Chapters It was a beautiful evening in Equestria when the nightmare began.
Later, it would be said that it was induced by dark magic. A strange, foreign darkness unlike anything ever felt before on Equus by a majority of its population, slipped and woven into the very Magic of Harmony that knitted the world together. Insinuating itself like a serpent, it crept into the world along the very same lines that Harmony itself used to keep the world it loved so much safe. Not even Nightmare Moon radiated this kind of baleful energy, and the Princess of the Night herself was caught in its wake as the ponies lay themselves to sleep... standing witness to what would come.
It began with the Princesses. Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight Sparkle.
All four trembled as the dream took hold, and of those three only Luna was awake to try and combat what was happening. For all of the power in her domain, she too felt the creeping presence as the power swept over her like a tide. A prophetic rush of insight and knowledge shuddering through her as she realized that trying to face this miasma head on could cause devastation to the minds of her sleeping charges, not to mention their connection to Harmony. Her eyes and wings flared open as she did her best to mitigate the damage, the fear, the horror the nightmare was meant to cause. The tide of darkness swept over her, familiar and alien at the same moment. With the sheltering grace of her gift, she bore the brunt of the nightmare assault... the pain, the fear, the dread sweeping into her as she absorbed it, threatening to release the darkness banished by the Elements of Harmony...
...yet with strength drawn from her past, she bore it. The darkness ripping around her was drawn upon as the remnants of what she was as Nightmare Moon stood triumphantly against the presence in the invasion. She bared her teeth into the very teeth of the gale of darkness as it surrounded her as she stood in the throne room, its decorations tailored to her colors and whims as night fell and she resumed control of the kingdom. Here, in her place of power, she would keep her little ponies safe with all the fury and darkness she possessed.
Thus it is why those touched by the dream were not harmed by it, and the attempt by the figure behind it to insinuate suspicion, hatred, and fear of the one depicted was deflected and held at bay.
Thus... matters would become far different then what was planned. This was an attack, of no doubt, against the very fabric of the world. An attack meant to set into motion a series of events that would lead to the unraveling of the very force which held the world together.
As each Princess was touched by the darkness as it slid in on... it was diffused. The great web of Harmony that all four were intrinsically bound to began to vibrate, as the dream slipped from pony to pony to pony. And beyond. Zebra, Griffin, Minotaur, Dragon, and Changeling, sleeping in the night were touched... and many more.
And even as Harmony sang its strange note... the force of Discord opened his eyes in the small, if sweetly charming little house that he called home with the sweet mare he called Friend. The wake of it crept into even her sleeping form, and the nightmare took hold before her companion and friend took note... and the knowledge he possessed, and lines of Chaos he could see, he knew he could stop it. At least from her. From his Fluttershy. Discord raised a paw... only to pause. He turned his head to look in the direction of the distant castle, feeling the power awakened by the Ruler of the Night. A slow smile spread on his mismatched features... and he gently coiled around Fluttershy protectively... and watched the nightmare unravel before his eyes... holding the trembling mare as she shuddered.
Deep in the depths of the Badlands, a deposed Queen trembled as her sleeping mind was consumed by the dream.
Locked within his cell in the depths of Tartarus... an ancient centaur, whose name was synonymous in Equestria with Evil, raised his head as the strange feeling of magic swept in close... and he smiled as he watched.
All of Equus... dreamed.
It began, as Harmony does,... with a song.
"Wolves asleep amidst the trees..."
The lullaby was beautiful and haunting, and it was sung as the dream showed a distant, beautiful land underneath and unfamiliar sky and strange moon. A distant city across a vast lake was visible in the distance, the alien moon shown full upon the night... distant clouds drifting across the beautiful night sky.
A figure stepped out into the shadows. A figure unlike any most had seen before. Those who recognized her species were in no condition to share the knowledge and memory. Her hair was a vibrant red, and in the light of the moon her pale skin took on a ghostly, ethereal appearance. She wear well kept, if peasant clothes. A dress simple and yet beautiful in its simplicity. Far too long had those who knew what she was had it been since they had seen a Human. And this one was far different then the one they once knew...
...the one they had known was a beautiful blond haired youth. A girl. This was a woman in the full maturity of feminine beauty. Her hair was done up in a rather prim, conservative style, yet she was all the more beautiful because of it. Her features were alien to most, but young and sweet. A tiny, delicate nose, full, red lips and a dash of freckles across her all too pale cheeks.
"Bats all a swaying in the breeze..."
The figure, the woman, knelt to gently pick up a forgotten child's doll from the ground. Her cloak rippled gently in the evening wind, as she continued to sing a lullaby the likes of which no one in Equestria, or on Equus itself, had heard before. So haunting the melody and so sweet the song that it was guaranteed to be remembered, passed on... even more so for the events that followed...
"But one soul lies anxious, wide awake..."
Gently the woman's limb rose... its soft, delicate digits with their slight nails so different and alien to a majority of Equus' denizens... even as some remembered gentle touches and fond scratches given by hands much like those. It caressed the head of the doll as she continued to sing, the melody resonating down the same Harmonic pathways the Music came down... resonating in the hearts and souls of all who heard it.
"...Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags, and wraiths."
Those words struck a cord, as fear rippled through the sleeping denizens. Ghouls. Corpse-eaters. Rare indeed save in far distant lands. A disease of Undeath passed along to those struck down by the creatures. Hags... the racial memory of ponies was a strange and fickle thing. Yet at that single word, visions of a crone lingered in the mind, bent and wizened... as she unleashed an ancient and forgotten catastrophe. And Wraiths. Ghosts were not unknown in Equestria, and malevolent ones were known... but too lost in the mist of time and legend as Harmony blanketed the land. If not for Luna's interference, the fear would have rooted deeper... destabilizing Harmony and creating terrors in the dark. She too bore the brunt of this darkness... and smiled grimly. Was this all the darkness held?
The beautiful woman stood alone on the shore, as the world held its breath. Water lapped on the shore of the great lake.
The stillness was broken by a sudden spoken word. A voice deep, rumbling, and speaking with a soft humor that didn't hold against the situation. The voice was gruff, deep baritone, and strong... even as it promised things to the woman standing alone.
"Nice tune. Been a while since I heard it last."
The woman's face changed from the look of melancholic sweetness that it had been, becoming an icy mask for an instant. A look of exasperation was there... of 'Oh, now I have to deal with this.' It was a face that filled many dreamers with confusion, so closely were they attracted to the alien allure of the red haired siren in the night. Her features changed in a moment, a hint of sadness and determination crossing her features, and a hint of disappointment. The Dreamers of Equus would not know for a long time that it was because her gambit had failed... and her hiding place had been discovered.
Looking down at the doll for a moment, she discarded it to the frozen soil at her feet, even as she replied.
"Folk have forgotten it."
The reply was faintly sad, as if it mourning the loss of the memory of the song. A memory that now wouldn't be forgotten... never again... She raised her hand, those delicate fingers like and unlike the hands of a minotaur, as she slid it into her red hair, fingering the bun as she looked out upon the lake.
The world, the view, shifted for the dreamers then... rotating around the lone woman slowly. Slow enough as to seem natural. As if they themselves were standing and viewing the events that were about to transpire in the darkness of an alien, distant world.
The change in perspective revealed a figure some short distance behind the woman. And if not for Luna, the accompanying dread of seeing that figure might have stilled the hearts of some ancient ponies in their bed... as the presence behind this invasion tried to impose an instant fear of the tall, imposing figure. Luna bore it, eyes hard even as they radiated power.
His shoulders were broad, almost as wide as a minotaur. He was clad in garb that clearly marked him as a warrior. The minotaur would marvel at his armor, the tiny links of fitted chain, and in the morning the chain mail that would be born from this vision would be carefully constructed by skilled laborers. The rest of his uniform was clearly leather, a material not alien to Equestria, but rare indeed. For a race that interacted with sentient animals, a natural source of leather was difficult to find... yet there were those who prided themselves on leather made from beasts of dangerous caliber, non-sapient and a threat to ponykind. Warriors, guardsmen, and fashion leaders, and those who enjoyed the risqué of real leather apparel for various purposes.
His features were scarred, but such scars only seemed to accentuate his masculinity rather then mar it. Silver hair upon his head was alien to most, marking the man with age that his features belied. This was clearly a man in his prime, his chiseled features a granite complexion of stern threat. A beard on his chin and full mustache over his mouth gave him a grave countenance that made him seem almost fatherly... but also dangerous. His head turned for a moment, looking out over the beauty of the lake and environs, almost wistfully so, before he turned to face the woman alone on the shore. The grass, brown from winter frost and covered here in there in patches of thawing snow was alien as well... even as some considered how sloppy some were with their Winter Wrap-up. The thought of natural seasons and the passing of time still so alien to those in Equestria.
His eyes, hidden in the shadow of his brows, were focused on the woman, yet there was a gleam of gold within... And, around his neck was a length of silver jewelry chain, attached to a medallion... a medallion in the shape of the snarling head of a wolf. In a single word, he was threatening. And that threat was only increased by what was held in his right hand.
A naked, gleaming sword, far longer and more delicate then any forged by the Minotaur or Pony smiths. Upon its length, runes of clear arcane purpose glowed softly. A faint yellow gold gleam that clearly marked the blade as unique, and a masterwork that left many who knew the creation of such things in awe.
When he spoke next, it was almost wistful.
"Got... other things on their mind."
As he spoke, the red haired woman undid some tie in her hair... causing it to collapse around her as she turned. Those with a liking for such things found the motion alluring, as her apparent mane sung free like a mare welcoming a lover. Her features were equally coy and playful as she turned to look upon the armored man, and spoke words that left many who heard it chilled to the bone. Her gaze back to the silver haired man only exasperated this, as she looked heart-meltingly lovely in that moment... so out of tune with her words. Yet also sad, a hint of forlorn tragedy playing across her features that had many wanting to defend her from this clear ruffian and uncouth thug. Silhouetted in the moonlight, there would be paintings of her in the future in that moment. None so famous as 'A Monster In Beauty's Guise'.
"...Things like me."
The man sighed, his eyes still hidden in shadow, the cloud of his breath escaping into the cold night air. And when he spoke again, the situation had only grown more dire and confusing. None knew what to expect in that moment.
"They paid me for you," came the growling words, even as the man nodded his head toward her. Confusion turned to fear in the hearts of the watchers, and if not for Luna, the level of dread and prosecution that would have been felt by the dreamers would have left them all fearing when this man came for them. Was paid... for them.
Yet, rather then look afraid by this announcement, the woman gave a subtle laugh, her lips pulled into a mirthless smile. Shrugging out of her cloak, she left many wondering at her actions, and leaving many in fear. Was she about to offer herself to him? Youths were confused, but enraptured by the story playing out before their dreaming eyes. They had no one there to cover their eyes at the woman disrobing as she stepped to the side to properly face the one who claimed to be here for her. The Dreamers all could only watch as she unbuttoned her dress quite primly, even as she spoke.
"In times past, no amount of coin would convince a witcher to take this contract."
As she spoke, her head bowed forward, and she looked up to the man with clear threat in her posture and intent. Her beautiful features surrounded by her fall of deep red hair. Yet that was not the most disturbing thing about the moment. It was the way her voice dipped... and changed... becoming dark and predatory. A reverberation was in her words that made some think of Changelings, yet far more menacing. The vocal transformations alone had many quivering in fear at what was to come, thrashing about in their beds.
And then the vision slipped back to the man. Looking upon his features closer now, even as he spoke. But what caught the attention most of all was not his words, but rather his eyes. Golden they were, slit like those of a cat, the pupils wide in the darkness to draw in the light of the moon. This being, this man, whatever he was... was not normal. And again Luna prevented a wave of fear and dread, this time aimed at those golden eyes. If the attempt had been successful, all of Equus would have feared those eyes if they ever saw them. Luna, in the midst of her struggle, gasped... so different and so alien. This was not a normal man. He was so different then the girl from so long ago... yet strong, tall, and confident, even as she bore the weight of the assault and kept the world from fearing the man with the golden eyes.
"Times have changed."
What happened next filled many with confusion and doubt, as others felt the instinctive urge to cover their eyes yet could not. No one was disallowed to turn away as the sexual, playful undertones of the red haired woman turned intent... and she shrugged out of her dress. To a majority of Equestria, there was no such thing as a nudity taboo, yet mothers would wish to cover their foal's eyes if they could. Yet, instead of revealing herself to the interest of many a male... the woman vanished!
A hiss and rush, the woman... or perhaps creature now... seemed to transform to the wind itself and rush forward and past the tall man. Blowing right past him and slamming through a wooden gate and into an ancient and unmaintained barn. A farm of some sort, yet dilapidated and left to the elements. Many Earth Ponies felt a hint of remorse seeing a place so lovely in such a state, yet such concerns were forgotten in the face of future events.
Rather then rush blindly into the barn, the tall, armored figure stepped after it carefully. His strange eyes looking this way and that as if expecting an attack at any moment. The man's... what had she called him? Witcher. That word rang out in the collective unconsciousness of Equus. Carrying with it strange connotations and confusion. Witcher? Many had heard of Witches. But a Witcher? What in the world did that mean?
Luna, keeping the threat at bay, gritted her teeth and watched.
The Witcher walked with a careful step, clearly unwilling to just charge in after the fleeing creature as many would have done. Seasoned warriors nodded with respect in their sleep, even as they saw him as the seasoned veteran he was. You never just run into the manticore's den. This entire situation had trap written all over it, and the watchers were enthralled.
Stopping before the door, the Witcher reached down to his belt and drew up a small flask that left many wondering at its purpose. One Zebra knew a potion when she saw one. And they watched the man bite the cork out of the small bottle with a slosh of the liquid inside, and spit it out onto the soil. They witnessed the man drink like a man gritting himself for something harsh or difficult, as the more magically focused and gifted watched in awe.
The potion, moments after being downed, had an immediate effect.
The man's lips pulled back as his head snapped back. Clearly in pain, the more kindhearted wondered what he was doing to himself, the man's barred teeth revealed the pointed canines and slicing front teeth of an omnivore. More data points to be analyzed. But seeing the man's veins turn black under his skin as he clenched his body in obvious agony was a shock to all who witnessed it. The flash of his golden eyes in the dream was sharp as the clear power in the potion took effect... leaving the man at the end bent forward, gasping at the agony he just caused on himself.
What happened next was strange... because they saw a droplet of his blood, red as any ponies', fall from his nose from a burst vessel inside. They watched it fall, clearly focused on it in those moments... and it fell to the earth with not a drip, but a hiss! The more magically minded and scientifically gifted gasped in awe. Acidic blood. Had... had he drunk something to make his blood... acidic?! Why? Whatever for?! It made no sense.
Except to some... filling them with dread. If such a potion existed... it would be a weapon. A defensive measure. One usable for hunting their kind... for vampires were not unknown in Equestria, or Equus. But they were far from the blight that existed in fiction and story. And many served the Mistress of the Night in her guard and employ since her return...
They watched the Witcher gather himself, and with a look of determination and purpose, stride through the doorway to the ruined barn. His sword lead his way, as he walked like a man heading into battle, his eyes glowing as he stood silhouetted by the darkness beyond far more then they were before... perhaps a side-effect of that potion, some ponies surmised.
No words were spoken as dread and trepidation filled many a heart. Whatever was about to happen was deadly battle... whatever the red haired woman was, this man had been sent to hunt her. Why? What had she done? What was she? So many questions left answer-less in the dark... for the moment.
Again many marveled at the movement of a trained warrior as the man entered the barn, clearly expecting to be attacked at any moment. Looking about as his eyes glowed in the dim light, augmented even further to pierce the gloom. Strangely, the medallion on his chest had begun to move on its own. Not a gentle sway with his movements, but rattling and shaking like a living thing. A warning? Was it enchanted?
The man moved further into the large barn, and reached down with his free left hand... detaching a small object there that hung from his belt. It was strange, almost like another potion vial. A glass-like sphere whose insides was clearly filled with some sort of glittering silver powder. Many wondered what it was as the Witcher moved forward, stalking with the grace of a predator.
And then it happened.
The Witcher noticed movement in the rafters that took many by surprise. With a flick of his wrist and arm, the sword-wielding man hurled the object into the air where it struck one of the barn's support joists. The explosion was shocking, but small... save for the effect of sending a cloud of glittering silver shards... everywhere! A cloud of beautiful fragments and powders that left watchers stunned at both the beauty and sudden shock of it all. And the fight began.
A figure, invisible, leaped through the dispersing cloud. It was in the shape of the woman from before, her outline, but something was clearly... wrong. Despite her invisibility, the outlines were subtly different. Her face was... horrifying as the powder clung to its outline. Whatever she was, the woman by the water was only a mask. Even as a certain Princess was mentally cataloging... everything she saw, the woman-thing stood tall and hissed at the Witcher whose arm was still raised to protect himself from the explosive weapon. Such a brilliant tool for dealing with invisibility had not yet been employed, and so many designs were put into motion for magical duplicates of the effect... because there were things on Equus that liked to use invisibility and were dangerous.
With the battle's beginning came music in the minds of those bound by Harmony. A music sharp an sudden as violins resounded. From where it could not be said, but the music was soul-sharp and sweet... making perfect the battle underway. Those bound by Harmony were used to such things, for the Music often rose in the mind when strong emotions came in effect. And in battle, there was no sweater music then hearing the Music guide your hoof to your enemy.
So as the poignant strings played their melody to the battle, the Dreamers watched the Vampire and the Witcher do their very best to kill one another.
Each sweep of that beautiful sword was perfectly timed, yet the woman-thing moved in response with a level of superhuman speed, if not skill. The creature, made visible by the clinging cloud of silvery sparkles, gave hisses and snarls as she wielded deadly claws. The Witcher moved in as if he could hear the music, each step of the battle a dance. Yet it was a dance where even he... was over-matched. For all the strength and speed he clearly possessed, the creature could block his sword with one limb with a clang as if striking metal, and her claws promised to rend him apart. The supernatural agility of the way she bent back under one sweeping strike was stunning to behold, even as foals cheered and cried out for the hero to stop the monster, and as prim and proper adults wished they could cower and turn away from this gratuitous violence.
The Witcher landed a solid punch to the creature's upper chest which only barely fazed it, as the thing reached out its claw for him and he smoothly ducked to the side. Moment by moment, to the strings of the violin, the battle became more and more heated. And then the creature's invisibility was gone.
Perhaps realizing it was useless to maintain it, perhaps it was simply a short duration spell, the woman-thing lunged forward into visibility in a pose that clearly startled the Witcher as she entered inside the striking arc of his sword. She was... hideous. Far more distorted and transformed then any Changeling. For all their nature, Changelings were at least... cute in their natural forms. Or sexy to some. Or a little alien with their chitinous bodies and cheese-legs. No, this creature had a definite look of hideous horror about her. What beauty she had was simply... gone. Naked as she was, there was no attractiveness to her shape as there was before.
She was emaciated, with her bones standing out against her fur-less pale pink hide. Her soft looking digits and gentle looking hands had transformed into deadly looking claws and hard, bone-thin arms. Her feet also ended in deadly looking talons, so differently shaped then they were before, with nothing to remind it of a gryphon's talon but rather the rending claw of a monster. But worst of all was her face. Twisted, vaguely bat-like, yet more akin to a skull, it made even the bat-like thestrals shudder in horror. Her mouth, wide and open far larger then it should be capable of, was revealed to carry hideously sharp, blackened teeth made for piercing and rending flesh.
And now it was revealed why someone would pay for this woman's death. She was a monster. And this silver-haired man, this warrior... was a Hunter of Monsters.
Why were they seeing this? To what purpose? To whose? Luna's questions flooded her mind, even as she watched the hideous vampire-like horror drive her claws into man's chest, piercing through his leather and chain armor as if it was not there. Luna whimpered, thinking they were about to witness his death... yet found herself cheering along with so many others as the wounded hunter ripped the monster away from him and slammed it to the frozen ground of the barn with brutal skill.
It would have been over then, save for what happened next. The Witcher's sword snapped up and then down in a stabbing cut, he having changed it to his left-hand some time in the middle of the fight amid blows and the swift shock of conflict. The impaling strike would have pierced the creature's back and into her heart... if she had not once again dissolved into mist. Rushing away at speed, she narrowly avoided the killing blow as the Witcher clutched his wound with his right hand, clearly desperately fighting through the agony.
Spinning in place, looking for his enemy, the Witcher's sword was raised even then as he readied himself for what was clearly a life or death struggle the likes of which few ponies alive had seen or ever known. And then the abandoned wagon was thrown at him.
The creature, having rushed to the side, took the initiative to strike and hurl a ruined, broken wagon across the barn in total silence toward the panting, pained hunter. Many gasped in shock, but there were cheers in the darkness of the dreamworld as the Witcher formed his digits into a strange shape, and then magic exploded around him! Magic was not an alien things to the denizens of Equus, because it was a part of many species and each had their own native forms. Yet still the Witcher was impressive as he threw up a golden, dome-like shield around himself that caught the flying wagon and shattered it to pieces around him with a gigantic crash!
Stumbling only for an instant, moving through the pain of a wound that would have had many a pony helpless, the Witcher was still in perfect form. Flawless in his motions as the shimmering invisible shape of the Vampire-like creature rushed him. Yet it seemed she had stopped playing around. In mere moments the Witcher's left hand was caught, and the creature had disarmed him. And then her full on slap send his head reeling as her claws caught his already scarred features... adding more wounds to his collection. Gripping him then, she slammed him bodily into one of the heavy beams of the barn, before he was hurled and smashed to the ground in a daze.
And just like that... she stopped her attack. But only for a moment.
Reeling, in clear pain... yet somehow pushing through it, the man, the Hunter, slowly began to push himself to his feet. And that was when she struck.
In a moment that left many gasping, the Dreamers watched the Witcher be embraced and held from behind, his neck arched. Holding his head in one hand and his chain pauldron in the other, the creature bared his neck to her as she opened her mouth wide.
So many pleas went unheard, threats unanswered... as the beast bit down...
The agony across the Hunter's face was clear, as was the slurping sounds as the fully revealed Vampire drank. The sanguinarians reeled at the horror of it. None of them would do what the creature was doing now. By force? Such a crime was anathema to their kind though it was not in the past. For not always were the horrors of the night so chained... not till the coming of the Princess Luna. And she, knowledgeable as she was, felt tears sliding down from her eyes as she witnessed the horrors of the moment. The last human she had known was so kind, so gentle. She and her siblings had saved Dream Valley countless times, and helped raise her and her sister after their mother's passing. To see this human about to be killed filled her with sorrow... and wrath.
Who was showing them this? Who was forcing this hideous picture of violence and death upon her people? WHO?!
Yet even now, she could now stop it. It had woven itself into the very magic of Harmony that she herself was bound to as a Princess and Alicorn. If she tried to face it, the resulting events could shatter Harmony worse then anything Discord had ever done. And even Discord himself marveled at the skill of this... intrusion... even as he held Fluttershy tighter... and watched her cry in her sleep.
The Hunter gathered himself, and somehow managed to rip himself away, pushing the vampiric horror and himself apart. He stumbled, and fell... landing on the packed earth with a grunt as the hideous monster loomed over him. And, despite the horror and hideous nature of her in that moment, marked with wounds from the Witcher's sword across her middle where he had landed one good blow, and blood leaking from her hideous maw, there was a majesty to her in that moment. She was a victorious predator, looking down upon her prey in all her naked glory. Yet there was no beauty there, no attractiveness. Despite her teats being bare to the world and her nakedness standing proud, there was nothing but a monster there... not the entrancing woman she had been before. Her once pretty eyes were clouded over with a white pallor that made her look all the more hideous in that moment.
Ponies, Minotaurs, Zebra, Griffins, Changelings and more cowered in that moment as any would from any night terror. Yet some were already aware of what was about to happen... having figured out what the Hunter had done...
Hissing her threat and clearly savoring her victory, the vampire loomed in the moments before her victory. Her body glittered with the dust from the explosive weapon and the powder the Witcher had covered her with. And she began to stalk towards the fallen hunter, even as he clutched his neck in pain... ...and watched what happened to her.
A moment passed as confusion stilled the vampire. And then black lines began to crawl through, and under her skin. The blood drawn into her system by drinking from the Witcher. Blood that had been altered to an acidic poison by the potion he had drunk before he ever stepped into this arena of death that was the ruined barn.
The confusion and pain etched across the woman-thing's hideous features, even as the Witcher began to rise like a man who had not just suffered grievous wounds. The creature shuddered and twitched, clearly having trouble moving in that moment as the black poison ripped through its veins. There were cheers, there were cries, there was worry, there was a great up swell of emotion as the Witcher pulled himself to his feet. The vampire hissed in rage at what was happening to it, and with a look of a man with a job to do, the Witcher reared back his right hand, then flung it forward in another of those strange finger positions. With it came power. Raw force exploded forward in a wave of air and concussive shock, a glowing white light from the magic filling many with joy and relief as the unleashed force slammed the poisoned vampire through the air like the rag doll she had so carelessly discarded.
As she slammed amid the broken wood and remnants of a once prosperous farm, the Witcher reached down, bringing up his sword. The music keening its violins in a music that would not, could not be forgotten. Clearly in pain, the Witcher panted a moment, another plume of frigid air escaping his mouth as he readied himself for the end.
With a snarling hiss, the Vampire rushed the hunter with her claw upraised, attempting to rend him again. This time the Witcher was ready, dodging to the side and raising the beautiful sword in both hands over his head and bringing it down with the silent swiftness of an executioner. The thing's left arm was hacked cleanly from its body, leaving a stump that was stained black with the poison eating away at its body. Spinning with the follow-through, the Witcher's sword cleaved through the air and hacked deep into the torso of the hideous vampire monster. The Witcher, however, was clearly feeling his wounds, and had to stagger a moment to keep himself on his feet.
Landing in a heap in a pile of old old, rotted grain and seed, what was once a beautiful woman shrieked and howled in pain and terror as she tried desperately to get away. Whatever had been in that potion vial, however, coupled with its wounds, had clearly wounded it far more gravely then the Witcher had been by her. Scrambling on three limbs, the thing tried to escape out the door, even as behind her the Hunter sheathed his great and beautiful sword next to the second one at its side. Many were left wondering... why two? Even then, he had gripped the other thing on his back. A crossbow, small and compact, was brought forward...
...and with a poignant peel of the violin, the fleeing monster was struck in her back by a bolt sent true by the Witcher. In agony, panting in pain and shuddering with the injuries wracking her body, she still tried to crawl away... her body slowly reverting to the woman she was before the transformation. Either by lacking power to maintain the transformation, or perhaps seeking pity by taking a more comely form. None was found, however... as a second bolt flew from the darkness of the barn, and struck.
The impact was clear. If her heart was in her chest... it had been struck by a length of hard oaken wood.
Staggering, the music fading, the Witcher walked forward... wounds adorning his body and clearly barely able to stand upright. Yet with a clear intent... he reached down to his right hip, and gripped the handle of a wicked looking metal hook. For what purpose, no one on Equus could say except perhaps to finish the creature. Yet, it was clear she was done for. She had reverted to her other guise... returning to the delicate human woman she had been before... missing her left arm, and with bolts of oak sticking from her back.
All of Equus slept in silence, silently watching... as the lullaby returned... not song by her this time, but drifting ethereally on the air. There was no sound now of both wounded combatants, only the music.
"Cows turned in as daylight dies..."
They watched as, with blood dripping from his wounds and explosively coughed from his mouth, the Witcher dropped the hook onto the soil and fell to his hands and knees beside the dying vampire.
"But one soul lies anxious wide awake..."
The Dreamers watched as the woman breathed her last, life leaving her beautiful blue eyes as she stared at the fallen man at across from her.
"For the Witcher, brave and bold..."
And then it was dark.
They knew fear then. Did he die? What happened to the Hunter? Why did this happen? They watched as time seemed to speed up then, the sun rising from beyond the farm, showing views of the sunlight passing and rising with a beauty different then that of Celestia's sun... as many realized that, whatever they were seeing, it was far from Equus.
"Paid in coin of gold..."
And in a rush, they saw the Witcher in the morning light, gasping awake. Bloodied, almost confused to still be alive... before turning his head to look at the figure beside him. The figure of the monster he slew.
"He'll chop and slice you..." "Cut and dice you..." "Eat you up whole..."
And they bore witness to the hideous visage the woman's corpse had become. Rotting faster then anything should, a grinning skull as the sunlight ate away at its very being. Shock and horror, pity and revulsion. So many emotions played across the dreamscape. Yet while such shocks as had happened this night should have woken many from a normal nightmare... this one refused to let go. And thanks to Princess Luna, Mistress of the Night, no one had been touched by the darkness that came with this vision of another world. Even as she looked on... the lullaby's grisly lyrics meant so many ways in those moments... yet the fear sent in those moments, and shielded by her, was of full of the images of this man. This... hero of a man... killing and eating and cutting down the citizens of Equestria and beyond. The weight of it sunk into Luna as she shuddered... yet the dark pall could not get past her warding wings.
This man, this HERO, did not deserve to be treated with the fear whatever had sent this vision was trying to impart. She would stop it, not only to protect her subjects... but to protect him. Such a man fighting such a monster deserved to be protected. It was her duty, no... her HONOR to do just that. As for the dark emotions sent her way, blocked and filtered through the world of dreams as Harmony's song was perverted to disseminate this vision of another world... she was Princess Luna! She had been Nightmare Moon! She had stood between her subjects and the horrors of the dark for centuries, and she would not stop. Not now. Not if it cost her...
As if in response, the weight of the darkness forced itself down on her... and tried to crush her. She fought back with everything she was, everything she knew, every year of her thousand year imprisonment as a jealous child warped by a monster from the dark. She would not give in. She would stand strong. She would...
...the Dreamers watched the wounded Witcher abandon the body of the vampire, already rotting away in the sunlight,
They watched him approach a... a pony? Tall and gorgeous, she stood with saddle and bridle yet... she was far larger then Princess Celestia herself! Tall and beautiful brown chestnut mare. They watched him climb onto the back of the mare, climbing astride her and gently guiding her into the dawn. Many were shocked, many were appalled, and many confused. Some, however, envied. The idea of baring a rider on their backs... was a strange one... yet this pony and her rider seemed so... united.
It was a thought that wouldn't leave many minds...
They watched him ride past the cliffs, across a beautiful countryside... ravens and crows flying in a cloud above, the alien sun shining down as he rode toward a large city. Large enough to rival Canterlot, Manehattan, or any city on Equus. With a castle while, less beautiful then that of the ruling sisters, was still beautiful. They watched him ride... and the dream faded as the last line of song entered their minds.
"Eat you whole..."
Across Equestria, across Equus, people woke screaming, gasping, crying out, sobbing, or staring. None, save those more attuned to the magic of Harmony, yet knew they had not been alone in having this dream... this nightmare...
The Princesses knew.
In the vast cold north, in the domed pocket of perfection that was the Crystal Empire, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza awoke in her husband's embrace, gasping and trembling even as he woke with a start. "S-shiny!"
Shining Armor, ever battle ready, had a protective dome around them in an instant even as he rose to a battle ready crouch. Still snorting and eyes wild from what he had witnessed. "Cadance! Whats-- that... was a strange dream... what is Luna--"
He was cut off as Cadance covered his muzzle with her hoof. "Did he have golden eyes?," she asked softly, her eyes looking into his. Shining Armor went completely still, and met his wife's eyes, and nodded.
Far far away from the husband and wife couple, Princess Twilight Sparkle burst from her bed in a flash of magic, crying out in pain as she clutched her head. Her horn throbbed and her body trembled. "...That... was not a normal dream. But-- who was that?! What was that explosive? What was she?! What was in that potion?! WHAT IS GOING ON ?!" The babble rose to her own version of the Royal Canterlot Voice, causing the crystal edifice of her castle to rattle in reverberation.
Spike, in his room, sat bolt upright as he stared out and spoke simple words in response.
"That. Was. AWESOME !"
High above the roused Dragon and Princess of Friendship, to the north in a beautiful glittering castle, another awoke.
Princess Celestia had known humans in her long, long life. She had also known fear, nightmare, and dread. The events of the dream filled her with trepidation, her body shaking as her horn too throbbed with a strange feedback of energies. Of all the Princesses, Celestia was the most connected to Harmony. And with its guidance, she had lead her land in the millennia since Dream Valley had been abandoned. Her last memory of a human was a beautiful blond haired girl and her siblings, she who had gifted the Harmony to the ponies of the world. She rose, body still weary and shaking, and immediately called upon her magic. Teleportation should not hurt, especially to one as gifted as she, but with the dwindling feedback in her body she gasped as she appeared in the throne room.
But the lance of pain was not the only reason for that gasp...
Princess Luna lay upon the stairs before her throne.
"LUNA! ," cried Celestia as she rushed to her side. To her relief, she was still breathing... but she had... changed. Princess Luna had reverted once again. Her mane of flowing stars had settled and vanished, her galaxy of a tail had returned to simple fur. Once more, the Alicorn she was just after the Elements of Harmony had cleansed her of Nightmare Moon and much earlier when they had been girls just starting to rule... before their Alicorn natures required them to bleed off the excess magic through their manes and tails.
"Oh Luna... what is going on...," cried Celestia even as she cradled her diminished sister in her front hooves. Nuzzling her gently, trying to waken her. "Come back to me, Luna. Don't go. Not again..."
Somehow the older sister's cries reached her little sister, who opened her eyes, and smiled weakly up at her sister. "...I protected them, sister... the thing was trying to... do more... then give them the dream. It wanted them to hate the Hunter... to fear him. It wanted us to loathe him." Luna coughed once, shuddering as a spasm of pain ripped through her.
Celestia winced softly, even as she held her sister, "Oh Luna... are you alright? I could feel how wrong it was... yet still. It came at us through... Harmony . I- I don't know what this means!"
Luna, shivering and trembling, clutched at her sister, "It- it was so evil, Tia. Worse then anything I had ever known. Worse then any of them... Sombra, Chrysalis, Tirek... even the Nightmare. It... It tried to make us hate him, sister. We can't do that. Whatever happens. We'll be playing right into its hands."
Celestia, trembling with fear for the first time in a long long time, held her sister as she cried, "It'll be alright... We'll figure out what did this, Luna. We'll protect them. We'll protect them all. Whatever is coming, we'll protect them all."
Luna nodded, burying her head in her sister's mane, feedback and the darkness she had absorbed and filtered tumbling through her body, leaving her awash with pain, "T-there will be panic... when they all realize what happened... that we all shared the same dream. I-I couldn't stop it. It was like facing the Elements again. There was nothing I could do but shield them from the darkness it tried to force along with the dream."
Celestia whimpered softly, and nuzzled her sister, her wings enclosing the smaller Alicorn as she held her close, "We'll figure it out, Lulu... We'll figure it out... Just stay with me. I'm here. I'm here."
Luna, shivering once more, closed her eyes. And fell into darkness.
...and in that darkness, she could see something. A figure... A human.
Walking away slowly. Looking upon him, a feeling of dread filled her. And she could only hear him doing the strangest thing as she fell into a dreamless, empty darkness.
He was whistling.
Author's Note
Well. My first foray into the idea of writing FiM stories. The idea struck me. Geralt's story, not to mention the finale of it, was powerful, sharp, and poignant. It also left a huge gap opening for anyone to come along and continue it their own way. And an epic story involving not only him, but Yennefer too, sent to a world that is as alien to them as Equestria, sounds really exciting to me.
The question was; how and why?
The solution was pretty obvious when he presented himself for consideration.
Thus... Gaunter O'dimm steps onto the stage.
What does he want? Why is he trying to accomplish? How did he do what he did?
I hope this is well received, time will tell. I've no real editor but myself at the moment, so appreciate comments, critiques, and catches on typos and errors I might have missed. Thank you.
Lets see where this goes.
A foreign sun crests the horizon over a beautiful, restful land. A land that could be said to come straight out of fairy tale, ruled by a fair and beautiful maiden with gallant knights at her call. This is the Duchy of Toussaint. Located deep in the Empire of Nilfgaard, far from the war torn lands of the Northern Kingdoms. It is a land recently beset not by war, but by a terror in the darkness. As dawn rises, it comes so at a relief of many who are piecing together their lives and their city in the wake of vampiric attack.
The grand castle of the Toussaint Monarchy, Beauclair Palace, looms above the sprawling capital city; beautiful and majestic. It gives the fable-like atmosphere of the land all the more legitimacy, for it appears like it emerged straight out of a storybook. Sparkling white stone greets the morning sun on a world where none see to its rise, the orange rooftops shining and standing tall in the wake of such destruction that has been known in the land of late. The Beast of Beauclair was dead, and there is peace once more in the land.
Craftsmen are busy setting to work repairing ruined and burned buildings, as the sunrise greets a crowd of mourners visiting the local graveyard. Wailing and sobbing can be heard, but so to can the sounds of celebration and revelry from the plazas, inns, and taverns of the city as dawn welcomes the new day. While this land has suffered from the events of the last weeks, they emerge from the dark with the stalwart air of a people who celebrate the wonder of the life they have been given. Goblets of a morning's wine are raised in toast to the sun and to those who fell, and those who stood, and to above all the one who saved the land from the beasts of the dark.
Above it all, the vast Mt. Gorgon looms, a peak far higher then any mortal could climb, its snow covered top looming majestically, looking down upon a land once more... at peace.
Across the forests and fields the land was warm and golden. Past vineyards and orchards, past the great statue of the Prophet Lebioda recently erected with the care and work of the people of Toussaint, between the river Sansretour and the large lake called the Seidhe Llygad, and just northeast of the grand Tourney Grounds of Beauclair where knights proved their mettle and grand celebrations were held... rests a vineyard.
It was a smaller vineyard of the many dotting the land, but it was well kept and well maintained. Rows of ripe, plump grapes glistened and gleamed on the vine, and already the first barrels and casks were being produced and sealed away in the cellars underneath, a new generation of Sepremento laid to rest. Already the inhabitants of the vineyard were moving about, heading out to the vines or moving to take care of needful tasks here and there. Children could be seen darting about, playing games of 'Knights and Vampires', with one carrying a long wooden sword another pretending to have long rending claws on his fingers. Their laughter and games a joyful sound in the morning light.
The manor house lies above the vineyard itself and the outbuildings that serve as homes for the servants and staff, a glittering white coloration marking its name; Corvo Bianco. Built on the ruins of an elven settlement, its history was long and ancient. And now, thanks to the current owner, in more pristine condition then it had been in years. A grand gift from the Duchess to the one who saved her land and her people, and her long lost sister, the vineyard was a home that the current owner had never expected to have beyond the great keep of Kaer Morhen.
A loud cracking sound split the morning air, coupled with a clattering thunk of wood falling to earth. The woosh of an axe being swung through the air with skill. Care and battle worn hands bent to work and gathering large sections of cut logs which he is separating into pieces of firewood.
The man standing before the stump of a tree is tall, yet not a mountain of a man. Still his shoulders are broad under the leather he wears, with a strong, fit frame formed from one who has spent many long years on the Path. His body does not betray the fact that he is older then even the oldest folk on the vineyard, save perhaps for his silvery hair which stands stark white in the morning sun. One gloved hand reaches for and grips another thick piece of log, setting it just so on the stump with practiced ease, before he brings his hand down to join the other on the haft of the large axe at his side. A weapon yes, but not one of war. A simple felling and wood splitting axe, designed for the task at hand rather then carving into the flesh or carapace of monsters.
Geralt of Rivia, Witcher, and so much more, was dressed in simple garb this morn. With no expected conflict, he wore only a white silken shirt and sleek black trousers of an equally soft fabric. A gift from Yennefer, who had grown tired of him wearing leather and metal to their restful moments rather quickly. They weren't quite the finery that the taciturn witcher despised, but served as everyday clothing for the simple moments between them.... and considering the multiple suits of armor adorning the racks and displays in his home, the comfort of leather and steel was only a short distance away if it was required. Yet still, he kept his blades close. Beside him two pristine blades lay sheathed as he worked, both hidden away in scabbards. Each storied and important to him, and he carried them with him ever close should the need arise. And it did. Often. The world, and Toussaint itself, was not yet so peaceful that a Witcher could afford to go unarmed, even on his own land.
How strange that seemed to him in that moment as his golden eyes drifted over the demesne. A slow smile formed on his lips, fond and proud at the same moment before he raised the axe once more and brought it down with a loud crack and splinter of wood as the half-log was split cleanly in half.
"Sir Geralt, must you really insist on performing such... menial tasks... by your own hand? The winter months are coming soon, but if you wished firewood placed in the manor, you needed only have requested it," came a rather clipped, if pleasant, voice from over the Witcher's shoulder. A tall, bald-headed human wearing fine shaded spectacles had strolled up as the Witcher worked. His voice carried a flawless hint of the aristocratic conviviality, as did his mannerisms. In his perfectly set vest with an immaculate white ruff around his throat and stylish, pristinely cared for clothing.
A grunt came from the Witcher even as he withdrew the axe from the stump, turning his head to look toward his majordomo with a look of surly contentment, "Barnabas-Basil. Good morning. And I told you, if we're going to continue this relationship for as long as I intend to be here, you're going to have to get used to my... eccentricities." The last word was said with a faint smirk on his face, even as he picked up another log section and placed it on the stump with a heavy thump.
This provoked a wince from the prim Majordomo, then a put-upon sigh, "Aaaah, of course, my lord. As your humble servant it would behoove me simply to just... grin and bear it?" The words were said with not even a hint of mocking tonality, yet the Witcher could feel the teasing come from every dry word coming from the butler's lips.
In reply, the Witcher smirked, "Cut the 'my lords' and 'sirs' too." The axe rose and fell once again, even as Barnabas-Basil winced a second time.
The majordomo replied, his every word dripping with such proper decorum it couldn't be anything but mocking, "Of course. Would you prefer any of your other, many titles?" He cleared his throat, beginning to recite a rather... extensive list of noble titles and airs forced upon Geralt by the nobility of Toussaint, and others earned for earlier deeds and misdeeds, including 'Butcher', 'Champion', 'Landholder', 'Knight of Toussaint', 'Savior of the Realm', and many more both couth and uncouth. It took only moments to provoke a bark of amusement from the Witcher even as he released the handle of the axe and turned to face his Majordomo.
"Enough! Enough. Round to you, B.B.," he said with a fond smile on his lips as he extended his hand to clasp that of his Majordomo in a fond shake. It was a game that both had begun to play with one another in the months of their acquaintance. Every time Geralt tried to play the put-upon false noble card, B.B. would counter with a level of butlerian snide that was unassailable.
"I believe that makes the score at-," B.B. was about to tease further while Geralt raised his hand to still him with a pained look.
"I know you're winning, B.B., no need to rub it in."
A warm smile broke the facade of Barnabas-Basil's expression, and he fondly inclining his head to his friend, "I still must say, sir, you remain one of the most... pleasant and unique... members of the gentry that I have ever served."
This further reminder of his legitimate status as a member of Toussaint's noble class gave the Witcher a look of pain once again. But, with a sigh, he allowed himself to relax into the reality. A fact he only needed to be reminded of every... other day or so.
He WAS getting better.
He was!
"Enough then. So, how is Marlene?," questioned the Witcher with a look of pointed curiosity. There was a hint of teasing in his words, as well as sincere interest. Ever since rescuing the once baron's daughter from her curse, her continued presence in Corvo Bianco had been a boon. Her culinary skills were excellent, despite her years as a Spotted Wight. And while initially her appearance was a haggard and old woman, once she had recovered from the majority of the effects of curse, she had begun to restore herself and put both meat back on her bones and regain femininity lost in the years of her curse.
Barnabas-Basil cleared his throat slightly, a look of vague discomforted crossing his features, "She is quite well, Geralt. Lady Yennefer's magical treatments have done wonders to allow her to resume a more normal existence after the horrors she witnessed and experienced."
Geralt's look was knowing. Yennefer herself had taken the woman under her tender care once she had moved into the estate, offering and practicing a level of magic upon the victimized woman that allowed her to retake some of her lost years. When Yen had finished, Marlene had turned out to be rather striking, and her close friendship with Barnabas-Basil had turned into something more. Marlene had moved into the Majordomo's home on the property and the pair had been seen walking out and sharing very happy times together.
"It makes me happy to hear that, B.B. For all she has suffered, she needs your kind of stability in her life. You make a great pair," intoned Geralt with real pleasure in his words, and satisfaction. Happy endings were rare in his line of work, and seeing the victim of such a hideous curse find some joy with such a good friend filled him with a subtle pride.
For his part, the Majordomo's cheeks had colored slightly and he cleared his throat with some abashedness, "Moving on. I see the lady Yennefer has finally finished removing the scars from your encounter with the vampiress..." He motioned to Geralt's left cheek and neck. A small shot sent back the way of his master in turn.
Rather then responding with similar emotion, Geralt's amusement rose, "As she said 'The only woman's claw marks allowed to be seen on your body, Geralt of Rivia, are mine.'"
Responding with a butler's reserved chortle, Barnabas-Basil nodded, "That is our Lady Yennefer for you... and why hasn't she done the same for your facial scar and the others?" He asked this with real concern. In his mind, a Lord would usually strive for a perfection of features usually only available through magical means. And with Geralt romantically involved with such a legendary and powerful sorceress, the Majordomo had long assumed she would do the same for Geralt.
Geralt slowly shook his head in response, "She actually rather enjoys my scars. Says they add character, and that she wouldn't know what to do with me if I was the baby-faced youth I was when we first met." This is said with a hint of mockery in turn. At no point in his life had the Witcher ever been such a thing, but his years of life and long road had certainly marked him over the last years. Geralt, himself, wouldn't have it any other way. "Yen was just rather particular about that one."
The Butler nodded, folding his arms behind his back as his right hand took his left wrist in a relaxed pose, "Considering who gave it to you, I am honestly glad to see that you will not be carrying a reminder of that... child killer... for the rest of your days." Distaste and anger was in his words. After the fall of the Beast of Beauclair, other vampires and their... proclivities... were rooted out of society. Geralt himself felt a pang of remorse. If he had chosen to go after Orianna that fateful night, perhaps he could have stopped her then. Instead he had taken a different route, and by the time he went to looking the former high society figure had vanished into the night.
That was, until he had found her.
That had been a night to remember...
Shaking his head, Geralt turned back to the stump and gripped the axe, as Barnabas-Basil considered him. He watched Geralt raise and lower the axe another time before commenting over the clattering of falling wood, "Would you be needing anything special ordered today, sir? Or will it remain business as usual?"
Geralt paused in picking up the pieces of fresh firewood, "Could you place an order for some more bottles of White Wolf from Liam and Matilda?" The story behind the heirs of two of the largest vineyards in Toussaint breaking off their familial feud and finding love had become a popular tale, along with his role in it. It made him quite pleased that in these days he would not have to ask for their first born child in payment... settling instead for bottles of the wine they had named for him in honor of the uniting of their vineyards and the solving of the conspiracy to drive them both out of business. It helped that both Yen and himself had quickly found the wine to be one of their favorite locally produced vintages, topping even that his own vineyard produced.
B.B. clicked his heels smartly, "Of course. I will send a runner at once. With their speedy service and your continued friendship, they likely will fast courier some over by tomorrow."
Geralt nodded, "Could you see if you could get one by tonight? I have some plans to celebrate with Yen." He added this by way of explanation. The axe was swung again, this time simply burying into the empty stump. "I have some potion brewing to do." He had used the last of his supplies of Black Blood in the fight with Orianna, and rumors of another rogue vampire in the north parts of Toussaint had reached his ears. It was only a matter of time before a contract was posted, and he wanted to be ready. "And make sure to send some bottles of Sepremento in kind," he included, even as he added with a hint of sadness in his voice, "I hear Matilda is expecting and Liam will be sure to want to celebrate."
There wasn't a day that went by that either himself or the woman he loved did not regret the fact that they could not have children together. Ciri had been everything they could have hoped for in a daughter, but both of them had long ago resigned to their mutual fates. His sterility from the witcher mutations, her barren womb from her awakening as a sorceress.
B.B. smiled with fond understanding, and nodded in acknowledgment, "It will be done. I leave you to your day, sir." With that the proper Majordomo turned trotting off to set the affairs of the vineyard in order... and to spend some time with Marlene.
Out amongst the outbuildings and resident quarters of the vineyard, the children continued to play. Their laughter marking a bright and happy moment in a day that was soon to turn... very dark indeed.
Another world, another dawn.
Celestia's sun rose in slow majesty over the land of Equestria, drawn from the far side of the world in its slow, majestic spin around the stationary world of Equus. With it came the setting of the moon, slipping into silent, lonely slumber and sent around to continue its march across the far side of the world over lands unknown and uncharted to ponykind.
And for the first time in years, the moon was sent to bed without the presence of its Mistress...
For a thousand years Princess Celestia had maintained the orbit of both heavenly spheres alone, and to do so again without the guidance of her sister after regaining her from the darkness sent a wave of grief through the majestic ruler of the Diarach. Lavender eyes watched it go with sadness, even as her thoughts were filled with the night's events. With the morning there would be questions, as many compared notes about the strange, lucid dream they had all shared. Equus as a whole would come to understand that whatever had happened, it was an experience that they had all come to share.
Her heavenly mane of sky blue, aquamarine, and pink rippled in silence, as the Princess of the Sun stood deep in thought at the terrace where both she and her sister usually stood for such intimate moments as fulfilling their duty and talent. Bringing life and care to the inhabitants of their world, and sharing quiet and heartfelt love for one another as the celestial spheres did their dance.
Celestia's thoughts ran deep, her mind churning with the images she had seen. After so many long years, a human visage had been seen in Equestria... and the cost of it had been great. Yet despite the suffering it had caused, she could not help but feel mixed emotions. Long ago, three young humans had come to their world on the backs of pegasi, flying over the rainbow itself to bring Harmony to the world. The vision of this new human, and the monstrous woman he had fought, elicited emotion of many kinds, from hope to fear to doubt to joy. She thought of his face, care worn and scarred. And his eyes, so different then those of those of any other human, even though of the kind through the Mirror, filled her with strange emotion all its own.
Long had her sister and she known of Starswirl's Mirror, and while the humans beyond it were not as she had known, they were fascinatingly mirrored beings of Equestria. A parallel world in the many in the cosmos, but clearly not the one their original benefactors had come from. It had been Starswirl's original objective to find the world where that kind, blond haired girl and her siblings had returned to. Perhaps bridge the gap of space and time and allow a reunion of friendship and family to reform.
It made her sad that it was seemingly not to be.
A sigh escaped her, even as she rose to all four hooves. Turning, she trotted slowly towards the shared antechamber that served as the breakfast nook for herself and her sister, her ethereal mane and tail rippling behind her as she walked with slow, regal strides. Carefully she constructed her mask as she moved, the care worn sadness on her features, the grief, the worry, the doubt. All were washed away in the mask of regal perfection she forced herself to wear in moments like this. She could not trouble her little ponies by showing her how troubled she truly was.
She was joined in moments by Raven Inkwell, her ever loyal aide.
"Good morning, Princess," gently spoke the smaller mare. Unlike many, she was fully informed of the current situation. "Lord Starswirl is with your sister, as you requested. He is doing what he can for her, along with the Royal Physicians, but the magical exhaustion that is affecting her is being exacerbated by whatever magic that caused last night's little show."
Celestia turned her head, giving Raven a gentle nuzzle which startled the smaller mare, but was quickly returned, "Thank you, Raven. And the messages?"
Raven nodded, examining her clipboard, "Princess Cadenza is on her way. Prince Armor is seeing to the care of the Empire while she is gone. She left immediately after receiving your message after you took your sister to her rooms. She will be here very shortly and intends to teleport as soon as she is in range. Prince Armor will see to it that whatever trouble last night's events cause in the Empire will be contained and their people calmed."
Celestia nods, her wings settling to her sides, "How about the Ambassadors?"
Again checking her clipboard, Raven speaks smartly as her tail flicks, "Only the Griffon Ambassador is in residence, and will attend you this morning. The ambassadors from the Minotaur, Zebra, and Thorax's Changelings are not in residence and messages have been sent by dragonfire crystals requesting they attend as soon as may be."
Another gentle nod given, the Princess trots to her usual place in the breakfast nook, "A pity about the Changelings and Minotaurs, I would have really liked their input on the meeting. The Zebra might take last night as a prophetic dream, and thanks to Luna little more then that. Perhaps one of the Shaman might understand the nature of last night's attack, but few else. As to the... other... Ambassador. I have tended to that personally."
Raven gives a slight wince at the mention of the other ambassador, even as she makes a note on her clipboard. "And Princess Twilight?"
Celestia smiles a fond smile, "I already sent a message to her via Spike. She should be arriving as soon as she gathers her friends." A pause, "I will have to make a note to ask her if she could send a message to Sunset Shimmer. She might be in another world, but she is still of this one. I do not know if she was affected, but perhaps--"
A bright magenta flash of light cuts off the Solar Diarach as the small lavender alicorn herself appears in a sudden flash of light. It is followed in only moments by the smaller shape positively hurling herself into the larger alicorn with a cry of, "Princess!"
Celestia, not seemingly phased in the slightest, catches Twilight in a sudden and fierce embrace. Her great white wings spreading to both cushion the impact and gently embrace her dearest student to her. Her head dips, and the two share a private and intimate moment of mutual reassurance before they part, "Dear Twilight... I'm glad you made it."
Twilight, feathers ruffled and body still looking worn out from a night's restless recording of every little detail of the dream, responds with her usual exuberance, "Oh Princess... Last night was so confusing... and terrible. I've tried to make sense of it, but I just can't. It wasn't an attack from a nightmare from the Dreamscape, nor was it some kind of psychic intrusion... and those images! That fight! I can't understand what happened. And poor Princess Luna,--"
Celestia gently cuts off her student with a gilded hoof to her muzzle, "I know, Twilight. Starswirl and I both have been trying to figure out what happened. Its left us completely at a loss."
Twilight, gently shaking her head, settles back onto her haunches as she looks up, "How... how is Luna?"
Celestia closes her eyes, her voice quiet and soft, "In a coma. Her magical exhaustion was immense. She has reverted back to the more pure form, like she was after you and the others cleansed her of the Nightmare. Starswirl is using his techniques to help her recover, as are the Physicians... but the magic of the attack is still lingering in her body."
Twilight bows her head, shuddering, "The feeling of it was so... wrong. It came... across the same flow of magic as the power of Harmony does when we tap into the Elements. I couldn't do anything to protect myself, or anyone else. I... I should have--"
Celestia shakes her head, nuzzling at her student's ears, "Be at ease, Twilight. It was ever Luna's domain to be the Mistress of Dreams, as is fitting. Your powers do not run along the same lines as hers do. I, too, was helpless before the vision. Try as I might, I was locked in slumber and forced to feel it slip through the very bonds of Harmony to all my little ponies..."
Twilight looks up sharply, "It-It wasn't your fault either, Princess. I mean, I even went to the Tree last night... it looked... well." She shakes her head.
Celestia, looking deeply concerned, prompts gently, "What did it look like, Twilight?"
Twilight winces, "...I can't really describe it but..." Her voice drops into a whisper, "...like it was afraid ."
Celestia blinks, then murmurs, "How--- how could it look afraid?"
With a helpless look, Twilight responds, "I don't know. The Tree was trembling softly. The Elements were glowing like they were active and ready to protect the Tree."
Celestia gives one sharp inhale, then lets it out, "So the very thing that binds us, binds our world together, was somehow used to convey this vision to us..."
Twilight shakes her head, "I-- I know you said I should have gotten the others and came by train. But I wanted to see you first. I'll go back and get them. I-- couldn't wait to see you after last night, when I read your message. I had Spike go and start contacting everyone after he woke up Starlight so everyone will be at the Castle when I get back."
Celestia smiles an understanding and benevolent smile to the mare she helped raise from foalhood, feeling nothing more then a deep, motherly affection for this child not of her blood, "Its alright, Twilight. I understand. The nightmare scared me too."
By this time, the ever dutiful Raven has already withdrawn, leaving the two Alicorns alone. And in those quiet moments, there was nothing but peace between them as they let the darkness of the night before wash away in the warmth of one another's company. Instinct, emotion, and shared experience allowing the two of them to draw strength from one another in those intimate moments. It filled Celestia and Twilight both with memories of the latter's youth, and the times when Celestia had held the young filly as she trembled from fear in the night.
Their quiet moment is interrupted by mutual growls. Growls that make both blink, look at each other, then erupt into laughter. "It seems breakfast is in order," speaks the Solar Princess with gentle warmth as her horn flickers into a gentle glow. A small cord in a niche is covered in the golden light of her magic and is pulled, causing a bell to ring outside for the duty servers. "We both must be strong for the coming storm. And perhaps it is better that your friends wait for you in your castle. That way you can all be on hand if the Map delivers a warning. With Spike there a message can be gotten to us quickly enough for you to return home and gather the troops."
Twilight nods, moving away from her mentor and taking a seat beside her. Her smaller wings remain in contact with Celestia's larger, both of them taking comfort in each other's continued presence in the wake of events and the word of Luna's continued situation. "You're probably right. Its likely for the best. Would you please send Spike a message for me? I want to make sure they don't all charge up here now."
Celestia, ever benevolent in her grace, nods in turn, "Of course, Twilight. It would be my pleasure."
The doors to the breakfast nook open, and server ponies quickly trot into the room carrying platters of pancakes, eggs, and hash browns as attentive ponies quickly set the table for both Princesses and begin to serve tea and pour fresh squeezed orange juice. A cavalcade of multicolored ponies in their white chef's outfits and two swiftly moving maids quickly tending to their needs.
"I could really use some coffee right now...," moans Twilight softly, and as if on queue, a softly pink figure trots in through the open doors, her purple, magenta, and blond tri-color mane and tail swirling behind her with the speed of her movements.
"You and me both, Twili. You and me both," quips the Princess of Love and Empress of the Crystal Empire, "Hello, Auntie!"
Twilight, beaming, calls out, "Cadance!" And with complete abandon, she raises her wings to give a gentle flap, sending herself flying over to the taller mare and both perform their ever adorable greeting. Much to the chagrin of the watching servers and maids. And the gentle, loving smile of Princess Celestia fills the room with contentment.
Sunshine sunshine, ladybugs awake! Clap your hooves and do a little shake!
"Hello, my dear niece. Come. Join us. We have much to talk about and plan," greets Celestia and motions with one wing to the place to her other side. A place usually reserved for her sister. A fact that only briefly sours the happy mood both sisters share at their greeting before they move in on either side of the larger Princess and lean in for a nuzzling hug before taking their places. "But first... breakfast," coos Celestia softly, as the third setting is quickly placed and the maids and servers withdraw from the room, leaving the Princess in a relatively peaceful morning.
"So," asks Cadance as she fills her place with pancakes with the blue aura of her magic, pouring on syrup and adding butter with equal aplomb, "Tell me everything..."
And as the three Princesses settle down to a breakfast and talk, some distance above them an ancient pony unicorn of immense power sits by the side of the now diminished Lunar Princess. Gently holding her hoof as his bearded head is bowed, horn aglow as magic flows into the sleeping, comatose Diarach.
And in her dreams, the Princess of the Night can hear him .
He began... to sing...
Another world, another morning.
Geralt, shouldering his baldric in one fluid movement, walks with casual ease as the swords on his back provide a familiar and reassuring weight. Stepping down the stairs from the manor house, he strode over his land with the walk of one at peace. It was another morning, a day where he could relax, spend his hours with the woman he loved, and enjoy the fruits of long earned labor. Still, with the swords on his back, Geralt couldn't help but fall into the easy walk drilled into him over and over again. The stride of a man ready, at a moment's notice, to draw his blade and wield it. Memory filled him of the years spent in Kaer Morhen under the watchful gaze of Vesemir.
The laughing children sprinting across his path was met, however, not with alarm but a quick pirouette and dodge to the side as their laughter and games continued. His small smile grew for a moment, even as he approached the stable for his companion in arms.
"Good morning, Roach," rumbled the Witcher even as he reached down to produce a fresh apple from a pocket. With a contented nicker, the tall chestnut mare trotted forward to meet him and accepted the treat with a swift crunch as she took the apple in her large teeth. Geralt's hand gently brushed through her mane and along her long neck, "I'll take you out for some exercise later. Maybe visit that stallion down the road, huh? Would you like that?" A playful butt of the Mare's head was his only response, provoking a laugh as he gave her one last fond pat before heading towards the herb gardens.
The gardens were originally set aside by the former owner's wife, and had since been re-purposed and replanted by Geralt's request. Instead of decorative flowers, each bush and flower, hedge and vine in the gardens served a purpose; to provide top quality alchemy ingredients. It was husbanded and tended carefully, with plants being relaid as needed. A hint of magic in the soil and stones of the garden, paid for by the former owner, greatly sped the growth and cultivation of the various herbs and bushes.
And so he set to work, picking up a pair of pruning shears from the little alcove in which they hung, the Witcher began to tend and gather, nurture and prune.
Deep into his work, Geralt of Rivia found himself growing nervous. Instinct well honed begin to scream a warning. Rather then reveal his foreknowledge of the danger, however, he merely set himself... crouched low over a hellebore bush. Carefully gathering the petals of the toxic plant with the gentle care the task required, body tensing as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand straight.
To the side, at the end of the row, the children that had been playing all morning had gathered and were crouched down together in an attitude of conspiracy.
It was, at that very moment, that for Geralt of Rivia...
...the world froze.
The children began to sing.
His smile fair as spring, as towards him he draws you; His tongue sharp and silvery as he implores you.
Geralt, motionless, could only listen as his heart beat like a drum inside his chest.
Wishes he grants, as he swears to adore you, Gold, silver, jewels - he lays riches before you.
Slowly his gloved hand closed into a fist, crushing the fragile purple petals in his grip.
Dues need be repaid and he will come for you All to reclaim, no smile to console you.
In what seemed like the only movement in all the world, the Witcher rose slowly to his feet... his hand opening to let the ruined petals fall to the earth below.
He'll snare you in bonds, eyes glowing afire To gore and torment you till the stars expire!
Raising his head, golden eyes, glowing with an inner fire of rage... looked upon the figure that stood on one of built up stone terraces of the garden above him. Silhouetted against the rising sun, a man of utter ordinary stature stood. The man was so ordinary, in fact, that one could miss him in a crowded room, or simply walk by without ever realizing he was there.
But for Geralt of Rivia, looking upon the smiling, ordinary man... it was like looking into a gaping pit to hell. He felt all his hopes, all his dreams of a peaceful, ordinary life come crashing down around him. His body taut, his eyes burning. He could only look upon the figure above him, and if he had it in his heart, or knew of any god who could hear him in that moment... he would have begun to pray.
"Good morning, Geralt," said Gaunter O'Dimm.
Author's Note
The majesty of Canterlot loomed in the bright morning light, as within its halls ponies trotted this way and that on official business. The world had not changed overnight, despite the strange dream that everypony had on their lips. Hustle and bustle continued, and life moved on. The power of Harmony spun and danced from native to native, weaving things back into place from what might have been. Yet, still, not all were so complacent.
In the grand castle itself, in the breakfast nook where so much of the ruling of Equestria was shared and discussed, three Princesses sat together in deep discussion as they finished their meals. The warm scent of such delicious vittles that the castle's expert culinary experts could provide made the room feel warm and safe, despite the chill still wrapping the bones of three of the beings so intimately connected to the planet's Harmony. Raising a cup of tea to her lips, Princess Celestia sipped carefully and easily, her golden magic enveloping the delicate porcelain. She inhaled the rich aroma, letting it sooth her, even as she listened to her adoptive niece.
"So," Cadence finished off a final piece of hay bacon as she spoke, "This dream was neither prophecy nor portent, but something else. The events showing two strange creatures... one of which possibly akin to... other residents."
Celestia perked at this, glancing to Twilight Sparkle who too looked curious. Knowledge of the Sanguinarian Ponies was relegated mostly to myth and legend, yet they too were part of this world. She briefly worried again at how the Sanguinarians were taking the events of the night, witnessing a Human killing an obvious Vampire, a humanoid one, but a Vampire non-the-less.
Twilight spoke softly, "You mean the Sanguinarians are actually out there... all the lore on them is rather scant, but--" She trailed off, shaking her head and making her own tri-color mane shake as she considered the implications, and asked obvious questions, "How do they feed? Are they safe? Are the legends true?"
Celestia, giving a gentle sigh, spoke softly, "The Sanguinarian are safe, dear Twilight. They have been a part of the kingdom for centuries. All the old stories and fiction are just that; stories and fiction. They do live longer then normal ponies, and require blood to live, but not as much as you would expect. Long ago Luna made allies of them, and while they are not harmed by the Sun as the legends say, they are distinctly nocturnal."
Twilight perked, "So the Thestrals are--?"
Celestia shook her head gently, "Not all of them, but a significant number of Sanguinarian are among their number. They exist across all the Tribes. We see to their needs, and their own abilities help them see to their own. They find the taking of life abhorrent, and feeding from the unwilling to be a ghastly act... I expect I will need to calm them soon. Last night's vision of that otherworldly vampire--"
Cadance nodded, "The original Sanguinarian was a member of the Crystal Ponies, though Sombra's rise saw to it they were either driven out or were hunted down during his time." She frowned, relating this. "When the Empire returned, the sanguinarians were some of the first to return to the Empire to help rebuild and reunite with ponies they had not seen in a thousand years..." She trailed off, and sighed, "The Matriarch is a dear friend of mine, and while they suffered when Nightmare Moon rose, they thankfully have been able to survive as well as the Thestrals."
Absorbing this information, Twilight nodded, "They will need to be reassured that we know they are nothing like the creature we saw... that... woman." She shuddered, "She was so beautiful, at first... and became that-- thing. It was terrifying watching her bite the Hunter. Though that proved to be the end of her thanks to the potion the golden-eyed hunter had taken." She murmured, "If only I knew what was in that potion, it would be amazing to know what it could be adapted to."
Cadance sighed, levitating a glass of milk to her lips to drink before replying, "We will need to assure them that we won't be developing something like that JUST to attack them. The Sanguinarian are peaceful and are as a part of this kingdom as the Thestrals, Pegasi, Unicorns, and Earth Ponies. Just more... secretive. The idea of vampire hunters running around with potions that can turn their blood to acid would be pretty terrifying to them."
Celestia inclined her head in agreement, "I've already called for the 'Ambassador', Light Speaker, and we will assure them that this will not be the case. Still, this will likely give a rise to more anti-vampire stories. They will need some careful control to assure no one things dangerous vampires walk among us. But that is only one of our problems."
Twilight pursed her lips, "Yes. Whoever sent this dream and the intent behind it. It was clearly malicious. And there is still no rational explanation as to why. This being resembled the Humans from beyond the Mirror, but so unlike them, in lack of distinct skin coloration more then anything else. Bipedal, as they are, and tall as a minotaur. So strong and fierce, and brave to face that monster vampire. Those hands and that skill, along with his eyes. There is no record of any such creature existing in Equestria. Ever."
Cadance, glancing to Twilight and nodding, frowned in confusion. She then blinked in surprise as she watched her Aunt smile serenely and shake her head. "...Auntie? Do you know something."
Princess Celestia, looking upon the two younger Alicorns, smiled her serene smile, even as a hint of sadness filled her beautiful violet eyes.
"I do indeed, dear Cadance. And you see, my dear Twilight, there is a reason for that. That man, whoever he is, was indeed a Human."
Both younger Alicorns blinked in surprise, Twilight nodding with her own understanding, both curious as to Celestia's familiarity with the species.
Twilight asked softly, "You know this because of the mirror? Or is it something else? No humans have ever been recorded as having existed in Equestria, or having ever been seen here."
Cadance shook her own head, looking at her Aunt in confusion and curiosity.
"That, my dear Twilight, is the way it was supposed to be," replied Celestia in a calm manner, her eyes gentle and tone instructive. It seemed they would be learning more of this strange human then they had thought.
"Good morning, Geralt," said Gaunter O'Dimm
Geralt of Rivia looked into those familiar cold, empty, pitiless eyes. His mind raced even as his body was still. The world around him had... stopped. He looked this way and that, and beheld the vineyard workers frozen in place, the children who had been singing now utterly motionless. Turning his head, he looked up and saw a flock of birds utterly still in the sky. The very wind itself had frozen in the utter, empty stillness imposed by this mild seeming monster... who displayed a level of power beyond anything and anyone who the Witcher had ever encountered. Time manipulation was a level of magic beyond any mortal mage or sorceress.
This, his second time being exposed to it, drove again the point home into Geralt's mind. This was not a being he could face directly. His internal monologue rumbled as he thought, So he is back. I cannot let this turn violent, despite my feelings. Yennefer is in the house only a short distance away, but its unlikely she is even awake. Probably frozen with the rest of the world.
"Hello, O'Dimm," rumbled that voice into the stillness, those golden eyes looking into those of Gaunter without hesitation. He knew Gaunter was a being of terrible power, and to offend him was to court death. He knew that. Yet still he couldn't let the moment stand. "I would say it was good to see you again, but I would be lying. I am a terrible liar."
Gaunter smiled, the smile changing his features from an impassivity to jolly good humor. He looked the kind of man you could share a mug of ale with and be quite satisfied with the company, "Oh Geralt. I think I have missed your wit the most. It is quite strange how you claim to be an emotionless killing machine, yet you have a sense of humor that could make a stone chortle." Turning from his position atop the rise of soil and stone that separated the ledges of the herb garden, Gaunter began to saunter down the row, and motioning, beckoned Geralt to follow him.
Not having any other options, Geralt followed, his hand still gripping his sword baldric. He itched to swing it onto his back and go for a sword, but he knew they would be useless in the moment.
"I am a real laugh riot, I know," intoned the Witcher in response, waiting a clear moment when he clearly wasn't about to interrupt the being above and beside him. Interrupting Gaunter O'Dimm was a mistake no one would make twice. "I thought our business was concluded," he continued. "I... succeeded."
Gaunter, rather then looking offended, chuckled, "You beat me? Oh yes, Geralt. Yes, you did. But really... did you think that would be the end? I told you when you drew me from the water-- oh yes, you couldn't understand me at that point." Shaking his head. "Our little game is over, yes, Geralt. But that doesn't mean we cannot begin another."
Geralt stopped mid-stride, and put his foot down to let Gaunter take a few more steps ahead, looking directly at him. Inside his head, what passed for screaming was happening. But to others it would seem far less an internal bit of gibbering, but for the Witcher to have his emotions in such a turmoil was something special. Inwardly he wanted to rant, to roar, to tell this horror to go to the hells that spawned him. Outside, however, he was a blank wall as fit his kind. People were often told the Witchers were a changed species, their emotions dulled and they nothing but cold, emotionless killers. Such was actually a tale that the Witchers allowed to be believed.
While it was true Witchers were a reserved, dour lot, in truth the result of that was not from the extensive mutations, but rather their training. To be taken as a child and forced through some of the most harsh and dangerous training the world had ever known, to be set on a Path where it will be only yourself versus the monsters. It tended to render most Witchers... taciturn. If not downright sociopathic, as he had seen on some occasions in Witchers of other schools, let alone his own. The Mutations did have a dulling effect, yes, but the mask that the Witchers wore was a product more of their own harsh lives and their need to cope with it, rather then chemical and magical alterations. One needed only look at the others of the school of the Wolf to see the differences in how a mind took both mutation and the trials placed before them to become what they were.
At this point, however, had Geralt not had both to draw upon... he would likely have died. Speaking his mind to Gaunter O'Dimm at this point was tantamount to suicide. Yet still, he had to have his say.
"If you're here about another job, Gaunter... you can take it and go." So tame, so emotionless his words. Even as inside he was snarling. The Wolf baring its fangs behind his golden eyes, wishing for a throat to bite. "I have seen what you do, Gaunter O'Dimm... more then once. I have stood before you and faced your challenge. At this moment, in this place, I deny you. The answer is simple; No."
Gaunter, having walked forward and down the slope, stood a short distance ahead of Geralt. His back to the Witcher, seemingly vulnerable, yet far from it. Without seeing his face, the Witcher could not judge his emotion. But the utter stillness that had taken Gaunter in those moments made him wonder. The mind of this being was utterly alien to him. Gaunter spoke then, causing Geralt to tense up as he would if expecting a blow.
"Is this... about your retirement?"
Geralt frowned, wondering at Gaunter's point. But in the end, it was. And he replied so, "It is. I have followed my Path. With no small thanks to you, O'Dimm. I remember White Orchard. I remember little journey together. I have what I was seeking. I have done what I set out to do. I am done."
Gaunter O'Dimm... laughed. Threw back his head and laughed! The moment was so shocking that it drove the Witcher back a pace before he regained his equilibrium. And he listened.
"Humans have been known in our world beyond the glimpses into alternate worlds that Starswirl began with the use of his mirrors," spoke Celestia gently to the two raptly attentive alicorns across from her. "Long long ago... a human girl and her two siblings walked this world, shortly before my birth. Her name was Megan. And she helped the ancient tribes a great deal... and brought forth a power that would one day become something very important."
Celestia levitated her glass up to sip, even as Twilight twitched in excitement. It was rare that Celestia spoke of the days before herself and her sister were born, and legend and lore, along with all recorded history, was sparse at best. Excitedly Twilight chirped a question as Celestia sipped, "Was this before Discord's reign?"
Celestia nodded as she replaced her cup into its saucer, "Hundreds of years before. Thankfully Megan and her family never had to deal with his ways, nor the chaos that erupted. Though part of me wishes she had returned to aid our little ponies. My sister and myself were still young then, not yet fully come into our power. It would be a long time before we were ready to challenge Discord and set the world on its proper course. Though, to be fair, Discord's presence arose in some ways because of what Megan and her siblings did..."
Cadance, who had been silently absorbing the information, blinked in surprise, "How is that? She didn't... what? Was she--"
Celestia shook her head gently as Twilight looked from Cadance to her in slight confusion to dawning realization, "No no. She wasn't his creator, or his mother. But Discord's very power comes from Harmony. They are a balanced pair, one not able to exist without the other. And Harmony had not fully come into its power until Megan planted the Tree of Harmony by sacrificing the Rainbow of Light."
Twilight gasped, "The Tree of Harmony! But that means..."
Celestia and Cadance shared a glance before the matronly Princess continued, "Yes, Twilight. It was by Megan's hand that the Elements of Harmony were born, and because of her you and the other Bearers hold them now."
Twilight shakes her head, awe sparkling in her eyes, "But... what of the girl, this Megan? Where did she get this 'Rainbow of Light'? How did she help the ponies of old? What-- what happened to her?" Her wings were poised and her horn's light was searching out a quill so she could write down all she had learned, already feeling the need to take notes.
Celestia's response to Twilight's words was to go silent, a look of sadness crossing over her features. It was clear this story carried a great deal of weight with the Solar Diarch. And a great deal of pain.
Cadance too looked at her Aunt in curiosity, noticing the reticence in her expression and clear sadness. She spoke gently, trying to sooth her aunt, "Considering all this together... its unlikely that this vision of a human, carried in on the lines of Harmony itself, and the fact that the Tree of Harmony was planted BY a human are unlinked. We'll probably need the whole story, auntie. I'm sorry if this pains you..."
Celestia let out a gentle sigh, "It is not so much that... as it is a story that is linked to many things. Including my mother, and how Luna and I came to be... and then her passing. It is a grief still sharp, for no matter how many years that pass... you never forget losing your mother." Closing her violet eyes as she loses herself in the moment. "I would wish it turned out differently, in the end. But such can never be." To her surprise, she felt the weight of two smaller forms pressing up against her as both Twilight and Cadance pressed in to wrap their wings about the larger Alicorn, their barrels pressing supportively against her own. Celestia opened her eyes to look and found Twilight's eyes full of sympathy and the love of a daughter for a mother, while Cadance's own eyes were filled with understanding. An orphan herself, the Princess of Love knew Celestia and Luna's pain deeply, though Celestia had quickly assumed a similar role in her own life.
Celestia, smiling, nuzzled first one then the other, "Oh my dear sweet Twilight... my darling Cadance..." She inhaled once, strengthening herself, then spoke, "The story began a long time ago in a magical place called... 'Dream Valley'."
The laughter of Gaunter O'Dimm seemed to fill the still and silent world.
But what came next stunned the Witcher even more, as the plain, ordinary man turned and walked right up to him. Gaunter always seemed just slightly shorter, just slightly more unassuming to the Witcher. But now, like when they faced one another 'on the moon', the wish peddler was looking him right in the eye. His expression though was not angry, but fondly bemused. Like a father who was gently chiding his child.
"Geralt of Rivia. Done? Nevermore to walk the Path? Oh, please, Geralt, you and I both know that you are lying to yourself. You and your lady love."
It took every ounce of control in Geralt not to interrupt, but control he had. So he remained silent, despite wishing fervently that he could tell Gaunter to go to hell for even mentioning Yennefer. The very thought of them in this close a proximity filled him with a dread so deep that it chilled his very bones. Not seeming to notice Geralt's internal war, Gaunter continued as he raised his hands to motion around them.
"You think this little vineyard enough to contain you? YOU?! Not to mention Yennefer. You are both lying to yourselves. You both are only reaching or exceeding your first centuries. Vesemir of Kaer Morhen was over THREE and he still fought to protect your little Swallow when the Hunt came."
The very mention of that event was enough to cause Geralt's hand to tighten on the scabbard of the sword in his hand. A creaking that did not go unnoticed by Gaunter, who, rather then looking offended at the obvious threat, smiled as if Geralt had proven his point. Turning in place and stepping back, grandly motioning to the world around them, he continued without remorse as he pounded truth and facts into the Witcher. For so long had he and Yennefer wanted to leave the spheres of life they both inhabited, to find only themselves and silence and peace. To be normal. A dream both of them had yearned for...
"Even now, Geralt, you long to draw that sword and strike me down... only you know you can't. I am a foe beyond you, as you well know. Those blades you carry can never, will never taste my flesh. Even now, you are desperately searching for a way out of this. But you cannot do it... by lying to yourself." He pointed harshly at Geralt, accentuating each point with a twitch of his hand to drive it home, "You and Yennefer have centuries more on this world, this continent. Do you think it will possibly forget you after what you have done?!" Gaunter's voice was no longer genial. It was accusing.
"The King of the Wild Hunt may be dead, his dreams of species domination of all worlds dead with him, but where are his people? They were not all killed, Geralt. The White Frost is defeated, Ciri saw to that... but without its presence to threaten them, the Aen Elle will be able to rebuild, strengthen their numbers... ...and come searching for the one who slew their king. Despite what good Avallac'h can do to try and change the destiny of his people, Eredin was not alone in his ambition! He never was!"
Throwing up his arms in exasperation, Gaunter turned and tossed his head back as he cried out to the still world, "And don't get me STARTED on the vampires! The Beast of Beauclair is dead, Geralt of Rivia, but the Unseen Elder knows you now. You did right in not going to see him, but he has gained your scent from his kindred and while you may have stayed in vampiric law and custom thanks to your dear friend... do you not think Detlaff had others that owed him in his centuries of life? Others, like Regis, who would come seeking the presumptuous mortal who dared strike down the immortal?"
Each sentence was a hammer blow into the heart of Geralt of Rivia. He thought that after saving Ciri that his task was done. He thought it was over. He thought he could be at peace. He thought Yennefer and he could find a place to finally find what they had long sought. The dire prophecies of doom being woven by the dark and terrible creature before him were trampling all over those dreams, as small and wonderful as they were. His face grew harder and harder, his eyes seeming to glow with ambient light of the beautiful sun above as he leveled them upon Gaunter O'Dimm. He sought to deny his words in any way, and found it difficult at best.
Have I been chasing an impossibility all this time?
"And lets not forget your dearest Child Surprise... the Lady of Worlds. She who can step from one world to the next as easily as you could cross this field," Gaunter motioned extravagantly to the fields of grape that were now, extensively, Geralt's property. "What worlds will she find on her travels? What dangers will she encounter? What new threats will she find to face? What wonders and worlds of technology or magic will her feet tred upon... and what will she bring back with her?"
Turning back to Geralt with the final question, Geralt narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, using his chin to indicate Gaunter even as he took the pause as a moment to reply, "And then there is you."
Gaunter, looking pleased, smiled beatifically to the Witcher as he clasped his hands before him in an almost benevolent way, "Oh yes. There is me. Me, me, me. You who played a game with a being beyond your understanding and somehow came out the victor... you who have found evidence of my other works." To Geralt's jerk of reaction, Gaunter nodded, "Oh yes... that was my doing. The woman needed to learn a lesson . And how you and Yennefer have restored her... and dear Marlene has even found a good, humble man who will show her the meaning of both love and generosity. Two qualities that, if she had possessed when she met me..." Gaunter trailed off, even as he began to approach Geralt slowly.
Geralt, for his part, remained still. Only the tightening groan of his gloves on the scabbard of the sword in the double baldric he carried giving lie to his apparent calm stillness. The White Wolf was ready to explode. He had all he had come to value thrown in his face. Every dream he had told to be a lie. Every victory he had won claimed to be nothing more then the next step in a struggle that showed no signs of stopping. Chaos awaited, surrounding his tiny dream home where he and the woman he loved thought they could find some sort of shelter... some surcease... an Ending.
"Geralt of Rivia. You are a fool ," spoke Gaunter O'Dimm as he approached, his brows lowered. "To think you could have a Happy Ever After ... while I still exist..."
With a shout of rage released, and a blur of movement, Geralt of Rivia attacked.
Into his hands came one of his two blades, the other dropped from the baldric as the long, curved sword so elegant and deadly spun into his hand in one fluid movement. It was foolish. It was stupid. But it was all he ever was. Defiance in the face of death. To walk his lonely Path and deny the darkness its due. And before him now was everything he had ever fought exemplified in one being. And with all that fury, with all that righteous rage, he attacked. The blade to hand had almost chosen itself. The sword given to him by the one who previous owed debt to this madman, this thing with a liar's face. The blade of Olgierd Von Everec, Iris, named for his beloved, glowed with a red light all its own beyond the runic enchantments etched into the blade by skilled artisan hands. If any blade had a right to taste the flesh of this man, it was this blade. The sword of the family that was utterly destroyed by Gaunter's machinations. It held within its steel length powerful enchantment, but also the vengeance of all those who had died to its edge, and the suffering, grief, and madness woven by this being before it all born in a solid length of pure steel vengeance.
And like it all meant nothing... Gaunter O'Dimm raised his hand, and caught the blade mid-stroke.
The ringing instant passed as silence and stillness overcame the world, after the sudden clash that sounded like metal striking metal. Golden cat's eyes looking into the empty dark pits that were the eyes of Gaunter O'Dimm. The smile on the creature's face was... terrifying to behold. For his features were no longer human. A hideous, twisted monster met Geralt's wrath with his bemusement, as sharp teeth gleamed in a sinister and amused smile. The jarring impact up the length of Iris made Geralt's shoulders ache from the force of the impact, yet still, holding the very blade, Gaunter stood. The eye locked stance maintained for an instant, before the world shifted, and once more there was the genial face of Gaunter O'Dimm there once more.
"Geralt, Geralt, Geralt... ...At last. You have begun to wake up from this dream."
Turning his head, Gaunter examined the blade in his hand, studying its angrily glowing length and the runes etched into its surface as he stood there unmoving. The full weight of Geralt's fury was still behind the blade's length, and yet Gaunter held it as if it were nothing but a stick a child had tried to wave at him. "To think you kept this... It IS a good sword, sure enough. Better with the augmentations and enchantments you had placed into it. But to choose Iris as your Steel over one of the other Witcher masterwork weapons you've acquired in your travels." He shook his head slowly, leveling his gaze at the Witcher. "I'll forgive you that. I had been trying to cause it, after all. But I see the White Wolf still lives, despite all rumor to the contrary..."
Geralt grunted, finding his focus and calm in moments. Dread washed over him at what he had done, but was keenly swept away. Fear was nothing but an emotion. Courage was a choice to overcome that emotion. He knew the figure before him now could strike him down or do worse to him, but to spit in his teeth was the only option he had left. "How magnanimous of you, O'Dimm," growled that deep, rumbling voice. "As for the blade, I never came upon one more worthy. Clearly, though, I should have drawn Silver."
Gaunter's laughter erupted again, even as he stepped back. But Geralt did not miss the fact that the hand Gaunter used to catch the blade was tucked behind him while the other was raised in amusement even as he motioned his acceptance of Geralt's words. "True enough, Geralt. True enough. Now, let us discuss the work you will be doing for me, shall we?"
Geralt snarled, spinning Iris around him and dropping into a fighting stance as he held the blade to the side of his face. Suspicions confirmed, he noticed the edge of Iris gleamed with something other then blood. A black oozing liquid ran along the blade slowly... dripping onto the soil at his feet as he stood there, "Enough, O'Dimm! There will be no more deals, no more challenges. I do not accept your contract. I will NEVER work for you again. Seeing all you have wrought before, you are nothing and no one I ever want to consort with again."
Gaunter only smiled, "Aaaaaah, but there you are wrong again, Geralt..." He almost purred the words as he began to circle the poised fighter, and with smooth, flowing movements, Geralt swept his stance to follow him. "...Especially when you hear what I am offering."
Geralt shook his head, "Never, O'Dimm. Your promises come with too high a price."
Gaunter's smile only deepened, the hand he caught the blade with kept still behind his back, and that sinister, inhuman face flickered into being for an instant before vanishing, "Even if I mean to make your little dreams... a reality... and give you and the woman you love what you have wanted to have together more then ANYTHING? Oh, Geralt... if you do this for me... I see children in your future."
"I already have a daughter," replied Geralt with simple dignity and profound truth.
In response, the demon peddler pointed at him again, "Not of your blood... not of your flesh..."
"As good as," Geralt snapped, "Now release me from this frozen hell and go. We're done O'Dimm." He rose from his fighting stance, leaning down to snatch up his baldric, was halted by O'Dimm's next words.
O'Dimm just smiled, spreading his hands again, "If you think that was all I was offering you, Geralt... you're mistaken. I am offering you... what you really want. Peace. For your friends. Your family. A new age has begun, thanks to your actions. A new world is upon us... ...one I intend to make so much more... interesting. If you help me, they will not come to harm. If you refuse, the new Conjunction I will bring forth will destroy everyone you love, everyone you care about..."
Geralt went perfectly still as he absorbed O'Dimm's words. One hand held Iris, still glowing ferociously in seeming demand for more, and the sheath and baldric that held his other blade, one no less ornate and no less treasured. Geralt slowly angled Iris and slammed it home with a hissing click of metal. "You lie. The Conjunction wasn't your doing."
O'Dimm crept forward, "Oh, but it waaaasssssss ..." The face once more changed, as did Gaunter's tone, turning more dark and sinister. "The Conjunction of the Spheres. Such a quaint name for 'invasion', don't you think? Fifteen hundred years ago this world felt my touch and saw rise to monsters and Elves and Dwarves and Halflings came to know their greatest enemy; Man. Think of it, Geralt of Rivia. What do you really KNOW about the Conjunction? And you know smaller ones have occurred... bringing new and varied creatures into this world. It has been, however, too long. Mankind has done its work. Its time for a Culling . Just like I did on your original world..."
Gaunter's claims grew more and more outlandish by the instant, but looking into those black pits, Geralt could only wonder. Did he do this? Did this being really cause the Conjunction of the Spheres? Did he destroy the human's original world and bring his ancestors to this one? Did he cause the vampires, ghouls, graviers, and others to be brought with them? Why? For what purpose? Geralt, in that moment, asked the only question he could ask as despair washed through him.
"The how in all the worlds could I have beaten a being that had the power to do that? I asked you before what you were, Gaunter. I remember you told me. That one time you would spare me and not grant my wish. You said all who know your true name our now dead, or have met a worse fate." He firmed himself, eyes narrowed in grim accusation, "I ask again. What the hell are you, Gaunter O'Dimm?"
O'Dimm paused, then shook his head slowly, once more looking like the man he was at the tavern where he had shown Geralt just how powerful he was for the first time. "...Again you ask. And again I say this... No, Geralt of Rivia. No. I will not tell you. I still need you, after all." Repeating and quoting himself, his smile wry as he winked, "As for how you beat me, you know how. I, like many others, have Rules. Rules that must be followed. I am no demon, djinn, or conjurer, nor am I anything you could dare dream. By those rules, you won!" He sounded actually pleased, smiling with pride at the Witcher, "Your soul and Olgierd's... and how marvelous it was! I was so enraged! But by my rules, my defeat stood. And in my defeat, my first in so long... I learned something."
A pregnant pause passed, and his dark eyes sparkled. "I learned the secret of something... someone... I've been searching for... for a very. long. time." Darkness passed over his features again, and that smile returned hideous and inhuman, before once more the genial man was once more there. Raising his hands, he clapped them once to emphasize his point, holding them before him clasped palm to palm without showing any sign of pain from having blocked a sword as he did.
Gaunter continued, "But know this, my promises are genuine. If you help me; you, Yennefer, your friends... all those whom you love will survive the coming storm. I will even protect you and hide you from those who would come for you. You and Yennefer will live in happiness. Where the Path will not find you again. And you, and her, will have children to keep you company. Isn't that a all you've ever wanted, Geralt? Truly?" He motioned his arms wide as if putting something on display, smiling broadly in the frozen world, "Well?"
Geralt of Rivia stood in utter silence for what seemed an age. Yet in this frozen world, where time itself stood still at the whim of this being, there was truly no limit to it. Or to the patience of the being across from the Witcher. O'Dimm merely stood expectantly, congenially. Promising such wonders, while offering horrors and truths that were terrifying if true. And this was Master Mirror. Why wouldn't they be?
"You love it so much. Give me some Time. I... am not alone anymore. I have to speak to...," turning his head, Geralt looked to the main house where he was certain the raven hair of his beloved splayed upon her pillow as she slept the morning away. Yennefer slept in late these days, content at the peace they had both achieved.
Gaunter only smiled, "Of course! Of course! That is the beauty of time, after all. Its always there for us when we need it. And I, am a man of limitless patience...." But then he stepped forward, "Know this, Geralt. This offer is for you only. She will have no part in this. I will await you at the crossroads. Come alone and at night... and you can tell me your decision..."
...and with that final word, the world resumed. Geralt of Rivia stood in stunned silence for long moments after... looking something he hadn't in a long time. Looking lost.
Author's Note
I hope you all have been enjoying my little take on crossing over the Witcher with Equestria. My goals are simple enough, but the next few chapters should see Geralt and Yennefer both within Equestria proper. This has been fun to write and a good learning experience for me. Reality has kept me from getting more done then I should have been, but I've worked out a lot of my ideas and am making plans for the future.
There is a lot of world building here and I simply have to do it justice on both sides of the equation before bringing the disparate halves together. Our villain needs his monologues with his favorite toy, Celestia needs to prepare her charges with a tale long forgotten, and steps have to be put into motion.
Gaunter O'Dimm's wishes for the two worlds are not good at all. And only time will tell if they can be thwarted.
As always, quite happily accepting all comments, feedback, whathaveyou. I do this without the guide of an editor and do my best, but always miss one or two things. Feel free to point them out and I hope they don't detract from the story I am trying to tell. My thanks for reading!
