looks eerily like blood. In front of the metal boxes are a few loitering eggshells, empty of the hatchlings that they shielded from the contamination of the outside world.

Normally, I’d pass both piles of crates off as chickens being born, raised, then slaughtered. Only... one problem: the shells aren’t normal. At all. Some are spotted, some stripped, others plain different hues. Also... they’re about the size of dustbin lids.

...

Yes, I’m being serious. No, I’m not pulling your leg.

“Whoa...” I drone, the toxin of curiosity rushing through my bloodstream. “Wicked....” I approach the metal crates with egg shells sprinkled around them, and put my hands out to open up all three of them. Searing hot is the crate’s metal as it burns my right hand in a brief instant of contact, leaving the other unharmed. “Ow!” I yelp loudly, flailing my right fleshy hand in the vain hopes of cooling it off.

“Damien, you’d better be careful,” Kaileena warns me as I summon Ellipsis from the sleeping quarters. It takes longer than calling it from the Abyss, since it is only my second time doing it (the first time was back in Stalliongrad with Khajiit and his entourage, remember?), but the large dark scythe appears successfully in my hand with a blinding glint of light. Cocking back my arm, I swing, and jam the blade in between the metallic container and its lid before prying it open as simply as I would with a crowbar.

Intense warmth rises forth from the inside of the metal crate. Me and Kaileena peer close enough inside and see that the bottom of the crate is filled with magma. That’s right, magma. Like from a bloody volcano. The molten puddle of fire pools inside the crate, swirling and bubbling. How such hot rock hasn’t melted a hole in the ship is an enigma that I’m in no mood to solve; besides, I’m still deciphering the answer to that egg one already.

I repeat the same with the second crate. Same result as the first one: all magma, but with some egg shells sprinkled inside.

“Third time’s th’ charm,” I mutter as I wiggle off the lid to the third crate. There’s magma like the other two, yet there is more. Much more. Eggs the size of pillows were nestled inside the molten slag, each shell being multicoloured and designed in a peculiar fashion.

“Whoa.” Kaileena’s eyes widened at the chance encountering of these eggs, despite the heat that ought to be irritating her. “What do you think these kind of eggs are?”

“No idea,” I comment. “If I had ta guess... these look like dragon eggs.”

“Dragon?”

“Looks like it. Size, colour, intense heat ta keep ‘em warm.”

“Should we get the others?”

*CRACK!*

One by one, the mammoth eggs commence cracking and splitting ever-so-slowly, minuscule chips of eggshells dropping piece by piece into their incubating magma. “I, uh, don’t think we have th’ time ta get th’ others, Kai.”

~End of Chapter XXVII~

Shadow's Farewells to This Fic

*Applause from the audience as a Libyan teenager of sixteen takes the stage, dressed in naught but a white shirt, leather jacket, and dark blue jeans, a bullet necklace with his name in Arabic engraved in it as he itched his chin-strap beard, his bespectacled eyes scanning over the audience carefully.*

Hello, guys. ShadowWeaver here with some... er, dire news.

*Mumbling of concern sprinkles across the audience as they wonder what he will say.*

This story is rubbish, and I'm cancelling it.

*Simultaneous gasps of shock!*

No, I mean it.

*A few women, and even a man, faint in their seats at ShadowWeaver's words of self-animosity!*

Well... correction. It's not that this story isn't good, it's pretty damn nice, in my opinion as a writer.

*The crowd collectively tilts their heads in confusion*

However, I'm still cancelling it. For a pretty good reason, might I add: Not only are none of the Chess Game of the Gods writers even following one another's stories to help correct errors in canon, but they just don't give a shit, and so it's just descended into chaos and OP characters that USED to be good, mine included.

So believe me when I say that my dislikes are skyrocketing and my favourites are plummeting harder than the Titanic on 8x fast-forward speed.

Yes, I'm taking it out on all of you, Chess Fic authors. And me.

You see, I used to have fun with this fic, praying to God every night that someone, anyone, would want to do a crossover with Damien and his balls-off-the-walls chronicles, from saving villages, to slaughtering monsters, to getting shitty luck. I was excited to post this story to you guys in the vain hopes that it would please most of you off the bat. Sure, a lot of people disliked it for good reasons or for reasons unknown (leave comments so I can check myself before I wreck myself next time!) But hey, I had fun, and that was what mattered... at first.

Unfortunately, that fun, that sheer desire, is dead. Much like a candlelight in a tsunami.

For those of you who actually gave a damn about this fic, I'm so terribly sorry to have dashed your dreams for an update that now you and I both know will never come again. However, there is a little silver lining for you Chess Game writers/readers.

*Audience raises their brows in unison.*

I am willing to allow anyone to use Damien & Co. in their CGotG fanfics. But... one rule, and one rule only.

Don't be a fucking prick when you use him. No embarrassing shit, no stupid half-assed answers, and no straying from canon. Sure, let him date Kaileena. Sure, let him be frenemies with Osiris and have them get on each other's nerves. Yes, let Fancypants and Fleur de Lis and Mercutio all try and bond with that wacky Irish Devil Imp you all know and sort of love. But try and utilise him in moderation. Make him an okay character: strengths and weakness. Please... I beseech you.

*Heartbroken entourage smiles slightly at this possibility that ShadowWeaver was unveiling to them.*

If you guys want to use him, please message me about it and tell me the details and the fic you're writing so that I can watch over your progress and commit myself to clean up your mess. So, here's a spoiler for anyone in Trottingham: Damien's newly-acquired airship crashes into the outskirts of town... because baby dragons are hungry little bastards when they're hatched.

So, with that little hint in mind, I say "Sayonara" to all of you.

Pull the lever, Kronk.

"Gotcha."

*CLUNK!*

*A trapdoor opens up beneath ShadowWeaver's feet, and being the filthy teen-beta that he is, he descends down the chute of the trapdoor at rapid speeds.*

WRONG LEVEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRR!

Author's Note

BTW: The Krabby Patty secret formula is

I - Deans And Pencils

Leather-Winged Oddity

I - Deans And Pencils

Would you take it?

If you had been given a chance to visit Equestria, the most magnificent land in fictional history... would you take it?

God and everyone else knows I would; why else was I constantly harrassed and bullied for being--

"GET BACK HERE, YA PONY-LOVIN' FREAK!!!"

...Well, sans the "freak" part, yeah, that. Let's face it: I had been hooked on the show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic since my second year of college, when the show first aired. And because of that, rather than leaving me alone, the ignorant schmucks that roam the college grounds like they run it enjoy hunting me down and making me want to suffer, all because I'm an 'animated equine enthusiast'; even the nerds catch better breaks than me. The bully and his two-man crew of oppressing krauts are, as we speak, chasing me around the gym the same way a trio of ugly cats would chase a mouse.

You'd think I'd be spared every single time I went to school. But no, God and the Universe just love to do this kind of shit to me. Although... there was that ONE time me and a few friends got drunk, and I got the Legend of Zelda insignia tattooed to my back. While it hurt like Hell, I guess the overall result counts as an upside.

But alas, here I am, running for my life from three large gorillas wearing tacky "gangsta" clothes around a large room that was designed for the slaughtering of several weaklings via many a dodgeball.

But I have to be careful. I didn't know shit about fighting, sans the occasional bar fight I would get in every now and then: I was always an indoor kid, who either tries to use fighting moves he's seen in Chinese martial arts movies, fighting games like the Street Fighter series, Mortal Kombat, and True Crime, or runs away like a pansy for fear of getting his ass handed to him. However, my one (and perhaps only) advantage is my stamina, which I apparently have a ton of: I timed myself once when these three humanoid bullies chased me around the school's football stadium; I managed to run around the whole place twice in about thirty-four seconds.

Granted, I got the shit kicked out of me by the third lap, but still. This proves that I'm faster than I look, and that I have more stamina than the trio of steroid-induced mini-Hulks (So... does their great power come with great Roid rage or small testicles?).

But after the first few minutes, I begin running out of steam: I know that because the lead bully, Josh, and his gang were getting slowly, yet eerily, closer, like fleshy, heat-seeking missiles. I realize that the source of my rapid decrease in stamina was my unreasonably large backpack. After taking it off in mid-run and throwing it to my best friends Marcus (African American, hazel eyes, black hair and small goatee, 198 centimetres, scrawny build, has glasses and dresses classy) and Natasha (Caucasian, blue eyes, short bleached hair, 165 centimetres, skinny body, several piercings, loves all things punk and hardcore), I feel the heavy weight of the shoulder straps leave me.

"RUN, DAMIEN, RUN!!!" Natasha screams at me as Marcus caught my bag, almost stumbling from its weight.

"Well, no shit, woman, what d'ya think I'm trying ta do?!" I shriek back at her, only for her to look at me in irritation.

"Just shut up," Marcus roars, "AND RUN!"

"JUST WAIT 'TIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU FUCKING IRISH FAGGOT!!!" Josh bellows.

"Awww, is it about that pincushion incident?!" I scream behind me. "Get over it, ya big baby!" I turn my head back forward, laughing like a devil released from Hell to torment the innocent. Josh growls and tries to keep up, as do his other two lackeys.

I know that it won't end well... at all... ever, but c'mon: tricking him into sitting on a chair covered in cushion-concealed thumbtacks? I thought that was totally worth it.

Plus, he deserved it for that football stadium incident I just told you about, as well as tormenting my little brother... again....

Several minutes pass, with many of the students either pointing and laughing at me, cheering on the three bullies, or simply doing nothing. Just when I thought I have run them dry of their stamina, though, I feel something yank the collar of my favorite Princess Luna shirt, and I'm pulled down to the floor. Laughter from almost everyone in the gym room rings in my ears. Josh stands over my face, knees buckled to prepare the dreaded teabag.

"This's gonna suck for you, fag," he said in his gruff and nasty voice. No, seriously, he sounded obese and gross.

And so it begins: one, two, three, four, up, down, up, and down again. I think, to them, this is some sort of sick entertainment for this trio of jackasses and the many peers around us. It's sickening, really, to watch some muscly meathead lower his family jewels above your head for your eyes to get a front row seat of.

Seriously... we're in college, and he's behaving like an eighth-grader? Goodness gracious....

"Hey, laddy, yer fly's undone," I say. Josh looks down to check his pants zippers, and, falling for my trap, he receives a violent punch in the groin from me. I hear a nasty cracking sound the second my fist made contact, and he almost squeaks from the pain. I quickly get up from off of the floor. Before I know it, several of the students start making a ring around me and the three bullies, chanting "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

A note to you all before the battle begins: for normal people, when it's a one-on-one fight, each person isn't bothered by any distraction or any other obstructions in the middle of the fight. That way, they can give their undivided attention to the person in front of them. However, when it's a three-on-one fight, the lone fighter has to pay attention to all three attackers at once, otherwise, when he's fighting someone, he'll leave himself open for someone else.

And yet. that is completely me. I could be able to handle at least one guy, maybe two if I'm really lucky. But three is asking for too much.

Still, though... I should be on my toes... or at least convince someone to shout "FIRE!" and disband the circle of college students.

Josh is the first to sail in, ready to give me a right hook, only for me to duck to dodge it and send a few quick, yet strong jabs into his stomach. He rockets his knee into my gut, sending me reeling back slightly. He rushes me and rockets his fist into my nose, and the sound of something breaking registers in my ears. A nauseating shock of pain rocks my face, and I feel blood dribbling down my chin from my bloodied nose. In retaliation, I give him two vicious hook shots and an uppercut to the face before I sail in to send him a haymaker to the throat, striking him right in his Adam's Apple. I give him a strong kick in the chest and send him back. He clutches his throat and coughing viciously, out for the count.

The second troll-like crony, Mike, is up next, preparing to send a punch to the face. I duck again and send a flurry of rapid jabs to his chest and stomach. He catches my arm, however, and punches me in the armpit, the unexpected and really weird attack leaving me stunned. He did it again, hitting me in the armpit until my arm almost dislocated from my shoulder. Playing dirty, I bite down hard on his forearm and shake my head, like a rabid dog, until blood is drawn. Mike screams in agony and removes my face from his forearm. With that, I quickly go back to attacking him with jabs and straights, while doing my best to dodge his brutish swings, which are now slowed down by my dirty trick. He gets frustrated that I'm evading his strikes and hitting back to only disorient and tire him. Before long, he is panting heavily from the quick straight punches I had been sending his way. Seeing that as the opportune moment to bring the final blow, I lift my foot and bring the heel into his cheek. He stumbles into the crowd, screaming something about a broken jaw.

The third and final kraut remaining, Brandon, reaches into his pocket and whips out an ebony-handled Balisong with a four-inch blade, the steel blade glinting in the light.

Wait, back up. What the hell is doing with a Balisong?! This may be a college, but it's still illegal to bring a knife here! Is this guy fucking nuts?!

...On second thought, don't answer that.

Brandon came at me with the knife, my senses and motor skills working overtime to avoid getting stabbed or slashed for the umpteenth time. While I occasionally throw in a punch here and there, I mainly focus on evading the edge and sharpened swedge of the blade. When Brandon comes in to stab me, however, I trip over my shoelaces and stumble slightly. With a wicked grin, Brandon charges and socks me in the right eye, my window to the soul closed shut with pain and a severe bruising. He swipes at me with the butterfly knife, and I feel more blood seep out from a newly formed gash on my left cheek.

"Ah! Shit!" The cut burns like acid, and it takes a lot of my willpower to remain focused rather than tend to my wounds immediately.

"You're mine, now!" When Brandon swipes again, I sidestep, grab his wrist, and twist it on my way to get behind him. Grabbing his Balisong from him with my free hand, I launch my elbow onto his twisted arm, and a sick, satisfying sound comes out. I kick his back and send him into the crowd as he clutches his broken arm with his working one, crying out in pain.

As I flip and fan the Balisong - which I now declare mine - like the Spy from Team Fortress 2, I realise what I had done. I had severely injured three people. Hell, I could have killed them. While I should've felt guilty... It felt... good. Especially because these pricks deserve it. Sure, the brony creed says to love and tolerate, but in their cases, they deserve none of that.

In other words, their annihilation was unavoidable.

Natasha and Marcus are the only two cheering for me. Everyone else is too flabbergasted to react.

"Daaamn, Damien!" Marcus says, putting down my gargantuan backpack. "You bleedin' everywhere, dawg!"

"No kiddin'," I comment, reaching into my backpack and pulling out a napkin I carry in a plastic bag of its own. I rip the napkin in twain and use both halves to plug my nostrils and staunch the blood flow. A second napkin is used by Natasha to mop up the remaining blood on my face.

"You really must be more careful, Damien," she says.

"Yeah, I know... thank ya."

"Hold on, I'ma get'chu some ice." Marcus runs off to get to the kitchens of the cafeteria and retrieve some ice from the soda dispenser. The crowd lets him through, and disperses once more, leaving just the three blubbering bullies, me, and Natasha by ourselves. Members of the audience mumble amongst themselves: little snippets here and there reach my ears. Things like "so unfair", "waste of my time", and "I call shenanigans" are registered and comprehended by my brain.

"Here ya go, homie." Marcus returns with a handful of frozen cubes and puts them in several more of my napkins to prevent leaking. He hands the makeshift icepack to Natasha, who applies it to my right black eye.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, sweet fuck, that hurts, ow." The searing cold the ice emanates when it makes contact with my eye almost makes me knock it out of Natasha's hands from both discomfort and slight pain. She presses the icepack onto my eye even harder, causing me to wince. "Ow! Easy, would ya?"

"Oh, quit complaining. It could have been a lot worse, no?" She gives me the icepack to hold over my blackened eye, and I keep it there to lower the swelling. The discomfort soon evaporates, and I sigh a breath of relieve.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!"

"Oh, shit," we say simultaneously.

Every single student in the vicinity stops what they were doing and turns around to face who had spoken as the entire room becomes freakishly silent. When I say every student, I mean every student, even those goth kids that sit in the bleachers all day, flipping off teachers and smoking cigarettes while they talk about how everyone must die, black metal, or some other dark, depressing subject like that. I, being the last one to look around, quickly flip the butterfly knife closed and pocket it before following in everyone's stead. The very reason why everyone had turned around is made apparent when I look at the speaker.

At the gates of the gym is a small army of teachers and staff members, but leading the crew of teachers is a woman. Dressed in a navy blue button-up blouse, skirt, and heels, she ranges at about 170 centimetres (or 67 inches), several centimetres below my 191 cm. Her blue eyes, decorated with Egyptian-styled kohl, seem to pierce my soul like daggers would a body. Crescent moon earrings accent her ears and a star necklace rests on her large chest, her navy hair laying flat across her back. Her lips, which are decorated with blue lipstick, are turned in a small scowl.

Looking at her was all I needed to know that this woman held my education's fate in her hands.

I think this is supposed to be the temporary dean for the one who had gotten too sick to come today. But the strange thing, though, is that no one's seen her before... yet she seems slightly familiar to me... maybe I saw her in a book or a

Oh, and did I mention she's hotter than hell? And I mean pornstar hot. The skintight clothes that outline her hourglass body, thin face, voluptuous chest, narrow waist, thick thighs....

I'd put herin detention.

No! Down, boy! Siiiit.... stay.

"Damien started it, ma'am!" Josh points an accusing finger at me. That snaps me out of my raunchy reverie.

Again, we're acting like little kids tattling on one another? Really?

"Ya little bitch!" I shout at him.

"Enough!" the substitute teacher shoots at us both. "You." She points at me, then jabs a thumb at the doors behind her. "Come with me." She pushes through the teachers and walks outside of the gym, waiting for me to follow. "And someone take those three boys to the nurse!"

"Well, you're boned," Marcus comments... before getting elbowed in the ribs by Natasha.

"Hey! Don't be rude!" She looks at the tall black man with an expression of agitation. Marcus flinches.

"No, he's right." I pick up my backpack, sling it over my back, and follow the teacher to the office... and to my educational doom.

I dunno, maybe I can work at a McDonald's or something. I could poke fun at fat people all day with subtle, under-the-radar things like "Sorry about your weight."

...Ahem... sorry 'bout that. Moving on.

As we walk through the hallways to her office, half of me is full of fear. What is she gonna do to me? While the other half... is a little hopeful.

What is she gonna do to me?

Damn it, Brain, stop being stuck in the gutter so much.

What? She's hot-to-trot, I can't help it.

When we reach the dean's office, a typical office with a desk, an expensive-looking computer, a chair, file cabinets, and a few motivational pictures on the walls, she sits in her chair behind the desk, turns around, and looks up at me. Her scowl soon melts away into a small, yet warm smile. She motions for me to take a seat, which I oblige to. "I saw what you did. Why did you do it?"

Oh crap...

"I did what I did because they started it first. They were bullyin' me once more fer having an unpopular opinion an' liking o' something that several people dislike. Thus, sensing that I was th' odd one out, they tried ta get me first." I want to take back my words the moment I say them, for she looks at me through narrow eyes, and I felt her eyes pierce me once again, but with more power now, since my armour of will dissipated the second she and I crossed paths. I gulp and steel myself for the worst.

"Alright... well, I have to admit... what you did back there? Not bad. Not bad at all."

"Um... thanks?" Her wordstaken by surprise by the compliment. Isn't she gonna punish me?

And by punish, you mean-

SHADDAP, BRAIN!

OKAY, OKAY!

"You're welcome." The mysterious, yet eerily familiar dean opens up a cabinet filled with the files of the students here. "What is your name?"

"Damien O'Connor," I answer. She begins thumbing through the files until she finds what appears to be one with my name on it. She pulls it out and opens it. She reaches a hand to her breast pocket and pulls out a pair of reading glasses. After she put them on, she examins my files.

"Damien O'Connor. Born in 1990. In his fourth and final year of Colorado State University. A's and B's in Advanced Calculus, Psychology, Biology, and English." I smile sheepishly. "It appears you've got a rather clean slate. So I want you to be aware that I will not tolerate this ever again, so count this as your first and final warning, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," I say nervously. She puts away the file after writing down something indiscernible in it. She looks at me, then her eyes travel downward until they came to rest on my shirt. She silently reads the writing on it before looking back at me with a small smile.

"I take it you're one of them?" She asks. This question also catches me off guard.

"Er... what're ya talkin' about?" I say nervously.

"Oh, come on, that shirt's a dead giveaway," the dean reasons. I facepalm at my foolishness. "Besides, if it helps, I guess I should tell you that I am one myself."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone. She's a brony?! Well, pegasister, really, but that's beside the point!

"Have you ever wanted to go there?" She then asks. This, once again, takes me by surprise. She must be talking about Equestria. What're you saying, Damien? Of course she's talking about Equestria! She's a pegasister, for fuck's sake! I guess that's why she looks a hell of a lot like Princess Luna (who, in my book, is best pony), now that I think about it.

"O' course, ma'am," I answer honestly. Seriously, any brony worth his salt would want to go to Equestria, home of the ever-famous Mane Six and many more.

But alas, I hang my head in sadness: everyone knows that travelling across the cosmic ocean to another universe - one that doesn't even exist, no less - is impossible. Even I know this.

"Have you thought about what you want to go there as?" The dean inquires.

What was she getting at? She's asking me these bloody questions as if she has a one-way ticket to Equestria! And while that would be nice, that's still not possible. But still, I might as well humor her. "In all honesty, ma'am, I'm not exactly sure. But now that ya mentioned it, I wanna be able to go as a bipedal, not a quadruped, because walking on four legs would be a hindrance. I also want to be able to fly as well, maybe even have a weapon for self-defense while I was at it." I smirk. "But everybody knows that travelling from one real universe to another nonexistent universe can't be done."

The dean only smiles cunningly, like she knows something about that theory that I don't know. "I beg to differ, my boy."

...wait, what?

"For you see, Damien," she continues as she picks up a pencil from off the desk. "In order for it to happen..." the pencil suddenly glows in a bright blue aura, making me freak out. But I'm too petrified from shock and a smattering of fear to even leave my spot. What is she doing?!"...all you need..." she cocks the pencil back, her right index finger on the tip, the right thumb underneath it in the middle, and the left index finger on the eraser end. ...UH-OH."...is just a little bit of magic." She fires the pencil directly at my face.

Time seems to slow down while the pencil made its destination to my face, and one thought runs in my head the whole while. SHE'S NOT YOUR AVERAGE COSPLAYER.

The pencil hits me, right in between the eyes.

...

Note to self: temporary deans that make pencils glow apparently have the ability to make said pencil have the strength of a wrecking ball.

... at least, that's what I try to note to myself before the power of the abnormal writing utensil sends me flying into the wall behind me like a bull had just rammed me, causing me to crash into it and almost break through the drywall. I slump down on the ground and feel so unequivocally lightheaded and exhausted. My chin hits my chest, and I begin losing consciousness.

But before I succumb to the darkness that clouds my vision, I hear seven final words.

"Welcome to the Game, my little pawn."

Author's Note

Is this thing on? It is? Okay, good.

Well, I've done some editing with this chapter. I hope that this doesn't appear too generic to you all. I really hope. Also, reading this? Made me feel awkward as hell. So... yeah. Hope this edited chapter suits you all.

Visions of the Future (X): Elegy of Warfare

Leather-Winged Oddity

Visions of the Future (X): Elegy of Warfare

"Do not fear the enemies that lay before you... for you are one of many who will save us all."

This isn't the average war.

No... this is both Hell and Tartarus breaking loose.

These shadow-like entities, these... shades... they won't stop coming.

And the battle that Damien the Devil Imp, Skeleton Jack the Goddess, Kaileena and Khajiit "Jack" the Basts, and Zeta Chi the Cynogriffin are fighting makes the Trojan War look like two old ladies fighting over a fruitcake.

"Damien, watch out!" Skeleton Jack shouts to Damien as they battle through the fields in the dead of night. Rather than glance to his right because of his missing right eye, now cladding a black eyepatch, he turns his whole head to the right to see an oncoming shade ready to attack him. He quickly thrusts his left open hand and grabs it by the throat, his whole arm being of a powerful metal. With a grunt of exertion, the magic of the topaz on the back of his hand surged through the arm and affected the shade with terawatts of heartstopping lightning energy, causing the shade to burst into black mist. Jack grabs Rift with her right and only hand and throws it at the next cluster of shades. Rift spins through the air like a deadly boomerang, slashing and shredding the shades into the same nothingness as before. Jack summons the blade back to her and grabs Rift again by the handle.

"Kaileena, on your left!" Khajiit shouts. Kaileena strokes one of her swords and kills the next few shades in the middle with one swing. Khajiit runs up to Kaileena, who crouches low as he jumps off of her back and stabs the next shade in the throat with the concealed blade of his prosthetic arm, right before the shade could touch the female Bast.

However, she doesn't see the next shade coming behind her.

Damien rushes at the shade and slices its head off with Ellipsis. "Stay away from me wife, ya nasty fucker!"

"C'mon, everyone!" Kaileena roars at us. "We need to get to New Canterlot, now!"

Indeed they must. LordCaptain Griffin and Sir Aoi had mailed them earlier that every single Chess Piece was needed at New Canterlot: Apparently, High-General Knightmare's ship, the Ragnarok, had been inconceivably trashed, and that the several crew members were maimed, beaten, bruised, and what have you. The rebuilt city is currently under attack by the shades, just like they are now.

"That, I can understand, but the only problem is that these Goddamn shades are poppin' out of the ground like fucking daisies!" Zeta shouts at the Bast after he rips out the proverbial throat of one shade and slashes another. If this kept up, they'd be nowhere near our goal.

That's when the most brilliant, yet craziest idea hits Damien like a sledgehammer.

"Everyone, grab onto my bandolier!" He hollers at them. They huddle closer to him and do so, not letting up their assault on the shades. He looks at Ellipsis with a wick smile, the light of the now-white gem shining like a beacon. "Inviolabolis! Celeritas!" The light of the gem dims significantly as he enchants them with an invincibility and a haste spell. He takes one last swing at the armada of shades and holds the scythe like a trusty lance.

The others go wide-eyed, "Damien, what the hell are you--" With a flap of his wings, Damien takes off like a raging locomotive, Ellipsis slashing and tearing the enemies to shreds with both the blade and the rendered wind.

"DOIIIIIIIIIIIING?!" They barely cling onto the Devil Imp as he charges through the army of shades.

"SNOOTCH TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN' NOOOOOOTCH!!!!" He wails with a crazy look in his eyes.

'Thank you, Jay and Silent Bob,' He thinks gratefully.

"ABOUT FUCKING TIME WE GO FAST!" Zeta howls ecstatically. "WALKING WITH YOU GUYS WAS TAKING FOREVER!"

"ONWAAAARD!" Damien shouts at the top of his lungs. Almost immediately, a rumbling noise of something rapidly smacking the earth multiple times begins to make itself known. At once, a whole swarm of Diamond Dogs, Bast, ponies, and griffins charge on, doing all in their power to slash, cut, kick, bite, scratch, stab, hack, smash, and destroy the shades that stood in their way.

"YOU CHAPS GO ON AHEAD!" Fancypants shouts. "WE'LL CATCH UP!"

"YEAH!" Vinyl Scratch roars at them. "GO SAVE EQUESTRIA!"

Unbeknownst to them, the Chess Pawns all think the same thing:

'New Canterlot, here we come....'

XXII - I Must Be High... Y'Know, Since I'm Talking To Trees n' Shit....

Shadow: Okay, I just busted my chops in bringing you a semi-decent chapter. When you spot a mistake (WHEN, not IF), please inform me in the comments sections. This chapter will crossover with three fanfictions (OH GOD. ._.): MasterC’s “Nature’s Hand” (which he’s planning on publishing once it’s looked over and approved), and eventually both Dante_Hinomori's fic “Rise of a Reaper” (Same for him) and Oblivion Alarika’s fic (I have no idea what its name is to be, but same goes for him as well)

Enjoy the read, my slaves whelps meatbags friends. Keep calm and never stop ponying on, OK? :)

~Leather-Winged Oddity~

XXII - I Must Be High... Y’know, Since I’m Talking To Trees n’ Shit....

...Ow....

...It feels like some serious deja vu is going on right about now.

Alright, Damien, status report: any broken bones? No. Internal bleeding? Nope. Concussion or brain damage? Nada. The six of us looking like we’ve just had a large orgy? ......................Nah. Who’re you kidding?

But pain?

I don’t know how many times I’ve checked that out in the span time of being conscious for eleven seconds so far; I lost count at twenty-three.

Nevertheless, I ignore the pain and slowly rise to my claws; however, I almost fall back down when I stand up, as my legs seem to have fallen asleep. I plow the bottom of Ellipsis’s shaft into the ground to keep myself on my claws, my legs quaking like jelly in a tremor. I grit my teeth when I start taking small steps, using my makeshift walking staff to help me weakly limp out of this crater I had made on impact with the ground. However, that plan crashes, burns, and dies the second I look up: the crater was about three or four meters high. I’m in no condition to jump, so that other idea is killed. I look around me for a way out, only to find none.

I feel small, like an elephant in a titchy cage. I need freedom, more than anything.

...

Wait a second... I could just fly out.

Ignoring the pain that follows during flight preparation, I pump my wings and become airborne for a few moments before landing sloppily on the ground outside my crater. I look around me, my heart skipping a beat at my environment.

The place I’m in looks... desolate. Like all life was just wiped out, save for a few trees or so. The black dirt beneath my claws feels warm, like a giant omnipotent being is living under us and feeding heat to the planet. The trees, shockingly, have leaves on them still, the green foliage fluttering lazily in the warm current of wind. The sky is painted dark with the smoke and ash that are belched from the volcanoes that are scattered here and there. Small streams of lava leak from the lip of the lone giant volcano, the tears of molten slag and rock glowing a bright vibrant orange.

What’s more, orange flakes, few and widely-dispersed, lazily descend from the skies like snowflakes. I stick out my hand to touch one and grunted loudly in pain as the selected flake seared my skin. I lash my hand back and forth to cool it off. As soon as the hot flake reaches the ground, it dies out a few seconds later.

The sky is raining embers.

I had to be careful. Sure, these falling embers were scarce, but if none of us were careful, the others that came with me -- Kaileena, Fancypants, Fleur, Osiris, and Mercutio -- would all catch fire: they are furry, after all.

The others...

“Guys!” I call as I head back into the giant hole in the ground we had made on impact. “Wake up!” The five of them slowly rise up and shake their heads to rid them of the dizziness, I think.

“Where are we?” Mercutio grumbles as he grabs his spike-ended maul and uses it to secure his stance.

“I think th’ appropriate question is ‘when are we?” I say.

I wish I hadn’t spoken, because as soon as the words leave my mouth, Osiris gets up abruptly, grabs me by the collar and shakes me like I’m a oversized magic 8-Ball. “You crazy bastard!” His deep voice and loud volume make me shiver slightly in fear. “You’ve doomed us all!”

“Get yer filthy hands off me, ya damn dirty dodo!” I roar once I recuperate before placing both my hands around his neck to choke him out and relinquish his grip on me.

Wait... both hands?

I drop Osiris like a ragdoll (“Oof!”) and glance at my left hand, instantly going slack-jawed at what had happened to it. The arm, instead of being wooden and cheap, is instead a very dark grey, almost bordering on black, and appears very expensive. The style of the arm remind me of Edward Elric’s automail arm from Fullmetal Alchemist, sans the hand and shoulder area, which looks like two pauldrons ending in a rather sharp point; the fingers end in clawlike tips, and a bright blue gem that’s bright and humming with power is embedded into the back of my arm. I go to check my chest and, pulling away a white hoodie and scarlet scarf I had mysteriously acquired, see that the metal was even on my torso as well. The center of my chest also has a bright blue gem glowing and whirring with energy, the jewel encircled in the black metal that reaches to my left ribcage, the style much like Tony Stark’s Iron Man suit. More metal is spread over my left shoulder blade, and is all held down by screws to prevent from falling off.

“What.” I say bluntly, my brain failing to make sense of the situation... as if it could make sense.

“Your arm...” Fancypants murmurs as he repairs his now-cracked monocle with his magic. “It’s been replaced.”

“So are your clothes,” comments Fleur.

“........................What.”

“Moreover, your arm moves.” Kaileena walks over and examines it closely, feeling the articulate balance of it. She moves the fingers slightly, creating an unexplainable reaction in me: I could feel her grabbing the arm and moving the fingers. “Whose work is this?”

“True Pariah, me think.” Mercutio strolls over as well to look at the arm.

“........................................................................what.”

“Say ‘what’ again!” Osiris challenges as he stands up on his lion hindlegs and flaps his wings to stabilise his balance. He pulls back the string of his bow and takes aim at my face. A large magical arrow coalesces on the string, ready to be fired at will. “I dare you! I double-dare you, motherfucker!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop!” I say, putting my hands up in defense. I scan my persona for any changes. The white hoodie I’m donned in is tricked out with extra zippers on the inside of the hoodie and on the chest. It’s also stripped of its sleeves all the way to the shoulder. On the back is - you guessed it - another Hylian sigil. However, my old blue hammerspace-wielding backpack is nowhere to be found (Damn it: that had food and other necessities!). I had on black baggy pants, held up with a black studded faux-leather belt. The red scarf around my neck flutters slightly in the warm wind as well, the material being rather soft and silky on my skin, which is now... more tanned than before? Apparently so, because I have gone from a pale vanilla hue to a slightly exotic butterscotch colour. I look at the reflection of my arm for any facial changes: Not only did I gain a slightly longer goatee, but a Sheikah eye was placed over my right eye, the one not scarred from that Diamond Dog attack on the Urukai village.

The heat of this area makes me take off the red scarf due to fear of heat stroke and wrap it around my waist so that I don’t lose it.

When did this all happen?

How did this all happen?

“So where and when are we?”

“Judging by my travels around Equis, I’d say we’re in the Volcanic Wastelands,” answers Osiris. “There are also a few monsters lingering around, usually dragons or something like that, so be on guard.”

“Huh....” I test my arm out and check it for any kinks or bugs. I start with simple stuff, like flexing my fingers and bending my arm. Those check out well. Now for a little bit more difficult things. I windmill my arm in a circular motion, and it goes in a complete circle without hindrance. Next, I get in a fighting stance, the back of my hands facing forward. I throw a punch at the air, my fist twisting through the atmosphere, stopping at the arm’s length, and coming back. This thing is... phenomenal. It’s light, and strong, much like Ellipsis.

Wait... is my arm made of the same metal is my scythe?

How did Pariah find the metal? And just how did he make it so damn perfect?

Moreover, what time are we in? Did that stone pull a TARDIS and just zap us to the future or the past?

Only one way to find out. “Nut?!” I called. “Are ya there, love?!”

“Awww, how sweet. You’re proclaiming your love for me!” Swirling blue mist funnels in front of me, and in a flash, the Egyptian sky deity appeared right before us all, in her beautiful hourglass figure and blue starry attire. “But I’m afraid my husband Geb would be terribly jealous; you are cute, ya know.” Nut fires a wink my way, causing me to blush profusely.

“Wait, what?!” I blurt, mortified heavily. “No, I meant-!”

“Damien, what’s going on?” Kaileena asks. No, not asks... demands. “How do you know her?” Judging by the Bast’s tone of voice, she’s both... upset and saddened? Okay now, where - just where - in the hell do both of those emotions come in?!

“Awwww, you didn’t tell her?” Nut says with a pouting look on her face.

“Tell me ‘what?” Kaileena demands.

“Wait, hold on-!”

“Good grief, I never knew this freak of nature was such a player,” Osiris comments.

“Neither did I,” Fancypants says.

“Little O’Conny-poo here’s got a crush on me~” Nut gushes.

“What?! Now, wait a bloody minute-!”

“You... PIG!” Kaileena punches me in the back of the head from how outraged she is. “I actually had feelings for you, and you gotta start going gaga for some glittery floozy!”

“Floozy?!” Nut reiterates, offended slightly.

‘That’s it! No more!’

The gem on my arm and chest look like they harness tons of magic. I think the word ‘Sonor’ thrice and, once I feel a strange tingling sensation in the back of my throat, I throw my head back.

“SHUUUUUUUT UUUUUUUP!”

My magically-amplified voice is so loud and powerful that it makes the Royal Canterlot Voice sound like someone just stomped on a mouse. The sheer force whips away at the six others like they were caught in a furious tempest. My voice echos tremendously and travels probably miles away from our location. “Are we done?!” I say in a voice so cold, it would’ve turn this volcanic hell into Antarctica. They all nod vigorously. “Good.” I take a moment to deaden my temper, starting with checking my arm and chest gems for any magic loss: not too much, they’re still glowing very brightly. “Kaileena, she’s th’ one who brought me here,” I finally say once my cool has been regained. “And she’s th’ one who gave ya th’ gift o’ seein’ colours.”

“Oh...” The outrage in Kaileena’s voice melts away. “I remember now.”

“Nut, the Goddess of the skies, at your service.” She curtsies.

“Sorry for what I said.” Kaileena rubs her arm in embarrassment and guilt.

“Eh, no worries.” Nut waves a hand, thus dismissing the matter.

“Wait, a goddess?!” Fleur exclaims. Jesus, for a pony from a city of smart wealthy ponies, she’s slower than a tortoise on LSD. “Inconceivable blasphemy! The only goddesses in Equestria are-”

“Princesses Celestia and Luna?” deadpans Nut as she folds her arms on her large bosom in skepticism and unamusement. She was probably thinking the same thing I was. “You really must stop being so close-minded, dearie. There are hundreds - nay, thousands - of us deities running around, zapping people to Equestria to participate in this Chess Game of the Gods that Discord made.”

“Thousands of deities? Chess Game of the Gods? Discord?” Fancypants says. “Lady Nut, could you please inform us more of these topics?’

“Certainly.” Nut starts to slowly pace in a circle around us. “This little tournament, known as Chess Game of the Gods, was started when the Equestrian god of chaos Discord brought a creature known as a human from the planet Earth to this world of Equis. Yet Discord changed his selected human, his ‘Chess Piece’, into something else. The ex-human became a legend in a few short months. You may know him, Damien: his name was-”

“Echo, and he’s a Diamond Dog,” I answer.

“Correct. Another deity heard of what Discord had done, and decided to get in on the action, bringing a human known as Griffin. And then another deity did the same with a changeling known as Knightmare, another for a wolf named Aoi, another for a Bast named Khajiit, another for a Traveler known as Omnius; and so on. this chain of launching people to Equestria went on and on, until all of us came together in a fantastic collision of good and evil to see if our Chess Pieces would come out on top during the End Game.”

“And what’s th’ End Game?”

“That, I can’t reveal. You must discover that yourself.” Nut stops her pacing and turns to face me. “Now, what did you call me for?”

“Oh!” I suddenly remember what I want to talk to Nut about. “Actually, I have a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“One: how did I get all these fancy upgrades? These weren’t here before we were warped in time.”

“Simple. The stone, the Atlamillia, that you struck with your scythe sent you forward into the future, and has applied changes to all your personas in the span time it would’ve taken to obtain them if you had gone at the regular rate of time.”

“So not only are you saying that anything we could’ve gathered from two weeks ago is with us now, but you’re also saying we’ve entered an apocalyptic era in the future where fire is raining down on us?” Kaileena asks.

“Not exactly on that last bit,” Nut answers with a chuckle. “Luckily, the Atlamillia sent you six about two weeks into the future, so you haven’t exactly missed much.”

We all let out breaths we had no clue we were holding in, much less simultaneously. “So what’s the date now?” Osiris inquires. Nut closes her blank white glowing eyes and rubs her temples in circular motions.

“September the twenty-seventh, I believe.” She opens her eyes again with a smile.

“And one last question.” I think this one through this time, rather than all the bullshit things I’ve said/done/thought in my time here. “If we went a fortnight forward through time, an’ anything we might’ve acquired is with us, have th’ people we could’ve met in that time remember us?”

“Hmm....” Nut puts a hand to her chin, contemplating the question. We could all practically hear the cogs in her head turning to produce a decent answer.

“I’m afraid not,” she finally answers. “Think of it like that computer game you play all the time - what was it... Dungeons and Dragons Online?” I nod, slightly embarrassed as to how she knows what games I played on Steam. Next thing you know, she’ll probably announce what kind of underwear I prefer. “You know when you walk in and obtain an item during a certain quest, doesn’t that item usually go away when you leave the dungeon floor, or when you use it?” I nod again. “Yes, it’s rather like that, but it works both ways.” At the confused looks on our faces, Nut pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs heavily. “Allow me to explain: you’ve met people in the two weeks you’ve all travelled forwards, but they’ve forgotten you. They literally have no recollection of seeing you, nor you them.”

“Oh....” I sigh. So... any friends I could’ve made, any people I could’ve met: they won’t remember me? Or any of us? That’s... awful. Especially since I won’t remember them either. “Thanks,” I finally murmur.

“Don’t mention it, Chess Piece.” She leans forward to whisper in my ear. “And the undergarments you prefer are boxer briefs and V-Necks.” She breathes in my ear.

I recoil in disgust and shock. I have a goddess that stalks me.... fantastic. “Ya really gotta cut that shit out,” I quietly seethe.

“Or what?” She says to provoke me. I bite my tongue to prevent from lashing out even further. “Exactly.” With a giggle, she became blue swirling mist once more, the mist spreading to my feet and taking the form of my shadow. “If you need me, just lemme know.” Her voice echoed in my head now instead.

...HAHAHAHA fuck no. After that little fiasco, I’m only calling you out in private.

“Excuse me... are you alright?” A deep, booming voice asks from behind me. The voice reminds me of a coffin slamming shut. I turn around to expect a dragon, but the thing I see is no such thing.

Standing before us is this... huge tree. He towered over me like a skyscraper. Long branches and leaves on his head are styled like hair, with his arms and legs respectively consisting of boughs and thick roots. A few figs decorate his hair, and he has armor; however, it’s all styled out of bark and strong wood: sycamore, perhaps? He also has a face that’s concealed by his long hair, the face resembling a scary wooden mask. A symbol on his belt heavily resembles an ankh.

The overall effect made him look rather intimidating.

“Are you alright?” The same deep and booming voice inquires again. After a second or two of terrible brainfart, I recover and realise that the voice is coming from the tree.

...Brain?

‘Yes?’

I’m high as a bloody kite, aren’t I?

‘Nope.’

...Seriously? You’re not shitting me, are you? No dope? No crack? Nothing?

‘Nada - I would know.’

Well, then...

“Holy shiiiiiit....” I drawl.

What? What else could I say? I’m talking to a tree, damn it, and it sure as hell is not Fluttershy.

What do?

Plan Number One: go nuttier than squirrel feces; Plan Number Two: attack and come out on top; or Plan Number Three: get acquainted with this talking tree (an Ent?).

First option is out the window: I’m already crazier than an high-security asylum patient with a bag of coke; how much more batshit insane can I get?

Second option is also a dumb one: this guy’s bloody huge! He’d probably squash me like a bug if I tried to hit him.

Time for Plan Number Three.

“Uh, hi. How are ya?” I wave.

Urgh... this is gonna be a long day....”