A New World Revealed
“Dammit.”
A dark figure rises to her hooves, her beaten and battered form shaking. Her long blue hair falls around her crooked horn and over her green reptilian eyes. Her hole-filled front legs barely hold her weight.
My plan was falling into place perfectly. how could I lose? I had the princess defeated and my changelings were taking over. Then that wretch Cadence broke my spell on Shining Armor. I won’t be defeated this way! A scowl forms across Chrysalis’ face as she remembers how she got here. She was the only thing that came in the way of my victory! I’ll destroy that little wretch.
She tries to spread her insect-like wings and take off, but nearly collapses in a heap from the effort.
I’m too weak to fight now. I need to feed.
She finally takes the time to survey her surroundings. For miles nothing but trees, dirt and rocks make up the scenery, not a soul in sight but her scattered changeling minions trying to gather themselves up. They look similar to their queen; long fangs protrude from bony muzzles; they bear solid blues eyes, and matching insect-like wings. Sharp, curved horns adorn their maneless heads.
One lone changeling flies up to her, frantically hissing and pointing into the underbrush.
“What have you found, my changeling?”
Following his gestures she spies a cave hidden in the undergrowth. Its entrance lies barely visible beneath the vines and trees that grow around it. As she approaches she can see a faint blue glow emanating from within. A smile breaks across her face, revealing her fangs as her hooves clank onto the rock of the cave’s threshold.
A portal! I haven’t seen one of these since I came here to Equestria centuries ago. Maybe it can lead me somewhere I can feed!
She steps into the bright light of the portal, letting it envelope her. Her eyes squeeze shut as she is temporarily blinded by the light. She steps out, blinking, on the other side. As her vision clears, she can see she stepped out of a cave on the edge of a city. Looking around she spots a billboard with a familiar creature on it, a human.
A grin escapes her lips. “I haven’t been here in ages. It seems to have changed a little.”
She makes her way through the streets, glancing at the brick and concrete all around her. She’s taken aback by how much this world has developed, not a sight of the primitive wood and stone she remembered from those centuries ago. A siren’s cry wails in the distance, its source moving around the empty streets.
After walking a short distance, she makes it to a more lively part of town. The streets are still empty, but there’s light glowing from the large glass windows. People sit around at tables and bars laughing, talking, or drowning their sorrows behind the glass. She comes to a building bearing a glowing sign saying “Joe’s Bar”. It’s one of the simpler looking buildings around, just brick, with wooden doors. Catching sight of the door opening, she quickly ducks into the shadows.
“Bye, Joe,” a man calls as he walks out.
She watches him step out the door. Despite the darkness of night, she can make out his appearance from the light spilling out the door, a fairly tall looking man clothed in black pants, a white shirt, and a long black coat. He wears his hair slicked back in a ponytail.
A few voices call out from the building to answer his farewell.
“See ya, Mac,” shouts a young-sounding voice.
“Catch ya later, Mac,” calls another man’s voice, this one older, yet still lively and full of energy.
“Watch your back out there, McLeod.” This voice is far different from both, it sounds like the voice of a young man, but its tone is old and jaded.
She watches him walk down the steps and towards a nearby alley. With careful movement, she closes the distance as he disappears into the shadows. As she approaches he stops and looks alert, seeming to have heard something.
She quickly ducks behind cover as he turns around. He continues to intently survey his surroundings, peering into shadows for any sign of life.
“Who’s there?”
Just as she gets ready to panic, a figure steps out of the shadows and stares down McLeod with an icy glare and a hint of bloodlust in his eyes. He brandishes a long sword from his trench coat and holds it at his side.
McLeod looks down at the gleaming blade and sizes up his opponent before speaking an answer to this apparent challenge, “I’m guessing you’re not up for a friendly chat?”
The man grins and points his sword at McLeod. “I’m just interested in your head. After all, there can be only one”
McLeod gestures at a nearby backdoor to an abandoned warehouse as he suddenly grows more serious. “Mind if we take this inside?”
The man walks to the door still not taking his eyes off McLeod and steps inside. McLeod follows behind, keeping just as close an eye on his challenger.
Chrysalis is intrigued by the display, and as they disappear inside, she follows to the doorway, creeping in behind them.
The two figures stand facing each other under the warehouse’s dim fluorescent lighting. Chrysalis watches them from the darkness, fascinated by this impending duel.
McLeod pulls out his own katana and speaks, “Since we haven’t been introduced, I’m Duncan McLeod, of the clan McLeod. You are?”
The other figure grins with a slight chuckle and gives a shrug as he spreads his arms. “If you must know my name before I kill you, it’s Riker.”
With that, Riker springs forward with a slice of his blade. The clank of metal on metal fills the air as it meets Duncan’s own sword.
“So, Riker. What makes you think it’s me losing my head tonight?”
“How about this!”
Duncan lets out a groan as Riker’s knee finds its mark in his gut, causing him to drop his katana and stumble back. He sees Riker swinging his sword, but thinks quickly and rolls under the slash, grabbing his own sword in the process.
Riker shoots a cocky grin at McLeod. “So, McLeod, you’re pretty good. Too bad I’m better.” Riker lunges forward again, aiming for Macleod’s neck.
“I wouldn’t say that yet!”
Once again with a clash of sparks, steel meets steel. But this time, Duncan quickly sidesteps out of the lock of blades and slashes before Riker can react. Riker drops to his knees and grabs the fresh wound on his stomach as his blade clatters to the floor.
Duncan stands over his defeated opponent, and with one fluid motion of a blade, it’s over. Riker’s lifeless and headless body drops limply to the floor.
Even from her hiding place, Chrysalis can feel a certain energy in the air as Duncan closes his eyes and spreads his arms, seemingly bracing for something. A white mist, a cloud of energy rises from Riker’s body and drifts to Duncan. Electricity begins to dance around Duncan’s form as he continues to stay focused, almost entranced. Without warning, an explosion of energy erupts forth, wrapping around Duncan. The room’s lights explode into showers of sparks with the surge. Duncan convulses slightly as he seems to absorb the full brunt of the storm.
Chrysalis looks on intently at the raging storm of energy with a hunger in her eyes for all this power in one being, a human no less. Just being in its presence makes her feel stronger. A smirk crosses her face as she looks on.
Duncan drops down, bracing himself on his sword with one hand. A final lingering spark of electricity dances around his form, and then as fast it begins, it’s over. He steadies himself and slowly climbs to his feet. He stashes his sword back in his coat and makes his way to this door, taking one last look at the aftermath as he leaves.
Chrysalis slyly steps out behind him, intending to find out more about this possible new source of energy, this target.
Duncan makes his way on foot through the sleeping city. He walks silently through the city with nothing accompanying him save his own thoughts and the sounds of his own footsteps. All these years of combat and fighting for his life, and every fight still takes its toll as much as the first time he raised a blade. A part of him is grateful for it, that after all the wars and battles he’s been through, he hasn’t lost his humanity to bloodlust like so many of his kind.
Arriving at the gym he calls home, he makes his way to the lift leading to his loft apartment. He can’t help but feel eyes on him as he steps inside. As the lift rises, he relaxes and takes off his coat, letting out a sigh of relief, glad to be away from the feeling of watching eyes. The lift grinds to a halt, and he steps out, laying his sword on a nearby table and tossing his coat on the couch in the middle of the room.
A sound catches his attention. He can almost swear it’s the squeaking of the fire escape. The feeling of eyes gazing at him seems to return and he slowly steps towards the window. Peering into the darkness, he almost thinks he sees a pair of large green eyes duck out of sight. He stands in silence, peering out the window, hoping he hasn’t gone crazy, again. Finally, he steps forward and slowly opens the window, sticking his head out to find an empty fire escape. He closes the window tight and wonders if he’s finally losing it, but is interrupted by the sound of the lift creaking to life and an all too familiar feeling.
The metal grate of the lift slides up, and a younger man in a leather coat with short, curly, dirty blonde hair steps out. Recognizing the figure, Duncan goes back to peering out the window and greets him with a distracted mumble, “Hi, Richie.”
“Mac, are you okay? We saw the quickening next door.”
“I’m fine.” Duncan continues to gaze out the window, looking for that pair of eyes.
Richie answers with a concerned look. “You feeling okay, Mac?”
“I’m fine, I just need some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Yeah, sure.”
Richie curiously looks out the window into the night, jumping back as he swears he catches a glimpse of a set of large green eyes. Turning to the footsteps behind him he faces Duncan who’s holding out a mug. He takes the mug with one hand, still wearing a look of surprise.
“Richie?”
Richie points over his shoulder towards the window, a look of surprise still plastered on his face. Duncan glances towards the window with a quizzical stare.
“Big green eyes?” Duncan says.
“Yeah, Mac, how did you…” Richie says.
“At least I know I’m not crazy.”
“Mac, what’s going on here?”
“No idea, but I think it’s been following me all night.”
Duncan causally sips his coffee and heads toward the living room. He sits down in a chair and places his coffee on an end table. Richie follows close behind, sitting down on the couch. “So, you’re saying whatever that thing is has been following you all night, and you don’t know what it is?”
“Pretty much.”
Richie frantically fumbles for ideas as Duncan thinks calmly in silence, then finally spits out a observation, “Do you think it’s another demon?”
“Doubt it. I’m not going insane this time.”
A moment of silence passes, until Duncan eventually stands up. He grabs his coat and sword, then makes his way to the lift. Richie speaks up, “Where are you going, Mac?”
“Outside.”
“You’re going to go looking for that thing?”
Duncan turns around to face Richie with a look of sarcasm spreading across his face. “No, I’m going for a midnight walk and figured I’ll ask what’s going on if I happen to run into it.”
“Wait, Mac, I’m going too.”
“No, Richie. I want you to go see if Methos knows anything about this.”
“Be careful, Mac.”
Duncan stands outside in the back alley looking up at the fire escape, searching for any clue of the creature’s identity. Seeing no signs of it, he walks down the alley in the only direction it could have gone. For a few minutes all he can hear is his own footsteps on the concrete, but then the near-silence is cut by the sound of something rattling in a nearby pile of garbage cans.
He slowly makes his way to the cans, watching as some fall over from the movement. Not knowing what to expect, he steps up to the cans and inspects them for some sign of what’s hiding behind them. He listens intently as a frightened female voice calls out from behind the cans, almost sobbing with fear:
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Duncan slowly moves some of the cans out of the way and finds the source of the voice. He rubs his eyes and takes a double take at the figure. He looks back into a large pair of blue eyes, stunned into silence. He can’t help but think it looks like something from a cartoon, some kind of equine with a red mane and a dark blue coat. Judging by her tone and nervousness she must be just a child. She lets out a whimper and continues to plead, “Please, don’t hurt me!”
Duncan crouches down and reaches a hand out to her. Even if she isn’t human, he can’t ignore someone in trouble, especially a child. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
She looks up at him cautiously, with tears still in her eyes. “You’re not a pony.”
“I know. I’m a human.”
“I’ve never seen a human before.”
“I’ve never met a talking pony before, so we’ve both seen something new today.”
She starts to smile a little, but still retains her nervous disposition. “Promise you won’t hurt me?”
“I promise.”
She reaches a hoof out and Duncan takes it, helping the small filly out of the pile of garbage. Still crouching down, he takes another glance around the alley, seeing nothing to indicate where she came from. He looks down at the filly, who is now much calmer and staring up at him with curious eyes.
“My name is Duncan. What’s yours?”
Her voice is shaky and nervous as she answers, “My name is Rosey.”
“Well, Rosey, what do you say we go somewhere a little safer, where we can talk?”
“O-okay.”
Duncan surveys the alley one last time before leading inside to the gym. They make their way to the lift, and Rosey nervously follows him inside. She flinches a little as the lift begins to move, startled by the sudden movement. As they step out, Duncan motions to the couch.
“Go ahead and have a seat. Can I get you some water?” Duncan asks as he stands up from his chair.
“Yes please,” says Rosey.
“I’ll be right back.”
Rosey climbs up on the couch as Duncan rummages around the kitchen. He soon returns, handing her a glass. She takes it between her hooves and sips some of the water, watching Duncan sit down in a nearby chair. He thinks for a moment before speaking, “I’m guessing you’re lost?”
“Yes.”
“Where do you live?”
Rosey taps her hoof on her head and thinks for a moment. “My mom and I live in a small village not far from Canterlot.”
“I haven’t heard of it, it must be really far away,” Duncan says with a smile.
“I think it is. We don’t have any humans like you around.”
“How did you get so far from home?”
Rosey looks and down and thinks some more before recounting the story. “It was a nice day out and my Mom told me I could play outside, so I decided to go explore the woods. I was going to a clearing I like to play in, but I heard somepony talking so I hid behind a tree and watched.”
“Was it some-” Duncan thinks for a moment and corrects himself. “Somepony you knew?”
“No, it was a really scary looking monster. She had bug wings and big fangs and a crooked horn and her legs were full of holes.”
“You must have been frightened of it. It sounds scary.” Duncan does his best to read her and keep her calm and talking.
“I was, but I was curious too. I watched and she went into a cave, I waited a while then followed her in. I had to close my eyes inside because it got so bright. When I opened them I was in a strange place with big stone streets and big buildings. I thought it was neat so I explored for a while until I saw her again, I followed her here. I thought she saw me out there so I got scared and hid behind those cans, and then you found me.
Duncan thinks for a moment about the situation. His best bet now would be to try and get her home, wherever that is. He finally speaks, “Rosey, you think you could take me back there?”
“No, I’m sorry, but I got lost,” Rosey says, looking downward, dejected.
“I guess we need to get you home some other way then.”
Rosey excitedly stands up, cheerfully replying, “You’ll help me get home?”
“Sure, but it’s getting late. Why don’t you try to get some sleep, and I’ll make some phone calls. I know someone who might be able to help.”
“Okay, I am really tired,” Rosey says with a huge yawn.
Duncan walks over to a nearby set of shelves and grabs a blanket. By the time he turns back to Rosey she’s already curled up and fallen asleep. He gently covers her with the blanket, careful not to wake her.
He makes his way the kitchen phone and punches in a number, a voice with a hint of gravel answers on the other end. “Hello?”
“Joe, its Duncan.”
“Hey Mac, you okay? We all saw the mess next door,” Joe says in a worried tone from the other end.
“I’m fine, Joe, but I have a small problem over here. I’m looking for Methos,” Duncan answers.
“Just missed him. He and Richie left for your place.”
Duncan leans against the counter and looks at the sleeping form on the couch. “I guess I’ll just wait for them then. I hope they’re both sober.”
“What’s going on over there, Mac?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I barely believe myself.”
The lift begins to creak and Duncan feels a slight chill run up his neck. He turns toward the lift, watching its arrival.
“That must be them now. I hope this isn’t too unusual for them. Talk to you later, Joe.”
“Make sure I hear about what’s going on over there”
“I’ll try.”
Duncan hangs up the phone as Richie steps out of the lift followed by another man. He stands about Duncan’s height, he has a fairly slender build and short dark hair. He holds his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, which hangs open revealing a gray turtleneck underneath. He wears an almost unreadable expression as he enters the room.
“What have you gotten yourself into this time, McLeod?”
“Methos, why don’t you just go look at what’s sleeping on my couch.”
Methos gives Duncan a look of confusion before walking cautiously towards the couch. He crouches down and carefully peeks under the blanket at the blue filly underneath. Standing back up he makes his way back to Duncan to face him with an expression of frustrated confusion.
“I don’t understand why there appears to be what I think is an adolescent equine, that was possibly born near a radioactive test site, and has bad dye job sleeping on your couch, nor do I know why it’s important enough for Richie to drag me here, but I would love for one of you to explain it.”
He turns back to Richie who is wearing his own look of confusion. He can do nothing but answer with his own bewilderment.
“The pony is new. I had nothing to do with that one.”
Methos turns his gaze to Duncan, who, with a calm smile, offers an answer to his unspoken question.
“She can talk.”
“McLeod, I knew you had a few earlier, but I didn’t peg you as such a lightweight.”
“You want proof, go talk to her. Her name is Rosey.”
“Fine, I’ll make a fool out of you in front of your student.”
Methos walks over to the couch and kneels down next to the sleeping filly. He pulls the cover off her and stirs her from her sleep.
“So, Rosey, anything to say?”
Rosey nervously backs away and crawls back under the blanket, shaking a little from the sudden awakening.
“See, not a wo—“
Rosie bolts up with a fright and looks around, then finally up to Methos. “W-who are you, w-what’s going on?”
Methos is cut off by Rosie’s nervous voice. He looks over at Duncan who shrugs. Richie continues to bear a confused expression, still trying work out the situation in his head as he looks back and forth between them all. Methos falls into a nearby chair with a look of confusion and defeat, and Rosie peeks out and watches him curiously as he speaks, “McLeod, I’ve lived and walked this world for over 5,000 years, and yet the situations you get into somehow still defy my suspension of disbelief. We’ve been through a lot, but I can honestly say this is the first time I’ve seen a talking pony. Well done, McLeod, you’ve stumped the wise old sage.”
“You’re welcome, Methos,” Duncan says with a look of satisfaction.
Duncan steps into the living area as Rosey turns to look at him.
“Duncan, what’s g-going on?” Asks Rosey.
“Its okay, my friend here is just having an off day,” Duncan replies gently.
“O-okay.”
Duncan puts an arm on the back of Methos’ chair and smiles with satisfaction as he speaks,“Well Methos, is this interesting enough to be worth your time?”
“Duncan, just tell me what happened tonight from the beginning,” Methos says, defeated.
“Why don’t we head down to my office to talk?”
Methos stands up and heads towards the lift as Duncan kneels down by the couch, talking to her in a low voice, “Rosey, wait here. you’ll be safe with Richie.” Duncan looks up at Richie, who is still standing stunned across the room. “Won’t she, Rich?”
“Sure, Mac,” Richie says.
Duncan follows Methos down and Richie walks into the living area. Rosey follows him with her eyes the whole way, studying him curiously.
“Hi there, I’m Richie.”
“Are you a friend of Duncan’s?” Rosey’s tone is one of curiosity as she speaks.
“Yeah, we’ve known each a long time,” Richie says.
“Are you going to help me get home too?”
“Are you lost?” Richie asks
“Yeah, I followed a monster here through a cave and I don’t know my way back to it. Duncan said he’d help me get home.”
“Then I’ll help however I can too,” Richie says as he lowers himself into a nearby chair.
“Thanks,”Rosey lets out a long yawn and drifts back to sleep as Richie sits alone with his thoughts.
Richie wonders to himself about the night’s events, questioning how this would all end. “This is going to be a long night.”
Duncan sits down behind his desk and Methos takes a seat in the cheap waiting room chair across from him. A heavy feeling hangs in the air as their almost playful attitude gives way to a more serious tone. They both think in silence for several moments, but Methos speaks first; his voice calm and serious.
“Richie said someone followed you home from Joe’s.”
Duncan leans back in his chair, a expression of careful thought on his face. “More like something,” Duncan says.
“You don’t think it was human?” Methos asks.
“Not if that set of eyes Richie and I saw in the window belong to it.”
“What did they look like?”
“Big, green, and almost reptilian.”
Methos closes his eyes, folds his hands under his chin and goes into deep thought as he answers. He knows he’s seen eyes like that before, he just can’t remember where. He resolves to look for them in one of the old mythology books he keeps around.
“So where does Rosey fit into this?” Methos asks.
“I think they came from the same place, she seems to have followed it here,” Duncan says
“Can she find her way back?” Methos leans back in his seat, thinking.
“No, she said something about a cave that led here, but she got lost in the city on the way here,” Duncan answers.
“And you promised you help her get home?” Methos asks the question, even though he already knows the answer
A small smile once again spreads across Duncan’s face. “How did you guess?”
“McLeod, I’ve lived over 5,000 years, and I’ve never seen someone follow a code of honor quite as strongly as you. You’d never refuse help to anyone in trouble, let alone a lost child,” Methos answers, reading Duncan like a book.
“Looks like you haven’t gotten rusty at reading people over those thousands of years, Methos,” Duncan says back.
“Of course not. It’s what’s kept me alive all this time.”
“That, and fighting dirty.” Duncan gives a knowing grin at Methos.
“We do what we have to do to survive.” Methos replies in a tone almost as if he’s reciting poetry.
Duncan lets out a chuckle as he stands up and walks around the desk. “Since I don’t have to explain myself any further, think you can help?”
“Of course, but only because I’m so intrigued with this mess you’ve gotten yourself into,” Methos says.
“I think I’m rubbing off on you.”
“I hope not. That might get me killed.”
A sharp knock on the door rings out through the building. Both Duncan and Methos turn to the sound, concentrating on the door. Methos finally looks up at Duncan and speaks, “It’s not another immortal.”
“It’s probably just Joe. I’ll get it.”
Methos watches Duncan disappear into the entryway, debating on following him but deciding not to. After all, what trouble could come from answering the door? He begins to wish he hadn’t asked himself that question.
Duncan steps outside and looks around at the seemingly empty street. He looks up and down the street until something catches his gaze: that same pair of green eyes. His footsteps click hollowly on the concrete as he slowly walks towards them, but, just as he about to close the distance, they duck out of sight down an alley. Picking up the pace, he slips down the alley after them, catching sight of a long blue tail slipping around another corner. It continues to lead him through a twisting and turning maze of side streets and back alleys, like a rat through a maze, until it eventually leads him to the edge of town.
As Duncan stops to catch his breath, he looks up to see the creature Rosey described in front of him illuminated by the light of a cave. She looks at him with a satisfied glare as he stares at her, stunned. Several moments pass and he finally finds the will to speak. “Who are you?”
She only smiles a devious grin and turns to step into the cave. Duncan slowly follows her inside. He loses sight of her in the blinding light, but continues to push forward until he hears grass crunch under his feet again. Before he can open his eyes, he grows dizzy, collapses to the ground in a heap and passes out.
