Arc 2 – Lies Chapter 2 – Promise

=================================

Whilst Discord annoyed their captors, leisurely following them by the trodden paths in the snow, prompting guns to poke his backside, Ash kept observing both the unwelcome company and unwelcoming surroundings, looking for opportunities and shooting the gryphon impatient glances—which he ignored.

The burly mares and stallions let their well-maintained weaponry speak for itself and other than that showed no more aggression than what could be expected from those who had outlasted the end of the world. Glaring sullenly ahead, but constantly swivelling their ears, the grim equines marched silently and unrelentingly; much to Ash’s displeasure—tired and hungry, she only could thank her long legs for being able to keep up with their pace.

The beaten road wound to the heart of the city, where the blizzard raged less violently and which Ash always avoided, as the brutality of the battle for survival overcompensated that clemency. Not that the scenery looked any different because of it; though eventually, the ruins became less dilapidated—some had been restored into shelters from the elements, albeit still of exceedingly miserable quality.

Discord and Ash found themselves at the entrance to one such building, no different from the depot they’d failed to storm.

Opposite to the desolate and snow-blighted streets, the warehouse bustled with activity—ponies of all kinds shuttled around, laden with boxes and bundles. Amidst all the barely organised mess a bracken goat yelled orders from behind a rickety table stacked with papers.

“Leszek,” the stallion in the lead of the group called.

“What?” the caprine whipped his head around, curved horns missing a tower of papers by a hair. “What’s it this time?”

“Found these two on the outskirts.”

Cold gun barrels harshly nudged the duo to stumble to the front of the slightly swaying table.

The goat gave Ash and Discord a long thoughtful look, though not evaluating in the same way flesh-eaters regarded anyone they encountered; the annoyed dark eyes with horizontal pupils gradually brimmed with curiosity.

“The boss will know what to do with them. For now—the cell.”

Not much of a prison—a cage, its rusty bars separating an alcove from the shadow-flooded cellar hall. It lacked even basic necessities and had holes in the thin walls whistling mournfully. At least it offered solitude from the warehouse workers as the only comfort, but there was a catch—the tiny room barely had any space for a mature gryphon and unusually large pony.

Tired of futilely trying to wrap herself in her plumage and glaring at Discord as he sharpened his talons with the beak, Ash grumbled, her teeth chattering:

“So, what was your brilliant escape plan, again?”

The gryphon didn’t even bother to look in her direction.

“Have patience.”

His beak snapped and a fragment of his claw shot straight into Ash’s nose; the sight of his curved talons prevented her from pouncing at the audacious half-eagle… for now.

“You never had one, did you?” she hissed instead, fighting back a sneeze.

Discord lazily regarded her with half-lidded eyes.

“It’s not like you have anything.”

The look in Ash’s eyes might have turned the gryphon into her namesake, were such a thing possible.

“Wow, I’ve seen many horrible things at the Deep, but never an asshole this big.”

She abruptly stood up and clutched the cage bars in her hooves, tensing her meagre muscles in a vain attempt to bend the rebar; to her credit, the metal gave up a bit but refused to break. Her golden aura then enveloped the lock, yet her telekinesis lacked the precision to do anything but rattle the unyielding mechanism; Ash’s eyes once again found the long eagle talons.

“How about helping me,” she barked at Discord, who observed the unsuccessful jailbreak attempt with exceedingly avid interest.

“Look, Sunny, so far they have treated us well enough. Don’t you want to see where this leads?”

“Nobody’s treated me well. Ever,” Ash retorted. Then reluctantly added, “Except you.”

Discord shot her a look, shrugged and said, “I’m a gryphon veteran. You have both wings and a horn.”

The mare pressed her lips together, thankful to him for not mentioning she didn’t really know how to use both.

“If those guys have survived this long, they aren’t going to throw away potential assets.” Laughter twinkled in the gryphon’s gaze. “And if things go wrong, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Ash’s eyes turned moon-sized as a key appeared in betwixt the talons, seemingly out of nowhere.

“We should go now, then.”

Before the last word left her chapped lips, the golden glow wrapped around the key, but ended up grasping thin air.

“Why risk it?” she snarled.

The cell key vanished just as mysteriously, much to Ash’s vexation, and Discord reclined, his lion paws unceremoniously invading the mare’s half of the alcove, forcing her to lean away, pressing herself to the rime-laced wall.

“That’s boring.”

“Why does everything have to be about fun for you?” she spat, shoving the offending limbs away.

The gryphon roared with laughter, writhing in titters so hard, moisture glistened in the corners of his bulging yellow eyes. Then he stopped abruptly.

Ash shrieked as a scaly arm wrapped her shoulders in an uncomfortably firm hug whilst another flicked her horn—she could swear it felt like the bone had turned into jelly for a heartbeat.

“Patience and trust! Have some faith in Ol’ Daddy Discord—I promised to get Sunbutt out of Canterlot and it’s going to happen.”

With great effort she wriggled herself from his grasp, bitterly muttering, “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve regretted teaming up with you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that—I wouldn’t have let you go anyway.”

To emphasise his words, Discord made a motion to catch Ash in another awkward embrace and she jerked away, except at the last moment the gryphon seamlessly changed the trajectory of his movements to take a great interest in his talons.

Glaring at him, warily watching for the next move, she said through gritted teeth, “Just don’t tell me it’s because you were bored—I’ll hit you.”

“Keep putting in this little effort and I’ll lose interest in helping you.”

All the potential danger ignored and Discord’s fighting skill forgotten, Ash leapt at the gryphon as much as the confines of the cell allowed to call it such. To her dark glee, the attack caught the elder by surprise, but that triumph vanished when she landed at an empty place with a thud.

She might have considered abandoning the cause, but a snort from behind her prompted Ash to whirl around and pounce again only to find herself not prostrate on the floor, but somehow stuck, thanks to her dumb wing catching in the cell bars.

The titters of amusement grew into hearty chuckles. And at the same time, a clop of hooves heralded the advent of visitors—the wardens, most likely.

Leszek and a trio of gun-toting ponies unamusedly observed a blushing mare frantically fighting the metal bars and a gryphon wailing, clutching his sides.

“You two,” the goat deadpanned.

Ash finally managed to dislodge her treacherous wing; she smacked Discord, though that only served to pour oil onto the fire of his merriment.

The pair of horns slid across the bars, the resulting staccato deafening any sound.

“You’re going to witness the Prophet and receive his judgement,” Leszek announced in a dry tone. “Don’t do anything stupid—”

Discord snickered and poked Ash’s ribs, making the mare jump, “Hear that, Sunny?”

“Shut up!”

The caprine nodded to one of his companions and the sound of a gun racking silenced the prisoners again, with a more substantial and lasting effect.

“...It’ll cost you your lives.”

Though the threat of death failed to bring Discord’s mood lower than his regular ceaseless mild amusement, Ash fell quiet and returned to intently looking around, remembering the outline and looking for the ways to escape—in case the gryphon had been pulling her tail all that time; she ran much better than she flew.

Ash mentally thanked Leszek for choosing the path that led through warehouses rather than across the snowbanks, yet after passing another massive depot repurposed into a factory or some sort of laboratory full of arcane machines and forges, something began to bother her.

“What’s with the goats everywhere?” she murmured under her breath.

However, either the cold wind had played a practical joke on her or Leszek had exceptionally sensitive ears—he mimicked her voice, “What’s with the ponies everywhere?”

“It’s our city!”

The goat screwed his muzzle.

“Says some freak.”

“I still look better than you, fuckface.”

Ash barely comprehended the momentary sensation of hard horns on her neck as it was replaced by a cloven hoof pressing her into the cold floor. The caprine packed more strength than his size merited—half of Ash’s. The pain of being slammed down finally caught up, the same moment Leszek’s beard tickled her cheek.

“You destroyed our homeland when you lured the Windigo to your city.” A drop of moisture fell on Ash’s coat as Leszek shook with the rage and pain of loss. “The Prophet invited us! If you have any problem with that, tell him that and I’ll watch his magic melt your bones.”

It seemed like Leszek would spit on her face, but he thought better and just stomped away. Discord offered her his eagle paw, but Ash brushed the limb off and yelled after the goat:

“My home was destroyed too! And I never asked for that.”

Leszek snapped his head and gave her a long dark look.

“Fair enough—you’re not quite a pony, after all.” Ash frowned and opened her mouth, but the caprine continued, “Answer me this, then: Where have you been for the last decade? What have you been doing while we’ve been working on fixing this mess, against all odds?”

The mare clenched her jaws, fervently thinking of a justification, but everything that came to her mind sounded lame in the face of Leszek’s accusations.

“You might pretend to care about us now, but in the end, you’re the same self-centred roach that always fed on garbage in the shadow of ponies when they brought doom upon everyone.”

She would rather have spit trickling down her muzzle.

The confrontation left Ash subdued to the point that she lost any interest in the city, trotting with her head low, contemplating her whole existence; at least Discord had dropped his antics as he walked by her side, occasionally brushing her shoulder with his wing.

So, it came as a surprise when she found herself in a room bigger than any she had ever seen—more spacious than she imagined a building could even be; her wide eyes struggled to find the furthest from the entrance wall.

The vast number of machines took partial blame for that—complex tools for manufacture whirred; ponies, goats and even equinods scurried betwixt workbenches; furnaces belched acrid smoke from under soot-stained crucibles. No space was left unused—a network of rails and catwalks sprawled above the working floor, circling the kilns and towering processing units; the narrow lines quivered from the inexorable marching of hooves.

Amidst all the chaos of incessant labour, one figure stood still, an unassuming equinoid observing the work from the middle of the top floor of the catwalks. The moment Discord and Ash entered the factory, his calm gaze instantly locked on them and the metal equine left his post.

However, as he got closer, Ash doubted his artificial nature—something shifted betwixt the metal plates that weren’t hidden under the tattered grey clock; not exactly organic matter, but neither wires nor gears. That, and the confident stride offered a likely guess—this had to be the Prophet himself.

Reaching the railing hanging right over them, he hooked his hooves over it.

The Prophet’s voice effortlessly cut over the din of machines and clatter of tools, instantly compelling every worker to stop and listen.

“And when I had almost given up on seeing you in flesh, you came to me,” he declared in a kind baritone, almost melodically; then chuckled. “Got bored of protecting the city?”

To Leszek’s indignation, Discord stepped forward, seemingly unaware of every pair of eyes in the factory glued to him, including the inscrutable gaze of the Prophet; the gryphon met the latter unwaveringly. He also ignored the guns aiming at the back of his head.

“I’d say it‘s an honour to finally meet the Great and Terrible Wizard, were you not a petty thief. You know, some equinoids worked hard to deserve such power.”

A frown claimed the Prophet’s features and the magic shimmering around the triggers intensified. Yet the not-quite-equinoid waved the guards off; they lowered their weapons and took a step back, leaving Discord along with Ash in the middle of empty space.

The Prophet effortlessly leapt over the railing and nimbly landed in front of them, his hooves making no sound.

This close Ash finally made out what hid under the chromed plating—a sort of tar that glistened with embers slowly floating through semi-translucent dark mass. His eyes, yellow pupils surrounded by the black of the sclera, stopped at her; for a brief moment recognition sparked in them, but it ceded to boredom.

A disappointed expression returned to his face when he addressed Discord, “She hogs it to herself instead of helping everyone—you are no different. But not for long.” The Prophet extended his hoof to the gryphon in a gesture more imperious than amiable. “Give it up willingly and I’ll spare you.”

Discord coldly regarded him.

“Like you spared them?”

A scowl contorted the Prophet’s muzzle, his eyes glinting dangerously with brewing wrath and his smooth voice gained a sharp edge.

“You can end the blizzard and what do you do? You watch us suffer for your amusement!”

“Have you ever wondered why I wasn’t there, in one of the cages? You won’t be able to control my power.”

The intuition that had helped Ash survive ten years in the frozen ruins insisted on her backing away from the bickering adults who weren’t who they tried to appear. She readily obliged—and just in time.

“I have enough magic to tear you asunder!” The Prophet bellowed.

Tendrils of arcane fire with black core lashed out and grasped Discord, ripping his body in half like he was made of paper-mache. But instead of viscera and blood, sweets and chocolate bars battered Ash’s bewildered face.

Discord’s voice spoke into her ear, a bit higher even.

“And that’s why I no longer find ponies entertaining.”

She whipped around to stare at the creature resembling many of her kin disfigured by genetic hard knocks. It continued to grumble, “Imagine meeting a guy who calls himself a prophet and getting no ridiculous monologue.”

Noticing Ash’s attention in the form of her mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of the water, he beamed mischievously.

“Okay, Sunny, ready for some PTSD?”

In astounded silence, the sound of fingers snapping thundered like a gunshot.

Dozens of the abominations that shambled in the abyss under Canterlot materialised from thin air, landing on the floor with meaty thuds of writhing pale flesh; the catwalks rattled as the mounds of animated meat crushed them with their sheer mass.

And those monstrosities knew no such thing as confusion—they instantly threw themselves at workers.

Tentacles spread, wrapping around limbs and pulling shrieking victims closer to dozens of snapping mouths and beaks. Bony appendages shot out, knocking hooves from under panicking equines and caprines. Gelatinous mountains of thick slime sucked in those who failed to muster enough deftness.

However, not a single drop of blood fell to the floor, no bones cracked under the onslaught and those who found themselves in the embrace of slime could only complain about severe discomfort and the overwhelming taste of liquorice. Until an explosion blew away chunks of concrete and machinery amidst the stampede. A wave of raw arcane power disassembled the ‘horrors’ into cream cheese. It gored unfortunate ponies and goats, rendered an equinoid to liquid.

Amidst the pure chaos, a tall figure pivoted—an equine skeleton cobbled together from the remains of a statue into a grotesque effigy brought to a parody of life by magic. The bare bone and empty eye sockets somehow managed to express perplexity, which the amalgam tried to amend with senseless violence.

Whilst some began to realise Discord’s attack caused more inconvenience than real harm, the entity vaporising anybody who ended up too close to it posed a deadly threat.

Gun reports cracked, adding to the pandemonium, but the lead didn’t even draw the thing’s attention. A magic blast came next and the bleached bone soaked up the spells as nonchalantly as the arcanium splinters that compromised the rest of the gout body.

The lash of the amber smouldering whip cracked across the ivory spines and the scarecrow-like equine reeled; it instantly answered the offence with an arcane gale that tore into the Prophet and his entourage—only the enigmatic stallion remained in one piece.

Giving the effigy a baleful glare he shouted:

“Call in the Ghosts!”

Discord squinted at the strange thing, then looked at his claws and detached them from his hand to scrutinise.

“That was unexpected,” he muttered, then, casting a worried glance at the bone fused into the metal, added, “And morbid.”

By his side, Ash finally managed to gather her wits together. Her shaking hoof shot out, pointing at Discord.

“You’re a mutant, like me!”

He put his fingers back and snapped them; the nearest abomination turned into marshmallow.

“Now, now, let’s not be rude, Sunny.” Discord bent, putting his arms to his knees, and smirked into the mare’s face. “I’m of the noblest race of draconequi, while you are, in fact, a plain boring pony.” He straightened out, thoughtfully scratching his chin, black pepper raining on Ash muzzle from his beard. “Well, maybe a bit special, one of the two of the kind—that’s why I have to get you out of here.”

She sneezed confetti before grasping his lion paw.

“I’m not going anywhere without you!”

Discord blinked a few times.

“That’s… new.”

Behind him swarms of arcanium particles dove at the animated skeleton and it blindly lashed out, one of the lances going wild and cutting off Discord’s head. He, cold-headed, put it back and turned to Ash, fixing her with a hard expression that didn’t fit him.

“But it doesn’t change the fact you need to leave now or neither of us will. Go to the ruins of the Wall and watch for the sunset—she’ll get you out from Canterlot.” Discord raised his eagle paw pinching his middle finger and thumb together. “Sayona—”

A golden aura firmly held his hand still.

“I’m coming back for you!”

A horrendous crash joined another warping sound, not to mention the battle against the snack food replicas of the nightmares from the Deep Tunnels.

“Ash, you’re not strong enough,” Discord quietly rasped, gazing at the desperate mare sadly.

She hesitated, staring at the pandemonium that likely promised no mercy to either of them, no matter its outcome. She pressed her lips tight, giving the draconequus a stubborn glare.

“Then I’ll become strong and return for you.” She looked at ponies, goats and whatnot helping each other to survive. “For them.”

Discord grinned.

“I’ll find you myself when you are ready.”

Then his fingers snapped.

A cruel wind blasted ice and flakes of soot in Ash’s face.

She dug herself out of the snowbank, mumbling curses addressed to Discord. The dirty mane whipped around as she tried to understand where the mercy of the draconequus brought her.

Her estimations came to a screeching halt and her hooves froze to the icy soil, though its chilling quality had nothing to do with it.

A tall figure cast a shadow on Ash, its skull peering at her with an eyeless gaze.

Author's Note

I have a Discord server—anyone is welcome to join.

If you notice any mistakes sneaked in through the editing, let me know.

Stay awesome.