I have Zero Attack Power, Yet I Must Fight

Chapters

Wolves Of Wood
Yearning For More
Catching Elusive Prey
In The Pit
My Guilty Mind
My Many Experiments
Crown Of Vermin
An Old Tiger
A Mighty Foe
A Desperate Scramble
Help Offered Freely
A Woodland Hike
Power Over Death
Rising From Below
An Unwilling Pawn
The Sacrifice Play
Pointed Questions Asked
Shots Are Fired
Lying In Wait
Plumbing The Depths
Lending A Paw
A Sudden Awakening
Crossing Swords
Besting The Best
A Feisty Perennial
Wood On Wood
Lock Without Key

Wolves Of Wood

A couple days passed after my arrival, and I’ll save you the details because it was pretty damn boring.

First of all I found out that I did sleep, well sort of. After puppeting my servant around for long enough I began to grow woozy, and my strength started to fail. Then I entered a sort of meditative trance where I stopped paying attention to my surroundings. Though not true sleep, it helped pass the time before I could recuperate and I got the feeling that this wouldn't be necessary if I wasn't so hungry.

For the most part I explored my surroundings, though my tiny horse servant couldn't go far before the connection started to become weak. I started with the rock wall which stretched on as far as I could see, even after climbing to my very top branch. The other trees were also just as thickly packed as I had assumed, though thankfully my tiny body easily maneuvered through them.

There were a few dips, a couple of standing pools, and some dead trees littering the area I could reach but that was about it. At one point I could hear a stream, but I couldn't even get close before feeling began to dull, and my vision grew fuzzy. After that I pulled the horse thing back, exploring what little I could manage without losing the only defence I had.

I also noticed a few other things, such as the fact that there were very few animals around. Sure I could hear them, and sometimes I could even sense them, but they continued to avoid me for some reason. Even the birds which flew overhead gained altitude when crossing over my putrid grove.

I also found out that I could not fly, no matter how hard I flapped these tiny, pathetic wings of mine. Even getting a bit of a jump from one of my lower branches did nothing to assist me in this matter. I tried for hours, attempting to figure out some manner of technique I didn't initially grasp, only to end up empty handed.

It was depressing, though I suppose it made sense as the horse's wings were tiny things which shouldn't be capable of creating enough lift anyway. Still, I found myself irritated, and feeling rather trapped despite the fact that I could at least walk around. My cage may have been a bit larger then I had first anticipated, but I was still contained to a single small area.

Thankfully I was able to find a narrow opening in the mostly blocked off cave which gave me something to do. Exploring the mostly collapsed caverns, I had worried that I would need to bring some manner of light along with me. Thankfully that didn't seem necessary as no matter how dark it got I was still able to see as though everything was illuminated by the evening sun.

Wandering through the winding caves, I was surprised to find that they felt vaguely unnatural in a way. They were too wide, too tall, and were oddly smooth, as if they had been worked by tools at one point. They werent perfect though, as they had clearly been uninhabited for a very long time.

So long in fact that stalactites and stalagmites had begun to grow, as had a good number of strange mushroom varieties. Some were small, and grew near what little water managed to seep its way down here, but others were different. These strange ones took root on wherever they could find, spreading up walls and even across ceilings in great green carpets.

The first, less numerous ones were short, and brown, with black spots and short fruiting bodies that resembled arrow heads. The more numerous variety had large bulbs with a dark green top and a bright emerald underside to them. They looked large enough to serve as a single meal for one of these horse things, and though I was tempted to take a bite, I resisted that urge. Though I wasn't worried about poison, I was quite aware that spreading them accidentally might be a bad idea.

For all I knew, they might very well eat living trees given the chance, and I didn't want to find out if I could feel pain. For that reason I gave them a respectful distance and continued deeper, eventually getting close to the cavern I had detected a few days ago. Only for my signal strength to fade, and my servant to start growing distant from me.

Drawing them back, I made my way back to the surface once more, a bit of disappointment festering at the back of my mind. I had sensed more caves, more potential discoveries, but they were just out of my reach despite being directly under me for the most part. It was at this point that I started to become rather annoyed at my circumstances, and by extension the one who had caused them.

Sure my old life might not have been great, and most of my family might have passed but I still had a sister I loved dearly. Not only that but I had friends, a couple close cousins, and a few gaming buddies I missed intensely. And as I crawled back into my oaken shell I felt the first gust of a deep sadness.

These were the kinds of circumstances that eventually drove a man mad, a fate I deemed worse than death.

You’ve only been alone for like two days, get a grip. I reminded myself, attempting to shake off the gloom which threatened to envelop me.

Brushing off the cold grip of a looming depression I crawled out of my trunk and began to look around once more. This time I turned my mind towards something productive, something I could do to improve the life I was now stuck living. Then it struck me.

If I couldn't go to the people, then I would bring them here, simple as that.

That would mean taming the land around me, cutting a path and perhaps even constructing a small place for someone to stay. I would also need to build up my own defences as well, just in case they arrived with foul intentions. I refused to become some experiment or freak show paraded around against my will by some enterprising douche nozzle.

And to start all of that off I needed to get a better lay of the land around me. Taking stock of the creatures, and plants that I found myself as a neighbor too would help immensely. If I had something worth trading I could procure a revenue stream, and if I had food then perhaps I could aid a weary traveller.

All that assumed that someone would wander into my neck of the woods, but it seemed like a decent assumption on my part. This creature had either been sentient itself, or had owners which obviously were, so either way someone was probably looking for it. I wondered if it had parents out there, but quickly quashed that thought as it was just too damn depressing to think about.

Instead I simply focused on the most present thing I could think of, which was really figuring out what was around me.

Setting my servant to work, I began cataloging the various things that grew within my little grove, only to come to a sudden realization.

I didn't know shit about plants.

I had been an English major who had spent most of his life working as a delivery driver for a cabinet business owned by an uncle. Then after I lost the use of my legs I had become an entertainer of sorts who had somehow managed to leverage his love of games into a career. I was a curious person by nature, and had plenty of random facts about the world, but I was no survival nut.

I knew that if a mushroom bruised purple it was likely the fun kind, that moss didn't actually only grow on one side of a tree and that standing water was bad to drink. I also had a collection of useless knowledge that was vaguely applicable, like how to build a simple lean to but that was about it. I didn't know what anything was called, nor could I recognize the leaves of a dangerous plant, well except for poison ivy.

You only use that as toilet paper once before committing what those leaves looked like to memory.

Still, I wasn't about to let my shit knowledge of botany get in the way of my plan to eventually entice visitors. To that end I decided to start by simply walking the area again, further familiarizing myself with my surroundings. A boring task that I expected to spend the majority of planning for the future and that was about what I did. Right up until I smelled something strange and familiar.

It was the distinct, and unpleasant aroma of death which came from a nearby group of spruce trees. There I was able to locate the mangled remains of a fox which had sought refuge in a burrow only to perish before they could make it inside. It was a sad sight, though my pity for the creature was quickly washed away by a deep, yearning hunger.

It was the kind of hunger I had once gotten when looking at a freshly cooked burger, or a juicy medium rare steak. It was a visceral, and almost animalistic response which didn't make sense for a tree to have given its unique biological needs. For that reason I tried to ignore it, to simply walk past the body, and leave it behind me, but something kept me there.

My servant’s hooves were bolted to the ground, and I could only stand there, barely resisting the urge to bite into the thing. That was until I heard something which startled me from my reverie, and activated my flight or flight response. Namely the rustle of something far larger than my little horse zombie.

I was tempted to stand my ground and try to scare the creature off but I was quickly able to deduce that not only were they bigger but there were several of them. For that reason I decided to scamper off into a nearby bush, where I hid and watched from a much safer distance downwind. The crunch snap of several large animals came closer, and not long after ducking into my hiding spot, I saw them.

Wolves, I realized, but much larger than the ones I knew from earth, and with a hide that resembled bark. It didn't just look like bark, I realized, it was bark, and not only that but the entire creature was made from wood. Dead wood too by the looks of it, which had been gathered into the shape of a wolf, and given the maleficent glowing green eyes of a disney villain.

I was still struggling to imagine what manner of creature was before me when the wolves located their prey. Rather than begin eating the dead fox, the largest of the lot simply picked it up in its jaws, and began to walk away. His packmates were close behind him, and I got the distinct feeling that they were some manner of golem.

Their movements were oddly robotic, and there was no hesitation in their actions. A real wolf would likely sniff around a little more, or briefly scuffle with its fellows over who got it, yet this one did none of that. Rather they immediately fanned out, covered the leader, and followed him out after he had acquired the kill for himself.

The wolf also carried it with a strange sense of reverence, as if it didn't want to damage the creature in anyway.

Curiouser and curiouser. I thought to myself before slipping out from the bush. I had better get back before nightfall. I can keep looking around tomorrow.

Author's Note

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Yearning For More

I stared up at the sky through the eyes of my equine servant, while also extending my new senses upwards. Though I saw the clouds billowing above me, I also felt it in a way that I could never hope to explain to a being that did not have experience being a plant. The closest I could describe was that I could detect the change in air pressure, and it was akin to feeling your bones itch.

A weird sensation, though one that felt oddly pleasurable. Not that kind of pleasurable mind you, as I was no longer a sexual being in the traditional sense, but still quite enjoyable. There was a palpable sense of anticipation hovering over my small grove, and I could tell that not all of it originated from me.

The other trees, bushes, and even grass gave off a sense of yearning, that I again, can't quite describe to a fleshy being. I could just tell that they were ready for the rain, and needed it desperately, based solely on the smell.

I couldn't help but hop from hoof to hoof as I watched the roiling, black mass churn overhead. Lightning could be seen in the distance, and a second later the crack of thunder rolled over the grove. As I felt the ground rumble, I couldn't help but imagine that my stomach was doing the same, my hunger growing to the point that it felt like I was about to die.

I didn't know if that was actually true, and my desire to feed wasn't quite normal, but it was close enough to my experience as a human that it was similar. I had only ever come this close to starving when I had a stomach infection that made me throw up constantly for nearly three days. Back then I knew I wasn't actually going to die however, though this time I couldn't be sure, as it had been nearly the same amount of time without sustenance.

The second crack, followed by a rolling boom sounded almost akin to a dinner bell for some reason.

Almost immediately rain poured down from the heavens in a great sheet, bathing the entire grove in a layer of liquid nourishment. I began to try and soak up as much as I could the moment I felt the water begin to penetrate the earth. My multitudes of mini mouths greedily drank all I could, desperate to ward off the burning hunger in the pit of my soul.

For a moment it almost felt like this was going to be it, and that my woes would finally be defeated. Then it stopped, and I was left feeling satiated, yet I wasn't anywhere close to full. The closest I could describe was that it felt like I had been starving and dehydrated now I was just the latter and not the former.

To say I was confused would be an understatement.

I am a tree, which needs only two things to survive, water, and sun. I suppose air as well, and a bunch of other minor things, but those didn't count. Everyone knew that a plant needed those two main things. Yet no matter how much I drank, I could not dismiss the fiery need in the pit of my metaphorical stomach.

My servant stomped angrily through the puddles before taking refuge beneath my spotty canopy, my anger spilling out through our connection. I reluctantly recalled the tiny horse back into my trunk as I got to thinking, attempting to find some reason for my continued suffering.

The first thing I considered was that I had some kind of disease, or that I was simply being impatient. So to cross one of those things off my list, I continued to drink as much as I could, while also relishing the feeling of being watered. Which felt amazing, let me tell you. It was like taking a long, cold shower after spending all day out in the hot summer sun.

Yet my hunger remained, and though I knew nothing of plant borne diseases, I didn't feel off. At least not in that particular way.

Perhaps I was a different kind of plant, one that required some manner of substance that I didn't know of. Magic was real here, so I thought to myself that it may be necessary for me to consume this energy. None of my new senses really allowed me to detect anything of the sort however, nor did I know how to eat it even if I could find it in the first place.

I decided to comb through my memories, attempting to think of some plant that required a different form of sustenance. My brain immediately latched onto the venus fly trap, though that felt wrong to me. I didn't have some kind of extra orifice, or container where I could dissolve and consume my prey.

I was just an old, ugly tree that had some kind of necromantic power which I barely comprehended. How would I even eat something like that? By sticking it in my trunk and waiting for it to decompose naturally?

Though I had reached a dead end, the thought of meat made my mind go back to the fox I had spotted. That response wasn't natural, I realized, and wasn't something any normal tree should experience. Clearly I required flesh, and though I didn't know how I’d actually eat it, I knew I had to have it.

To that end I extracted my servant from my trunk and set it to work searching out for some manner of small animal. Only to quickly realize just how poor my hunting skills were, at least while occupying the body of a hooved creature. Each step was louder than I wanted, though thankfully it was mostly covered by the downpour that had continued unabated.

I continued to search out any sounds which may indicate a living creature was in the area, but was coming up with nothing. Slumping down into the groove of a sickly evergreen, my servant grumbled to itself while I tried to think of something else I could do. Traps were the first logical conclusion, though it felt like I didn't have time for that, at least not while I was this hungry.

Now getting a little desperate, I decided to try and use my newer powers to try and locate some potential prey. Though I didn't know what I was doing, I managed to push the right amount of power into my trunk and release it in a pulse. One which allowed me to detect every living thing in what felt like the entire radius that I could send my servant.

My soaring hope quickly came crashing back down when I realized that ninety nine percent of what I had sensed was a fellow plant. There was at least one stationary target nearby though, but it was small, and barely larger then what my fist had been. Still, at this point I wasn't going to turn away a free meal no matter how small it was, so I focused on my servant once more.

This time I sent the four legged critter directly towards the tasty morsel I had picked up in my periphery. I did my best to remain stealthy, and though I knew I was only partially successful, the animal didn't move. Even as I approached the tree it was hiding inside of, the thing remained motionless, seemingly asleep.

I wanted to let out a whoop of victory, but I stowed that urge for the moment, as I had yet to actually catch it. I decided to try and remedy this by stealthily climbing up to where I had detected my prey. Though difficult to do with hooves, and a pair of useless wings, I managed to accomplish such a task with only a minimal amount of cursing.

With my tiny legs now balanced atop the slippery branch, I peered closely into the small hole present in the tree. There just inside was a squirrel whose brown fur had long since turned grey from age. Though it opened its eyes to gaze at my servant, I saw no hint of fear, and it simply laid back down a moment later.

Whether it had resigned itself to death, or didn't see me as a threat, I didn't know. What I did know was that I was hungry, and didn't care one way or the other. With my hunger piqued from seeing the small, vulnerable creature, I quickly reached into its hole and grabbed it with a hoof. It fought only briefly, squirming and biting at my rotting limb before swiftly giving up.

The squirrel breathed heavily, as if the brief bout of physical activity had exhausted it completely.

It was almost kind of sad, really. Though it did make me feel a little better about eating it, as it was likely on death’s doorstep already.

With the squirrel held tightly in my grip, my servant clambered back down the tree and dashed back over to me. Walking with three hooves was weird by the way, and it was only made worse by the growing puddles, as well as the continued downpour. I made it back to my trunk a few minutes later, squirrel still held tightly in my servant’s hoof.

There I ran into another problem, one that I had been wondering how to get past since first deciding to go out hunting.

I still didn't know how to eat the damn thing.

The squirrel’s squirming made me realize that I hadn't even killed it yet, and I swiftly remedied that by bashing its head against one of my exposed roots. The strike was quick, and clean despite the rain as well as the mud, stopping its movements after only a single blow. I followed this up by a second, then a third, just to make absolutely sure that it was indeed dead.

With that done, I dropped the thing and began to look around, rubbing my servant’s chin with a hoof. I considered squishing the thing, or perhaps burying it in between my roots, only for some strange instinct to activate. I immediately began to pull through my roots as if I was drinking more rain water, yet it didn't quite feel exactly the same.

I didn't see a reason to resist that urge however, and I actively poured everything I had into the action. This seemed to be exactly what I needed to do, as the skin and muscle of the squirrel began to slough off its body like water. In seconds the creature’s organs, and entire internal structure had sunk into my roots, leaving only a tiny skeleton.

Huh. I thought to myself, the hunger alleviated by the tiniest amount.

Though insignificant, it was still noticeable, and I couldn't help but feel like I had accomplished something great. That feeling of victory grew even more powerful when I suddenly felt a part of myself enter the squirrel. Now looking into my equine servant’s eyes, I was immediately hit by a sense of vertigo.

Looking down and up at myself at the same time was bizarre, and I quickly diverted my focus to the ground. Where all of the squirrel’s meat parts had seemingly vanished into, swallowed up by the soft, muddy earth.

“Huh,” I muttered to myself. “At least now I know where to start.”

I then took a moment to orientate my new bodies, practicing as I puppeted them both around the grove at the same time. The squirrel was faster, though smaller still than even the tiny horse thing. Though odd to control three bodies at the same time, I adapted surprisingly quickly, as if this form instinctively knew how to do that.

Right. I declared. Let's start setting up traps, and getting a steady food supply.

With that thought firmly in mind, I set off into the woods in search of bigger prey.

Author's Note

Catching Elusive Prey

Author's Note

A quick warning. It gets a little violent, a little gross, and a little gorey after this chapter.

You have been warned.

Catching Elusive Prey

My equine servant was currently digging using her tiny hooves, and doing a decent enough job of it. Though the job was difficult, given its small stature, non existent musclstructure, and diminutive limbs, progress was being made. Perhaps all its strength came from my incredible desperation, because after only about an hour I had created a decent sized pit.

Roughly three feet wide and nearly six deep, it would have to be enough to kill or at least wound whatever fell in. Provided they landed on one of the sharpened sticks I had managed to create using the squirrel’s remarkably sharp teeth. I had only been able to create about nine of the things, but that was more than enough to cover the bottom of the other trap.

Jamming the sticks into the ground one by one, pointy part facing up, I was glad my servant was so small for once. At least now I could maneuver around the spikes with relative ease, and even climb out of the hole with only a little bit of struggling. Heck that body was so light that a few careful hoof holds were all I needed to ensure that I could climb all the way to the top.

Ideally I would have liked to get rid of the holds, but whatever fell in likely wouldn't be able to utilize such tiny ledges in the first place. So I merely left them, and grabbed a mostly dead bush I had found, positioning it near the pit so it wasn't quite so visible. A close inspection revealed that any careful traveler would see it, but if they were in a rush the hole would be nearly invisible.

Lets just hope someone is in a hurry. I thought to myself.

I winced suddenly, grabbing my midsection as pain wracked through my physical, plant body. I knew that it wasn't actually my servant’s stomach that was the source of my agony, but I couldn't help the response. It was instinctual to grab one’s self in such a manner when they felt a hunger pang hit them.

And hit me it did, the entire experience making me feel like someone had punched me square in the bread basket. A part of me felt the urge to throw up, or cough, or lay on the ground but I couldn't exactly do any of those things.

Attempting to distract myself from the agony coursing through my very being, I recalled the equine to my physical presence. Then I shifted my focus to the squirrel and sent out another pulse centered on it’s current location. I was able to locate more small creatures, but they were few, and seemed to keep their distance from my tiny soldier.

Grumbling to myself, I sent the squirrel out on a wide arc around my territory, hoping to find something, anything to eat.

By then the equine had returned to me, and it trotted back into my grove to find that I looked terrible. My leaves fell from my branches in significant numbers, and my bark looked dry enough to burn under even the heat of the noon sun. It was like looking at one of those pictures of holocaust survivors who were mere hours away from starving to death.

I wasn't quite sure how that image popped into mind, but it felt apt, if a bit on the hyperbolic side of things. I think I’ve earned a bit of hyperbole however, as this was the closest I’ve been to death since my last life. That train of thought was unpleasant however, and I swiftly focused elsewhere in order to distract myself.

Starting with my squirrel, who had yet to find anything, and who I put back onto autopilot once more. Which was itself a sensation I was growing more and more accustomed to as time passed. This realization made me feel kind of proud, despite the fact that I was about a day from dying of hunger.

Describing the actual sensation is kind of difficult, but it's a lot like how in this life I could control every single one of my branches at once. I didn't need to even think about it really, nor was I overwhelmed by how many of them their were. I simply ran as a squirrel while walking back to my grove as the tiny horse thing, all without any real difficulty.

Each one of them was watching, observing and maneuvering through their environment without suffering for my split attention. It was an incredible sensation, and one which I wished I could explore more, but my stomach took top priority at the moment. To that end I decided to send the horse back out once more, my desperation demanding I do something, even if such an action wasn't likely to bear fruit.

Either way my tiny servant began to creep through the underbrush, utilizing the pinging ability I had learned not long ago. Again, I found nothing, though this time I decided to lower my standards even more, aiming for even smaller living things. What I found made my heart leap into my metaphorical throat, as there were numerous creatures all over the place.

Following one at random, I was able to locate a mass of beetles hiding beneath a rotten chunk of bark. The sight was not an enticing one, but I scooped them up regardless while directing the squirrel to do the same. In little time at all I had managed to return with a whole arm load of insects, and after drowning them in the muddy puddle I dropped them over my roots.

The ensuing meal was… strangely bland and almost like eating celery sticks. I felt like I got something out of it, but it was barely even worth the effort of consuming them in the first place. I was about to wipe bugs from the menu completely when I felt my consciousness invade the multitude of tiny creatures.

Seeing out of four eyes had been a little overwhelming, but suddenly gaining an extra hundred or so in one go was… easy. I know that it might not sound like it would be, but these iddy bitty critters were just so insignificant that it barely took any focus. I could puppet them all around with ease and there was no drain, or any real effort necessary in the first place.

I directed the squirrel to continue harvesting more insects while also sending out the first beetle squad to do the same. While doing so I wondered what purpose they would have once I managed to find a more reliable food source. The insects couldn't fight, or really do much of anything save for maybe serve as tiny security cameras.

Which wasn't that bad of a consolation prize, now that I was thinking about it.

I needed to be aware of my surroundings at all times after all as it wasn't like I could just pick up and run if things went south. Which meant that knowing what was coming far before it arrived was of paramount importance. To that end I began to calculate how many of the insects I’d need to cover the entire area, and resolved that it would take a while.

Either way I had a tireless work force on the job, though that didn't exactly fix my hunger issue. The bugs were simply too small of a meal for me, even if it felt nice to eat anything at this point.

Focusing on the equine, I was about to consider testing the limits of my control zone when I heard a sudden cry from somewhere nearby. I couldn't place exactly what it was based on the strange animalistic scream, but it sounded almost like a deer. The realization sent off alarm bells in my head, and I immediately directed my horse, squirrel and even bugs in that direction.

My hooved servant was first to arrive upon the scene, one which I immediately recognized as a pit trap I had made near the edge of my territory. Nestled between two trees, it had been relatively easy to conceal using a pile of dry branches and a layer of mud. My efforts had evidently managed to bear fruit, as the top layer was gone, and I could hear further cries from within.

Trotting forward at a slow, steady pace I peered into the trap and found that I had indeed managed to catch a deer. Laying on its side, the creature had been unlucky enough to impale two of its legs and catch a spike through the torso. The result was unfortunately plain to see. It wasn't about to die anytime soon, even if it continued to panic like it currently was.

Of course it had to be a gut shot. I thought to myself grimly. The poor thing is going to take hours to die down there, if shock doesn't do it in first. Kinda surprised that hasn't already happened now that I’m thinking about it.

As I inspected the creature I realized that it was likely someone’s pet, given its attire. Wearing a golden sash around its shoulders, the creature’s horns were adorned with flowers tied together with silver string. Its fur was also well maintained, and it had the appearance of a rather proud housecat that had finally left the house.

Its eyes didn't have that tell-tale spark of intelligence, though they were bigger than a normal deer’s. Leening a little closer I was able to discover that it's screams almost sounded like a cry for help. I couldn't be sure about that however, as its whinnies and weird noises were completely alien to me.

Either way I was left feeling rather bad for the poor bugger, as deer seemed to have been domesticated here. That realization opened the door to the fact that there might be a settlement nearby though I resisted the urge to think about that too much. I had much more important things on my plate, like what to do with the deer currently dying in one of my pits.

What to do, what to do. I thought to myself.

In The Pit

By then my small swarm of insects, and my squirrel had arrived, so I was about as ready as I was going to get. Another scream from within the pit reminded me that I had better come up with a plan quickly, lest some other predator steal my meal. It was a no-brainer in my mind, though it wasn't one I liked very much considering my combat ability was… nonexistent.

I could throw stuff at it, or try covering it in dirt and hoping the deer suffocated, but both of those solutions would take too long. I needed to put the thing out of its misery, and quickly if I hoped to get more than a tiny, isngificant little meal out of it. Which was no longer an option I even considered, as I needed something big, and soon.

With that thought firmly in mind, I decided to locate the biggest rocks in the area, and gather them near the edge of the pit. A task made easier by my many, many eyes and hundreds of scurrying legs. There werent exactly a lot of stones kicking around this neck of the woods however, so I only found two.

It will have to do. I thought to myself as I hefted the rocks.

I nearly dropped the damn things when another scream emanated from within the pit, reminding me once more why I was here.

Positioning my squirrel, and my insects around the lip of the pit, I pulled back my servant’s hoof. I then peered over the edge, and let loose at the unsuspecting beast’s skull. Distracted by its attempts to remove its limbs from the spikes, I managed to land a firm hit right between the eyes.

Dazing it, I lobbed the second one immediately after the first, pegging it right in the eyeball. The creature released another cry of agony, and recoiled in pain, its eye visibly damaged by my attack. Though hurt, it was anything but dead, so with grim acceptance, I used my equine servant to grab a left over sharpened stick and leapt down at it.

Only to immediately realize that I should have readied my impromptu dagger earlier as it was ready for me. Despite not being able to see through one eye, and impaled by three different pieces of wood, the deer still had a counter attack ready. So when I leapt over the side, it positioned its antlers at me, catching the undead filly before I could hit my target.

The ensuing hit likely would have knocked the wind out of my undead, provided it was actually alive. As it stood right now, the only thing such a blow did was annoy me, and nearly make me lose my grip on the pointy stick I had made. The deer was swift to follow up on its success and tossed the equine against the muddy wall with a wet squelch.

Landing on the ground, I was quite glad that I had missed the spikes and a second later I was back up once more. Upon rising to my hooves, the deer seemed briefly confused, looking at me as if I were some kind of lost little puppy. That was until it noticed the fact that my servant was quite clearly dead, then its face morphed to one of fear as well as revulsion.

I didn't want it to feel anything at all however, and to that end I began weaving through the spikes, charging at it without a weapon. Who despite the odd angle, still managed to get its antlers between myself and it. Upon seeing this I stopped, lest I be tossed aside again and my meal be put off once more.

Calling the rest of my servants, I directed the hooved one to pull one of the spikes from the ground. The move seemed to surprise the deer, who hurriedly began to gnaw at the branch sticking through his foreleg. By the time I had managed to use my tiny filly legs to remove my new weapon, two things had already happened.

The deer had freed its limb, and my tiny swarm had managed to land on him. With tooth, claw and tiny insectoid mandibles, I bit at him, aiming mostly for the neck with limited success. Though the attack was surprising, and did cause the deer to be distracted, this bout of panic didn't last long.

It quickly managed to ascertain the threat level of my tiny servants, and knocked aside the squirrel attempting to chew its throat out. The rest were subsequently ignored as it turned its attention back to the undead filly charging it with a sharpened stick. I was faster this time, and I managed to spear it in the neck, though it caught the meat near the side.

Blood trickled out, and a pained cry shot from the deer’s lips, though I had been hoping to see a crimson torrent. Evidently I had missed anything important, and I couldn't let go in time before the creature struck back. Using its antlers like a bludgeon, the creature smashed my servant against the wall, then again, and a third time.

I couldn't get my hooves under me fast enough to avoid the next slam, and I could feel the filly’s bones begin to strain. A rib snapped, an eyeball popped, and I knew it wouldn't be long before it managed to batter the poor thing into an early second grave. With levels of desperation I didn't even know were possible now feuling me, I frantically attempted to think of some way out.

Or maybe I should think of a way in. I thought to myself.

Grabbing hold of my insects, and squirrel, I stopped their current attempt to chew through the deer’s neck. Instead I directed the beatles towards the wound in my foe’s belly, while the largest of the bunch was sent at its blind side. Upon reaching the open wound, the tiny creatures did not work to widen it, but rather they crawled inside of it.

The feeling of having a few dozen bugs suddenly burrow beneath your flesh was evidently unpelasent. The deer stopped and gazed down at its midsection in horrpr, staring at the bumps that began to dissipate over its torso. Giving my squirrel the chance it needed to launch itself at deer’s already bloody eye and hitting right on target.

Its tiny sharp fangs made short work of the already damaged flesh, and while the deer screamed in agony, I pushed further. By the time it started to scramble at its face in an attempt to remove the formerly furry attacker, it had alread burrowed into its skull. It seemed to realize this fact the same time I did, as its screams grew to a new level of horrified panic.

To the point that I was slightly unnerved by it all, and using my hooved servant, I pulled the stick from its throat. Then, before it had a chance to react, I drove the peice of wood through the underside of its jaw and up into its brain. Though I wasn't able to put a lot of strength into the attack, I had done enough that the deer died a few seconds later.

The second this happened I recalled my servants, and surveyed my kill.

It was messy, to say the least, and the entire thing left an unpleasant taste in my metaphorical mouth. What I had done had been… necessary, but deeply repugnant, and I regretted being put in such a desperate situation. If I wasn't so close to dying of starvation I would have done things much differently, but that didn't matter right now.

As of that moment I had a meal in front of me, and no way of getting it all the way back home in an expedient fashion. What I could do was hack off a few limbs, and hope to god my horse thing could carry it all the way back before other scavengers showed up. That seemed about the best course of action I could come up with so I sent my various undead to work, splitting into two groups.

The baby horse thing used the sharp stick to punch holes through the flesh of the creature’s neck. The goal being to eventually remove it completely, but it was a difficult process as I couldn't exactly move very quickly. The squirrel and beatles were doing a little better, as at least their teeth/mandibles were at least sort of capable of cutting.

It still felt a lot like amputating a foot with a spoon, but after how depserate the fight had been, I would take it. In the end I managed to cut through the flesh of both back legs and the neck in only a few short minutes. The bones would be difficult however, so I directed the horse to jam the stick between the vertebrate and push as hard as possible.

For a moment I didn't think it would work, but then it slipped forward and with a pop the head was removed. It almost seemed rather comical, though I didn't find it funny, especially with the danger no doubt lurking nearby. As if reading my mind, one of those wooden wolves howled somewhere nearby, signalling that its brethren were already on their way.

I swiftly put a stop to my plans to remove more of its legs, and settled on the two back ones as well as its head. The last of which I threw up to ground level before shifting my attention to the exposed bones waiting for me. These back limbs were tougher than even the creature’s spine and it took a few attempts to remove them.

They were also much heavier, and it took everything my tiny servant had to throw them up to my waiting swarm. I then began to extract the zombie horse child when I heard another howl, this one much closer than the last. With the fear of death now instilled in my very soul, I urged the hooved undead to climb as fast as possible.

Thankfully it was able to escape relatively quickly, and it then gathered up the animal parts as best as it could. Which meant biting down on the deer’s throat in order to carry the head in its mouth, while half carrying, half dragging the legs. To say this was awkward would be an understatement, and I only just barely managed to keep it all together.

As I recalled the horse zombie, I sent the beetles out to recon the area, with the squirrel waiting to run interference if necessary. Thankfully my main servant was able to escape a full minute before the wolves arrived and began to inspect my pit. Though I initially took their sniffing as little more than curiosity, I soon noticed that there was an odd intelligence to their actions.

It even started to track my little zombie child a few feet before losing her in a thick, rather pungent thorn filled bush. Luck had been on my side this time, but I knew if the fragerent patch of berries hadn't been there I’d be done for. Either way the wolf didn't seem overly concerned, and turned its attention back to the kill it had managed to scavenge.

The other two packmates it had arrived with turned their attention outward, guarding the site while their leader descended into the pit. Which it did with surprising grace, leaping off the sides in order to deftly land between the muddy walls, and the now spikes. It then grabbed the torso of the deer in its mouth, and leapt out of the hole with remarkable ease, walking proudfully back into the bush.

I sent some of my beetles to follow them but they didn't get far before reaching the edge of my territory. I desperately wanted to find out where they were coming from, or where their den was located, but evidently that wasn't about to happen. So instead I simply focused on the meal which was swiftly approaching my position.

The mere presence of which was enough to make my very soul begin to quiver in anticipation. I needed the meal worse than I’ve ever needed anything in either life, and it wasn't long before I finally had it.

The horse creature dropped the pile of meat amidst my exposed roots and hastily stepped away. A good thing too, as the second I felt contact with the bloody flesh I began to inhale, liquifying everything. Brains, blood, muscle and sinew ran like tiny rivers into my waiting roots.

The taste was beyond comparison, and I likened it to veal, only somehow even more tasty. It was also sweet, yet salty, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to savor the flavor for as long as possible. By the time that thought even went through my metaphorical head, I had consumed it all however.

Thankfully my stomach was finally full, and a quick inspection revealed that I was no longer quite so sickly. Even my undead servant was slightly better off, its rotten body no longer appearing as if it would fall apart at a moment’s notice. Whatever force had healed it had done a good job too, as I could sense that its bones had also been mended.

That wasn't all though, as I had also gained an animated deer skull which sported a pair of rather brightly glowing gold eyes. It almost reminded me of that old video game, doom or was it death? Whatever, either way it looked like one of those floaty soul things, and sure enough after a moment of focus it levitated all by itself.

“Odd,” I muttered through its lipless mouth, my words coming out as an entirely different language.

Author's Note

My Guilty Mind

Author's Note

This update brought to you by... noone! I just wanted to thank you all for keeping this story at the top of featured for a whole dang week!

Expect more soon ;)

My Guilty Mind

As that single muttered word reverberated about the grove, I felt a sudden wave of… something hit me right in the face. Or at least it felt like it was hitting me in the face, as nothing had physically impacted my body. Rather it had slammed into my mind like an out of control wrecking ball, ruining my thoughts and sending me spiralling.

I suddenly knew how to dance as a four legged creature, my equine servant unconsciously doing a swingy jig. Its hooves tip tapped as it leapt back and forth, as if joined by a whole host of others all doing the same actions only mirrored. Then something shifted, and I knew how to knit a scarf as well as weave a bowl using only my hooves.

My zombie foal plunked down on the ground and began to go through the motions of creating a hat from a ball of wool. That urge didn't last long, and when it faded I felt possessed to look around, inspecting my surroundings closer. Only this time the trees were not simple masses of green and brown, but just looking at them made a name pop up in the back of my head.

I knew that eating the roots of that particularly ugly little bush would cure gum rot. Boiling the leaves of the tree to my immediate right would alleviate a headache. If left out in the sun for a month, the moss growing near the rock wall could serve as a sturdy cape. All that information and more surged into my mind with the force of a runaway train.

By then nearly all of my undead servants had either fallen inert, or were currently twitching on the ground. All save for the floating head, whose glowing golden eyes seemed to be boring into my trunk.

I tried to stop, or at least slow the tidal wave of information but it was like fighting a storm by blowing in its general direction. More info came, despite my protests, forcing me to know how to properly grow a mossvine tent, as well as how to build a cabin. I knew how to make pottery, how to treat the sick, the warning signs of various illnesses and the location of many herbs.

I knew how to create potions of strength and aid using things found in the local environment. I knew what the stars in the sky were called, were to find them, and what dark portents their placement foretold. I knew to fear the early waning of the sun, and the lingering presence of the moon after dawn.

I knew what animals called this forest home, as well as how best to acquire their aid if necessary. Images of monstrous creatures came to mind a moment later along with their strengths and weaknesses. I knew the signs of a recent cragadile passing, and how best to spot the coming arrival of an ursa major.

If or when these beasts bedded down for the winter was known to me, as well as how best to caox them to sleep. I knew what to do should a cockatrice lock eyes with me, and I knew how to treat the partial petrification that may occur because of that meeting. I understood how to make a mean beetroot stew, and how to make even lichen grass soup taste at least somewhat palatable.

Other more mundane information continued to pour into me, but it wasn't nearly as interesting as the fact that I knew magic. I wasn't sure how, but I innately understood what ritual would be required to purify a large body of water. I knew how to conjure a rain cloud, and bring forth a storm, as well as how to urge a weak plant to grow strong once more.

Each one of these rituals required preparation, sometimes weeks of it, but in the end the result, I knew, would be worth it. Like how I could summon an elemental spirit to my aid, though it would only do so temporarily, and would demand compensation based on the task given it. There were other rituals, though they all seemed to be around that same theme of empowering, or using nature to do something.

Unthinking creatures don't know how to use magic, nevermind this kind of ritual magic. I realized, to my dawning horror. Nor do they cook, clean, or maintain such complex dwellings.

The yawning abyss of dread only opened wider when I realized that not only did I know how to orchestrate rituals but I could also speak.

“The words I speak are of a foreign tongue,” I muttered through the mouth of the deer head.

The words sounded almost like elvish, or at least the basdardized version that my friend had done for a dungeons and dragons campaign. He claimed that he was an expert in some version of elvish as created by J.R.R Tolkein, but I didn't know if that was true. What I did know was that they were startlingly similar, though this version was even more elegant, and flowing.

It was as if each word was sung, rather than spoken and I knew it all.

“Animals don't have language,” I muttered to myself in this new, foriegn tongue.

Dropping the deer skull to the forest floor I stood there quietly, each one of my servants merely resting on the ground. Some part of me wanted to get back to work, to find if my territory had grown, or what other changes had occurred. Yet I could only sit there, staring up at the sky and wondering what I had just done.

I killed and ate some poor creature in a rather awful manner. I reminded myself.

I tried to reason that I couldn't have known, but the warning signs were all there. The decorations in its antlers, the sash that had been around its neck and was now likely lying on the ground somewhere. I felt the urge to locate the flowers that had been bound around its antlers, but quickly realized that they had been destroyed during my retreat.

Its golden sash, though, that at least had a chance of still being in one peice, so I set out to confirm that. I knew I was avoiding my guilt, but I’d feel at least a little better knowing that I hadn't destroyed that as well. Sure enough within a few minutes some of my beetle scouts had found the thing stuck in a tree branch somewhere nearby.

Retrieving it took even less time, and soon my hooved servant held the finely made scarf in her forelimbs. It was soft, immensely so, and not only that but I had the feeling that it was tough, not only because it was undamaged. There was also a faint shimmer visible when it was viewed from a certain angle, and I knew the instant I saw it that it was an enchantment.

A rare spell cast not by deer, but rather a unicorn, though that was where my newly acquired knowledge ended. It was a sobering thought, and one that I ruminated on for several minutes before finally letting it go. I needed to focus on something, anything other then the fact that I had recently murdered an innocent, sentient creature.

No, wait. What did that pedant on the internet say? Sentience was the possibility of feeling and experiencing things while sapience was the higher cognitive function that intelligent creatures possess? It felt correct, but then again I had also felt correct when I called it sentience earlier. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that not only was the deer smart, but the foal had likely been as well at one point.

I gazed down through the eyes of the deer head, and inspected the zombified horse standing before it. When I focused closely on it I recalled that not only was it intelligent when it was alive, but it was also called a thestral. Thinking harder on that subject, I was able to recall that they were one of the cursed tribes of ponies that had been created during the sister’s thousand year war.

Other than that I recalled that they were good fliers, had excellent night vision and great hearing. They were also supposedly quite dexterous, and could eat meat unlike the majority of the pony tribes. Their closest cousins were pegasi, which the thestrals were created to imitate though they were also closely tied with kirin, and the crystal ponies.

I knew that the kirin were supposedly an attempt to create a superior version of the unicorn by embuing them with a hint of dragon blood. Unlike the thestrals who were gifted the essence of the night itself, these enhanced unicorns were wild and incredibly strong. Their creation was much different from their crystal pony allies who had been bred from a small clan of isolated earth ponies who ate rocks for nutrition. Using magic, the dark mother had enhanced their latent abilities to the point that their bodies had become what they ate.

That was all the information I knew, though I could also recall a scattering of rumours.

Such as thestrals being part vampire, and could enter a frenzy if they imbibed the blood of their fallen foes. The kirin supposedly lacked any empathy and were prone to fits of incredible berserker rage where they tore apart friend or foe alike. Strangest still were stories heard of crystal ponies being so alien that they struggled to integrate with others not of their kind.

I couldn't recall where I had heard these things, or where my victim had, but it felt like a semi reliable source.

Truth lies at the crossroads of myth and legend. I mused to myself.

Either way I put away such thoughts for the moment and focused on the fact that although I had their skills I didn't have their memories. I couldn't recall their name, though I did know the naming conventions of several different deer clans. I didn't know what they were like, or what gender they had been, though I knew a lot about the roles the three genders had.

Wait, three? I thought to myself, only to ignore that for that moment. I have bigger things to worry about, like where the rest of this person’s family is.

I tried to recall the location of their village, or camp but I came up with nothing save for vague impressions. From it I was able to gather that the deer had likely been looking for something but had been driven off course. From there it had likely gotten lost, as its knowledge of the immediate area was minimal at best.

I suppose it's a good thing that I don't have to worry about a whole host of angry magical deer kicking down my metaphorical door. I remarked to myself. Though they will come, and I have a feeling they will find me sooner or later. When that time comes I will have to have some manner of reparations prepared.

I struggled to imagine what that may mean in this context, and swiftly abandoned the thought entirely. There were simply too many variables and in the end I couldn't see the future no matter how hard I tried. So I instead focused on my present, namely by figuring out the difference between the foal and the deer.

I had raised them both using my innate magic, though bringing back the deer had been a reaction, while returning the pony to unlife had been deliberate.

Maybe I need to consume them in order to gain their skills. I thought. Well, might as well test that out.

I urged the zombified child over to my exposed roots, and tried to consume it but stopped myself almost immediately. Its flesh hadn't even begun to melt yet I already felt the urge to projectile vomit while convulsing in disgust. To say the act was repugnant would be to denigrate the word vile to the point that it was utterly useless.

Swiftly removing the foal from my presence I immediately ended all thoughts of experimenting on that front. It was clear that doing so would be bad for me, not only that but I sensed that attempting to eat something so heavily decayed would be deadly for me. Whatever process allowed me to bring back a creature from a distance had evidently sapped it of its possible nutrition.

No matter. I thought to myself. How many skills and abilities would this young thing even have anyway?

I wanted to sigh, as I realized that it would at least know a language, which would in turn allow me to speak to others of its kind. I hoped that they knew enough of whatever elven inspired deer language I currently knew in order to communicate with me.

I really wanted to sigh at that moment, and mimicking the action through the zombie child didn't help matters. I still felt morose, and guilty, a set of feelings I was becoming increasingly familiar with the longer I ruminated on my situation. That was until I forced my thoughts elsewhere, namely to make up for my shortcomings and ensuring they didn't happen again.

To that end I made sure to scan my knowledge of local wildlife, and other species. Thankfully none of the animals I had killed were sapient, nor were there many other smart critters out there. Save for maybe more ponies, diamond dogs, a big six eyed toad, or a wandering dragon, though that last one was unlikely for several reasons.

I couldn't recall anything concrete on that last detail, though I did know that was likely due to a war of some kind. One that the deer avoided involving themselves in, or at least this group did as I knew very little of this event. This was a bit harder to discern given that I, again, did not have their memories, only their skills and a notable bit of information.

Given the only thing I knew was that two sisters had been fighting for a very long, it was safe to assume that this deer had not been involved. Though the odd bunch of rumours, and random bits of info seemed to indicate interactions with traders, or perhaps travelers of some kind. Either way I wasn't going to figure out anything more on this subject just sitting around so I ordered everyone to get moving.

Number one on my todo list. Check the new range of my abilities, as I can sense they’ve expanded. Number two is to hunt some more, as I am no longer as full as I had been a few minutes ago. I stopped there, and really contemplated that last bit of info.

“Now why was that?” muttered the deer skull.

My Many Experiments

Author's Note

Merry Christmas! This was the other half of the previous chapter which accidentally grew far too large.

My Many Experiments

To figure out that little question I started by looking around, and immediately noticed how green everything was. The bushes had new growth, the grass was a vibrant emerald, and even the dying cypress tree nearby looked like it was going to pull through. Which made me realize that I had likely given my excess energy to the others, or it had been taken from me somehow.

As I ruminated on that topic, I began to feel outwards with my roots while pondering the sudden change. I had a feeling that my own internal stomach was relatively small at the moment, likely hurt by my lack of leaves. My body was also still on the mend as it were, and though healthier then before I still appeared sickly from the outside observer.

I paused my ruminations to drink a whole host of large, ugly looking centipedes, turning them into dutiful undead servants. I then sent them back out in search of more prey before going back to what I had been doing before being interrupted. Thankfully I had managed to get an answer by then, though I couldn't quite explain it in terms a human would understand.

You know the mycelium network that connects trees together? Well it also infects a tree's roots and grows inside of them, which doesn't actually feel that weird, let me tell you. The closest I could describe it would be intertwining one’s fingers with another when holding hands.

Anyway, this network was actively pulling tiny bits of nutrients out of me, and my first instinct was to put a stop to it. Something delayed that however, an image of the grove upon my first arrival popped into my head, reminding me of how things had been. Nearly everything was sickly, dead, or dying, and I got the feeling that I had been the cause of all that.

Up until the moment my consciousness was flung here, my body had been a drain on the system. Now the woods were simply taking back the investment they had given me, with a tad bit of interest too. I felt a little spiteful about this, but then I got the odd sensation that my neighbors appreciated my efforts.

Again, there werent really any human terms to explain the experience but I just knew they were happy. So I held off on my instinct to replant everyone in a hundred meter radius, and instead considered the good it gave me.

For one it looked nicer, as a grove of half dead trees in the middle of a swamp was not a pleasent sight. The other trees could also be used as a place to store excess energy for the moment, and in turn they could give that back if needed. After all, only I could protect the grove from outside invaders determined to do it wrong.

My pony servant trotted around the small pond and stopped at the far end, their gaze drawn down to the water. Which looked cleaner, with a healthier amount of plants growing at its bottom and around its edges. There was a bit of algae at the top, but it wasn't so numerous as to blot out the sun for the plants at the bottom.

It was a nice view, though I knew it had a long way to go before it was as healthy as it could be. It was also enough to make me want to continue my experiments, though I again paused that thought process for a moment.

Shifting focus over to my roots again, the deer skull had returned with a recently deceased squirrel. Though done in by what looked like a disease or illness, I still drank it up and received no ill effects from it. The thing didn't even taste that bad either, though I made a note of not doing that very frequently, as I didn't want to push my luck.

What was I doing again? Oh yeah. Experiments. I thought to myself.

Redirectly my hooved servant to a small bush, I began to carefully dig it out of the earth. Once free, I walked over to my roots and dropped it down, my body ready to continue where I had left off.

Consume. I thought to myself, only to be disappointed once more.

Again I couldn't eat it, though this time it wasn't revulsion that stopped me, but rather it felt like biting a spoon. We’ve all done it at least once or twice before, so its not that hard to understand. One moment you’re not paying attention and the next you’re accidentally chomping down on your utensil.

That felt exactly like this, only I knew I was strong enough to bite through the metal if I wanted. That didn't exactly seem like a very good idea though, for obvious reasons, as for one I doubted it would be worth the effort. Furthermore I got the impression that plants simply didn't have what I required.

Plus it felt a little like canabilism, so I decided to put the small bush back for the moment. I even took the time to give it a little water, pruned its branches and muttered it an apology for having removed him from his spot. I couldn't tell if the thing appreciated it or not, but either way it seemed content with the gift of nourishment.

Redirecting my attention outward once more I noted that my small swarm of insects, and vermin were doing well. I had managed to catch a few rats, some large ugly looking bugs with a ton of legs and what looked like a spider with wings. A sight which would be utterly horrifying to human me which seemed oddly adorable through the eyes of my equine servant.

Or at least it was until I crushed it, drank its fluids and resurrected it as a skeletal abomination not meant to live. Even then it was still kinda cute in a weird, creepy crawly kind of way.

Either way I brushed that thought aside when the deer head returned with a brightly colored and very dead bird in its skeletal jaws. After dropping the corpse onto my exposed roots, I consumed its body in seconds, gaining a nice little boost in the process. It also made another question pop into my head, one of many now that I was thinking about it.

I’m not distracting myself from the fact I killed someone, no siree. I thought to myself.

Either way I moved on with my next experiment, namely inhabiting the bird and really feeling out its new senss. I was immediatly surprised when I felt far more in tune with the wind then I had been even as a necromantic tree. My skeletal wings caressed the slight breeze and informed me that a greater gust was coming in a few short seconds.

Sure enough I was proved correct a moment later, and I began to wonder if the thing could fly anymore. It couldn't, unfortunately, which had been the obvious conclusion to such a test, given that it had no feathers to speak of. Only thin, narrow bones, and whatever compound made up its rather thick, narrow beak.

Sending the deer skull off in search of another, I waited patiently while my floating servant hunted its prey. When it returned I did not consume the raven it had killed, rather I set the corpse outside the range of my roots. Then I commanded it to rise, and serve me in undeath for all eternity.

Sure enough, the creature stumbled back up, shaking itself slightly before waiting patiently. Like usual I could see through its eyes, move it around as I fit, and had all its senses. After a quick test I could also confirm that it could indeed fly around like normal. It wasn't an elegant flight, but it was at least able to zip around the treetops without hitting anything.

It also didn't take any extra energy to get it airborne like the skull which took a small, but constant stream of power to stay aloft. I had more than enough though, so I didn't worry about rationing my strength, at least for the moment anyway.

Then what is the deal with you, hmm? I thought while looking down on my tiny thestral servant. Do you require the same flow of magic? If so, how can I give you that strength?

I tried to replicate the process where I gave the skull some of my power, but that didn't work. It was like trying to plug a brick into a wall socket, it simply wasn't possible. I tried a few different ways of doing it but quickly gave up as it was beyond my ability.

I then turned my attention to a fox which the squirrel squad had managed to catch, and was delighted to find it was already dead. Dropping it on my roots I drank it up, and reanimated its body, only now aware of just how good a hunter I’d become. I was no Nimrod, but I was at least a little better then the bumbling English major I had been only a week earlier.

Perhaps all the skills, and experience of the animals are being absorbed, but since it's mostly instinct I don't realize I’m even taking it in the first place? I thought.

Either way it sounded logical, and I decided that was the most likely solution for my sudden prowess. Either way it made me wonder if I had gained anything else from the insects I had bent to my will. To test their ability, I inhabited them fully, pushing as much of my consciousness into their tiny little bodies.

The result was an immediate expansion of my senses, but in a direction I hadn't truly expected. Though they had no organs, or internal structures at all, they were able to keep some of the abilities they had in life. For example, several of the insects could detect the faint presence of chemicals in the air, especially around a particularly unpleasant body of water.

Several others could detect vibrations to a degree that not even my tree body could replicate. On top of that, the ones which used to have large, compound eyes seemed able to tell a lot more about light. I couldn't really describe it in any greater detail, but either way I was kicking myself for not pushing my servants more upon first acquiring them.

Note to self. Test new creatures for senses and abilities I didn't already have. I thought to myself, only to stop. I bet if I combined a few of each insect with the fox I would be able to hunt with incredible skill.

After loading up the fox skeleton with undead insects, I found that was indeed true. It was like the thing had an antenna on its back, and a whole suite of sensors at the ready. To say locating prey was easy would be an understatement, and I was able to discover even the best hiders around.

Teaming the insects up with the squirrels, and birds proved effective and soon I had gathered a small, but respectful army. Not just during the course of a single day mind you, this was an endeavour that I focused myself on for a forty eight hour period. During this time I remained alert and ready, only taking a brief three hour nap near the beginning of the second day.

This seemed to alleviate the malaise which had settled over me, though not completely. I had a feeling that wouldn't happen without me first making up for my most recent, and cruel blunder. I pushed that thought from my mind and spread my servants out far and wide, seeking out the outermost edges of my territory.

Upon reaching these limits I found that it was probably nearly a kilometer squared at this point. During that time I spotted a few larger creatures like a giant six eyed toad that was sleeping soundly in a small bog. There were a few odd looking crocodiles as well, though they looked far too large for me to hunt at the moment.

I also didn't see any wooden wolves during my time, though I did hear them a few times. Whenever I detected their presence I made sure to give them a wide berth, as I was still unsure of how to react to them.

I wanted desperately to simply say hello and perhaps interact with them, though that assumed such a thing was even possible. They could be purely robotic like I first thought, or they might be driven by some creature hostile to giant necromantic trees. Either way I decided that building up a larger army, and explorign the area was a more prudent course of action.

To that end I sent my zombie bird up as high as it was able to go, a process which took some time. When it finally did reach the very top of its height I was able to see for miles in all directions. Not only that but I could also see over the top of the rock wall which had been at my back the entire time.

I saw that it was an incredibly large plateau of some kind, one that was more or less devoid of noticeable features. Perfectly flat, and incredibly high in the air, I noted that there were only a few patches of scraggly grass at its top. Other than that it was just a blank expanse of rather grey stone that stretched on and on for miles before ending well outside my zone of control.

I can't be a kilometer up though, so my territory is likely more of an oval shape. I realized. Though that might not apply to going down.

I directed my zombie bird to descend once more while I prepared my zombie pony to do a bit more spelunking.

Now then, let's see what those noises were, hmm?

Crown Of Vermin

I prepared my hooved servant and sent her down along with a crown of bugs and an entourage of rodents. This time I ignored the various mushrooms and other things which grew along the inside of the cave. Making a beeline for the deepest reaches, my tiny scouts picked up very little save for the occasional drip of water.

That was until they reached the wall of stone I had found before, there I once more heard banging, along with voices. Though I could make out more than I had the last time, it still wasn't quite enough to really pick out any words. Or at least that had been my first thought, but I quickly realized that it wasn't that I couldn't hear them, but rather I couldn't understand them.

Whatever language they were speaking was very guttural, and consisted mostly of growls as well as the odd yip. It almost sounded like a pack of wild dogs talking to another and though I couldn't be sure if they were intelligent it wasn't a leap to assume as much. After all, they were probably the source of the clanging, which meant that they were mining for something directly underneath me.

That thought unnerved me, and something about that sparked some instinct within me which made me rather angry. They could tunnel up beneath me and though I could detect their approach through my roots, I wouldn't be able to impede them. I had a few insects who could dig fairly well but I doubted a handful of beetles would really be able to stop them.

Just imagining a bunch of angry dogs popping up into my forest made my metaphorical blood boil.

Wait, what am I thinking? My forest? I can barely control one tenth of the place. I thought to myself, anger subsiding. Think Xathrid, they don't even know you exist. Why would they attack you? Wait, Xathrid, did I really just think that?

I tried to ruminate on my old name only to find that it eluded my mental grasp no matter how hard I searched. Though irritating, it was a bit hard to mourn something you had forgotten you even had in the first place. Besides, if I was being honest with myself, Xathrid, The Blackblooded fit me far more than whatever human name I had before.

With that minor episode behind me, I focused on the wall of stone and tried to find some way through it. Like the entrance to the cave itself, it wasn't a normal barrier, but rather the ceiling had collapsed at some point. Meaning this little pile could be cleared, if I had something stronger than an infant who lacked opposable thumbs.

Fi. I cursed.

Shifting my focus, I tried to reach out with my roots in an attempt to perhaps clear the debris or hear inside. Though I felt as though it was possible, pushing myself to grow like that absorbed a massive amount of energy. So much so that I stopped almost as quickly as I started, and even then I had already lost half my reserves.

Note to self. Don't do that again. I thought to myself.

I lingered at the collapsed section of the cave and decided to turn back, though not before removing a single rock. It wasn't much, but it made me feel like the entire trip hadn't been a complete and utter waste of my time. Thankfully I found something much more intriguing a few minutes later when I neared the entrance.

Though not new, the mushrooms I saw on my first trek now felt familiar to me in a way that they hadn't before. This time I knew the names of the two most prominent varieties, namely the heart seeker mushrooms and their close nieghbors, paupers choice. The heart seekers were the ones which grabbed my attention more, as they were the arrow headed ones I had seen earlier.

The first was poisonous, immensely so, though it really only became dangerous when stepped on. Or, it could be crushed, and used as a paste which could add an extra sting to any weapon, even a hammer. As the active ingredient would be absorbed by the opponent’s skin after impact, where it would begin attacking the muscles. This would cause immense pain in the target, and would eventually lead to the creature’s heart stopping dead in its tracks.

Morbid. I thought to myself. Though the name is certainly fitting.

Glancing to the larger, more bulbous mushrooms I was able to recall that they were commonly referred to as pauper’s choice. This was due to the fact that they prolifferated quite easily and didn't take much to prepare, but were borderline inedible. It would be akin to chewing on a mouthful of slightly wet dirt with a bit of black clay tossed on top. Regardless of its flavor, I knew that it could be counted on to fill one’s belly for an entire day, though relying on it for every meal was a bad idea.

Not because it was secretly poisonous or something but it simply tasted that awful.

Useful, though I don't think it would make for a very useful trade good. Unless of course I can cook it in such a way as to make it tastier than eating dirt. I ruminated. Unlike the heart seekers which would be immensely useful to me given the fact that it doesn't affect plants, nor the undead.

I plucked one of the arrow headed mushrooms from the patch and inspected it closely. The thing began to curl up the second it was removed, shooting a small cloud of spores not long after. This tiny cloud shimmered slightly in the low light, their tiny green flakes falling to the ground.

Interesting. I remarked. I wonder if that would be enough to take down one of those armored crocodiles I saw or perhaps that six eyed toad I saw earlier.

I decided that was enough messing around for the moment, and chose to go back to hunting and preparing my territory. To that end I dropped the mushroom and extracted my servants, pausing briefly to inspect the collapsed cave entrance. As before it was simply too great an obstacle for my current army to deal with, though I could tell, somehow, that it wouldn't be hard to fix.

Perhaps it was one of the bugs, or maybe the deer, but whichever it was, I could tell that the rocks barring the entrance simply needed to be moved. Unlike the lower passage which would require bracing, and likely some other manner of mining which I knew nothing about. I just needed to find something, or someone strong enough to move the stones which blocked off the entrance.

I skimmed through my knowledge of rituals and quickly realized that magic wasn't going to get me out of this one. Every spell I knew which was capable of remedying this problem required either a dozen other participants or a significant number of ingredients. All I really had were mushrooms, a single deer skull, and whatever plants I could reach within my zone of control.

I could, however, clear the sky for a few hours, force a cloud to rain, or summon a small swarm of insects. That last one felt almost silly considering just how many of the things I had managed to get under my control at this point. I didn't need to waste my magic doing that when I could just leave the rotting remains of a dead fox out and accomplish the same thing.

Either way, I was once more distracting myself with idle considerations and I turned my attention back to what was important. Namely getting some manner of larger creature on my side, like the toad or crocodile, though I swiftly ruled out the frog. It was almost as intelligent as a deer I recalled, and was also fairly useless, save for its incredibly acute hearing.

I wonder if I could make friends with the thing. Some of them do speak the deer tongue. I thought to myself, only to brush that aside. Maybe another time. That's a project that I will start at a later date. Right now I need some kind of ace in the hole if those wolves turn out to be hostile.

With that in mind I decided to begin constructing more traps, and spend some time hunting any creature I could get my hands on. To that end I started by making a bunch of snare traps using the fibre I was able to extract from a vine using a sharp rock. It took a bit of doing, but I was happy with the result as it didn't outright kill or maim the target, unlike the pits I’d made.

With that particularly nasty memory in mind, I went around to the various traps and inscribed a warning in nearby trees. Written in deer, it was a fairly simple declaration to avoid the area, and that pit traps were nearby. I knew it wasn't the smartest idea ever, given that it would likely reduce the amount of prey I caught, but it was well worth it.

Saving my already bruised conscience was a trade off I could live with, though I wished I knew another language. I could presumably run into another of these thestral creatures who likely wouldn't know the deer tongue. Either way they should be able to recognize the little skull and crossbones carvings I made, as those were fairly self explanatory.

I also set up a few classic stickunderabigrock traps, but I focused the majority of my time on the snares. By then I had also built up enough insects that I could watch the majority of my territory, including every single one of my traps. This would, in theory, mean I could react to and save any poor sapient fool who wandered into them, and swiftly kill any animal who was suffering.

This did a little to assuage my guilt, I must admit, though I knew it would only disappear completely when I had the chance to make amends. That likely wouldn't happen for some time, if at all, given how far form home my bodyless scout had likely been before they perished. Either way it was becoming slightly easier to ignore those nagging thoughts at the back of my mind so that was good.

This process took another two days, but in the end I had created quite the production line of insects and small mammals. I had a good length of fibrous rope, dozens of traps, and a steadily growing army of small woodland creatures. Heck by the second day I had so many eyes and ears that I began to pick my targets a little more carefully.

Those creatures who were happy and healthy were either released, or ignored by my hunters while the sick and weak were pruned from the pack. This too made me feel a little bit better about my earlier gluttony and potential ecological damage I had done to the grove. It seemed to be working though, as creatures were starting to move back into the area by the end of that second day.

It was then that I took a short nap and dreamt of my next big meal, namely the cragodile which I had been monitoring. The thing was old, from what I could tell, and ornery to boot, fighting with anything larger than a fox which strayed into its swamp. It had reminded me of an aged tiger looking for a worthy fight, but alas, it was the biggest thing in the area.

Not even the other cragodiles could challenge it, and either swiftly escaped the geezer’s jaws or simply avoided it completely. Either way it was alone in its sullen little pool, either sulking, or waiting for prey to wander past it. In fact it kind of reminded me a bit of myself given how little it actually moved, and I couldn't help but pity the beast.

As I returned to the waking world once more I began to wonder once more about the nature of the wooden wolves. They werent natural, that much was obvious but they also werent sapient, given how robotic they had appeared. I stopped that train of thought immediately, reminding myself that I hadn't thought the deer had been a thinking creature either.

It didn't help that the deer had known nothing of these creatures, save for the fact that they were good hunters. Knowledge it had likely picked up during the time it had spent attempting to escape their wooden jaws. This didn't exactly help me, but it did absolve me a little of my gut reaction which was to destroy the things.

You know, they probably don't howl out of a sense of victory, or urge to warn their fellows. I realized. It's probably to intimidate any adversaries in order to better secure their prey.

From what I had been able to gather only the largest of the bunch seemed even somewhat intelligent. Notable for its increased size, and more vibrantly glowing eyes, this beasty moved slightly less robotically than the rest. With that said, it still didn't seem fully sapient, though I couldn't exactly say why I knew that bit of information.

A concern for another time. I thought to myself. Right now I got a big ugly reptile to hunt.

Author's Note

This update was made possible by the wonderful support of readers like you: Ech, Tailsic, Chrisb32, Nightwing, Tonoz, CoreyPeters, Thane, Renegade, Sunset Flash, Kyokimute, Monsterkittie, Louts Petals, Tacocat, Tom, MestreJ, Aang Slyver, Canary in the Coal Mine, Ceepert, Starless, Vi Watch, Facinus, M, Nfreak, Venerable Ro, Blade Tech, Cryil Shadeclaw, John Gonzales, Nightwing, Peter Coulthard, Srgtartman, Thane Kull, Victor, Dale, Dragons' Sheppard, Egery007, Gear change the earth pony, Ivar, James, Kali, Lich Lord Krosis, Menthol Qtip, Midnight Serenade, Mop Hop, Nathan Brown, Octavia Lowbar, Pacsik, Soundtea, Hannibal, Fiamgoku, Grub, Matias Duran, and Steven.

An Old Tiger

As my hooved servant began to wander in the direction of the cragodile, I started to ponder the possibility of constructing real defences. A wall possibly, or maybe a series of trenches which could funnel visitors towards a single well marked path which would be easier to defend. I didn't really have a reason for this desire, but being rooted in place had made me rather paranoid given the fact that I couldn't simply run away.

This annoying fact plagued me most of my waking hours, but I took solace in my small army. Though composed mainly of insects, and rodents, it was at least enough to fight off the majority of the creatures that called this forest home. My thoughts were interrupted wehn I heard the sound of large wings somewhere overhead.

Far bigger than a bird’s, I knew that either a pegasus was nearby, or some new beast had wandered into my territory. With this thought firmly in mind, I willed the deer head high into the air, levitating it above the tree line. Sure enough, there were a pair of pegasi idly flying off in another direction, their pace lazy and relaxed.

I couldn't tell much about them other then the fact that they were larger than the thestral child and wore respeldnat golden armor. These interlocking plates covered their entire bodies, and obscured their cutie marks or any other notable features. All I could see was white fur, gold armor, and a pair of swords strapped to their sides, even their conversation was too muddled to pick out anything meaningful.

“Damn,” I muttered in the deer tongue. “I would have liked to at least watch them, or find out where they came from.”

I observed them for a few minutes but discovered little, as their pattern was lazy and seemingly random. That was until I remembered a random detail from my past, namely what a search pattern looked like. The pegasi’s path did indeed resemble a grid based effort to find something within my forest home.

What exactly they were looking for was beyond me, but they had yet to find it, obviously. Either way I did my best to put their presence out of my mind for the moment. Though intriguing, I was about to go hunt down the largest prey yet, and would need my focus.

Even if it took every ounce of restraint not to follow the pair.

I really need someone to talk to. All this silence is beginning to wear on me. I thought to myself. Come on, get it together. We got shit to do.

Focusing once more on the task at hand, I gathered up the thestral, the deer skull, and the small swarm of insects. The result of which was a sight which probably would have unnerved the average passerby. As I balanced the skull on the back of my hooved servant whose hair was absolutely filled with undead winged beetles.

I didn't care about appearances though, and swiftly made my way over to the more swampy area. There I made my group spread out, and begin scoping out the area from nearly all angles, while the thestral stayed in place. Acting like my base of operations, the foal hid itself in the nook of a large, and quite ancient elm tree.

There she remained while the deer skull floated up above the canopy, and the swarm fanned out in all directions. Once I had managed to locate the cragodile I brought my lost soul in for a closer look, inspecting the beast intently. Only to immediately kick myself for not paying more attention to the creature the first time I saw it.

Sure I had managed to figure that it was old, and big, but I failed to comprehend just how large the beast was. What I had assumed was a boulder was actually part of its tail, and furthermore, it was probably the size of a pickup truck. It likely was about as heavy as one, if not more so given just how rocky its exterior was, and how big the stones adorning its hide were.

Though mostly a greenish grey, it had a good number of colorless splotches on it, and it stuck out quite easily from its surroundings. Or aleast it did now that I was looking for spots of white which were incredibly rare in the swamp. With that in mind I was better able to make out its full bulk and estimated that it was at least fifteen or so foals measured from end to end.

I know that was a silly method of measurement, but I was struggling to come up with a more suitable alternative. Either way it left me with the impression that this big guy was unusually large, given the couple other cragiles I had spotted. Unlike them, his eyes werent a bright yellow, but rather a milky white, signifying that he was either blind, or was nearly so.

As the deer skull rested in the boughs of a red maple tree, I continued to inspect the beast, and soon realized something important.

I was not about to kill this thing the old fashioned way.

It was simply too large, and there was no chance I was going to be able to drag it back to my lair, even in pieces. It would take days to hack apart, provided I could even do so, given how rocky its hide was. That was without even factoring in the fact that the wood wolves would likely find it by then and likely snap up my kill.

And there were other predators to think of, plus it might rot in that time.

The worries just kept coming, but I was determined to beat this beasty so I decided to shift focus. Leaving my deer skull up in its perch, I focused on the foal, and the swarm, using the insects to find some prey. Which didn't take long at all, though it turned out to be a set of adorable looking otters, So I chose to keep looking.

After finding a lone snake which I recognized as a cottonmouth viper, I commanded the thestral to sneak up on it. A plan which was fairly simple to accomplish as the snake obviously wasn't expecting to end up as prey. Snatching it from its resting spot, I tried to bash its head against the exposed roots of a large tree, but it managed to squirm out of my grip.

Thinking itself smart, it spun around and sunk its fangs into the thestral’s forehoof, pumping venom into the undead creature. Who was, of course, utterly unaffected by the attack. The animal never managed to realize where it had gone wrong though, as I stomped its head in a moment later.

Though a little grim, I took some solace in the fact that I had ended its life quickly and cleanly. I then reached out with my aura, pushing my magic to the limits as I grabbed the reptile. In the end I managed to reach it, and with a bit of energy I managed to bring it back from the dead under my thrall.

Though I gained no nourishment from its death, it didn't take much to force its return to the realm of the living. With that thought in mind, I made the snake crawl up the foal’s leg and wrap around her neck where it remained for the moment. While I recalled the thestral back to its nook, I sent out a fox towards the cave with the intention of securing a few choice mushrooms.

Once I had managed to gather up a good arm load of the things, I used a bit of extra fibre to bind them together. Then I secured them to the ribcage of the critter and sent him out towards my scouting party who were still observing the cragadile.

Little happened while they waited for the fox to arrive, and the cragadile remained in the exact same spot. Heck it moved so little that I half considered the possibility that it had simply died of old age while I was waiting. Then it twitched, snorted, and wiggled its body into a more comfortable position, sending ripples of water across the pond it called home.

Oh yes. You are going to be quite useful indeed. I thought to myself. Now all I need to do is time this perfectly and you’ll be mine with nary a fight.

Focusing on the thestral, I retreived the fibrous rope, as well as the mushrooms before dismissing the fox. It wouldn't be needed, unlike the deer skull, and the snake, who would be the only two animals I required at the moment. But before I could start my attack I needed to tie the mushrooms to the snake’s body, a process which took longer than I would have liked.

I really need to make some real rope, rather than this fibre stuff. It's barely holding together. I noted. It should be strong enough for my purposes however.

I shifted my attention into my lost soul, and used it to scoop up the undead reptile before levitating up into the canopy. There I did a few calculations before depositing the snake into a rather thin branch above the cragadile’s head. I then began to descend down on the beast, my many, many eyes watching as the beast continued to remain motionless.

That was until the lost soul was only a few feet above its head, then it began to stir and sniff around. Its snout raised up into the air, and its body shifted into a more battle ready stance, preparing itself for a fight. That wasn't what I had in mind however, so rather than bite or headbutt the creature, I merely nipped at his snout.

The creature growled, and snapped at the deer skull, but its bite went wide, missing by a considerable margin. I continued my attempts to move it into a better position, and zipped around to its right before biting its cheek. Another failed attempt to chomp my lost soul in half followed a split second later, though the cragodile was getting closer.

Each slam of the beast’s jaws was loud, so much so that it was audible even to the thestral foal. Thankfully I was able to keep out of its reach, and angle the deer skull around its bulk with a bit of luck.

Staying ahead of the thing, I continued to work it into a better position by niping at its face. This worked for a little while, but then it stopped, seemingly having grown bored with my presence and given up. I tried to egg it on by biting its snout, but was surprised when it suddenly lurched upward in an attempt to swallow the lost soul hole.

Perfect. I though to myself.

Using a bit more power then I would have liked, I maneuvered the skull out of reach while also releasing the snake. The cragodile didn't know this however, and as it tried to follow the bothersome deer, another reptile was quickly closing in. Then, just as the great beast was about to make a snack out of my floating servant, something long and thin landed on the crocodile’s tongue.

The enormous creature recoiled in confusion, its attempts to crush the deer skull all but forgotten. It didn't have long to contemplate the sudden change however, as the snake surged towards the back of the cragodile’s throat. It didn't get far before the large reptile tried to spit it out, but I had seen that coming, and reacted instantly.

Sinking the snake’s fangs into the roof of the cragodile’s mouth, I pumped what venom was left into the larger reptile. The ensuing roar of rage echoed for what felt like miles, though I was less than intimidated by this show. It mattered very little how strong you were when you had a mouthful of poisonous mushrooms and a face full of venom.

Sure enough I could see that its normal, slightly pinkish tongue was turning purple, as was the rest of the cragadile’s mouth. Spores covered every available surface, depositing enough poison to fell a small city, or at least one large angry reptile. My target seemed to realize what was happening at about this time, and plunged back into the murky depths of the pond it called home.

Water however, could not stop the mushrooms from doing their work, nor did it neutralize the poisonous spores covering the inside of its mouth. It tried anyway though, swishing and swirling the brackish liquid in an attempt to remove the snake. This nearly worked, but also incidently allowed me to mash more of the mushrooms against the cragadile’s tongue.

This continued for several seconds before the beast shuddered to a stop, its jaw falling open. It wanted to close it once more, as evidenced by its twitching and shaking, but the beast couldn't do it. The muscles in its jaw were almost completely paralyzed, and the rest of its body was swiftly following suit.

It was almost a little pathetic watching as the cragadile tried to drag itself out of the water with only its back legs. By then its cries had turned into slurred warbling, its throat unable to form the sounds it wanted to utter. Not like that would have done it much good, as I knew the poison was likely only a few seconds away from completing its deadly work.

The cragadile seemed to realize this as well, as it stopped struggling a moments later. Instead it merely laid back down in the swampy water, its eyes closing. Whether this was a reaction to the poison, or the response of an aged predator finally accepting its demise, I couldn't know.

What I did know was that it was on the brink of death at that moment and a few seconds later it toppled over the other side. Its heart stopped, and its brain soon ceased functioning, marking the end of its no doubt quite long life.

“May you find rest eternal,” I muttered in deer.

I didn't know why, but it felt appropriate to utter a few words before extending my aura once more. Gripping the great beast, I pushed a bit of magic into its body, then a lot more magic a few seconds later. In the end I had to expend nearly a full three fourths of my remaining pool of energy but I had done it.

The great rocky beast rose from the waters seemingly no worse for wear despite the lethal amount of poison that had to be coursing through its body. That didn't matter though, it was no longer living in the traditional sense and didn't require the use of its muscles to move.

I took a moment to look over the enormous apex predator with no small amount of pride.

“You are perfect,” I muttered in the deer tongue. “Now then, let us return back to-”

My little one sided conversation was interrupted when I felt a strange pulse come from another one of the trees in my grove. Following it back to its source I found that a wooden wolf had managed to breach my defences and was making its way close to my true body. Worse still, it was the largest of the bunch, and behind it were a good number of its pack mates following at a safe distance.

In response I recalled all my servants save for the swarm of bugs which monitored my border, hoping against hope that they wouldn't be needed.

Here it is, the moment of truth. I thought to myself. Time to discover if these beasties are intelligent, or not.

Author's Note

A Mighty Foe

I soon found myself looking out over the impromptu battlefield with a mix of anger, and confusion. It was so sudden, and violent, costing me nearly every last one of my servants save for a select few. The deer skull, the filly, and the crocodile thing were all relatively unharmed, but that was just about it.

Exempting those three, nearly everything else was dead, or was now so useless that they may as well be. My flock of birds was now only three strong, the rest were either too damaged, or were otherwise no longer able to fly. Those who had served faithfully and were now flightless were piled in a large heap near an evergreen. I intended on burying them around the forest as I’ve been told that adding bone to soil is actually quite good for plants.

That was a concern for the future though, as right now I had much, much larger concerns. The first, and most important of which was the enemy necromancer who was currently intent on killing me. This may have been a bit of a leap in logic, but it made complete sense to me anyway.

He was evidently only a single person, as he was only capable of piloting one of his servants. If he was a fellow ghoultree like myself he would have had no qualms with moving so many moving pieces at once. This was a bit of a relief, but also quite intimidating as it opened up a great number of possible foes.

Pegasi were apparently thing here, magic was real, dragons flew the skies, and monsters aplenty walked the earth. The possibility of some Smaug-like drake landing in front of me was enough to make my roots itch in fear. Which may not sound that uncomfortable to you, but trust me it's like feeling your intestines twist around inside of you.

Wait a second. I thought to myself. If it was a dragon why would he need someone to feed himself? Aren't they too proud for that kind of thing?

I dismissed that notion rather quickly, as I had almost no idea how dragons worked in this world, making speculation worthless. Furthermore they were considered lazy creatures in most fiction, so perhaps this one was too big for its cave and needed help. Again I shook my metaphorical head, and dismissed my endless musings, choosing instead a more focused line of thought.

Namely puzzling out more details about this new foe that had so designated me its prey.

It was most likely a single person, that much I had figured out from the various context clues. That and it was probably a living creature given all the meat it seemed to need. It also didn't seem to have any other undead servants save for these piles of half rotten wood it used to do its bidding.

This meant that it was either a novice, didn't have enough power to raise multiple things or it consumed its dinner, bones and all. Though, now that I was thinking about it, all three of those possibilities might be correct at the same time. Either way it meant that my foe was likely to face me in person, considering that I had managed to slay his servants.

Which indicated that he may be a bit more physically imposing then a simple tree. Though that logic was a bit shaky, I was fairly certain that my foe was a single person and that they were alive.

This meant one thing, poison. Or more broadly, poison, toxins, and all manner of unpleasantness could be used on him.

I immediately began to gather up every nasty plant and mushroom I could, while also sending out my swarm of bugs. These insects spread wide, flying towards the edge of my newly expanded zone of control. It would be a while before they were able to reach the edge however, so I focused on gathering up what I could.

Which also meant searching out more prey both big and small in order to replace the empty ranks left in my army. This cruel culling likely would have made me feel terrible, but I had my metaphorical and literal back to the wall here. That last bit of emotion I was able to taste indicated that my attacker was confident, and completely enraged.

Meaning his assault would be soon, and would likely be furious. Worse still, he had seen my ace in the hole, yet he was still just as sure of his victory. So he either had a counter to my rock crocodile, or his power was greater than my undead lizard.

Redoubling my efforts on hunting living prey, as well as nasty plants of all varieties, I soon found a great bounty of both. So I began piling one near my roots while the other was positioned near the pool at the center of my grove. Within a few minutes I had managed to gather a good amount of new servants, and a veritable mountain of cruel surprises.

The arrowheart mushrooms made up the bulk of my meaner attacks but I also found a good number of rodents. Normally I would be a little annoyed at the fact that I didn't find anything as big as even a fox but that didn't matter right now. These little critters werent going to hunt, or do anything other than carry their lethal payload before dying a second time, only this time in service to me.

This felt a little morally dubious, but they were already dead so it wasn't like I was forcing someone to become a kamikaze pilot. I also managed to catch a few birds, which I made sure to raise away from me so that they may keep their wings. They werent numerous but I planned on using these new additions in a similar way as their ground bound allies.

Beaks covered in the sap of a manchin tree and bellies filled with toxic mushrooms, they would be potent attackers. I didn't rest on my laurels however, and covered every last one of my furry servants in a mix of unpleasant concoctions. I also got my deer skull preparing a potent spell, though that would take a considerable amount of time before it was ready.

I was drawn from my musings by another ping, this one coming from my insects who had found something interesting. Refocusing my main attention on the largest amongst the beetle swarm, I looked down on what seemed to be a giant pile of rocks. That didn't quite fully encapsulate what I was seeing, but that was at least my first impression of the place.

This was due to the fact that it was less a mountain, more like a million large boulders piled together. Like a giant cairn built by creatures of legend, this mountain stood tall over the mostly greenish brown landscape of the forest. It was also a good distance away from my current location and was just barely visible on the horizon if I used a bird.

No wonder I didn't see it, but shouldn't that be impossible? That mountain is quite tall. I thought to myself.

It should have been clearly visible for miles in all directions yet it was barely a speck from my current position. Looking at it for too long gave me a weird sense of vertigo however, and I chose to ignore that unpleasant aspect of it. Focusing instead on its general appearance and any sign of movement or habitation that was visible on or around it.

A quarter way up the gentler sloping eastside was a cave notable for its size and the fact that smoke was trickling out of it. This opening was large enough for a good sized city bus to pass through, and had numerous tracks running up to it. These looked to me like the kind of prints made by the wooden wolves, though at my current distance I couldn't be sure.

There were also a clumps of ruins both closer to the top of the mountain, and near the lake which brushed against the mountain’s western side. These were intriguing, and made me wonder if there were humans or other sapient creatures here but I ignored them for now. I had bigger concerns, and so I focused mostly on building up my forces while arming them with unpleasant tricks.

Yet I thirsted to know more about this mountain and my foe, so I urged the beetle further still. This resulted in an unpleasant tugging sensation, one which made me think I was pulling on a rubber band. Testing the limits of my control zone I was able to discover something interesting after a bit of experimentation.

Namely that as I pushed with the beetle, the rest of my zone retracted, as if adapting to my desires. This was acceptable though, as the cave was the only true lead I had discovered during my swarm’s searches. So I pulled everyone else back to my grove, and continued on with my rather intrepid beetle explorer.

This would take a few minutes though, so I shifted my attention back to my grove. Where I found that I had hunted pretty much every living thing I could even detect. Another pang of guilt shot up my side at this realization, and though it was ignored, I made a note to encourage a larger population of animals when I wasn't in danger. It couldn't undo all the lives I had taken, but it at least assuaged a bit of my guilt.

Then I heard it, the flap of wings, and the idle chatter of some sapient creatures nearby. Shifting once more to one of my avian servants, I observed that a pair of pegasi were patrolling the skies. Their pace was slightly slow, but was headed away from my current location, prompting an uncomfortable question to pop into my mind.

Should I contact them? I thought.

It was possible that they could render aid, but even if I spoke to them they likely wouldn't help me. I was after all, a necromantic tree who had mostly accidentally killed another sapient creature. The thought that they might be racist towards the dear and not care about my vile deed, was uncomfortably soothing, so I pushed it aside.

I didn't have time to grapple with morals at the moment, and chose instead to consider the possibility of recruiting allies. Only for this too to be dismissed as being so unlikely that it may as well be impossible for all the good it would do me. For one I could barely understand them, and worse still I couldn't speak the language, at least the bird couldnt.

The deer skull might be able to catch up, but a glowing skeletal head likely wouldn't endear myself to them. So, with some reluctance, I pushed the pair of golden armored pegasi from my mind and went back to preparing my defences.

Starting with digging a trench in a rough half circle in front of me and ending on either side near the rock wall. This I lined with spikes salvaged from my pit traps, which had already been deftly avoided by my attacker once. Which meant I would need a new trap, one that may be hastily constructed but would hopefully be altogether more effective.

This ditch was easily dug by my rock covered crocodile using its plough of a head which it used to toss aside dirt. Such disturbance likely would have earned me the ire of my fellow trees on a good day, but I sensed a sort of agreement amongst them. From the smallest bush to the largest oak, they shared my unease, and passively agreed with my choice to disturb the earth.

I didn't dig up any saplings however, nor did I trample any living thing, merely transplanting what I couldn't avoid. The job was a bit slapdash, but I was pressed for time and didn't exactly care to make it anything but effective.

I did this by raising the side of the ditch which was further from me and lowering the side closer to me. I then angled the spikes outwards, so if someone came charging over the hill they would find themselves falling face first into a spike. I didn't have enough remaining poisonous plants or fungi to cover all of the impromptu spears. So I used what I had left on the ones which lay on the path the lead wolf used last time.

Though my foe was intelligent enough to use magic, they were evidently quite passionate, and probably wouldn't think things through. Or at least that's what my hope was anyway, otherwise my ditch and spikes werent going to be very effective. Either way I got that done and began digging out a hiding spot at the bottom of the pond when I felt another ping.

It was the beetle again, he had reached the mountain, and was about to enter its halls.

Once more I shifted my focus, and once more I felt the slight strain of vertigo as my full attention was centered on a single point. I immediately found myself within an entrance half of some kind, though it hadn't been properly maintained in many years. The corners were home to dust and cobwebs, while the floor had a fine layer of sediment covering it.

It had clearly seen better days, for at one point it had likely been brightly lit and quite welcoming. Now however, it was a vast, dark tunnel leading into the mountain, its tall ceiling creating a mass of shadow that were nearly impenetrable. Statues stood sentinel along the walls at regular intervals, or at least the shattered remnants of them did.

They were barely even recognizable as statues, as ninety percent of their features were destroyed. Leaving only the hooved or pawed feet of whatever historical figure that they had been modeled off of. I did notice that the majority of the statues sported only a single pair of hooves, or paws, though I did note a few quadrupedal hooved statues.

I could have likely figured out more about this lost civilization or people if I inspected the stone stands a little closer but I chose not to. Time was ticking away, and I needed to locate my foe quickly if I was going to be able to use any information I gathered. So I pushed on, urging my scout to pierce deeper into the tunnel system, its wings buzzing furiously.

As it flew, I inspected the ground and noted that there were plenty of prints made by the wooden wolves. There were also signs of something having been dragged down the tunnel, likely indicating that they had taken down a larger foe. There werent any other prints however, at least none that were fresh enough to make out anything significant.

My attention shifted as the tunnel widened slightly, only to narrow again further down, creating a bottleneck. It was at this point that I saw a large wall rise up in front of me, a destroyed gate house standing in its middle. Anchored on both sides of the tunnel, the fortification sported many arrow holes, and a few spots overlooking the ground, which could be used to deliver burning pitch.

It was a formidable defence, or at least it would be if its linch pin was not a pile of rubble. Which itself had barely been cleaned up, with only a small path having been cleared in its middle. There the prints were much easier to see given the large amount of crushed stone that littered the path.

Again I saw the evidence of numerous wooden wolves passing through the area, their prey sometimes dragged behind them. There was also no other sign of another creature joining the wolves during any of their hunts. Only the comings and goings of the bark covered predators as they brought their prey back to a point somewhere beyond the walls.

I continued to follow them, though I was paying more attention to my surroundings this time around. I was almost immediately rewarded with emerging out into a much, much larger cavern that was unlike anything I had seen before.

Directly in front of me was a second set of walls, though these were almost completely knocked down. Whatever invading force that had attacked this place had left most of what I saw intact, with the exception being any defensive structures. Walls, barriers, and fortifcations had been pierced or toppled, allowing me to see the city beyond relatively easily.

And it was beautiful.

Even empty, and partially destroyed, I could tell that this place had once been home to a powerful civilization. Homes and buildings were constructed on the two towering sides of the cavern, several series of long staircases connecting them all. The ground was occupied mostly by defences, or a large fresh water lake that ran lengthwise down the open cave.

This strange, long body of water was fed by multiple waterfalls that originated from further in. Their source was ultimately a hole in the ceiling, from which poured a continuous torrent of fresh mountain runoff. Which was then carefully guided through many narrow passes occupied by hundreds of now inert, and broken waterwheels.

Before finally landing in the jagged green lake that ran most of the length of the cavern and effecitvely dividing the city in two parts. From there it was cut up into four levels, each one of which rose up above the other, creating an enormous staircase. That ended near the ceiling, where a large, partially damaged stone bridge connected the two sides.

On the left side of the bridge there was a small guard house that had been almost completely leveled. While on the other there was a relatively undamaged castle that sported the only sign of movement anywhere in the cavern. Peering a little closer I could see what looked like dozens of bat winged ponies crawling over its exterior.

They werent alone however, as twice as many wooden wolves were corralling them back into the central keep. There they were sequestered away from my prying eyes, disappearing so quickly that I couldn't figure out much about them. They looked thin though, and wore only ratty clothing or literal rags which dangled over their privates, saving their modesty only slightly.

With the workforce now locked away, I expected to see a great swarm of wooden wolves emerge from the castle. That however, didn't happen, rather a single creature nearly ten times the size of the other predators made its presence known. Immediately I was beset with terror, as I watched a great black dragon sprint across the bridge and run in my direction.

Its wings were enormous, but were so ragged and tattered that they obviously wouldn't be capable of generating lift. That didn't bother the great beast however, as it was quite fast, and was making disturbingly good time. Its long, leaping gait may have looked a little odd to most, but it was quite effective in carrying its enormous bulk.

Focusing a little closer, I inspected the creature as best as I was able to while it traveled down to my level.

It was the length of most buildings, and was likely as long as an entire city bus, without even counting its tail. Its wings were three times its size, but had very little flesh connecting the bony parts of the appendages, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. Though intimidating, he was definitely not undead, as I could see his chest expanding and contracting as he ran towards me.

His great chest filled with air, stretching the thick grey plates that covered his belly, and the majority of his underside. The upper half of him was protected by onyx black scales that were each large enough to serve as the breastplate for a human warrior. These scales were smaller around his four, three toed legs, the less visible scales blending together like chainmail.

His head was perhaps the most unusual part of his anatomy however, as his long, narrow skull sported two horns. These resembled that of a bull’s almost, as they stuck out a few feet before curving forward and extending past the end of his mouth. Which was predictably filled with daggerlike teeth, though I noticed that he was missing several of his pearly whites.

That wasn't the only thing he lacked however, as one of his eyes was a milky white and sported a deep scar running over its middle. The frill running down the majority of his long, almost serpentine neck was similarly damaged, as were some of his scales. Everywhere I looked I saw numerous discolored sections that had likely regrown imperfectly after he had recovered form some battle.

I couldn't speculate for long however, as he began to near my location, thus allowing me to see more of his features. Namely his bright yellow and slightly glowing eyes that burned with naked contempt. His thin, slitlike nostrils snorted, causing twin clouds of green gas to shoot out of them like a pair of exhaust ports.

All in all he resembled the black dragons of legend, his body long, and a mix of both serpent as well as lizard. His wings were connected to his body on the back, directly above his foremost legs, and his tail sported a single bone like spear tip at its end. He was also quite heavy, as I could hear the echoing thump of his passage long before he reached my beetle’s location.

So enthralled by his appearance was I that I didn't even think to retract my beetle until it was too late. The dragon had noticed my scout, and with a snort, unleashed what looked like a blast of acidic smog. My theory was tested a second later when my buggy servant was dissolved and my connection severed.

Great, acid. Just what I needed. I thought to myself. How am I going to counter that?

I didn't have an answer, so I did the only thing I could do, prepare for the worst.

Author's Note

A Desperate Scramble

Author's Note

Expect 3 more updates to this story this month, and 2 to Mother Of All, very soon.

Supported by the usual peeps.

A Desperate Scramble

To say I was panicked would be an absolute understatement.

My roots writhed within the ground, my trunk groaned and my entire form twitched with nervous energy. This was not a fight I was truly ready for and nothing I had faced so far would measure up against it. My struggle with the deer couldn't even be called a battle, nor could my attack on the crocodile thing.

The only conflict that truly equaled what I was about to face was the attack of the wooden wolves. Even then, this was going to be far, far more even-sided. Where before the wolves couldn't scratch me, the dragon could no doubt melt me with its acidic breath.

It knew of me, it had tested my defenses, and still, it came, thus it had at least a good inkling that it could best me. That knowledge alone was enough to make my entire body ache with a strange desire to flee. I knew that it was impossible, given my physiology, but fear was rarely a rational response to pressure.

I pushed down that urge, burying it beneath a cold, and calculating exterior that bellied my still burning panic. Immediately I began to go over what I knew of the creature, attempting to find some weak points I could exploit. The dragon was blind in its right eye, so keeping to that side could aid my crocodile thing when it eventually attacked.

Other than that it had a few spots on its hide which were thinner, and could likely be damaged more easily. Those were points where my many rodents and other tiny creatures could deliver their toxic payload. I also had a large swarm of insects, a modest defensive ring, the crocodile, and finally the deer skull that was still preparing its spell.

I wasn't totally certain if I would even live long enough to unleash its magic, but I was hopeful. That sense of hope grew as time passed, and I calculated just how much toxic or poisonous stuff I had stockpiled. It was enough to wipe out a small city if dropped into the water supply or at least take out one rather mean dragon.

The only thing I couldn't be certain of is if I would still be alive by the time it dropped dead.

A ping brought me from my musings, and I realized that my time was swiftly running out. The dragon had neared the edge of my zone of control and was making a beeline for my position. It moved at a surprisingly quick pace, swiftly maneuvering through the underbrush despite its massive size.

And it was massive, dwarfing my crocodile, though thankfully not by much. However, where my animalistic servants had weight and toughness, this thing had dexterity and intelligence. It knew landscape well, avoiding cliffs, and leaping across the narrowest points in creeks in order to move quicker.

I would have maybe five minutes before it arrived, meaning I had very little time to do much of anything. I could get a considerable amount of panicking done between now and then but decided against it. Instead of wasting my time, and frying whatever equivalent to human nerves, I had, I chose to slather the exterior of my trunk in mud.

The layer of quickly drying dirt would prove little barrier to the acid, but it was better than nothing. By the time I had managed to get a solid application of earth across me, the dragon made its presence known. The distant thumping of its footsteps was punctuated by the crack of a tree being toppled over.

Sure enough, the angry creature was barrelling directly at me while still avoiding the pitfalls I had placed. Judging from the way it was running directly at me, it didn't think I’d make any more traps in the time since our last fight. That was made obvious by the speed at which it was running at me, though I wanted to maximize my chance.

So just as it was nearing my grove, I dove one of the birds into a dive bomb, slamming it into the right side of the dragon’s head. The sharpened beak may have easily gone through normal flesh, but draconic scales were made of sterner stuff. Thankfully it hit with such speed that it splattered its partially rotten guts across the creature’s head in a mass of gore.

Its poisonous and toxic payload delivered, the bird died a second death, having forced the dragon to stop. More confused than anything, it tapped the side of its face only to blink in shock when it noticed what had impacted it. My attacker didn't remain still for long and soon resumed its sprint, only this time being more cautious.

The second he directed his attention back into running forward, I launched another bird, this time aiming for his blind eye. My intent was to inject some of the poisonous sap directly into his brain and end the fight in an instant. Unfortunately, that's not what happened as he raised a hand at the last second and swatted it away.

This slowed him for even less time, but it didn't matter, as I had subtly changed the course of his attack. Now sprinting directly for the toxin-covered spikes, the dragon was only a few bounding steps away from hitting them. I ensured he did so by swarming his face with gnats, using the tiny creatures to try and bite at his eyes, blind or otherwise.

He inhaled a lungful of acidic smog and released it a moment later, killing my servants while also creating a smokescreen. Which once he emerged out onto the other side, put him directly over top of the spike-filled trench I had dug just for him. The dragon was quick and saw the trap laid for him, yet it didn't matter as he had too much weight behind him.

His wings flared, and his back legs tried to skid to a stop, but the effort proved to be wasted as he landed directly into it. One lucky spike went right through his hand, the dragon’s own weight working against him. The rest mostly brushed against his hard scales, but a second wooden spear pierced an injured scale and dug deep into his chest.

The creature released a roar of agony, and pulled his hand from the trap, cradling the injured limb. As he struggled to free himself from the other spike, I readied the majority of my swarm only a few feet away. Sure enough, he removed the spike and attempted to crawl over my pit without getting impaled for a third time.

It was at this point that my tide of vermin slammed into him, their numerous forms crawling across his body. For a moment the dragon seemed just confused, but that vanished the second the first rat bit into the soft, exposed flesh of his underbelly. That was all though, as hundreds of insects swarmed over his open wounds, crawling into the damaged muscle structure.

Rats chewed on his wings, squirrels wriggled their toxin-covered bodies against his injuries and the swarm pressed in. Their potent payloads of poisonous death were delivered perfectly, with one of my winged minions pecking away at his damaged eye. Now covered in stinging sores, burning blisters, and horrible rashes, his time was already numbered.

The heart seeker mushrooms were already doing their work, and nothing could stop the end from coming. The dragon, however, was either oblivious to this, or was too blinded by rage to care, and released a cloud of acid from his maw. This thick fog melted every servant that I had not managed to pull away at the last second, reducing my force to single digits.

It didn't matter though. He was in pain and was going to die if he didn't manage to heal himself. The waiting game had begun, whether he knew it or not.

With another bellow of rage, the dragon charged, his dark scales glinting in the low light of evening. He was intimidating even still, but I had cards left to play, and attacks yet to launch.

The dragon made several loping, awkward steps towards me before being intercepted from an unlikely direction. Coming once more from his blindside, was my crocodile servant, who clamped its jaws down around the dragon’s midsection. It then twisted, pulling my foe from its feet and dragging it down into the widened pond with a powerful tug of its undead muscles.

The dragon was so caught by surprise that by the time he righted himself he was half submerged. The pool wasn't overly large though, and a good chunk of the muddy water was displaced by the two enormous creatures. That didn't matter though, as I was focused entirely on attempting to drown the creature, or at least stop it from breathing more acid.

I was at least successful with the latter, as it could no longer inhale, and prepare for another bout of acidic fog. Now blinded by the dark water, and unable to breathe, the dragon panicked for a moment, scrambling to escape. My crocodile readjusted its grip and chomped down on the dragon’s neck before thrashing as hard as it could.

The feeling of the undead animal’s teeth beginning to pierce its scaley hide shocked the dragon profusely. Its struggles became more focused, its attempts to escape more well thought out, though it still took time. I had hoped that it would be enough to drown the creature, or at least give it a lung full of water, but I was mistaken.

The dragon was strong, strong enough to pry the crocodile’s jaws off and throw it away. Giving my foe enough time to clamber up out of the pond, its chest heaving with exertion. Lungs now full of air, I resorted to plan B, and bit down on the dragon’s jaws with the crocodile’s, keeping its mouth from opening.

I then attempted to wrestle the creature, using the undead animal’s enormous bulk to hold it down. A plan which went relatively well, as the dragon couldn't get the leverage necessary to free itself. I didn't rest on my laurels, however, as I unleashed every last insect, and rodent I had left, sending them on one final suicide run.

Insects crawled under his eyelids, and into his open wounds while rodents of various sizes used another avenue. They used their teeth and claws to push their way under the dragon’s scales, or into scratches opened up by the cragadile. The feeling of numerous insects and small mammals clambering around inside his body must have been unbearable.

His cry of rage became a stream of panic, and pain, any words he tried to utter being lost in the process. This terror soon fell away and was replaced by an incredible wave of anger that erupted as an explosion of acid. Almost immediately the jaws of my crocodile were melted away, allowing the dragon to kick aside the rest of the animal.

Without any teeth to bite, and now missing the majority of its head, the crocodile sat off to the side. The rest of my vermin and insects were then destroyed by a puff of acid which the creature all but bathed in. The corrosive attack didn't bother it one bit, though it did a great job clearing away the majority of my servants.

It then released a guttural cry of anger, and stomped up to me, its mouth opening wide. Its deep inhalation was stopped midway by a bird that nosedived straight down the dragon’s throat. The bluejay disintegrated almost instantly, releasing the toxic payload it had stuffed its gullet with.

I didn't give the dragon a chance to recover however and used the croc to headbutt my foe in the midsection. Acid sputtered across the ground, launched prematurely, and landed far away from my main body. This was little more than a delaying tactic at this point, but that was completely fine by me.

Sure enough, the enraged dragon turned to the crocodile and unleashed another burst of acid. The undead beast died a second time, leaving behind only four limbs and the majority of its tale, with its main bulk now a liquid. This would have been a great shame, but it was ultimately necessary for my plan to function properly.

The dragon didn't relish its victory for long though, as it quickly turned back to me and charged once more. Its lungs filled with acid, and I prepared myself for the worst, knowing there was little I could do to stop it. The deer skull needed more time, and throwing the foal in the way would have been a waste of resources.

So I chose to find out just how tough my new form was and took the blast of concentrated acid on the metaphorical chin. The mud did little, as expected, but my bark didn't need much help repelling the wave of acid, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. In fact, the pain was unlike anything you could ever imagine, as it both burned and stung.

The closest metaphor I could come up with would be getting stung by a million enormous flaming bees. The actual damage it dealt was fairly minimal, however, with my tough wooden exterior taking the brunt without being destroyed. Smaller branches dissolved, along with any moss or other imperfections which dotted my exterior but that was it.

The dragon was surprised by this and readied another burst of acid, intent on finishing the job. And it may have done just that, had my deer skull not completed its ritual, and unleashed its magic. A sudden crack, followed almost immediately by a boom, was all the warning the dragon got before it was struck by lightning.

The bolt came from nowhere and hit my foe on the forehead, flash-frying its one healthy orb in its socket. Flesh, bubbled and popped while a horrified, warbling scream spilled forth from the dragon’s twitching maw. Its body spasmed, its arms and legs twitching as the energy coursed through its form and burnt it from the inside out.

The sight of the creature lying there, unable to do anything but scream in pain brought me little joy. I knew it was me or him, but bringing such agony to a living thing was not something I could celebrate. My brief respite was banished unexpectedly soon as the dragon lurched upward and stumbled over to me.

Still twitching, and now completely blind, the dragon inhaled a long shaky breath. The sight of the horrifically injured creature walking up to me was a shock, to say the least. I had nothing left, no tricks to play, no final servants to unleash, all I could do was sit there, and wait.

Wait, as I felt its claws grapple my bark, a second before acid splashed against my sides. The agony was incredible, and I could feel roots disconnect as they were severed near the base. Hunks of bark dribbled off, and branches fell, the acid slowly but surely cutting through my defenses.

In desperation, I began to try consuming the still leaving creature, using my remaining power to liquify its muscles. An attack that seemed to be working, but not very quickly, putting us both in nearly the same position. The third wave of acid crashed against me and then a fourth soon after, causing incredible damage.

I could scarcely put to words the pain I felt in that moment, a sentiment I no doubt shared with my foe. I felt bits and pieces drip away from my body, while the dragon was being eaten alive by a carnivorous necromantic tree. There we remained, grappled against one another, both unwilling, and unable to give up the fight until one of us won.

And that person turned out to be me.

The dragon tried to breathe one last time but struggled to do so, only to cough twice and begin spasming. Its heart was likely stopping, either that or the fact that I had dissolved the majority of its muscle mass was getting to it. Either way, the creature was dying, and I was not about to let up, not while victory was so close at hand.

I pulled harder, ripping the meat from the still-living dragon’s bones until with one last shudder, it fell still. A moment later I felt its life leave it, the final vestiges of existence fleeing from its shattered body. I didn't wait for a moment, and immediately began consuming the dragon, hoping that its essence would heal me.

And I was right.

The dragon’s body was incredibly potent, and nothing so far could even hope to compare to it. A million rats could not equal this one meal, nor could a thousand deer or trillions of bugs. I knew in an instant that there was simply too much for me to even consume, but I had to have it all.

So I diverted that energy into healing myself, my trunk rapidly filling back out before hardening. New branches sprouted and reached for the heavens while new roots extended from my base, digging deep into the earth. My senses expanded, my abilities grew, and I soon became the largest tree in the grove by a large margin.

Even with an increased energy tank, I couldn't keep it all, so I did what any good plant would do and I shared. Siphoning my stolen powers into the other plants around me, I willed the place to become more wild and filled with life. My regret overtaking so much this place morphed into an intense desire to see creatures of all sizes darken the undergrowth.

Through the deer’s skull, I saw the bodies of my deceased servants get swallowed up by a ring of green. Their forms were absorbed back into the earth that had birthed them, their nutrients returning to the soil. That wave of verdant green extended in all directions, wiping away my fortifications and replacing them with flowers.

But not just flowers, but new saplings, mushrooms, ferns, hedges, every kind of plant you could name. The ground and sky became crowded as they all tried to muscle for space in the increasingly closed space. That discordant energy soon harmonized, and a pattern emerged amongst the plants of my grove.

Space was given, paths were cleared, and the pond once more became a pristine blue, reflecting the sky. It took mere moments for a consensus to pass between my fellow plant life, and all bent to my designs. Though hospitable to visitors, if they left the path they would come face to face with every danger the forest could muster.

Meanwhile, the closest trees which had so generously served as my batteries grew taller than even me. Their trunks cracked, their branches shivered, and they surged upward, creating a vast canopy that could not be pierced by outsiders. Yet despite the sky being covered, light poured in from above, casting my grove in a sort of perpetual Twilight.

It was beautiful beyond words, and I would have cried had I had tear ducts. Instead, I merely continued to siphon away the last dregs of the dragon’s power, feeding it to the grove. I urged my brethren to grow wild, and free, to keep all of us safe from intruders, and to encourage the animals to return.

Though it would take time, I could already feel the hungry eyes of many creatures upon the new growth. The bulbous purple fruit being grown by a nearby willow was already attracting birds aplenty. While bushes sporting bright red berries had smaller critters sniffing around their roots. Everywhere I looked I could see that they were slowly returning to this place which was the grave of so many of their kin.

It wasn't perfect, but it was close.

As the last of the dragon’s spirit was drained away, I turned the deer skull’s gaze back down upon myself. Where I found that I was no longer the withered, unpleasant-looking husk of a tree that I had been. I was still intimidating as all hell and had a visage that would startle children, but at least I didn't look like I was about to die.

My blackened trunk was twisted, and gnarled, sporting what almost looked like faces screaming in agony. Skulls and other bits of bone could be seen protruding from me at odd angles while my leaves had become blood red. Now numerous, and no longer shriveled, my leaves greedily drank the sun’s light for what felt like the first time.

I was not a pleasant sight, but neither was the space beyond my grove, or at least that's what outsiders would likely think. The pond was full of plant life, and the space around it was clear of other trees, but it was not completely empty. Fruiting mushrooms as bright as their flowery neighbors rose up everywhere, creating a mostly harmless field.

Beyond that though, it became dangerous as other carnivorous plants, and poisonous things grew in abundance. Bright red mushrooms stood next to saplings that sported almost reflective blue bark. Flowers all the colors of the rainbow dotted the ground while multihued moss grew wherever it found purchase.

To an attacker, the forest immediately around my grove would be a twisting labyrinthian hellscape. To the denizens that called it home, it would be a utopia filled with food so abundant that it more than made up for the danger. More impressive still was the control I had over nearly every single plant both big and small that called my grove home.

An unspoken agreement had passed between the various plants around me, granting me sovereignty over them. They all knew what I had done to protect them, and what I had given back when I was able to do so. This had seemingly impressed the other old trees which had once been stewards of this land.

So they gave that right to me, allowing me to piggyback their senses and perceive what they did. Furthermore, I could feel their agreement with my actions and reveled in both their new power, as well as the new growth. They saw what I had urged forth from the dirt, and smiled, at least metaphorically anyway.

But that wasn't all, as I could also subtly shift the forest around me, urging trees to lower their branches. Combined with twisting a few bushes, I could effectively cut off the path leading to me while opening new ones. It felt almost like I was one giant organism rather than a simple tree and its two, now three servants.

For as my new place as protector of this land was established, I felt the last of the dragon’s energy drain away. Without any other distractions, I urged the now clean draconic skeleton to rise, rise and serve a new master. It did so eagerly, but not without struggle, its massive form requiring a different level of control when compared to the others.

I had to focus on it, giving the undead more attention than even a few thousand undead bugs required. That was a small price to pay to see that hulking monstrosity stand once more. Its eyes alighted with not maleficence but a kind, deep muddy green flames that inhabited its empty sockets.

With the igniting of those flickering lights, I felt a flood of knowledge the likes of which I could have never anticipated. I knew the draconic tongue, I knew common as it was referred to, I knew the secret smoke signal art of the thestrals. I knew how to speak old ponish, clicktongue, the language of the ancient bat pony tribes, and several more.

I was also inundated with magical knowledge both necromantic and mundane. I knew how to use dead wood to raise up wolves to be my bidding and how to do the same to a regular corpse. I understood that while the wolves could be programmed, the other undead required constant focus.

Something I had in abundance given my unique nature.

In addition, I recalled a considerable amount of battlefield know-how. Like the construction of siege equipment, how to assault a castle, the fine art of logistics, and far more. Not all my newfound skills were quite so normal however as I also understood the intricacies of torture.

What tools best-inflected pain out of spite, or to actually acquire the information I sought. A few spells and a bit of patience were all I would need to get even the most willful individual to spill their guts. It was morbid, but I didn't receive any memories of this, so I was saved from that at least.

There was more, far far more, but the rest was not quite as splashy as what I have already mentioned. To summarize, the dragon was likely a general of some kind, as well as an accomplished necromancer. He knew the land, he knew how to fight, how to command, and how to manipulate others to do as he willed.

He also knew how to resist mind magic, and had likely used this knowledge quite a bit. I could just tell that he had been forced to put that skill to the test, along with his ability to ignore pain. The combination led me to the conclusion that he had likely been captured by whatever enemy he had been facing. From there he had been tortured and had his mindscape invaded by someone seeking answers.

After that, he had likely escaped and was trying to rebuild a private army of his own away from other factions. How he had located the bat pony slaves or what he truly planned on doing was unknown, but that made me realize something. His wooden wolves would still be operating without their master, at least until their energy ran out that was.

That could be days or weeks, however, and by the time that happened his captives would likely be dead. With that thought in mind, I urged my draconic servant into motion, pointing him at the distant mountain. It was with no small amount of amusement that I sent the tyrant back to liberate the people he had enslaved.

Hopefully there I could uncover more about the strange history of this land and its myriad peoples.

Help Offered Freely

As my greatest servant was making a beeline for the mountain, I consider my own safety. Though leaving myself so vulnerable may have made me a bit panicky at first, now I had far fewer concerns. I could, after all, sense nearly anything that entered my domain, and with my deer skull, I could survey the skies.

I was relieved to find that nothing was coming, nor was there a speck of golden armor anywhere to be seen. Not that I feared what a couple of pegasi could do, but rather I knew they would report the changes in the forest. A little hard to hide the sudden sprouting of a huge ghoul tree, and about a mile of the woods growing twice as wild overnight.

It would bring attention eventually, but I was hoping against hope that I would be able to process things one at a time. A little silly to wish for that when my experiences so far inclined me to believe otherwise, but wishful thinking is not logical. Nor was my appreciation for my corner of the forest, as I found myself awestruck by its beauty once more.

It was one thing to feel all that new growth, and experience it through the senses of a plant. It was another to actually beheld it with my eyes, or at least, the eyes of my undead servants. Who moved through the wood with surprising speed, the plants within parting before them like a crowd before their sovereign.

It made my metaphorical heart swell with pride, and a protective urge to build at the back of my mind. Though they were not truly intelligent and were just plants, I was getting fairly good at judging their moods. Though not true emotions as I knew them when I was human, there was a strange approximation that the trees felt.

Even the smaller bushes and grasses had a sort of desire to grow. When joined together with the larger plants they had a kind of intelligence that had a limited range of things it could feel. Still, it was there and was akin to how I felt about my dog in my previous life. I was protective of her, and knew she could experience pain, but was not truly sapient such as I.

They at least alleviated my loneliness somewhat, so it wasn't too bad.

My servants reaching the edge of my forest brought me out of my musings and forced me to pay attention. Standing at the edge of my influence I noticed just how stark the differences were when compared to my domain. The lands in which I was sovereign were verdant in the extreme, making the rest of the forest seem almost barren in comparison.

Where my territory was a mix of swamp, and temperate, here it was flatter, more deciduous. The air was dryer, and the sounds of life were less common, as were the bugs which were steadily moving in. It was almost a bit unpleasant to gaze upon all this space which could be filled with plant life, or other critters.

Putting that thought aside, I focused on my mission and reminded myself of why it was important. There were living, thinking things that required my help, and who would likely perish without it. Though it may have just been my guilt talking, I couldn't leave them to their fate without at least making an attempt to help them.

Perhaps I would even discover who the filly’s parents were, or at least a little more about her history. Regardless, I had a plan in mind, and I focused completely on it, ignoring everything else in my path. With all other considerations an afterthought, it took little time for me to maneuver my servant back to the mountain.

The dragon’s instincts remained, meaning I didn't have to learn how to use a quadrupedal body. Rather I just had to urge it in that direction and the undead creature did as was commanded of it. A nice benefit, though not nearly as important as the fact that I felt no strain upon pushing the dragon further into the forest.

There was no rubber band feeling, and I could sense that my zone of control was now truly massive. I would need to test this out in the future, but for now, it was just another consideration for tomorrow. At the moment I need only reach the castle I had seen and crush the wolves that oppose me.

Within minutes, I had accomplished the first of those tasks, with my servant arriving at the base of the mountain. Soon after I had entered the dead city and begun to ascend the many steps up to the keep that stood atop it all. Once more my curiosity urged me to peek into the homes I passed, and once more I shut that urge down.

I would have time to map these halls and explore them fully at a later date. Right now I was needed.

The first sign of trouble came from a pair of wolves standing sentinel on either side of the bridge. Upon seeing me they released a synchronized howl and charged directly at me as they were programmed. They were essentially mindless and even with their programming served as little obstacle to me.

A swipe annihilated one, and the thump of my fist destroyed the other before they could even reach me. Not like wooden teeth would do anything against the magically reinforced bone of an undead dragon. Still, more came, and were also disposed of, allowing me entry into the castle proper for the first time.

There stood a dozen more wolves, who thought to ambush me by attacking from all sides at once.

They accomplished nothing.

A whip of my servant’s tail destroyed two, the claws of my dragon destroyed six more, and the rest were dealt with soon after. Their attacks were feeble, and I took my time dashing them against the castle walls using my overwhelming strength. It was an incredible feeling, and I relished inhabiting the dragon due to the power I felt coursing through its body.

Within minutes they were destroyed, and I was able to move further inside, stomping any wolf that blocked my path. Following the only real path large enough for my bulk, I soon found myself in what had likely been a throne room. There I located nearly a hundred of the bat-winged ponies gathered into a large circle at the center of the space.

Around them stood more wolves, half of whom looked ready to attack while the others stared inward. My servant’s presence unnerved the creatures within, causing some to faint, others to scream and one to try running. Sure enough, one of the wolves moved to stop the pony but I put refused to let that happen and leaped upon it.

Crushing it flat, I then grabbed the pony, and placed him back amongst his fellows before he had a chance to squirm away. That seemed to confuse the throng of hooved creatures enough that they didn't try to flee again. Which was good, as the wolves attacked me the second I stopped moving, gnawing at my servant’s bones to no effect.

I made a show of destroying the wolves one by one, tossing them against walls or stomping them flat. I even destroyed several by crushing them between my servant’s massive jaws, turning them into splinters. In less than a minute the necromantic hunks of wood were once more inert, their bodies strewn across the room haphazardly.

When my gaze swung back around and landed on the ponies, they collectively stumbled back a step. I could sense their fear and was temporarily unsure of how best to banish that feeling given my servant’s appearance. Talking was the obvious solution, but I wasn't sure how given that I had no vocal cords to speak of.

I did have magic, however, and with a bit of focus, I was able to use a ventriloquism spell on myself. The target could be anywhere in a hundred feet, but I chose to center it on my servant’s mouth to replicate speech. This felt a little odd, as a dragon’s magic was centered on their breathe, but thankfully I didn't actually need lungs for this.

Just a slow exhale while focusing on my servant’s mouth.

This startled the ponies who were now pressing themselves against the far wall, but I ignored them.

“Test, test,” I whispered to myself. “Alright then.”

I cleared my throat, and plunked down in front of the herd of ponies, attempting to look less intimidating.

“Greetings, ponies,” I began my voice deep and rumbling. “I urge you to calm yourselves.”

That was met with more confusion than calm, but that was to be expected given their circumstances. So I just waited a few seconds until it seemed like no one was about to run away at least. Though no one was stepping forward to chat, I continued on, intent on building bridges.

“As you may have already realized I am not your former tormentor, whoever they may be,” I explained. “Though their bones stand before you, their mind is long gone.”

The room was quiet for several seconds before a rather diminutive and skeletal pony stepped forward.

“R-really?” they asked.

“Indeed. As you no doubt gleaned, they had made an enemy of someone. I am that enemy and I have bested your former draconic master,” I continued, placing a skeletal hand over where my heart would be.

That made the room fall quiet once more, and though I expected a cheer all I got was a quiet sense of relief. Shoulders slumped, long breaths were had, and the majority of the ponies stepped away from the wall. They did not, however, scream their praise from the heavens or anything, and still remained guarded.

“Who, or what are you? Zaxonis mentioned a tree or something before charging off,” asked another of the ponies.

I hesitated a moment, unsure of if I should divulge my rather… unique nature to them, but chose to be honest in the end.

“I am what is referred to as a ghoultree,” I replied.

Fear returned in abundance, but it was almost overpowered by confusion.

“A ghoultree? I didn't think those things were intelligent,” someone murmured.

“I am not an it,” I corrected, putting great pains to not sound offended, lest I startle them again. “Though essentially genderless at this point, you may refer to me as he, or by my name. Xathrid, The Blackblooded.”

Sure enough, they were intimidated by my name but didn't flee or back away at least.

“Uh okay,” murmured the young, nearly emaciated pony from before. “What exactly do you want now?”

“Want?” I hummed to myself. “I would appreciate some company, but as for you lot. You’re free to go.”

“What?” muttered the thestral.

I stood to the side and extended an arm back to the entrance. “I only returned as I knew the wolves would not be destroyed and that you all were still in trouble. With that dealt with you may leave if you would like.”

“Just like that?” someone else asked.

“I like to think I’m a good pers… creature?” I scratched my servant’s head. “Regardless I like to think I’m not a monster anyway. So you are free to go wherever it is you desire, though if you’d like I have plenty of food and a dry place to stay.”

“So you are enslaving us?” another pony asked.

I sighed and planted my face into my skeletal palm. “I am offering it freely for anyone to take up or deny. I make no demands, and merely wish to help. If you think you will have a better chance here, or out in the wilderness then please, take it.”

Silence returned once more, this time it didn't last nearly as long, with a taller, older pony stepping out in front.

“Could you leave us for a moment?” he asked.

I nodded. “Absolutely. Just give me a shout after you’ve had a chance to discuss things.”

I then had my servant walk away before anyone could respond, making my way just barely out of earshot. Laying down on the cold ground, I watched as they closed the doors to the throne room and vanished from sight. Left with little else to do I began to worry but quashed that relatively quickly.

There was nothing they could do to harm me, or my servant so the danger was minimal. Heck, the only real danger at this point was that they would turn my offer down and I would be left alone again. Still, that wasn't too bad of a possibility, as at least I had my woods, and a good deal of stuff to do.

Exploring more of the dragon’s skills, testing the limits of my new zone of control, and mapping the area. I knew from Zaxonis that the area I currently inhabited was called the Elden Lands, which had once been the cradle of civilizations. The old pony empires had emerged from this place, only to be quashed when a monumental blizzard buried them.

Their survivors fled and established new kingdoms, while their previous home slowly warmed back up. His knowledge was spotty concerning these developments, but I could recall that other races had colonies or city-states here as well. Or at least they did at one point, though how many of them remained was anyone’s guess given this place’s history.

It was a bit odd though, as I could only recall bits and pieces. History was, after all, a mix of facts, as well as assumptions and educated guesses. I only received skills and facts from those I consumed, but even that second thing was shaky at times.

Perhaps in time, I could learn to take a creature’s memories as well, but that wasn't a certainty. Still, it was something to muse over if nothing else, though I couldn't do so for long, as the doors opened once more. The elderly bat pony appeared once more, this time flanked by two, healthier-looking stallions.

“We have made a decision,” he proclaimed.

“Would you like to deliver it here, or should I reenter the room?” I offered.

“The room. We have questions we would like to ask,” he replied, trotting back into the throne room once more.

Though it felt a bit like I was walking back into an interrogation room, I continued on, head held high. Once inside I took the time to really look around, and inspect my new surroundings.

There I found that a great mound of pillows had been assembled where the throne had once been. This had likely served as the dragon’s bed given its large size, though at the moment it was being used by numerous ponies. With danger having finally passed, several had gone to sleep or were finally relaxing on the slightly musty bedding.

In the corner was a pile of loot that ranged from silverware to gold bars. How I had managed to miss this the first time was beyond me, as it was a good few feet high at the tallest point. Next to it were a few barrels, while on the other side of the room there was a small mountain of bones.

Judging from the fact that the ponies gave it a wide berth I could only assume that some of their number had ended up in there. My first urge was to test my new abilities by raising one or two new skeletons but I waited on that. I didn't exactly feel like startling my potential guests or desecrating their loved one’s bones, at least not without permission anyway.

The rest of the room was devoid of decoration, though I could tell there had likely been some at one point. Faded spots on the walls revealed that banners had likely hung from the ceiling, while smashed pedestals told that other trophies had once been displayed here. Now there were only blank walls, a pile of bones, pillows, and gathered valuables that could be found within.

“What exactly do you have to offer in the realm of food?” asked the elderly bat pony.

I focused on him a little closer, committing his description to detail. Tall, thin, wiry, he had a dark purple mane and tail, with eyes of brilliant gold. His tattoo, which I recalled was referred to as a cutie mark, was of an old-fashioned ink well pen dashing across a page.

“Before we continue, what is your name?” I inquired, sitting back down.

“Pen Stroke,” he replied.

“Well Pen Stroke, I have a veritable field of Pauper’s Dinner to offer,” I replied.

Several bat ponies groaned but were silenced by a fierce glare from Pen Stroke.

“That would at least alleviate starvation but do you have anything else?” he pressed.

“I have not had the chance to catalog all that grows within my grove and territory, but it was considerable,” I paused and wracked the deer’s skills for their names. “Pink Colwort, Giant Sorrel, Pamfons, Snakeberry, Ragweed, and Dragon’s Bite. Are the ones I’ve noticed though here are no doubt more.”

That got a few mouths salivating, and more than a few on board with my plan.

“Interesting,” Pen Stroke exclaimed. “And you mentioned you had accommodations?”

“To be honest it's just a cave, but it is illuminated by plenty of bioluminescent mushrooms, and it's warm,” I answered.

“Acceptable, but not ideal,” he muttered.

“I’d sleep in a pit of filth if it meant I did so without a growling belly,” someone offered.

That got a murmur of agreement from the group.

“I’m assuming your former… tormentor didn't exactly have a large stockpile of supplies?” I reasoned.

“No,” Pen Stroke replied with a frown. “He wanted to make sure that no one could steal any and run away.”

“Not like that stopped a few anyway,” remarked a rather crestfallen pony.

“I see,” I exclaimed. “Well, it seems as though your path is set then.”

I stood back up. “You should come back with me, or at least send an envoy to collect the food I offer. Then either return with it or remain in my lands until you’ve had a chance to recover a bit.”

“That does seem logical, but I am unwilling to risk everyone,” Pen Stroke reasoned.

“I would suggest sending a few of your numbers to return with me. I will gift them all the food they can carry, and if you like what I have to offer, then I would say you should return,” I continued. “After you’ve had a chance to rest and recuperate you can either continue on or return here if you so choose.”

“We were originally hoping to settle here,” Pen Stroke confided. “Before that bastard found us.”

“Then I believe you know what must be done,” I exclaimed, stepping forward. “Do you mind if I took a few of these rather pricey-looking items for myself?”

“Pardon my frankness, but what does a tre have need for gold?” Penstroke inquired.

“Me? Nothing,” I replied. “But it could entice some visitors, and it is rather lonely. Plus you never know what a trader may have. I would love to collect some rare seeds.”

“That is... Fair,” Pen Stroke coughed into a hoof and gestured to the pile. “Help yourself.”

“Most appreciated,” I exclaimed, bowing slightly with my hand over my heart.

I walked slowly over to the mound of loot and selected a few things from the pile after a few minutes of searching. Which included a bag of gems of various sizes and qualities, a bone chalice of rather disturbing design, a fur-trimmed cloak, a couple of books, a rod of some kind, as well as several scrolls kept within finely made glass tubes and stoppered with gems. There were other interesting things, but I chose to leave them for the ponies, much to their apparent shock.

“That's all your taking?” one of them asked.

“Would you like me to take more?” I replied.

“N-no,” he stuttered.

I tied the small bag of loot to a rib and walked back over to Pen Stroke, who had gathered a small group of volunteers. They were certainly an eclectic menagerie, though they were all at least healthy, save for one older mare. She was sickly and barely seemed able to walk, her fur having nearly lost all color leaving her resembling an albino.

“They will come with you,” Pen Stroke offered.

I counted only seven total, though they at least all had empty saddlebags, save for the older mare. I decided not to push matters, as I had already mentally decided that I would assist them in hauling food back. This was mainly just a trust exercise after all, so their comfort was the most important thing.

“Well then,” I began. “Follow me.”

Author's Note

A Woodland Hike

As we began the long descent out of the mountain, I took a moment to inspect my companions a little closer. The older mare had slightly tattered wings and small, beady red eyes that seemed permanently affixed at the exit. Her cutie mark was so faded and white that it could barely be seen, though I could tell it had at one point been a kite shield.

Her companions were equally as eclectic, though the two that interested me the most were a pair that stayed close together. The female looked angry, while her male companion just appeared sad, and stared at the floor almost constantly. Next to them walked a tall, slim thestral with a long mane and a cutie mark of a beaker that appeared to be on fire.

Walking between them and me in an almost protective manner was the largest bat pony I had seen so far. Standing a full head over his brethren, this stallion looked like he had seen a few fights in his day. Scarred, and with a cutie mark of two crossed swords sparking against one another, he would have looked intimidating to most.

I, however, was currently inhabiting the body of an enormous undead dragon that towered over them all. As such the guard thestral didn't bother me one iota, and I swiftly continued my inspection of his fellows. Starting with what looked like the only fat thestral out of the entire lot of them, her sides bulging somewhat.

A bent gold coin was emblazoned on her side, and she struggled to keep up but didn't complain. Then finally there was a short, rather diminutive young stallion with a gaunt, wiry frame that bellied a hidden strength. Upon his flank was an image of a piece of clay vaguely resembling a vase spinning on a potter’s wheel.

“So,” I began. “What are your names?”

The bat ponies looked to one another before reaching some silent agreement amongst themselves.

“I’m Crossed Swords, this is Cracked Wheel, and his wife White Iron,” the guard began, gesturing to the couple I had noticed earlier. “This young mare is Stalwart Steel.”

The sickly older mare chuckled and waved a hoof. “Oh stop it, you. I’m the oldest pony here.”

“This is Burning Beaker,” the guard continued, gesturing to the pony with a beaker on her flank before pointing at the round mare, and finally the short stallion. “Our resident merchant, Crooked Coin, and finally the potter, Fly Wheel.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” I greeted, continuing to chat as we walked across the long bridge. “Do you mind if I ask what you are all doing way out here?”

“We were fleeing the war,” Crossed Swords exclaimed. “Most are pacifists, others refugees, and some just don't have anywhere else to go.”

“Interesting,” I murmured. “And what about you?”

“I have, er had, someone important to protect,” Crossed Swords remarked. “Now I’m just doing what I can.”

“You are an honorable stallion for staying with them,” I praised. “This place is dangerous and without stoat protectors, your people will not survive.”

“Aye,” murmured the stallion, his brow creased with thought.

As we came to the top of the stairs, I held up a hand. “Pardon me, but would one or more of you like a ride down to the bottom. We have a long walk ahead of us if we intend on reaching my grove before nightfall.”

“Is it really that far?” Crossed Swords asked.

“For me and you? Absolutely not. For everyone else? Quite so,” I exclaimed.

Crossed Swords glanced to the two less physically adept amongst their rank and sighed. “If you two feel comfortable then feel free to take the offer.”

Though Crooked Coin seemed concerned and hesitant, Stalwart Steel was neither of those things.

“Just don't muss up my wings too much,” she declared. “They are already barely flight worthy as it is and I don't want to die ground-bound.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Crooked Coin whispered in a low tone.

“If this pile of bones wanted to kill us it would have already,” Stalwart barked.

“I’m a he, thank you very much,” I corrected. “I am not a thing.”

Stalwart stiffened but uttered no apology, only huffing silently.

I ignored what amounted to a microaggression and merely glanced expectantly at Crooked Coin. Who finally sighed, and looked up at me with a slightly embarrassed expression.

“Fine, just get it over with,” she muttered.

“As you wish,” I exclaimed.

As gently as I could, I picked up the two mares, cradling their undersides in my boney grip. Though they were a little startled by this, they didn't attempt to flee or demand I release them. Merely adjusting themselves until they were both if not happy, at least semi-comfortable in my hand.

“We shall meet you at the bottom,” I offered, glancing expectantly at Crossed Swords.

Who nodded. “Right, best wait for us there. We’ll glide down but it will take a while, air currents are a bit weird in here.”

With that, I began an awkward three-legged descent down to the bottom floor with two ponies in my hand. The two mares seemed rather put off by this, but thankfully they didn't do anything stupid. Furthermore, after a few minutes of walking down the many winding steps, they seemed to realize I wasn't going to kill them and relaxed.

“So…” I began again. “I do not recognize the affliction you are suffering from.”

“Not surprising,” Stalwart muttered. “Few survive a direct blast from the sun, and even fewer still end up sane enough or in few enough pieces to tell the tale.”

“The sun? I’m not sure I follow,” I remarked, rounding a bend and descending another flight of stairs.

“Celestia, the sun tyrant, what rock have you been living under?” Crooked Coin exclaimed, only to sigh. “Right, tree. You probably don't get many visitors.”

“If you don't count your former slave master then you seven shall be the first,” I remarked.

Stalwart cleared her throat, abruptly changing the subject. “Celestia controls the sun and can use it to attack us, calling down pillars of flame, or concentrated beams of plasma. My squad was caught beneath one such attack, and though we were able to get a shield up in time I was the only one who survived.”

“You are lucky,” I commented.

Stalwart snorted. “Hardly. Those who survive suffer from the white wasting. We lose all coloration, and even our cutie marks before finally going blind and deaf. After that it's not long before death follows, self-inflected or otherwise.”

“That's… horrible,” I muttered, my stolen medical knowledge coming up with nothing.

Stalwart raised an eyebrow at me curiously. “I woulda thought a carnivorous necromantic tree would have a tougher stomach than that.”

“My bark may be harder than wrought iron, but that does not mean the rest of me is,” I replied, pausing in order to maneuver around a crashed cart before preceding downwards once more.

“What about you?” I asked Crooked Coin. “How did you get involved with this merry band of refugees.”

“I uh…” Crooked Coin gulped. “Was scheduled to be executed before our mistress was defeated. After that order broke down, and no one really cared to carry out her final commands.”

“Oh how low we’ve fallen if even thieving cowards have a place in our ranks,” Stalwart muttered.

“I am no thief,” Crooked Coin hissed. “Our sovereign asked the impossible of me and when I failed, placed the blame on my head.”

“Excuses,” Stalwart spat.

“I cannot get blood from a stone, and nor can I produce funds from a people so poor they resort to eating grass,” Crooked hissed.

“Calm yourselves,” I interrupted, stopping at the bottom of the many stairs. “There is no need to raise one’s voice.”

Crooked Coin quickly stepped away from me after being placed on the ground. “Tell that to miss sanctimonious over there. She's the only one who still cares about that stupid war.”

“It was a just conflict,” Stalwart exclaimed through grit teeth. “We only desired for a land to call our own.”

“It was petty conflict between two sisters too stupid to talk it out,” Crooked Coin shot back.

I stomped my foot before Stalwart could reply, shocking them both out of their argument. Now staring up at me, the pair seemed ready to flee, until I made a long, sighing sound with my magic.

“Could you refrain from tearing one another apart until after we are done?” I asked.

“Err right,” Crooked Coin muttered.

Stalwart merely snorted bitterly and stood in silence.

We didn't have to wait long, as the rest of the bat ponies glided down to our level only a few seconds later. They looked concerned, though that quickly passed once they realized their comrades were okay. Crossed Swords seemed ready to ask what happened, but figured it out based solely on the two mare’s frowns.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Crossed Swords muttered. “When I heard that thump I thought for sure you’d killed ‘em.”

“No. If anything I stopped them from killing each other,” I replied.

“Let's just go already,” Stalwart muttered.

“After you,” I offered.

Together we began to trot or walk towards the exit, with me taking up the rear while the ponies were in front.

“May I ask why you are not flying there?” I inquired.

Crossed Swords grunted. “The winds above this forest are turbulent, and we won't be able to fly back while loaded down with food. Best to learn the lay of the land so we can make it back safe and sound.”

“Makes sense,” I concluded. “Though I am rather confused by Stalwart’s presence. No offence.”

“None taken,” Stalwart muttered. “And to answer your question it's cus I offered to stay behind and watch ya. Make sure this ain't all some kinda trick.”

“I will appreciate the company at least,” I exclaimed.

“So we’ll be the first visitors?” asked Burning Beaker. “I thought for sure you would have been forced to fight off a few patrols of Celestial soldiers. They are combing the area fairly frequently in search for Tall Order, and the other deserters.”

“Tall Order? You mean your leader?” I inquired.

“I wouldn't say that,” Crossed Swords remarked. “He used to be the head secretary to the princesses herself and was the one that organized this whole escape.”

“He hoped to create a colony away from prying eyes, where we could all be free,” Fly Wheel offered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Or escape being charged with any crimes against equinity,” someone muttered.

Burning Beaker winced. “I wasn't involved in any of that. I’m not even old enough to have had a hoof in altering our parents or grandparents into thestrals.”

“The war lasted that long?” I inquired.

“Forty three years,” Stalwart remarked. “Longest war Equestria has ever seen.”

“Both my father, and his mother before him fought under the lunar banner,” Crossed Swords mirthlessly declared.

“And what about you?” I asked, glancing down at the rather gaunt stallion walking close to my right. “What need does an army have for a potter?”

“That's not the only thing I do,” Fly Wheel muttered. “I know how to fix things, cook, and clean.”

“He was one of general Night Shadow’s pleasure stallions,” Stalwart barked.

Fly Wheel shrunk down even smaller, subtly putting Crossed Swords between himself and Stalwart.

“Fly Wheel is an important member of the logistics department and a friend,” Crossed Swords stated firmly.

I more or less sat out the rest of their discussion, merely observing and listening in on their conversation. They argued for a bit with Stlawart, though as her name implies, she did not give ground even after admitting she had been rude. It was a bit odd to see to be honest, as the way these ponies spoke made me think back to earth and all the brutality I had hoped to put behind me.

Though given my experiences upon arriving here I should have expected a good amount of cruelty. Still, it's hard not to hope that things are better as ponies don't exactly seem like the most vicious critters. As I continued to listen in I learned that was definitely not the case, especially when the talk turned to war crimes.

That particular avenue of discussion was shut down swiftly, and mercilessly by nearly everyone. Once it was gone, they were silent, even as the minutes began to turn to hours they didn't speak. At least not openly, as the married couple whispered amongst themselves and Stalwart occasionally remarked something to Crossed Swords.

I let them have their secrets, even if I could have easily picked up what they had said if I chose to. They posed no threat to me, and it seemed like a rude thing to do after they had been fairly trusting so far. That changed when evening had fallen, and we neared my territory, as the hushed conversation turned to gasps.

“What… what is that?” murmured Burning Beaker.

“What is what?” I asked. “You mean the forest?”

“It's so wild,” Burning Beaker murmured. “It's like a wall of vegetation.”

I looked around to find that yes the underbrush did grow thicker here, and to my companions, it would likely be impassable. To me, however, I couldn't help but spot the best most optimal solution for passing through it unimpeded.

“This marks the edge of my territory,” I declared. “Inside I am lord of all you see hear or touch. Though I would warn you to stay on the path. I cannot guarantee your safety otherwise.”

“Are there monsters?” asked Fly Wheel, the stallion all but clinging to Crossed Sword’s side.

“Just me,” I replied with a chuckle. “The dangers come more in the form of poisonous plants, and the like.”

“Just stick together, everyone,” Crossed Swords whispered.

Everyone did as he asked, even Stalwart, who shuffled awkwardly next to Fly Wheel.

“So where’s this path of yours?” Burning Beaker inquired.

“A moment,” I answered.

Raising my servant’s hand, I made a show of pulling back the curtain of vegetation and revealing the path. That seemed to get a fair bit of surprise, as well as a small amount of fear, though that mainly came from Fly Wheel. The others were more amazed and shocked by the bounty before them, their mouths watering at the sight.

Fruit-bearing trees could be spotted looming over bushes filled with berries everywhere they looked. Compared to the relatively sparse, and normal forest we had passed through, my home was a lush garden. Despite the hunger in their eyes, none strayed from the path and all followed close behind me as I began to walk.

“Remember to stay close,” I reminded.

The ponies despite their fear of my servant and by extension me, remained hot on my heels.

I watched their expressions closely, studying their reactions closely while we walked the path. Most were simply hungry, but Burning Beaker sported a particularly unique expression among her fellows. Curiosity burned hot in her eyes which strayed to non-fruit-bearing plants such as mushrooms and rarer flowers.

I was eager to pick her brain and ask what could be done with the many strange species under my banner. That would come with time, however, for now, I simply observed and waited, careful to ensure no one stepped in anything unpleasant. While that happened, I hid the deer skull, as well as the filly, putting them far out of sight. Thankfully this wasn't difficult, and I had ample time to make things look presentable before we finally arrived at our destination.

“Welcome, to my home,” I offered as I stepped into the open area. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

My draconic servant stepped aside, allowing the awe-struck ponies to gaze upon my domain. Their responses were rather typical, with their wonder being banished upon spotting my intimidating form at the back. That intimidation didn't remain for long, as there were many other sights to see, and a mission that they had yet to complete.

“Where is this cave and the pauper’s lunch mushrooms?” Stalwart demanded.

“Through there,” I pointed out, gesturing to the cave entrance. “I know it's blocked but if you give me a moment I can clear it for you.”

“In the meantime, I’m assuming we can get some water?” Crossed Swords asked, gesturing to the pond.

“It should be clean by now though the taste will likely not be pleasant,” I replied.

“We could always boil it,” Burning Beaker offered.

“No!” I immediately declared, only to step back. “I mean, no. I have no firewood and will not permit you to cut down any of the trees here.”

“Alright then,” Crossed Swords murmured. “Let's go get a drink.”

The group began to wander over to the pond, but I stopped the pair at the back.

“If you will permit me a moment. I would like to speak to you both in private,” I asked as patiently as I could muster.

“Us?” retorted Cracked Wheel in surprise.

“I’d rather not,” White Iron stated firmly.

“Look,” I began. “I know you came with for other reasons and that you do not like me, to say the least.”

“I’m not known for befriending trees,” White Iron muttered.

“What exactly are you accusing us of anyway?” Cracked Wheel demanded.

“I know you are searching for someone, which is why you volunteered,” I began. “Someone close to you.”

The pair looked at one another before glancing back at me.

“We’re listening,” White Iron declared.

Author's Note

Power Over Death

“Could you describe them for me?” I pressed, observing the pair as they looked curiously at one another.

The male was smaller, and thinner, with a narrow body, deep orangey yellow eyes, and fur the same shade of grey as the undead filly’s. His hair was wavey, and dangled down the side of his face, the color a mix of off-white, and light blue. Upon his flank was an image of a cracked wheel lying next to what looked like a repair hammer of some kind. A ragged and muddy workman’s jacket covered his front while his back was left open, unbothered by the lack of dignity granted to him.

“She is almost ten, a thestral like us, and is a bit short for her age,” White Iron began, her jaw clenched tight. “She has a bit of a lisp due to a fall when she was young.”

She was a bit taller, and wider than her husband, her wings twitching in barely contained energy as she spoke. Her eyes were much like her husband’s an off gold but more faded than his, resembling rust in a way. Her whitish-yellow hair reminded me of the inside of a creamsicle and was cut purposefully quite short so as to stay out of her eyes. Her fur was also unkempt but mostly hidden beneath what had likely been a blacksmith’s apron at one point.

Like her husband, White Iron’s clothing was in disrepair, though she wore a pair of heavy pants with a cut on the side. This opening revealed her cutie mark which was of an iron poker glowing white-hot over an open flame. The conclusion was obvious to me, she had been a blacksmith while her husband was a wheelwright or repairman of some kind.

“Her name is Rainy Day,” Cracked Wheel continued. “Her cutie mark is of a raining cloud with little lightning bolts coming from it.”

Cracked Wheel seemed ready to cry, but White Iron swiftly moved in and nuzzled his cheek, calming the male.

“Anything else you could tell me?” I asked, realization having already dawned. “Like coloration and whatnot?”

“Her mane was a mix of two different shades of blue, her fur was grey, as were her eyes,” White Iron whispered. “Why do you ask all this?”

I hesitated a moment before remembering that I was trying to befriend these creatures and that friendship began with honesty. So I reluctantly recalled the filly from the bush she had been hiding in, positioning her just out of sight for the moment.

“I ask all this as I may have found her, but-” I held up a claw. “I have bad news.”

“You killed her didn't you,” White Iron muttered through grit teeth.

“I did not. I’m afraid she likely starved to death,” I explained. “I found her floating in the pool you see before you, though fret not I’ve since cleansed the waters so you needn't worry about that.”

“You… found her?” Cracked Wheel whispered.

“It killed her,” White Iron shot back.

Cracked Wheel stepped forward, ignoring his wife’s furious gaze. “Then where is she? You didn't…”

“I did,” I admitted. “At the time I did not know that you equines were sapient, and as her body was the only thing close enough I brought her back, in a sense.”

“Show me,” Cracked Wheel demanded.

“Are you sure that's a good idea honey?” White Iron whispered.

“I need to see her,” Cracked Wheel declared.

I looked down at the male with pity, noting that he was about a second away from sobbing. Despite that, he maintained the illusion of strength and continued to keep his shoulders squared.

“As you wish,” I exclaimed.

I turned and glanced over to the bush that had hidden the zombified child, who stepped out a second later. The two parents gasped, and sure enough, Cracked Wheel began to sob, though he stayed standing. White Iron’s anger melted immediately, and she stumbled over to the undead filly, grasping the undead’s shoulders.

“Stars above. It's really you,” she muttered.

Cracked Wheel followed a second later, holding the zombified filly tightly while joining his wife in tears. I meanwhile, did my best to allow them their moment, though this was difficult given that I was still inhabiting their undead child. The quiet didn't last long, and I cut it off myself when White Iron began to grow angry, her muscles tensing.

“If you would like. I could bury her here, or you could take her back for whatever funerary rites your people have,” I offered.

That seemed to deflate White Iron’s fury before it could fully manifest. “You wouldn't attempt to keep her?” she asked.

“She is your child. I may have risen her on instinct and out of desperation but at this point her service is hardly needed,” I explained, attempting to sound cold and detached.

“We should cremate her,” Cracked Wheel murmured, releasing his hold on the undead foal. “I’m sure Fly Wheel could make us an urn or something.”

“No,” White Iron muttered.

“No?” Cracked Wheel asked.

White Iron turned and glared up at me with a furious gaze. “You can bring people back from the dead, bring her back to us.”

I blanked for a moment, the sheer fury in her eyes giving me pause to consider my options.

“I’m afraid it doesn't work that way,” I began. “I can raise either zombies or skeletons. Mindless undead that maintain no facsimile of who they once were.”

“I don't care about your excuses!” White Iron shouted. “Give me back my daughter!”

I mimicked a sigh and hung my head low. “True resurrection is impossible. Even Zaxonis did not know how to accomplish such a feat.”

“Honey relax. He can't do it,” Cracked Wheel whispered.

Hot burning tears ran down White Iron’s face, and she stomped her hooves angrily. “No, no, no! She is all we have left, all that we brought with us from the old world. We can't just let her go!”

“But dear-”

“Don't but dear me,” White Iron hissed. “You remember what the doctors said, I can't have any more foals. She was our only chance!”

I noticed that the other bat ponies were beginning to grow curious about our little private conversation. With a hand I shooed them away, placing a finger against the front of my snout in order to urge some quiet for the moment. I then turned back to the arguing couple and found that they had quite forgotten about me during their conversation.

I wanted to intervene, to tell them that it was impossible, but I started to think… is it truly?

Bringing someone back from the dead was indeed impossible, but there were spells to bring back memories. Combine that with a bit of free will, some revitalization, some ingenuity, and though not truly alive, part of her would return. The spirit was still bound to the body, though the person that spirit belonged to wasn't trapped within though.

It is difficult to explain in lamen’s terms but from the knowledge stolen from the dragon, I recalled that ghoultrees functioned differently. Normal necromancy was indeed quite horrible, as the person returned fully sapient but trapped and enslaved to the person who raised them. Made a prisoner in their own flesh, they were bound to do everything ordered of them no matter their own will.

Which were utterly supplanted by the necromancer, whose domination was so complete that freedom was impossible. Upon the death of the person who raised them, the zombified individual would simply perish a second time. But ghoultrees did not obey these rules, for reasons that weren't wholly known, though I assumed there was some theorizing on the reason.

Regardless of why my former foe recalled that ghoultrees pushed a part of their own spirit into the host. We then puppeted the creation by loosely binding the soul to the body it had once inhabited. The dead entity existed in a sort of limbo, where it experienced nothing at all until it died a second time and came loose.

From there, things got extra muddy, as there didn't seem to be any clear-cut facts on the afterlife. Which was a bit disappointing, as I had hoped there would be gods or some definitive answer to humanity’s oldest question. Regardless of what happened after their second death, the ghoultree did not dominate the creature by subjecting the soul. Rather we tricked the body into thinking the spirit was attached so that we may enslave the body and use it as we willed.

This opened up many possibilities, and a good deal of curiosity from myself, who began going through my newly acquired spells. False life could make an undead seem alive in the sense that it no longer stunk, and would give some color back to the creature. Combined with a few preservation spells and a bit of grooming, the filly would look like they were alive.

It would just be my piloting it though, and they wouldn't truly be alive even in the loosest of senses.

“Are you listening?” demanded a voice.

I looked down to find the couple looking or glaring up at me.

“Apologies,” I remarked. “I was just thinking about the spells Zaxonis knew.”

“And?” White Iron demanded.

“And he didn't know how to bring someone back either,” I held up a boney finger. “Though there is a possibility that I could bring her back in a sense.”

“In a sense? What does that mean?” White Iron pressed.

“She wouldn't strictly speaking, be alive,” I continued. “Though I could return her mind to her.”

The pair exchanged a look.

“So what does that mean exactly?” Cracked Wheel inquired.

“She would have free will, and her memories but she would still be in essence a zombie,” I concluded. “I’m not totally certain if it would work mind you, but it is possible though I’d need your permission before I attempted it.”

“I don't know about this,” Cracked Wheel muttered.

“Do it,” White Iron stated.

“But honey, she would still be… this,” Cracked Wheel exclaimed, gesturing to the rotting corpse of their daughter.

“I would be able to at least make her appear alive,” I interjected. “Though it wouldn't be perfect.”

“I don't care,” White Iron declared. “Do it.”

“Alright then, but it will take a while,” I replied.

“Then we should gather the supplies in the meantime,” Cracked Wheel reasoned.

White Iron seemed ready to press the issue, but ultimately decided against it and walked away.

I joined her a moment later, my draconic servant walking over to the collapsed cave entrance while my main body shifted. My roots churned, and I felt for the underground passage, judging how I should go about it using my new senses. I could feel that it would require a bit of reinforcement, but it wasn't like I had a bunch of timber kicking around.

So before the ponies questioned why I had promised them something trapped behind a barrier I began to move. First I channeled a mere speck of my incredible reserves into extending my roots into the rock wall itself. This was surprisingly easy, as the long fibrous growths tunneled through stone as if it were just dirt.

It took a few minutes of intense focus, but in the end, the top and bottom of the cave were completely covered in roots. A few subtle shifts put the ceiling back into a more stable position so I wasn't forced to hold it up constantly. With that done, I walked forward with my draconic servant and began to clear the rocks, placing them in a pile.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do with them at the moment, but I at least had enough space that they weren't in the way. After a few minutes of clearing them, I was able to see further inside, and it wasn't long before the ponies could enter. It wasn't perfect mind you, but the thing wasn't seconds from collapsing, nor was it a struggle to get inside.

“If you all go inside, you’ll find that they are in the patch closest to the entrance,” I began. “Though I would advise you to be careful and not go deeper. Heart Seeker mushrooms grow in abundance further in.”

“I’ll check it out,” offered Crossed Swords, who stepped inside and appeared a minute later. “It's clear, grab the bags.”

The ponies, save for Stalwart, all piled inside, with the married couple lingering for a moment and giving me a look. They didn't stay back for long though, and soon they too were inside, gathering mushrooms. Stalwart sat on a rock near the entrance, staring at my draconic servant intently while I made my way back over to the filly.

Ignoring the former soldier’s gaze, I focused on my magic and delved into the depths of my stolen information. I had a working theory, but only having one’s skills without memories were odd, to say the least. Opinions, theories, and assumptions built out our knowledge base in a way that pure facts couldn't replicate.

I could know a recipe, but I didn't know what it tasted like. I knew how to gather a plant but I knew not how it smelled. The interactions between magic were also mostly untested. The more spells layered the more complicated it became, and soon it was completely unique.

That kind of expertise could not be taught and needed to be judged on a case-by-case basis. Something that I could not steal from my foes, no matter how hard I tried. Which meant I needed to learn and apply myself without leaning on what I had taken from the dragon.

I wasn't completely on my own, but I did have to think things through in a way I had yet to do before. I had time though, so as the ponies gathered their food, I worked, intertwining spells and testing various theories. It took a considerable amount of time, until nightfall actually, but I had come up with something that felt right.

“Right then,” I muttered. “Now I just need to breathe the last bit of magic, and the dominoes will fall into place.”

I observed the placid undead figure before me, their body now almost lifelike in appearance. Their fur had recovered its color, they were not cold, nor did they smell, but the eyes remained empty. Those twin voids refused to return to what they had in life, so I ignored it, for now, setting that aside for later.

“I hope this works,” I muttered to myself before cutting the ventriloquism spell.

I needed as few conflicting magical signatures as possible and thankfully the ponies couldn't cast spells. They could physically do so, but I had learned that none had the aptitude for such a thing. Which was very good, as this was by far the most complicated series of enchantments that I had ever tried.

Here goes. I thought to myself. For real this time.

I ‘exhaled’ the dragon’s magic, infusing it into the filly, and setting off the chain reaction I had set into place. Her body quaked, half-rotten muscles twitching while her wings flapped randomly at her sides. It resembled a sort of seizure, but I wasn't doing it, and in fact, my control had receded somewhat.

I could still puppet it if I wanted to, but there was another hand on the controls that was now asserting itself. Then the filly collapsed, her entire form going completely lax as if my puppet had her strings cut. For a moment I wondered if I had screwed up, but then I heard, and felt another mind brush against my own.

She was confused, and panic-stricken, her eyes snapping open. “Wh-where am I?” she whispered.

I yanked back a bit of control, pushing down her panic, and forcing her to become calm. I didn't want to do so, but her emotions were very powerful and were even making me feel a little unpleasant.

“You are safe,” I rumbled, reactivating the ventriloquism spell. “You are okay, and your parents are nearby.”

“I… I’m okay,” she murmured, sitting upright and blinking owlishly at me. “You look like that evil thing but I know your not him. I can hear you in my head, feel you inside me.”

I really didn't like that word choice, but thankfully there was no one in earshot at the moment.

“Yes. I brought you back,” I explained. “You died.”

“Oh,” murmured the child. “But I’m alive again?”

“Sort of,” I began. “It's a bit complicated.”

“Thank you, mister. I’m really glad you did that but I also really want to see my mommy and daddy,” she whispered guiltily, leaning to her right and trying to look past me. “Can I go see them?”

“I’ll call them over,” I declared.

Turning around, I noticed that the ponies had gathered near the entrance to the cave, with the married couple at their head. The second their eyes met the quite bright ones of their semi-living child, they broke out into a sprint. Rainy Day met their enthusiasm and ran as well, meeting them at the halfway point with open forelegs.

They embraced tightly, sobbing into each other’s coats and holding the undead filly in their forelegs. I walked up shortly after but kept a respectable distance, waiting for the moment to play itself out. It took a few minutes, but they seemed to recover enough to talk, with the couple looking inquisitively up at me.

“Your not just pretending to be her?” White Iron asked.

“Ask her yourself,” I replied. “I cannot absorb memories, and she should have all of hers back.”

That was partially a lie, as I could feel the filly’s mind like I would any other of my servants. Which meant that I had full, unfettered access to every last part of her being, including her returned memories. I chose not to push that however, as she was a child so it would be rude, plus she likely didn't know anything useful anyway.

I resolved to simply talk with her at a later date and request the information without having to pry.

Cracked Wheel knelt before the child. “Okay honey I need to ask you a few questions now.”

“Okay daddy,” Rainy Day replied.

“What was the color of your favorite ball when you were younger?” he pressed.

“Blue,” she replied immediately. “It was lumpy because some meany stepped on it and it didn't inflate right anymore.”

“It's her,” Cracked Wheel murmured.

“Wait a second,” White Iron interrupted. “What was the last thing you said to me before you ran away?”

“Before I escaped?” Rainy Day scratched her head. “I think I asked you about what flowers you can eat out in the forest.”

White Iron blinked. “That's correct. But why would you leave without saying goodbye?”

“I didn't mean to,” Rainy Days whispered. “I just got left alone and wanted to go get lady Luna to save everyone.”

Okay, that was adorable and seemed to be exactly what the pair expected as they embraced the filly and had a second tearful reunion even more touching than the first.

“Did ya really do it?” Stalwart asked, the mare having plunked down beside me.

“Sort of,” I admitted. “I could not free her from my control without killing her a second time. Rainy Day is tied to me until she dies again, but her spirit and memories are in there.”

Stalwart snorted. “Some may think it cruel, but it's nothing compared to some of the things I’ve seen. Just don't go tugging on her strings, got it?”

“I don't intend on it,” I replied. “She is a foal and has little value to me save in a diplomatic function. So it would behoove me to give her free will, and to not infringe on it.”

“You're a cold one, ain'tcha?” Stalwart asked, her voice carrying no judgment.

“I don't process emotion like animals do,” I mused. “I feel as you do, don't get me wrong but it is muted and different. I don't think I can really explain it to someone so different.”

“I think I get you,” Stalwart remarked. “I knew a couple of commanders and more than a few generals who were colder than the stars above. So compared to them, you’re as warm as a summer day.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

Stalwart snorted. “It wasn't a compliment.”

She then trotted away, leaving me to muse over what she had said. I quickly tossed aside such thoughts, however, as I felt something shift far beneath us. The ponies could not feel it, but I sensed that whoever was tunneling upward was reaching the surface.

I was about to send the handful of bugs I had managed to resurrect, but was stopped when I noticed the deer skull light up. Its antlers shimmered a soft blue coloration for a moment before returning to their normal shade a second later. I immediately began casting a scanning spell, but I knew it would come up with nothing as it had already faded.

Leaving me confused, and more than a little put off by the entire thing.

I had guests in the form of bat ponies, and would likely be receiving more from below. Who knew what shape they took. What I did know was that I was likely to meet more deer fairly soon, if the sudden light show was any indicator.

Whatever search party they had sent out was no doubt on their way here, compiling my list of problems considerably.

“Never a dull moment,” I muttered to myself.

Author's Note

Rising From Below

The bat ponies stayed up late searching for food to add to their bounty of Pauper’s Lunch mushrooms. I had to make sure they were cognizant of the hazards and remained nearby, but in the end, they had acquired a good amount of supplies. I mostly used Rainy Day for this, simply gifting the filly the knowledge needed before sending her off.

Her parents were a little worried, but in the end, the filly was dead and unaffected by poisons or toxins. So it was that she led the way through my domain, pointing out obstacles and what fruit I knew of already. Thankfully this information was supplemented by Burning Beaker who seemed to know far more than she let on.

Sure she knew about what was good to eat, but she also remembered the name of many poisonous or magical plants. All of which, I realized, had mutagenic properties, or could be altered to gain these characteristics with little effort. It was obvious that no one else had the training necessary to know this, so her secret was safe, or so she thought.

I chose not to bring it up at the moment, however, as we had bigger concerns at the moment. That and I simply didn't wish to ruffle any feathers, not when I was making positive inroads with the bat ponies. Who had more or less warmed up to me by this point, or at least as much as one could warm up to a giant necromantic tree.

They weren't guarded, so I was counting that as a win, Rainy Day, however, was adopted by the group. The filly went from a curiosity and a source of fear to a beloved mascot or something close to one anyway. I encouraged this and stayed far away from her for that first night, merely allowing her to be a kid again.

Her parents remained slightly distant but again, that melted away as the sun set and the moon reluctantly replaced it in the sky. The others were not quite so easy to read, like Stalwart, though I did catch her staring at me with a contemplative look, I didn't know if that was a good thing, however.

Crossed Swords was quiet for the majority of the time, but when he did speak he seemed to only be half paying attention. Distant, and unfocused, he seemed to be contemplating something and not giving the conversation much mind. Unlike Burning Beaker who was intensely fascinated by me and almost everything that called my grove home.

She also seemed annoyed that she would be returning home soon and showed great interest in remaining behind. Stalwart was determined to be the only one to stay, however, no matter my opinion on the matter. Not like I minded, she may be gruff, and irritable, but she was company, and I wasn't about to turn her away.

Her presence here would help build trust, even if she grated on everyone’s nerves almost constantly.

Most notably Crooked Coin, who Stalwart insulted, or otherwise put down as often as she could muster. Thankfully a sharp rebuke from Crossed Swords was enough to shut that down for the remainder of the night. It would start again in the morning, but for the moment there was no longer any arguing amongst the group. Crooked Coin rather enjoyed herself, even if she was winded easily, and required more breaks than most. It was nice to see the mare work, as she clearly liked the simple, repetitive tasks given to her.

Fly Wheel was perhaps the easiest and at the same time, most difficult to read of the bunch. He wore his heart on his sleeve, but also rarely spoke to anyone save for Crossed Swords. Who he lingered near almost constantly, either for protection or out of some other desire I couldn't be certain. Either way Crossed Swords kept a certain distance between them, for whatever personal reason that may be.

I mostly kept to myself while they worked, assisting wherever needed, and generally looking after them without getting overly involved. I made the excuse that I was watching for more patrols, but I hadn't seen any in some time by that point. Rather I was keeping a closer eye on the underground, while also encouraging small creatures to make my grove their home.

This was hard, but I had already enticed a few groups to move into the area already so I was certain it could work. I also told myself that I would only take those that died of natural causes from here on out. Animals perished all the time, and I really only needed them to reinforce my spy network and improve my visibility of the area.

Two things that I could use, but not overly so, as I at least had a good number of insects to replace them. Unlike animals, insects perished in droves, with some having life spans in the hours, rather than the years. Their tiny eyes had created a loose surveillance system focused on monitoring the edge of my territory, and that was enough for now.

With the moon reaching its zenith, the ponies turned in, laying down in specially grown beds of moss I set aside for them. They seemed to enjoy these resting spots and soon drifted off to sleep, all save for the couple, who spoke with their child at length. Eventually, even they required sleep and reluctantly parted, with Rainy Day leaving them behind.

The filly glumly walked over to me, unbothered by the undead dragon I had coiled around me. She didn't even hesitate to hop up and into the small nook that I had been using to store her up until that point. Only once she had begun to relax did she seem willing to talk, laying her chin on the edge of the hole and peering out.

“I won't grow up or anything, will I?” she whispered.

“You will not physically age, but you will mentally do so,” I replied, using a softer version of the dragon’s voice created by the ventriloquist spell. “You should not worry about this too much. I’m sure in time we will find a way to make you appear older if you wish it.”

Rainy Day seemed to think of this for a moment before sighing. “Mom and dad were sad that I wouldn't get bigger, but it didn't really bother me. I just don't like seeing them frown.”

“You’ll change your mind as you get older,” I reasoned.

“Maybe,” Rainy Day admitted.

“Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” I inquired.

“Um kind of,” she murmured. “But it's sorta weird.”

“Go on. It's just us now,” I encouraged.

“What uh… what are we?” The filly tapped her forehooves together. “I know you’re not my mom or dad, but like, I can feel you inside of me and-”

“Can we stop saying it like that,” I interrupted. “People are going to start getting weird ideas.”

“Uh okay,” she agreed, clearly not understanding. “So anyway. We are connected and stuff, but like. We aren't related or anything. You're a tree. Don't get me wrong, you're a cool tree but still a tree.”

“Just call me… Uncle Xathrid,” I offered after a moment of thought. “Others may think that I am your master or something along those lines, but I don't want you to feel that way. Our relationship is not one of slave and owner, but just… friends who help each other.”

Rainy Day was quiet for a long time, her forehooves dangling out of the hole while she frowned. Then, after a long time spent staring off into the distance, she nodded to herself, her mind seemingly made up.

“Okay Uncle Xathrid,” Rainy Day declared. “Can I still go live with mommy and daddy right away?”

“Let's hold back a bit on that one,” I warned. “Not everyone is going to be as accepting as your parents and I don't want you to get hurt.”

The filly seemed conflicted, with one part of her wanting to rebuke me while the other agreed with me. I knew this was a conversation she had with her own parents, who were similarly divided on this topic. With me offering an outside opinion, I had weighed the scales in my favor, and sure enough, Rainy Day curled up inside the hallow.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“You’ll be able to go back soon,” I exclaimed. “I promise.”

“Kay,” she repeated before closing her eyes.

I knew the undead didn't truly need to sleep, which was why I was so surprised when Rainy Day did just that. Sure enough, I could still feel her mind within my network, but it was muted and distant, yet oddly familiar. I quickly reasoned that she had entered the same trancelike state that I went into when I was conserving energy. How she had done this without trying was unknown to me, but it wasn't too far-fetched to imagine she simply picked it up without thinking.

Either way, I joined her soon after, even if I had enough reserves to last me several weeks at this point. It was a nice change of pace, and it gave whatever thinking organ I had a chance to relax after all that emotional labor I had done. As I rested, time passed quickly, with the sun rising in what felt like minutes, though in reality, it had been hours.

The ponies would have been roused by the bright morning rays, had they not been covered by a nearby tree. Who had grown out one of their branches extra long just to keep the small group in shade until almost noon. I silently thanked the tree in question and sent over a small amount of nutrients, a notion it seemed to appreciate. I was also beginning to feel out the sex of various trees, though notions of gender and the like were lost on my leafy neighbors.

When my company did begin to rise they did so slowly, and lethargically, struggling to get out of their moss beds. They seemed satisfied, and rested, so much so that they struggled to wake up fully. Even the ever grumpy Stalwart had nothing mean to say and merely sat there, smacking her lips while looking around.

“Wake up,” I whispered into the hollow near the base of my trunk. “Rainy Day, wake up.”

The pony groaned and flopped her top half outside of my trunk. “Augh do I have to? I was having such a good dream.”

“Dream?” I pushed that thought away for the moment. “Nevermind. You need to go help your parents get up and finish their chores. They’ll want to return to the castle as soon as possible.”

“I can at least travel back with them, right?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” I answered.

“Okay, good,” she murmured.

The filly then hopped down and began to trot over to her family, joining the pair as they lethargically trundled over to the pond. Soon enough they had filled their bellies and were back at it again, or at least most of them were. Crooked Coin, Burning Beaker, and Crossed Swords approached me, while the others milled about the area.

“Hey uh, Xathrid,” Crossed Swords greeted. “I just wanted to let you know that these two were going to check a little further into the cave. Coin here noticed that there might be a vein of precious metals near the back and wanted to check it out.”

“If that's alright with you, of course,” Crooked Coin exclaimed.

Inhabiting my draconic servant, I raised my head and nodded. “Of course. If there is something, I would be open to taking a cut of the profits, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Yes. For now, let's just find out if something is there at all,” Crossed Swords offered.

“Fair enough. Go ahead,” I offered, arm extended. “It should be safe. I didn't detect anything in there but I also don't have enough animals to watch it as well.”

“Oh wonderful,” Beaker exclaimed. “If this is what you say it is then it will help our situation significantly.”

“Let us hope so,” Crooked Coin declared.

Together the two mares trotted off into the cave, neither requiring a torch to see in the dark. Which was nice, because I had grown quite adverse to fire at this point, so much so that the thought made me feel unpleasant.

“So,” I began, glancing down at Crossed Swords. “You have been distant.”

“I have,” Crossed Swords agreed somewhat reluctantly. “I’ve had a lot on my mind recently.”

“A penny for your thoughts,” I offered.

The stallion’s jaw clenched, and for a moment I thought he was going to rebuke me for prying. Then he sighed, and his shoulders fell slack as anxiety bled off his body in a great wave.

“My husband,” he whispered. “That bastard ate him.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, this must be terribly uncomfortable for you. Allow me to find something else to speak through,” I offered, quickly pulling the dragon skeleton away.

“No. It's fine,” Crossed Swords interrupted. “Call me morbid, but it's kinda nice to be reminded that the sun-cursed monster that killed my stallion died horribly.”

I remained quiet, giving the stallion time to recover and think of what to say.

“He always made sure to spit up the bones of his victims,” Crossed Swords continued. “Kept them as grim trophies in the corner of the throne room as you might have already seen.”

“I did, yes,” I admitted.

“Well, I was thinking… I know he's gone, and that he wouldn't want to be one of your puppets, no offense, but I think he’d still want to say goodbye,” Crossed Swords finally stated.

I thought about it for a moment before nodding. “I could give you that, though I would need the remains to be placed near me. Raising something that far away is possible, but would drain me considerably more than if they were close by.”

“I’ll talk to the others who lost someone,” Crossed Swords stated, the stallion tapping his chin. “There are some who wouldn't mind joining your little army provided that doing so helped the living, but at the bare minimum we could all get a bit of closure.”

“That sounds-” I paused, my dragon’s head-turning towards the cave entrance. “What is that?”

A scream came spilling from the cave, and I immediately cursed my lack of foresight. I had assumed that my ability to detect any rumblings from further in would be enough, but that was clearly not the case. My mind immediately formulated a plan, summoning forth what few creatures were small enough to enter the mines.

“That sounded like Fly Wheel,” Crossed Swords declared. “I’m going in.”

“Stay behind my servants, use them as shields,” I offered.

“Right,” Crossed Swords muttered.

By then I had gathered a small number of mice, some lizards, and a couple of rather large toads. This motley assortment of undead charged into the cave, making a beeline for the back and pausing only briefly. Using the toad’s cavernous mouth, I grabbed a heatseeker mushroom before continuing on.

Rounding a narrow bend, I found Crooked Coin, and Fly engaged in a desperate melee with what looked like bipedal dogs. Though armed only with knives and a club, the strange, ape-like canines were attempting to pull the ponies deeper into the mines. An act which was resisted fiercely, with Crooked Coin hanging on to a stalactite while Fly Wheel screamed and thrashed like a demon.

The demure stallion fought like he was possessed, biting, kicking, all while yelling incoherently at the top of his lungs. He was losing but was literally taking chunks out of his attackers on top of slowing them down.

“Make it shut up already,” hissed one of them.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” yelled another.

“Come on fat pony. Let go! We have sweets!” added a third.

“Look, more ponies, and… little animals?” pointed out the first one.

Their confusion was short-lived, as it quickly morphed into terror when the first mouse buried its sharp teeth into the closest dog creature. Who was a rather short, poorly clothed, rotund fellow that had been attempting to drag Crooked Coin away. Upon getting a chunk bitten out of his foot, the dog creature cried out in pain and released his grip on the thestral.

Who quickly sprinted away with tears in her eyes, the pony not looking back for even a second. I soon overwhelmed this first dog thing with rodents of various sizes, each one of whom bit or clawed at their foe. The dog tried to stab the creatures, and though he hit his target, the lizard was undead and didn't mind having a piece of metal jammed in its ribs.

“Get it off, get it off!” cried the dog.

“Get up, Rover. Don't you see there is another pony. If we capture this one too we can all go free!” shouted the tallest, and most angular out of the three.

“Come on, stop fighting. We just want to take you back to our- ow!” cried the one with the broadest set of shoulders. “It bit my pinky off!”

“That's it, no more mister nice dog,” muttered the tall one.

I saw what was coming relatively quickly, but there was little I could do to stop it. Crossed Swords had just knocked out the short, fat dog and was distracted for the moment. Leaving me with nothing to do but watch as the tall dog grabbed its dagger, and then Fly Wheel. In a swift movement, it placed the weapon to the pony’s throat and stood tall.

“Call off your freaky little animals or this one gets it,” he barked.

“But Spot, they won't let us go free if they are dead,” whispered the strongest of the trio.

“Shut up. I know that!” yelled the other dog.

“What are you talking about, going free? You're the slavers here,” Crossed Swords shouted.

“We are not!” screeched Spot, who tugged at the thick iron collar bearing a sun emblem he and the others all wore. “The vile sun enslaved our clan, and forces us to dig! But if we catch one of these leather ponies we get to go free!”

“I am a thestral, not a leather pony!” Fly Wheel yelled.

“I don't care what- ow!” Spot released his hold on Fly Wheel, blood flowing out of the twin holes in his forearm. “Quick catch it!”

“No time, we gotta go!” the other dog yelled.

“Surrender now and we’ll spare you!” Crossed Swords shouted.

I didn't wait for a response, and charged after them with my army of small animals, Crossed Swords close behind. Unfortunately for us, the dogs were simply too fast, the creatures naturally well adapted to moving through the winding tunnels. Their loping, awkward gait gave them a weird advantage down here, allowing them to put a lot of distance between us in a short time.

Still, I was determined to keep up the chase, hoping to catch them after they grew tired. The blood trail was easy to follow after all, so it wasn't like I was about to lose them anytime soon.

“Were through, collapse it!” shouted Spot.

A second later and I heard a distant rumble that shook the earth. Crossed Swords paused where he stood, but I continued around the bend, where I beheld a collapsed section of the tunnel. The pair had escaped and though I could clear it, by the time I did, they’d likely be long gone.

“Dammit,” Crossed Swords muttered. “What now?”

I didn't respond verbally, merely hopping my way back to the unconscious dog left behind by his peers. By the time I got there, Rainy Days stood over him, with Fly Wheel resting nearby, the bat pony breathing heavily. I used our connection to quickly fill Rainy in on what had happened, resulting in the filly becoming nervous, but still doing her best to act brave.

Crossed Swords appeared a moment later and placed a hoof over the downed dog’s mouth. “Ahh, good, he's still breathing. I was worrying that I may have hit him too hard. What now?”

Rainy Day frowned. “Now we get some answers.”

Author's Note

An Unwilling Pawn

“Maybe we should leave this to the adults,” Crossed Swords offered.

I agree. You don't need to see this Rainy. Rejoin your family, and we’ll interrogate him outside. I added, sending my thoughts directly into the young pony’s mind.

“But I wanna help,” Rainy Days declared.

“Then help Fly Wheel,” Crossed Swords exclaimed, gesturing to the stallion.

“I could use some water, and a hoof,” offered the downed male.

“Okay!” Rainy Days happily declared, pulling the stallion from the ground.

“Woah you are strong,” Fly Wheel murmured.

“That's because I eat all my greens,” Rainy Days exclaimed.

“Err yeah. That's probably it,” Fly Wheel murmured.

Together the thankfully uninjured stallion and his filly assistant departed, meeting her parents halfway down. Through a little concerned for their child, they swiftly moved to help Fly Wheel away, while Crossed Swords hefted the dog onto his back. I kept my small swarm hovering nearby, ready to jump at the moment I noticed that he was waking up.

Thankfully that didn't happen and soon we were outside once more, with the sun sitting high overhead. My draconic servant was waiting, as were the rest of the bat ponies, including a concerned-looking Stalwart Steel. The mare appraised our captive and shook her head, a spark of recognition igniting in the pony’s old eyes.

“Damn shame,” she murmured.

“Do you know what's going on?” I pressed.

Stalwart grunted and gestured to the dog. “These poor bastards were mostly neutral in the war, and though we largely ignored them, the tyrant took offense to their neutrality. She hunted and enslaved them, claiming they were working to undermine Equestria at Luna’s request.”

“That explains the garish collar,” I murmured.

“He was saying something about if he caught one of us he could go free. That's new,” Crossed Swords remarked.

“Probably a lie,” Stalwart declared.

“Regardless, what do we do?” Cracked Wheel asked.

“We get some answers,” I exclaimed.

My statement was punctuated by a water skin being dumped on the dog’s head. I expected him to jump up, and ask what was going on, only that didn't happen. He just kept laying there, inert, but still breathing at least.

“Uh, do it again?” someone offered.

Another pony dumped their water supply on his head, to no effect other than making the dog wet. Which elicited a less than pleasant smell to waft across from the bloody and now muddy dog. Burning Beaker stepped up to the plate and smacked the dog twice across the face, only to get the same result as before.

“Do we have any smelling salts?” she asked.

“I could make some, but it would take time,” I replied.

“Just tie the dumb bastard up and get the food back to the others,” Stalwart barked, the mare limping over to the group, a scowl remaining on her face. “Any longer and they’re going to start panicking again.”

“R-right,” Burning Beaker murmured.

Crossed Swords stepped up. “Right, gather the supplies. I’ll tie up our visitor, and Stalwart here will make sure he doesn't run off without us noticing.”

The old guard pony grunted, settling down on a nearby rock.

Everyone else placed their bags on their back and rounded up what loose goods they had forgotten to pack. Within only a few minutes they had assembled near the edge of the grove, and though I wanted to go with them, I was conflicted. My first responsibility was to the grove, and to defend it, but I also wished to extend the same to the thestrals.

“Rainy,” I whispered. “I have an important job for you.”

“What is it uncle Xathrid?” she replied, looking up at my draconic avatar.

“There is a chance that these diamond dogs are scouting the others, and I need you to check up on them. Could you fetch your parents?” I pressed.

Rainy Days nodded dutifully before trotting away, returning a few seconds later with her parents.

“What's this about a job?” Cracked Wheel asked.

“I just need Rainy to go with you and act as my eyes and ears, that's it,” I quickly explained. “The dangerous part will be handled by them.”

I gestured down to the small group of undead animals nearby.

“And that's it?” White Iron inquired, her tone stern and unyielding.

“That's it,” I promised. “I just need someone who can talk and who can relay my messages.”

“Fine,” White Iron muttered. “But that had better be the extent of it.”

“Are you ready?” I asked, glancing down at Rainy Day.

The filly nodded confidently. “Totally!”

“Good. You will guide the others out of the grove while I remain here with our prisoner,” I explained.

“Okay dokay, be back soon uncle Xathrid,” Rainy Days exclaimed.

The filly quickly departed, along with her parents who seemed confused by her moniker for me. They didn't seem angered though, only amused after an explanation was given, so I counted that as a win. Crossed Swords was the last to rejoin the group, the stallion stopping a few feet from me and clearing his throat.

“I assume you have some manner of plan,” he half asked, half stated.

“I do,” I replied. “That was too small to be a raiding party, so it's likely that they are just scouting the area and took the opportunity before them. If I can drive them away, then it will be one less headache for the both of us.”

“It's too bad we can't free them. No one deserves to live their life in chains,” Crossed Swords remarked before turning away from me, my small swarm close on his heels.

The group, now complete, trotted away, with Rainy Days leading them safely through my domain. I watched them leave for several seconds before turning my attention to the two remaining guests. The dog was still unconscious and was being watched like a hawk by Stalwart, who had somehow managed to locate one of the daggers dropped in the fight.

“Think you can get this thing off of him?” Stalwart barked, pointing with the knife towards the dog’s throat.

“No idea,” I admitted. “But I’ll try.”

I leaned down and plucked the dog from the earth, cradling his unconscious body in my massive bony hand. There he looked downright tiny, barely larger than one of the bones in my draconic avatar’s palm. He also looked a little cute, to be honest, like a diminutive puppy with oddly apelike characteristics.

Brushing aside such thoughts, I summoned my magic, and exhaled across his body, focusing on his throat. The collar lit up with bright gold, before morphing into a mix of yellow as well as a twisting dark grey color. It was strange, and unpleasant to look at, though I was mostly unbothered, as was Stalwart who watched my every move.

“It's an enchantment, a powerful one,” I remarked, digging through my stolen knowledge. “I don't know much of that school, and I don't think removing it would be a good idea. There is a lot of energy stored within that spell.”

“Don't want him exploding,” Stalwart muttered.

I would have raised an eyebrow if I could, the mare’s confident tone saying more than she did. Regardless, I had little else to do, so I focused on inhabiting the small swarm of critters heading back to the mountain. Or at least I would have, had Stalwart not loudly cleared her throat after a few minutes of silence.

“What's your angle?” she demanded.

“I thought we went over this already,” I replied.

“I’m not satisfied with your explanation, now tell me what you hope to gain from helping us,” Stalwart pressed.

“Company,” I answered after a short pause. “That's about it really. I’ve got a long life ahead of me, and I’d like it if it was one filled with laughter.”

“That's really, it?” Stalwart asked, incredulously.

“That's it,” I echoed.

The mare sat quietly, the blade laying on her lap and reflecting her face in its crudely shaped edge. She remained there, just staring for several minutes, before seemingly making up her mind and letting out a huff. She didn't elaborate any further, however, and I wasn't exactly itching to pry either, so I shifted my attention away.

To the group of bat ponies as they made their way back to their mountain home with my swarm and servant in tow. It wasn't that terribly long of a journey, given that they could all fly, save for Rainy Day, who could still only glide. Not like the filly minded, as she required no rest, and was able to run far faster than a living foal would normally be capable of.

I made a note to experiment more later, perhaps a bit of magic was all the undead pony needed. That was a thought for another time, however, as right now, she was fine running along beneath the others. Her parents remained close overhead but soon retreated a little further up once they realized their child was safe and close by.

My small swarm had mostly hitched a ride with the filly, sticking firmly to her back or neck. Their shorter legs weren't enough to keep up, save for a few of the frogs which could leap several meters in a single hop. Add to that their undead vigor and they were making great strides through the woods in little time.

Even Crooked Coin managed to stay airborne the entire way, though she was clearly winded by the end of it. Thankfully her leg muscles were mostly unused, allowing her to jog alongside the others as they entered the mountain. Statues passed them by, the silent mostly destroyed sentinels watching as the small squad ran back to the rest of the group.

Along the way, I was careful to inspect our surroundings using the small swarm of creatures. Things seemed fairly normal, with nothing being out of the ordinary, that was until we reached the city itself. There I could smell that something was off, the air was disturbed somehow as if another cave entrance had been opened nearby.

The others seemed to notice this as well and slowed down.

“Something’s wrong,” Crossed Swords muttered.

“Uncle Xathrid thinks so too,” Rainy Day offered.

I didn't tell her to say that, but it felt fitting at least.

“We need to move,” Crossed Swords declared.

Noone hesitated or offered another opinion, merely falling in behind the guard as he started ascending the steps. Hopping sometimes two or three stairs at a time, the group made their way swiftly up to the long bridge spanning the two sides of the cavern. There they saw their first sign that something was off, as a door to one of the many homes was laying on the road.

Some force had evidently knocked it clean off its hinges, and hadn't cared to toss it aside. Whoever had done this swiftly got in a scuffle, as blood, and dirt was spread all over the place. That crimson trail led towards the castle, which itself was a buzz with activity, bat ponies visible all over the place. Some ran out of it, others into it, while a couple flew overhead, confused or making their own escape.

“Stay here,” Crossed Swords ordered.

“I can help,” Rainy Day declared.

Stay with your parents. I added. It's too dangerous.

Rainy Day frowned. “Fine, but only because uncle Xathrid wants me to stay here.”

When Crossed Swords left, I had my swarm follow after him, the guard using his sense of danger quite effectively. It wasn't long before we had entered the castle, and were making our way into the cellar, pushing our way past the odd pony. Down there we found our first true guard pony, laying face down in a slowly growing pool of his own lifeblood.

Barely armored, and wielding only a rusted short sword, the soldier bore a long slit across his throat. That was more than enough to egg me on and tell me that this was likely the work of diamond dogs. They were remarkably stealthy, at least when it came to moving through stoney passageways.

While Crossed Swords got slowed down by having to push past a throng of injured and uncoordinated guards, I continued on. Using my many-legged critters to sneak beneath the hooves of the ponies and proceed down another set of stairs. By then we had passed by a cellar, a dungeon, and a dozen other spaces before ending at what had once been a storage area.

Now, however, it was the staging area for the diamond dog attackers, who were making a fighting retreat. The bat ponies were far more numerous and were closing in from all sides, but the dogs had better tactics and arms. The first line of them was fighting with long spears, keeping the bat ponies away while their brethren behind them hauled away frightened captives.

The sight sent a bolt of rage through me, and I swarmed the central-most dog in a horde of undead animals. His confusion turned to terror when a rather large monitor lizard bit off his unmentionables. He screamed and fell to the ground, abandoning any attempt to protect his fellows behind him.

This was just the opening the bat ponies needed, and using the bedlam spreading through the diamond dog line, they pushed. By the time this happened, I had already spread my swarm out amongst the other attackers, biting and clawing whatever I could. I scratched eyes, took out chunks of flesh, and otherwise did my best to sow as much chaos as was physically possible.

Even still, the dogs fought hard enough that some of the captive takers managed to escape before they were overwhelmed. Some were able to sneak away deeper into their impromptu tunnel, collapsing it behind them before the bat ponies had a chance to follow. As the bat ponies got around to taking prisoners and gathering up those who had nearly been kidnapped, I recalled Rainy Day.

I need you to act as my voice. Can you do that? I asked.

Yes! Came Rainy Day’s enthusiastic response.

I recalled the swarm and directed them into an unused room of the castle. I could hear the clamor of panic as ponies were brought away to have their injuries treated while others argued. This was mostly around simply killing all the dogs, but thankfully they decided against this action and bound them instead.

Rainy Day appeared not long after, the filly sprinting into the castle and careening around a corner.

“What are you doing, Rainy?” hissed White Iron. “Come back here.”

“I gotta help uncle Xathrid. He needs to talk to Tall Order,” Rainy Day exclaimed.

“Just slow down. We’ll come with you!” Cracked Wheel added.

The sight of the filly elicited confusion and fear in equal measure amongst the bat ponies. They had larger worries, however, and for the most part, ignored her, and focused on those more pressing concerns. Allowing Rainy Day, and her parents to reach the center of the commotion, the throne room.

Tall Order stood in the middle of it all, barking orders, and pointing people in various directions at a truly remarkable pace. While everyone around him panicked, Tall Order remained a pillar of order amidst the chaos. Within only a minute or so he had managed to get everything under control, bringing calm once more.

It was then that Rainy Day stepped forward after a small amount of urging from myself.

“It is good to see you are still in one piece,” Tall Order began, the aged stallion kneeling down. “Hold on a moment, what happened to you?”

“I died, but I got better,” Rainy Day exclaimed. “Uncle Xathrid needs to talk to you now.”

Tall Order stiffened, rising to a stand once more. Though no explanation was given, I just knew he understood what was going on.

“Go ahead,” he offered.

May I borrow you for a moment? I asked Rainy Day.

Sure. Rainy Day replied.

I regretfully took control of the filly, her posture immediately straightening. “I see you have also had a run-in with these diamond dogs. Any idea what they want?”

“I don't know, but we have prisoners and I intend on making them talk,” Tall Order exclaimed.

“Then bring them in,” I offered.

Tall Order exchanged a nod with one of the other bat ponies, and a few moments later a trio of diamond dogs was dragged inside. One was taller, and resembled a German shepherd almost, his face more angular than the others. Who was wider like the bulldog in their midst, as well as the boxer, whose shoulders were wide enough to carry a fridge on them. I immediately recognized the flat-faced brownish-gray bulldog from the way he clutched his bloody crotch.

“You,” Tall Order commanded, pointing to the clearly injured dog. “Tell me who ordered this attack, and where you are based.”

“Don't say nothing. You know what they’ll do to you if you do,” hissed the boxer.

“We’ll treat your injuries if you do,” Tall Order offered.

“It's a trick, the collar-”

“Some fancy unicorn with gold armor!” the dog shrieked. “Our camp is not far, only a few miles south and deeper in the earth. Now please help me find my pe-”

His demand was cut off when all of a sudden, he erupted in flames, his entire body covered in golden fire. His scream of pain lasted an instant before the dog was reduced to ash, leaving behind the collar he had worn. Unblemished by the flames, the item rested atop the gray pile, ready to enslave another unwilling party.

“Well then,” I muttered through Rainy Day’s mouth. “That complicates matters.”

Author's Note

The Sacrifice Play

Author's Note

Want even more great content? Well your in luck. I just updated another new story

The Sacrifice Play

“That it does,” Tall Order echoed. “To think that the Celestia has fallen to such lows. Not even during her darkest hour did Luna consider such tactics.”

The one remaining dog said nothing, merely remaining still, arms clasped tight at his sides.

“It would be unethical to demand anything more of them,” I remarked.

“Indeed,” Tall Order agreed.

Our conversation was interrupted by the doors opening, and a very familiar stallion appearing in the doorway. He looked nearly identical to Tall Order, with the only noticeable difference being that the new arrival was slightly taller. The pair seemed to know one another, as the new pony trotted up Tall Order, and paused to catch his breath.

“I’m assuming the others have been calmed, and that we have suffered no additional losses,” Tall Order began.

The second stallion nodded once before clearing his throat. “All told we have two dead, ten wounded, and nine missing. Terrible, but it could have certainly been worse.”

“I suppose so,” Tall order muttered.

“Excuse me, who is this?” I asked.

“Pen Stroke, my shadow. We hold the same station and are legally one person,” Tall Order declared, only to frown. “I had thought you met.”

“I…” I paused, only now realizing that I had forgotten Pen Stroke’s name and had simply assumed that he was Tall Order. “I got mixed up. Regardless, I was wondering what you had planned on doing now.”

“We are not sure,” Tall Order exclaimed. “The losses are tragic, but we simply don't have the strength to take on a well-organized and dug-in force like the diamond dogs.”

“We will likely have to retreat, and accept your offer sooner rather than later,” Pen Stroke declared.

I glanced over to the corner of the room where the pile of pony skeletons had been and noted that they were gone. Though I wasn't totally sure where they were, I could still sense that they were near, likely kept somewhere out of sight.

“You know,” I interrupted. “I could aid you by bolstering your numbers. Though the manner in which this happens may be… unpalatable to most.”

Tall Order and Pen Stroke exchanged a glance before turning away.

“You, you, out. You, get the prisoner locked up somewhere secure. Make sure he's fed and watered,” Tall Order barked.

His shadow, Pen Stroke, hastily moved about the room, pushing the others to go about their business a little faster. Once it was done, we were alone in the throne room, with no one to overhear our conversation.

“How exactly do you intend on doing this?” Tall Order demanded.

“I could raise your fallen, and set them to work defending you,” I stated quite frankly. “I know it may be rather grim, but they would not be enslaved, nor would I use them against the wishes of the remaining family.”

Pen Stroke seemed offended for a moment, but Tall Order didn't flinch at the suggestion. In fact, he seemed to be expecting it.

“Provided we get permission from all remaining parties, I think this is manageable,” Tall Order muttered.

“I know things are dire, but this… this is too much,” Pen Stroke retorted.

“Do you see any other options?” Tall Order retorted.

Pen Stroke sighed and shook his head. “No. I know this is the only real chance we have but it still saddens me.”

“The moment they are no longer needed I could return them to their rest, and it's not like they would be enslaved or anything so cruel as that,” I pressed.

“I know, I know. I’ve read all about your kind, and their strange method of acquiring ‘help’,” Pen Stroke remarked, adding air quotes around the last word.

“I don't foresee many ponies resisting this suggestion,” Tall Order offered.

“I don't either,” Pen Stroke agreed.

“Though I would like something in return for this offer,” I interrupted. “It would be a significant expenditure of power, and I would be committing to assist you for some time.”

“I assume you won't demand such payment immediately,” Tall Order half asked, half stated.

“No,” I replied, Shaking little Rainy’s head. “We could think of something later, but I would need promises that the favor would be returned, one day.”

“That is… acceptable,” Pen Stroke declared.

“Perhaps we should begin speaking to the families of the deceased,” Tall Order prompted.

“I suppose we should,” Pen Stroke regretfully agreed.

“I will allow Rainy to continue visiting with her parents while I look after my own prisoner,” I added.

“You took one of the dog’s captive?” Pen Stroke asked, eyebrows raised.

“I have,” I admitted. “Though he has yet to awaken.”

“Let us know what else you discover,” Tall Order urged.

“Of course,” I exclaimed.

Then with a slight bow, I relinquished control of Rainy Day’s body, causing her to stumble briefly. My apologies. I thought. I won't have need of you for a few hours so feel free to return to your family.

Then I’d have to come back here? Rainy Days inquired.

If you don't mind. I replied.

Rainy Days nodded. “Okay, goodbye Tall Order, Pen Stroke.”

“Goodbye Rainy Days,” Pen Stroke exclaimed.

“And enjoy the time you have with your family,” Tall Order added.

“I will,” Rainy Days declared.

She then trotted off, and I slowly allowed my consciousness to leave her as much as was possible. Focusing my attention back on my grove, my prisoner, and Stalwart, the aged mare having not moved an inch.

“Ahh, your back,” she muttered.

“I spoke with your leaders,” I remarked, through the mouth of my draconic servant. “Things have not gone well for your former neighbors.”

Stalwart snorted and glared down at the still sleeping dog. “Let me guess, more of these flea bags?”

“Indeed,” I admitted. “Though I’ve offered to remedy their security issues by giving them an unbreathing force of guards, I am uncertain if they will agree.”

Stalwart eyed me closely, studying the face of my bone dragon puppet closely. I don't know if she was doing this purely to try and unnerve me or if she could really detect my emotions. Regardless, I couldn't help but feel as though she was successful if only a little bit.

“They will,” she remarked after a long pause. “Most don't have family, which makes their bodies property of the crown. Or in this case, Pen and Tall.”

“Regardless, I hope they will come up with some way to pay me back soon. I am certain that this resurrection will cost me dearly given how far away it is,” I admitted.

Stalwart was quiet once more, the pony staring off into the distance this time, eyes glazed and unfocused. Thinking that she was no longer willing to talk, I started to move away, only for a hoof of hers to suddenly shoot up.

“Wait a second,” she commanded.

I paused and sat back down.

“What exactly do you hope to gain in return?” Stalwart asked.

“Life force, preferably,” I exclaimed. “Be it from captured prisoners, condemned criminals, or simple beasts caught in cages. I am expending power, and simply wish to be paid back what I use.”

“Tit for tat,” she muttered.

I simply sat there, staring as the mare ruminated on something important. After nearly a minute of silence, she turned to me, her face relaxing, and her shoulders falling. All at once she seemed… old, beaten down, and weak. The hard edge that surrounded her was gone, and all at once, she appeared to have two hooves in the grave.

“I will pay this price,” Stalwart declared.

“You will,” I muttered in shock.

“I will,” she repeated.

“Why?” I replied.

“Because I’m dying you fool,” she spat. “The wasting is probably only a few days from taking my legs, I’m almost blind, and I’m starting to have trouble hearing. Soon there won't be much left of me to take and I don't want to die a useless pile of flesh.”

“Are you sure you shouldn't speak to your relatives or friends?” I offered.

“Got none,” she muttered, the pride in her voice slipping away. “All I ever wanted was to avenge my grandparents. To live up to my family name, and do my momma proud. Now that the war’s over…”

Stalwart Steel was quiet for several long seconds before snorting suddenly.

“I’ve been dead for a while. My body just hasn't realized it yet, but that time is comin’,” she stated.

“It will be painful,” I pointed out.

The mare threw a stone at my head. “I know that you idjit!” she shouted. “But it won't be half as painful as what my life will soon look like so don't patronize me.”

“Right,” I muttered, glancing around. “Would you like to write a will, or perhaps record a few words?”

Stalwart snorted. “I ain't got nothin' left to my name, save my honor and I’ll be taking that to my grave.”

“Speaking of which. I could raise you back, as I did Rainy,” I offered. “You would not need for sleep, or suffer an illness.”

“No,” she declared quite sternly.

“No,” she repeated, quieter this time. “I’m done fighting, done dying, done being used up and spat out the other end. All I want is to rest, but if you have use for these old bones then I say go ahead. I won't be needin’ em where I’m goin’.”

I nodded. “I’ll let Pen and Tall know.”

“No,” Stalwart interrupted. “Those old coots will try to dissuade me and I don't know if I have the heart to tell ‘em off again. You can tell ‘em after the deed’s done. Then it doesn't matter.”

I wanted to refuse, to force her to think about this more or talk to another pony about it only to stop myself. I would not strip away the rights of another, nor would I make a decision for someone, even out of kindness. I had committed to those ideals and doubled down on them when I brought back Rainy Days. I couldn't simply go back on them now because my choices became a bit more grey, and a bit darker.

“Alright,” I agreed. “Though I insist that you make some kind of will if only to prove that I did not in any way force this upon you.”

“Don't worry about that. I fully intended on dying here one way or another and they knew it,” Stalwart retorted, ambling awkwardly up from the rock she had been leaning on and making her way towards me.

“Really? That is… on brand for you,” I muttered.

“Brand?” she snorted. “You’re a strange one and I’m not just saying that because you’re a talking tree.”

“I get that a lot,” I replied.

The mare trundled over to my trunk and began the seemingly painful process of just lying down. I attempted to assist, but she swatted away my boney hand, refusing any help. Once she was comfortable, the pony sighed and closed her eyes.

“Wake me up when those whiny old stallions get their ducks in a line,” she muttered.

“Will do,” I muttered.

Taking a step back, I watched the mare relax and begin to breathe a little slower. Though not asleep, she was close, and I didn't want to interrupt her, not only because I didn't want to get yelled at again. Pushing that thought out of my mind, I turned to the still unconscious dog laying nearby.

I was going to be distracted while I was raising all of those thestrals, so I picked him up in a great boney hand. For a moment I was unsure of what to do with him, but then I remembered that I had other friends here. Walking over to a nearby thorn bush, I gently laid the dog down, and focused inward, communicating with the plant.

After a few moments of surprisingly intense diplomatic discussions, the bush opened and allowed me to place the dog inside. There, the bush thickened until escape was impossible, but would not harm its charge provided they didn't move. With that done, I extended my senses, and focused on Rainy Days once more, noting that she was in the company of her family.

The trio was quiet, with Cracked Wheel humming to himself while he made some kind of soup in a large pot. White Iron rested just outside the range of the fire, her head laying on a torn pillow likely taken from a couch. Rainy Days was batting a ball back and forth between her forehooves, content but steadily growing bored. They were outside the main castle, just off to the side, what remained of my swarm huddled in a nearby alleyway.

For a moment I considered simply letting them be, and figuring something out with the undead animals I controlled. Then Rainy Days perked up, and I knew she was eager to do anything other than simply lying on the street.

Did you need something uncle? She asked.

I was hoping to speak to Tall Order and Pen Stroke. I replied. But if you’re busy…

I’m not busy. I can do that! She helpfully declared.

“Is it Xathrid?” Cracked Wheel asked, glancing at Rainy out of the corner of his eye. “I hope it's not more bad news.”

“No,” Rainy answered. “Uncle Xathrid just needs to talk to Pen and Tall again.”

“Just be back before dinner,” White Iron murmured without opening her eyes. “I know you don't need to eat anymore but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy a meal with your family.”

“I know mom,” Rainy replied.

“Well, you better hurry then dear. Wouldn't want to leave all those important ponies waiting,” Cracked Wheel offered.

“Okay, bye,” Rainy shouted before sprinting off towards the castle.

It was nice to see that the two of them were adapting so quickly to Rainy Days' current predicament. The way they came together so soon, and accepted her so readily warmed whatever fascimile of a heart I had. Plus it was just nice to see that although strange, Rainy Days would still have some manner of childhood. It would get weird in a few years when she wanted to be an independent adult, but we would cross that bridge when we came to it.

By the time I had finished my musings, Rainy Days had reached the throne room and was barge inside. I stopped her before she could do so, however, and pointed out the two thestrals that were hastily moving to oppose her sudden entrance.

Maybe ask them first. I offered. It would be rude to enter unannounced.

“Fine,” Rainy Days muttered. “Uncle Xathrid wants to talk with Tall and Pen.”

“They are almost done deliberating, just wait a moment longer please,” warned the exasperated middle-aged thestral.

“Okay,” Rainy Days murmured.

I distracted her by pointing out that one of the side rooms had a bunch of paintings in them. Together we inspected the aged, and weather-beaten pieces of art, though me more than her. Children were children after all, though she did like all the ones that depicted battles. Which were most of them, though the actual forces were blurred, their forms skewed by time and the elements. Thankfully it didn't take long for the other thestral guard to return, as Rainy Days' limited attention span was running out.

“Alright, you can come in,” she offered.

“Finally,” Rainy Days whined.

The child scampered through the other pony’s legs and dashed for the door, slipping through the narrowing opening. Once inside, she made a beeline up to Tall Order, ignoring the fact that a large number of thestrals were attempting to leave. The young undead was bored and pushed her way up to the group of adults speaking animatedly near where a throne would normally sit.

“Is all the talking over?” she loudly proclaimed.

“I uh, yes. I suppose it is,” Tall Order muttered.

The stallion waved away the other adults that clustered around him, save for Pen Stroke.

“Almost all have given their consent to bring back the victims of the dogs, and Zaxonis,” Pen Stroke offered.

May I take it from here? I asked.

My answer came when I was all but thrown into the driver’s seat, the force of the sudden transition almost knocking me from my hooves. I hastily righted myself and made a note to chastise Rainy Days, as well as come up with some manner of lesson.

“Kids,” I muttered.

“I take it we are speaking to Xathrid now,” Tall Order half asked, half stated.

“You are,” I answered. “Now let us do this quickly. I have a rather ornery thorn bush I owe a favor to.”

“Rrright,” Pen Stroke muttered, gesturing towards the entrance. “If you’ll follow us we’ll direct you to where we’ve been keeping the uh, remains.”

“And discuss with you our terms while we do so,” Tall Order added.

“Of course,” I agreed.

Together we made our way towards the exit once more, the small crowd having cleared, though a few remained. We maneuvered around them and began to travel deeper into a section of the castle I had yet to see with my own eyes.

“First off, we hold the right to rescind your use of them at any point in time for whatever reason,” Tall Order began. “In addition, we were hoping for some manner of promise that you would not use them to monitor or spy on us.”

“I mean. I can ignore them, but they’d make pretty terrible guards if I didn't pay attention to their surroundings,” I replied.

Pen Stroke sighed. “We feared as much. Perhaps there is a way you could… use them much in the way that Zaxonis did his wolves.”

“That is… possible,” I admitted. “I could also teach you how to make your own wolves, and you could keep the undead stowed away somewhere until needed. I would need at least one semi-intelligent servant to remain in the area to oversee things.”

“That is reasonable. For now, they will serve as the guards we need, but in time they will be placed into retirement,” Tall Order exclaimed.

I nodded along but said nothing a little in awe of their forward thinking. I had considered something similar but they were clearly more adept at planning than I. They were clearly intelligent, and may even be able to help me with my own schemes, though that would come later.

At the moment we were entering what had likely been the cold storage for a nearby kitchen area. Inside I found a great mound of bones, and three freshly killed corpses, all I assumed, of thestrals. The more recently dead I could tell for certain, but the bones were, well, bones.

“We will remain outside,” Tall Order offered.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “Your debt has been paid by the way.”

Pen Stroke sighed, and ran a hoof down his head. “Let me guess, Stalwart?”

I nodded.

“And she is not going to give anyone the chance to speak to her, I assume?” Tall Order added.

I shook Rainy Days' head.

“Predictable,” they both muttered before leaving.

I chuckled, and walked over to the mound of bones, using my necromantic senses to identify them. Sure enough, they were all from thestrals, though I’d need to separate them before I could raise them properly. I could sense that simply raising them as they are now would make some sort of horrific amalgam, or otherwise create problems.

While I did that, I switched back to my grove and focused on Stalwart once more.

“It is time,” I rumbled.

“Get it over with already. I can feel my sight leaving me already, and I don't wish to enter the next life as blind as those sun-obsessed morons I spent so long fighting,” Stalwart barked, her eyes snapping open.

“If you insist,” I replied.

“Oh and make sure you use my bones to kick the flank of those self-righteous morons,” Stalwart demanded. “Nothing would make me rest easier than knowing that I would still be doin’ what I do best even when I ain't here anymore.”

“I promise,” I answered.

“Well then, get on with-”

I pulled and pulled hard, all but tearing the flesh from Stalwart’s bones in a single instant. So fast was the process that she barely even had a chance to feel any pain before her features melted away. I took only a small amount of joy in interrupting her for once, though that feeling grew as a great wave of energy suddenly coursed through me.

Though the amount of muscle and other tissue she had left was minimal when finally the last bit of meat had been absorbed I was remarkably invigorated. She had so many memories, so many skills, abilities, and talents that I struggled to even name them all. Stalwart was a soldier, she knew how to fight, how to maintain weapons and armor, and how to prepare meals in the field.

She had known how to dress most wounds when to counter-attack, when to hold back and when to run. Although no general, she had the type of experience that came from bloody conflicts, and many battlefields. Though not as adept at stealth, she knew how to muffle the sounds of her hooves, and make silent her armor.

Other skills flashed through my mind, though they all followed the same theme of being about a professional soldier. Though I also now knew how to knit, crochet, stitch, and was suddenly a fairly expert weaver for some reason. It made me wonder if there was some hidden grandmotherly side to Stalwart that she never let anyone see. Either way, no one would ever know now, as she was well beyond the point of anyone finding that information out.

With that done, I just kind of sat there, picking through bones and cycling through skills, barely even paying attention to my newest servant. The skeletal thestral stood there, waiting for a command, their bones perfectly bleach white and unblemished. Not until I had separated out all the victim’s remains from one another did I really refocus on my surroundings again.

I started by checking on the dog, and finding that he was still unconscious, I moved on to Rainy Days. Who I could feel was puppeting not her own body, but rather one of the undead lizards I had brought with me back to the thestral base. I watched as she scampered about the castle, spooking random ponies before slipping away before they could respond.

Well then. I guess she can do that now. I thought to myself. I think I’ll study that more later.

Focusing on the various skeletal remains before me, I zeroed in on the first one and began the process of raising it. It took a bit more energy, as I assumed, but it was not outside of my power, especially with the latest boost. This still kind of shocked me with how powerful it had been, clearly the freshness had something to do with it.

One by one, I raised each of the skeletal thestrals, my attention slowly splitting between more and more bodies. I had experience guiding hundreds of individual creatures at this point, though ponies took a bit more focus. Still, I had more than enough strength and attention left in me so I wasn't about to complain nor worry.

In the end, I ended up with an even two dozen skeletons before I settled over the forms of the more recently deceased. Killed in the diamond dog raid, they had yet to even really begin to rot and seemed ready to stand up at any moment. It was a grim sight, but I pushed it out of mind, and summoned my power once more, starting with the older of the two.

He took slightly more power than the skeletons but rose once more after a little prompting. Unlike the skeletons, who sported a set of small flaming green orbs where their eyes were, the zombie’s unseeing orbs glowed faintly. His movements were also a bit more sluggish than the nimble skeletons, but that made sense since he was a zombie.

With one final creature left to raise, I hovered a hoof over the slit thestral’s head, a sense of dread settling over me. I could sense that the spirit lingered, though I couldn't tell where it was, or what exactly it wanted. Either way, I had a job to do, and so I pushed the barest hint of my power into the corpse, only for it to immediately leap back up.

A cry of rage spilled from its dead lips, and without any prompting from me, it began looking around. While it did so, I noticed that its head was beginning to smoke, its mane quickly burning away and leaving behind an unpleasant aroma. By the time it realized that its foe wasn't around, the flesh on its skull was melting away to reveal the skull beneath.

I felt its desire to seek vengeance, and though powerful, I stifled it, causing the flames burning on its head to fade but not die. I could feel the raging spirit rankle beneath my commands to stay still, but it relaxed once I told it my plans. It would get its revenge, of that I was certain, but I would need to scout, to plan, to seek them out.

“Alright there Johnny Blaze, let's relax a bit and think about this rationally,” I muttered.

I could feel the soul remained within the body but it was not sentient, not truly anyway. Little more than a ball of raging emotion and an intense desire to kill, it fought my control but was still under my command. I was about to start trying to figure out what exactly it was when I felt something strange wash over the deer skull.

“What-” Rainy Days began.

“Now,” my dragon servant finished.

Gazing up at the deer skull hovering and glowing in mid-air I was immediately struck by just how familiar the magic felt. Whoever, or whatever was currently casting a spell on it had been the same person as before when it had glowed earlier. I immediately expected that something terrible was going to happen, and tried to shake off the aura. That didn't work, and I didn't know enough about countering enemy magic to really have a chance of doing that either. Left with no other option than to simply sit there and watch, I did just that.

Until all of a sudden, it vanished in a flash.

I focused on the connection I had with the skull, and was able to find that it had teleported a considerable distance. Just barely on the edge of my zone of control, it sat in a pile of half-rotten gore in the middle of what seemed to be a tent. Above me, staring down were a pair of deer, and a single pegasus mare wearing a set of heavy golden armor.

Fuck.

Pointed Questions Asked

For a moment we just stared at one another, giving me the chance to inspect them a little closer. We were in what seemed to be a tent of deer design given the complete lack of sun motifs. There were also carvings of deer and other antlered creatures, mostly busts but there was one tall complete sculpture.

I didn't pay them much mind, however, and mainly observed the three creatures standing above me. From right to left they were a tall, aged, and elderly-looking female deer, a second female deer, this one much younger. Then finally there was a tall, well-muscled, and commanding pegasus mare wearing a set of pony plate mail.

The eldest of the bunch wore a wooden crown the top of which sported several small branches ending in a collection of leaves. Her features were lean, her eyes bright, and she peered down at me with a mix of curiosity as well as concern. The wooden crown was not all she wore, however, as a regal deep green cape hemmed with gold hung around her shoulders. The older doe had faded brown fur, a white muzzle, as well as deep bags that hung beneath her eyes.

In contrast, the deer next to her wore nothing save for a band of metal around her neck, upon which was a cylinder of some kind. Without anything to cover her body, I could tell that she was young, athletic, and sported a pristine coat of dark greyish blue fur. The only spot of white hung under her eyes and was accented by a painted black arrow that pointed downward. Her expression was dark, and I could see anger warring in her intense eyes.

The lone pony of the group wore the only armor, with the only bit missing being her helmet which lay on a nearby table. Thankfully without it, I could see that she had light pink fur, and a dark yellow mane the same color as her eyes. Which she used to gaze at me with a mix of horror and disgust, a hoof clenching the hilt of her sword.

“What is going on?” whispered the solar guard. “You said she was alive.”

“I said she was probably alive. The spell was inconclusive,” calmed the elderly deer in an even tone.

“That matters little at this point. My sister is gone and someone has stolen her body, the only question is who,” stated the intense younger deer.

“Are you sure it's been animated through foul sorcery?” asked the pegasus. “Other than have creepy eyes it's just been… sitting there.”

The older deer began to lean down but was stopped by a hoof from the younger of the two.

“Wait,” warned the darker furred of the pair. “We don't know what has ensnared her soul.”

“If it was feral it would have attacked us already. Be at ease, Quaking Yew,” remarked the older deer. “We should parlay with the entity. Perhaps it may tell us more of what happened to your dear sister.”

“Whoever is using her head clearly killed her,” Quaking Yew retorted. “Why is this even a question?”

“I agree with Quaking Yew,” stated the pegasus. “We should cleanse it in holy fire, and see about burying your dead.”

“We do not bury our dead, commander Rays,” retorted the older deer. “But that doesn't matter at the moment. We must prepare the necessary incantations. Perhaps we may find out more about what happened to Sweet Willow.”

“We should not be asking anything of whatever monster took my sister from me. We should be extracting what we need, by force if required,” Quaking Yew stated, clopping a hoof angrily against the ground.

“Allow me,” Commander Rays declared, reaching into her bag.

The elder deer who I hadn't had the chance to catch the name of, seemed ready to intervene, but I wasn't about to take any chances. I had no idea what they were capable of, and though I wanted to simply sever the ties to the skull I also wished to apologize. I knew it wasn't the best plan, but I pushed a bit of magic into the skull and floated it up into the air right as Sun Rays threw a net. The weighted projectile landed amidst the rotten gore and missed me by mere inches.

“Get it!” Quaking Yew shouted.

“No, wait!” interrupted the elderly deer, though her cry was in vain.

Both Quaking Yew and Commander Rays were attempting to pin me down either with hooves or the net again. Weaving through the creatures, I made a beeline for the exit, using my momentum to brush aside the flap. Immediately outside I found myself in what looked to be a small encampment of narrow, but tall tents all clustered in a clearing.

I didn't exactly stay long enough to inspect my surroundings, however, as I was already flying back towards my main body. While this was happening, I sent Stalwart’s skeleton on an intercept course after casting a ventriloquism spell on her. With that done, I briefly considered sending the dragon as well, but held back on that, keeping him in reserve as I didn't want to scare them.

At least not yet.

The deer skull weaved through the trees, ducked under clotheslines, and swerved around startled deer. I counted a good few dozen of the slender creatures, though I could tell that there were more nearby. I discovered that there was also a full patrol of the sun tyrant’s soldiers stationed at the edge of the encampment, much to my dismay.

“Capture that skull!” shouted Commander Ray’s voice from in the distance.

The cadre of nine soldiers split into two groups, one of which broke camp while the other took up the chase. Though quick, I had a few seconds of a headstart and put it to use by pushing the skull to move as fast as was feasible. The top speed was about as fast as the average pegasus could fly, but I soon discovered that most of the pegasi chasing me were better than just average.

Zipping through the trees with grace and agility came the winged soldiers of Ray’s squad. Lightly armored, and armed with daggers, as well as crossbows, they numbered only three. Still, that would be more than enough to take down the skull provided they were able to catch up to me.

A possibility that was becoming increasingly likely with each passing second.

Think, they must have some weakness! I thought to myself.

I had a few seconds of a lead, and I used it to inspect my surroundings a bit closer, trying to find some edge. The forest was deep, old, with little in the way of bushes, and much in the way of enormous moss-covered ancients that towered over the surroundings. It looked like something out of a storybook, though I didn't exactly have the time to appreciate its true beauty at the moment.

Ducking and weaving through the boughs of the great trees I found that my lead was increasing. Not only that, but the pegasi were struggling to match the turning radius the deer skull had. It was obvious then what I had to do, though it still wasn't easy. Bolts whizzed past the deer skull, and worse still, Quaking Yew had somehow managed to catch up to me.

I spotted her out of the corner of my vision a moment before she leaped from the branches of a tree. Her attempt to capture me was nearly successful, and I only narrowly managed to avoid her by slipping through a hollow log. Bursting out the other side, I continued to try and evade my capture by repeating the same strategy as before.

This was fairly successful, though I never quite managed to shed them, no matter what I did. Quaking Yew made several more appearances though her efforts were largely useless, as I tried to stay higher off the ground. Within a few minutes, Stalwart’s skeleton was standing in a small clearing while the deer skull was screaming towards it.

My pursuers remained hot on my heels, right up until the skull unexpectedly stopped and turned around. Shocked and confused, the soldiers, arrayed themselves around the edge of the clearing, waiting for their commander to arrive. They didn't have to wait long, as Commander Ray burst through the tree cover a few seconds later, sword held aloft in her hoof.

“Why have you all-” she stopped and glanced down at my servants. “So you think you can take us.”

I watched as Quaking Yew emerged from the shadows a moment later, glaring daggers at both of the undead under my command. The elderly deer was surprisingly, not far behind though I didn't even notice her arrival, rather she simply appeared.

“No,” I declared. “I do not wish to fight you, any of you.”

That seemed to shock the group into temporarily stopping their attempt to encircle me. Not like it mattered, as I had cut a deal with a rather large fir tree nearby.

“I told you we should have readied the correct incantations,” exclaimed the older deer, who stepped forward before anyone else could say anything. “Please excuse the hasty actions of my granddaughter, and our ally, Honey Rays. I am Whispering Alder, and I welcome you.”

The realization that I killed this lady’s grandchild plucked at my heartstrings though I stowed my pain deep down inside.

I had Stalwart bow. “Of course, it is forgiven. Though I believe it is you who I should be apologizing to.”

“Quit talking to the abomination,” hissed commander Rays.

“Hold, a moment. Perhaps we should seek more information on this… thing,” Quakin Yew muttered, gesturing to my servants.

“I am not an it, I am a he. Though it's hardly relevant given that I am a tree,” I stated.

“You are a nimloth, or as the ponies say, a ghoultree, then?” offered Whispering Alder.

“I am,” I confirmed. “But before we get further I must apologize for inadvertently killing your granddaughter. My traps did not discriminate, and I admit that at the time I did not know your kind were sapient.”

“How do you know what the word sapient means but you don't know that deer are,” Commander Rays pointed out.

“I have… recently learned much,” I admitted.

“You speak in riddles and half-truths. How can we trust you?” Quaking Yew asked.

“You cannot,” I replied simply, holding out one of Stalwart’s hooves. “Though I hope that I will have earned a little after offering you back the remains of your kin.”

The deer skull fell into my open grasp, the tether binding it to me having been severed by a mental command. Thankfully the skills I had taken from it remained, though I could feel that my ability to cast deer magic had suffered. I lacked the proper conduit now but that was not a concern at the moment, rather it was the three creatures standing across from me.

“That is quite magnanimous of you,” Whispering Alder exclaimed. “I had not thought your kind was capable of such diplomacy.”

“I am different,” I replied.

“You are a liar,” spat Quaking Yew. “No tree is capable of such magic, nor such deep thought. They have always been, and always will be, simple creatures of instinct.”

“Hush child, you know not what you speak,” Whispering Alder interrupted.

“I know enough to know that this thing is no simple plant,” Quaking Yew retorted.

“More than likely it is being puppeted by the dread lord Zaxonis, or one of the cowardly thestrals that escaped our grasp,” Commander Rays added.

“That is impossible, as he is dead and they know nothing of such magics. Please,” I urged them, extending Stalwart’s hoof. “Take this as a token of my goodwill. I will quite willingly answer any questions you may have.”

Whispering Alder took the skull and smiled. “I thank you, kind nimloth. I hope we may be able to work together in the future.”

“Grandmother,” hissed Quaking Yew. “This thing killed my sister and uses the dead like puppets. The only thing we should be doing is killing it.”

“You know not what you speak of, child,” Whispering Alder retorted. “The forest knows not cruelty, nor hate. Its magics do not make slaves of the dead, nor does it kill pointlessly.”

“Even if this is some tree, all sapient things are capable of evil and necromancy is evil as well as incredibly illegal,” Commander Rays declared.

“We are not on your lands, we are on ours,” Whispering Alder stated.

“We are on no one’s lands,” Quaking Yew retorted. “Our clan makes no claims this far west.”

“Regardless. I would appreciate it if we found a peaceful solution to all of our disagreements,” I interrupted.

“I agree. Peace shall reign when you are dead and buried beside the slaves of the moon which you seem to know so well,” Commander Ray stated.

I cursed under my breath, only now realizing that I had inadvertently told them that I knew the thestrals and thus the soldiers knew they were near.

“Necromancy is as all magic, to be respected. You know this, child. It is our earliest teaching,” Whispering Alder exclaimed.

“All I know is that before me stands a monster, one whose master I must slay,” Quaking Yew declared.

“Damn your respect. Attack!” Commander Ray ordered.

“Wait!” Whispering Alder shouted. “The ghoultree is an integral part of the forest and of the natural order. Would you bemoan a flower for consuming the sun's rays? A wolf for hunting, or a vulture for eating the dead?”

The passion of the doe’s words seemed to temporarily stun the others into listening to her. I, however, knew where this was going and began to silently back up.

“A nimloth serves as a defender of the forest and takes only what was required to survive. There is no malice in his actions, only a need to survive as all living things do,” Whispering Alder passionately exclaimed.

“I don't care if killing it dooms the forest. It lost its privileged position the moment it took the life of my sister,” Quaking Yew declared.

The enraged doe alongside Commander Ray and her soldiers all leaped at Stalwart’s skeleton, intent on destroying it. By then, however, I had stealthily made my way beneath the boughs of the great fir tree. Whose enormous limbs swatted aside the pegasi flying at me, while blocking Quaking Yew’s path.

While I fled, using the fir as cover, I was hit by two separate attacks, each one of which nearly destroyed Stalwart. The first came from a solar guard, who managed to release some kind of golden blast of energy at my servant. Barely larger than the average bolt, I assumed it would do little but was surprised when it caused the cohesion of Stalwart’s body to suffer.

It took far more strength than what should be necessary just to hold together the undead’s bones. An effort made ever more difficult by the sudden shrill whistle that set my very soul on edge. It was brief, but even after it passed I still struggled to maintain a clear focus on simply returning back to base.

Thankfully the fir tree was as large as it was ornery, and was able to keep the group distracted while Stalwart slipped away. While I ran, I tried to think of some kind of plan but found that for once I couldn't come up with anything at all. Deer magic worked on me, as did whatever spell the solar guard, neither of which I had a counter to.

Plan B then, outlast them. I thought to myself.

Author's Note

Shots Are Fired

As I recalled Stalwart’s bones, I used my connection to the forest to track the foes I had left behind. The ponies numbered only ten but were strong, fast, and both well-armed as well as well-armored. The fir tree I had left behind was doing a good job keeping them occupied, but the ponies quickly realized that it was just a tree and thus could not move.

I took a small amount of joy when they realized this and looked embarrassed for a moment before continuing the chase. I was very glad they had not chosen to burn the tree down or something like that, though that was likely due to the older deer. Even now her words calmed the worst of the pony’s violent urges, staying their hoof before they could kill the old plant.

Either way, my little gambit had worked, and I got the chance to inspect my pursuers a little closer.

Using a mixture of information gathered by various plants in my extended network, and a few bugs I had managed to bring back I got a good idea of my foe’s strengths. Only the two deer joined the ponies, but Whispering Alder was clearly not interested in fighting and trotted at a relatively slower pace behind the others. She had tried to do the same disappearing trick again but ended up unable to get more than a few feet. I got the feeling that my own magic was blocking her, though it wasn't a conscious effort on my part.

Thoughts for another time. I declared.

Focusing on the ponies, I studied how they moved, and what abilities they seemed to possess. The earth ponies, or those who lacked both wings and a horn, were tough, as well as far more heavily armored. The trio of burly soldiers acted like bodyguards for the unicorns, smashing aside small trees, or other obstacles in their way.

Bulky, but not so encumbered by their armor that they could not run at full tilt, little of the pony underneath was visible. Only the color of their eyes could be seen from their all-encompassing shell of gold and red armor. Two had warhammers, while the third had across his back a large tower shield that likely mounted to a forehoof.

The unicorns that marched hastily behind their larger companions had far less protection on their person. A heavy golden breastplate protected their vitals, while a mix of chain and light scalemail covered the rest. They also had only light maces, or a dagger for protection, the slim implements a mere backup weapon.

Like all the others, the unicorns had a mix of gold and red armor, though the deep crimson was a bit more prominent with them. They also had strange fake golden halos that resembled the sun half hidden behind their unhelmed heads. If this served a practical purpose or just signified rank, I couldn't be certain, so I stowed that thought for the moment.

Finally, there were the pegasi, who were even more lightly armored than their unicorn counterparts. They lacked even a breastplate and had only thick crimson leather armor studded with gold. Short, deep red cloaks billowed out behind them as they flew, the slightly tattered cloth telling me that they had likely not returned to base in some time. Their daggers and short, hoof-mounted crossbows were still in perfect order, however, though they had yet to put such weapons to use yet.

Despite their incredible speed, they made at least a small effort to keep with the rest of their squad. Which, at their center flew Commander Rays, barking orders all while flying just fast enough to stay at the head of their formation. Roughly wedge-shaped, with the other pegasi flying slightly ahead, they were slowed somewhat by their unicorns.

I knew I had to impede them further and hopefully even kill or at least down a few of them before they reached me. But, I had few options and they had yet to near my domain proper, so the plants out here were less eager to give me their loyalty. I also had to send a message through sometimes up to four different networks of mycelium and root so it would take time I didn't have.

The earth ponies were not likely to be slowed by much, so focusing any effort on them would probably be useless. They also stayed relatively close to the unicorns, meaning I wouldn't likely accomplish much there either. The pegasi posed unique problems as well, but they had not broken the tree cover yet, and most pivotally, had smaller helmets. Shaped like slightly bulky hats, they were metal but had been turned a deep crimson through unknown means.

I sent out a few promises of protection, and that their support would be reciprocated to the plants. I got back several affirmations, but not as many as I would have liked. The trees that far outside of my domain did not know me as well, and I got the feeling that they had something akin to pride.

Still, a few accepted, and I made a note of rewarding them in the future.

The first to come through was a rather young yew tree, which subtly moved a bough in the way of a pegasus. The pony was so confused and startled that they slammed face-first into it, breaking something in the process. They landed in a bloody heap, grasping their shattered nose while groaning in pain.

Just as the group slowed to find out what was wrong, a rather eager, and angry old oak brought a limb down on another pegasi’s back. The blow was mighty, and though their armor was strong, the strike knocked the wind out of them. Sent into a wild, uncontrolled corkscrew, the mare slammed into a second tree before coming to rest belly up in a shallow puddle.

Panic immediately struck the group, who stopped for a moment to gather their bearings and check on their injured. I wanted to push this advantage, and crush a few of them so I sent out more pleas to the nearby vegetation. The oak was eager to break the back of the pegasus in the puddle but was stopped in place by a sharp whistle.

Quaking Yew had appeared out of nowhere and continued to blow her whistle for several more seconds. My already flimsy control over the nearby plant life fell away, and I was forced to merely watch. When the sound stopped, I pushed back but found my efforts stymied by a soft chanting from the deer. Like a wall erected against my influence, I couldn't even speak to the trees or look through their metaphorical eyes.

So I pulled back to my domain, covering my tracks as best as possible while I did so. I hoped that they would get lost, and potentially perish, but I knew that was wishful thinking on my part. The deer was a surprisingly adept tracker, and I had a feeling she was receiving assistance from the plant life as well.

Tree or bush, big or small. None in my domain will bend to the will of that witch. I declared, tightening my grip on my grove, and the forest beyond.

Sure enough, she and her band of assassins approached not long after. She spoke to the trees for nearly a minute, giving an impassioned plea, but received no response. Even the use of her whistle and an even more desperate request did not sway them, their boughs and branches firmly blocking the way. That seemed to be enough for the commander, as she ordered her soldiers to attack with a burst of magical fire.

Though I had seen this coming, it still enraged me to levels that I could barely even put into words. Even Rainy felt irritable and wanted to ask me what was going on, but I brushed aside her concern for the moment. I could ill afford the distraction, nor did I dare to take my attention off the invaders pushing their way into my forest.

Each step they took was a sacrilege, their hooves crunching the dead plant life they had killed a moment earlier. It was enough to almost make me lose all sense of reason and launch everything I had at them, but I held back. Putting a plan into motion, I urged the dragon skeleton into motion and began the strangest bit of multitasking I had ever attempted.

Trees parted, strength was given, redirected, and used to aid those caught in the path of the flame throwers. Though damaged, my efforts kept the fire from spreading any further than what was unavoidable. Managing so many trees, dead animals, and magic pushed my talents to their limit, but not so far as they broke.

For a moment it felt almost like I was home, on earth. My keyboard before me, my foes displayed on the monitor, and the chat eagerly baying for blood. I pushed that thought from my mind in order to better maintain my laser-like focus on the invaders.

They had gotten a good distance inside before I sprung my first trap, though they likely didn't see it as such. The trees unexpectedly parted, and they walked out onto an open area, talking about how they must have beaten me. The deer attempted to dissuade them from their brazen steps but was ignored by the commander and her squad.

Gotcha. I thought.

The ground opened up, revealing one of the pit traps I had covered but never destroyed. The earth pony that had been standing atop it plummeted into the earth and landed amidst the primitive spears. His enchanted armor held up and saved him from any harm, but I had seen that coming a mile away.

Rather than attempt to kill him with spikes, I collapsed the sides of the pit, burying him in six feet of dirt. Sure his allies tried to help, but digging through the slightly moist, heavy dirt as well as the roots that covered him was difficult. By the time they dug two feet down the pony had already stopped moving and by four feet he was as dead as a doornail.

By five feet, I brought him back, and pushed up, grasping through the layer of topsoil. I then heaved, pulling my new servant out from his grave, and refilling his lungs despite how unnecessary the action was.

“He's alive,” muttered one of the squad.

“Thank the sun,” added another.

“Wait. It might be him!” exclaimed the deer from atop the hole.

The unicorn standing next to me scoffed and gestured to me as I pulled the helm from my head.

“See? He's fine. The helmet saved him just like I said it wou-”

Whatever the unicorn had been about to say it was cut off when I pulled him into the grave and shifted atop him. In a single fluid motion I sunk my teeth into the soft flesh of his neck and used my bulk to cover his body. My mostly square, flat teeth didn't do a lot, but this pony was strong, even his jaw muscles were powerful.

So it wasn't so much that I tore his throat out, but that I collapsed his trachea in the process of trying to do so. His allies tried to save him, to kill my servant, but although the armor hadn't saved him in life, it had saved him in death. Spells bounced off, blades found no purchase, and only the heavy hooves of another earth pony could do anything to stop me.

Not like it mattered, as by the time he thudded into the grave, and tore me off my foe, the unicorn was already near death. His windpipe had collapsed, a good chunk of his neck had been removed and blood spurted out of the hole I had left behind. My newest servant was then tossed aside, and pelted with spell and hoof alike, the magic shaking my control.

I didn't hold on very hard however and released what control I had on the puppet almost immediately. Their victory was short-lived as I simply collapsed the pit a second time, though I knew this wouldn't work. Sure enough, the unicorns were quick to pull their earth pony ally out before he was buried alive.

That did leave them open, and I grabbed one of the unicorns with a winding vine around the leg. The pony’s scream was utterly delicious, as was the horrid yelling of her friends as the forest closed in around them. They tried to fight, to resist, but being dragged bodily across an unstable surface made it difficult to cast anything.

Her trip didn't last long, as I soon reached the patch of deathnettle. Dragging her unhelmeted face across the bush made dozens of deep scratches open up, allowing the toxin a potent vector. She made things worse by screaming and pulling herself away, increasing her heart rate even more.

By the time her allies burned through the woods and managed to reach her she was in the final stages. Bleeding from every orifice including her eyes, the mare scrambled desperately for aid, heedless to how little they could do for her. Healing magic was attempted, as was whatever strange power the deer had, both of which only drew out the inevitable, increasing her suffering.

It was a sad sight, but thankfully all the screaming covered the advance of the dragon which reached them just as the unicorn started to expire. The last thing the horrified pony saw was the glowing eyes of my servant as he bit the head off of a pegasus mare. Her armor’s enchantments flared, and I felt an unexpected resistance as I bit down, but it couldn't stop me.

“It's up there, get it!” screamed Honey Rays.

My dragon retreated, falling back behind an eager shrub, the magical bolt intended for it hitting the plant to no effect. Slipping into the woods, the enormous undead creature vanished in seconds, though the squad tried to chase it. Every tree, bush, and vine moved to stop them, giving my draconic servant more than enough time to disappear.

I didn't give them so much as a moment to gather themselves, however, as the deceased unicorn they had left behind now served a different master. With dagger raised, I commanded them to leap from a bush and attack Honey Rays. My attacks were sloppy, and my control of the unicorn was barely even complete at that moment.

What I lacked in grace, I made up in ferocity, my newest servant biting, stabbing, and otherwise attacking with everything they had. To my disappointment Commander Honey Rays was no pushover, and despite getting snuck up on, avoided most of my swipes. Receiving only glancing blows, she turned and with a twist, threw my unicorn servant into a bush. They were then pelted with magical fire while also having their bodies assaulted by Quaking Yew’s damnable whistle.

Sure enough, they collapsed in a heap a moment later, inanimate corpse tumbling to the ground. Though annoyed by this, I wasn't exactly surprised, so I began to calculate my next plan of action. A plan I was having to put into play a bit faster than anticipated, as Quaking Yews was using some kind of magic to clear a path.

Her hooves glowed a dark purple, and the chanting I heard from earlier returned, but darker, each word promising pain or death. This seemed to cause some dissent from Whispering Alder, but the other deer was quickly shouted down by the ponies. Whatever dark or forbidden magic she was using had an immediate and pronounced effect, however.

My trees bent, my bushes cowed, and the plantlife that had sworn themselves to me found their will’s broken. A thousand tiny screams ran up my networks, each one begging, pleading to be released from their bondage. Somehow this was worse than even the flame throwers, but I could do little to stop it at the moment.

The anger I felt returned, but it was crushed not by will, but by hopelessness. My dragon was powerful, but without any manner of cover, would not survive against all six of them alone. I had a few scattered undead servants and several hordes of buzzing insects, but that wasn't enough to turn the tide.

As I struggled to come up with a counter, I could feel the squad begin to draw closer to my grove. They avoided the pitfalls, both literal and metaphorical with ease, the plants telling Quaking Yews the location of my traps. I knew that this was not something these plants did willingly, but it still enraged me.

To think that the deer would stoop so low, and sink so far over something terrible yes, but ultimately something that was a mistake. A mistake that would not cost me my life, of that I was absolutely certain.

Fine. I thought. If I cannot rely on them, I shall use the most tried and true method I have at my disposal.

Summoning my swarms of insects, and other, lesser undead, I loaded them with toxic plants or other poisons. Every vile and deadly natural defense created by plants was stuffed into or splattered across the gathered horde. I then gathered them up just as the group was about to breach my grove proper, morale no doubt lifting.

I quashed this notion by raining undead corpses on them from nearly every direction. For a moment the sun was blotted out by the buzzing, screeching swarm quickly descending upon them. They panicked but had enough cohesion to form up around the sole remaining unicorn, who was using his fire spell. Quaking Yew’s whistle joined in, but even that mattered very little at this point. Whether they met their final death or not, my missiles would strike true and kill the interlopers where they stood.

A pegasi, too slow to get into cover, found themselves eating a face full of fist-sized beetles covered with blood moss. The unusual plant adhered to her flesh the moment it came in contact, burning away her skin. Screaming and clawing at her own melting features, the pony died a moment later when a sparrow covered in blowball fuzz hit her in the neck. On contact, the fluffy white spores got stuck in her fur, and rapidly took root, burrowing into the pony’s body. Within seconds her airways were clogged with spreading mycelium, and she died unable to breathe.

The last of the earth pony’s wielding hammers met their end at about the same time, his backside pelted by insects. Covered with a mix of buckthorn, and beggertick blossoms, the earth pony initially thought he was fine. Then he took a step and felt the jagged barbs work their way into his flesh and deposit their potent payload. All at once, nearly every nerve in his body came alive as if he were being electrocuted, sending him into the ground. He got off lucky, as the guy snapped his own neck during a particularly powerful spasm, dying before the poison could reach the next stage.

The others got off lucky, managing to dodge, or otherwise take no fatal hits that I could detect. A few got covered in ribleaf, or nostrix extract, but that alone wasn't deadly and caused only minor irritation. Quaking Yew, however, was hit by all manner of attacks but was completely unbothered by any of them.

Poisons capable of felling giants, toxins that should have sent her into shock, or eaten her from the inside out were ineffective. The impact of my undead hurt her and scratched at her skin but even the increased vectors for spread were not enough. It was as though she was simply immune to nearly every form of poison imaginable, annoying me profusely.

Regardless, I was down two more foes and had a few more seconds of swarm assault left before I had to let up. Using this cover, I raised the dead, working quickly while they were distracted by the stinging assault. The constant whistling weakened my control, but I didn't need to hold onto them for long in order to utilize them.

The pegasi and earth pony leaped back up and charged the only former ally slightly away from the group. The pegasus stallion was incredibly fast, agile, and able to use bursts of wind to keep the bugs from hitting him. He could not, however, stop his ex-wingmate from tackling him out of the air, hooves pinning his wings against his back.

Once they hit the ground, my earth pony puppet began pounding the living pegasus’ face in with his warhammer. Though fast, the stallion could barely move, and thus could barely dodge more than a single strike before getting the ground painted with his brains. I moved on quickly, throwing my newest puppets at Quaking Yews in an effort to distract the deer.

It worked somewhat, but I discovered that she could continue whistling even while dancing away from my strikes. Even trying to pincer her between my two servants did nothing, as she avoided every attack as if they had been the clumsy swings of a novice. I could almost feel her growing confident as the zombified ponies started to break down, their bodies dying once more.

Then an enormous skeletalized dragon burst from the underbrush and tried to bite her clean in half. Already in mid-air, the deer couldn't dodge, or at least that's what I had assumed anyway. She was still able to twist her body suddenly, trying to escape the jaws aiming to split her in half around the midsection. She couldn't avoid it entirely though, as her left forehoof dangled behind slightly, lagging just enough for me to bite down.

Razor-sharp teeth and more pounds of crushing force than a falling tree removed the deer’s leg completely. This finally caused Quaking Yew to stop her incessant whistling, but unfortunately, by then I had little left in my arsenal. My swarm was depleted, and my servants lay broken, save for the headless corpse, though its charge was stopped fairly quickly. Magical flames burnt away control, and then the rest of the zombie’s body, leaving behind little in the way of remains.

They moved to help Quaking Yew immediately, using a few spells and a medical bag to stop the worst of the bleeding. During this brief moment of downtime, I retracted the dragon, pulling it back to my grove proper. There I lay in wait, building up my defenses and preparing myself for the pony’s final assault.

An attack I knew was coming, not after they had come all this way and accomplished what they had. While I bided my time, I took a moment to push down my rage, burying it under a mountain of cold, calculating brutality. The anger of my grove, of my forest burned still, but even they found themselves swept up in my emotions.

Their wounds would be patched with the flesh of ponies, and their roots would drink deep of our foe’s blood.

I swore it.

Author's Note

This is part of the 12 days of christmas, head over here to keep track of all the cool stuff coming down the pipes. If you want to ensure I can afford to keep doing stuff like this, consider backing me over on Subscribestar or Patreon.

Lying In Wait

I waited patiently, sitting in my grove and planning out my strategy. I had few resources left, no servants save for my dragon, and Rainy, though I certainly wasn't going to involve a child in all this, not like it was even possible to do so, mind you. That being said, without any undead to call to my aid I began to wonder if this was going to be the end of it all.

Quaking Yew’s magic could turn my grove against me, while Honey Rays was quite adept at the destruction of my servants. I shrugged off such thoughts and focused on what I did have left, namely the plants both big and small that had pledged themselves to me. Their declaration of loyalty was not quite so straight forward as you may expect given the wording I just used however.

Rather it came with a whole host of strings, feelings, and words that were difficult to put in a way a normal creature could comprehend. For one though they fell under my command they did so out of self interest, though that was not a determinant. Trees have no concept of morality, or good and evil after all. Rather they gave themselves to me because I could and have given them much in the way of protection.

Now it was time to call in every favor I could, from the smallest bush to the largest of the old oaks that ringed the edge of my grove. Those eldest amongst my green council could not move quickly, their limbs hardened by decades or even centuries of life. I set these venerable elders to task, pointing out what stones near their roots were the loosest and easiest to throw.

The bushes poured the strength I had given them into sharpening their thorns, and lengthening their branches until they resembled whips. Those flowers and mushrooms that produced toxins readied as much of the potent payload as they could muster. Even the smallest of grassest hardened and grew sharp, acting as a million tiny caltrops ready to be tread upon.

At the back, standing before my true body and the enemy, was my draconic skeleton, acting as the final bulwark. The strange breathe based magic of his people were my final ace in the hole, one I hoped I did not need. I had not tested it much, using it mostly to speak over long distances, or conjure water when needed.

This would be my first true attempt at utilizing it offensively and I was not looking forward to it. I preferred either the dark word of poison or the more blunt application of physical violence. Trusting my safety to magic felt wrong for reasons I struggled to put to words.

My musings were interrupted by a sudden flash burning away a bush that had gotten in the way of the four remaining creatures. The earth pony was the first to emerge, his shield having been discarded at some point during the struggles. Next was commander Honey Rays accompanied by Quaking Yews, the deer’s missing limb somehow completely healed over.

The injury still clearly caused her no small amount of agony, but between magic, and her own will, she was holding on. Noone else sported so grievous a wound, but that did not mean they had emerged unscathed from it all. Everyone of them, even Honey Rays sported visible cuts, bruises, and dents in their formerly unblemished armor.

They stood there in the gap created by their blasphemous use of fire for only a second, quickly locating me across the grove. The moment their eyes landed upon my disquieting visage they lurched into motion, a command screamed from the lips of Honey Rays. Quaking Yew launched forward, whistling while hopping along on three legs, unslowed by her recent maiming.

With their meat shield leading the charge, the four survivors ran on, the lone unicorn loosing a spell from their back line. A fireball, conjured from not but a cinder flew from the tip of the caster’s horn and streaked across the grove directly at me. My lone servant stepped forward, and using its innate magic, loosed a torrent of summoned water from its maw.

This weakened the fiery attack but did not dissipate it entirely, its last remnants hitting my servant and exploring. The blast was small, but still sent white hot cinders in all directions, the tiny flames finding no purchase on my wet bark. The burst of steam created by the meeting of water and fire may have distracted some, but I did not see in the traditional sense.

My vision was gained by a nearly a hundred tiny undead insects perched atop the many branches of the grove. Able to view them from every angle at once, I saw how all but Quaking Yew charged behind the cloud of steam created by their spell. I didn't know who decided on such a plan but it likely wasn't the deer, as she strayed behind and slightly off to the side.

Regardless of who had said what, they had made their first mistake, and with a silent command I ordered the first volley to be loosed.

Focused as they were on me and me alone, the four attackers barely even noticed as rocks were fired at them. Tiny stones barely larger then raspberry were slung alongside small boulders pulled loose from the stone wall behind me. Big or small, they were all aimed directly at the earth pony at the very front, the unfortunate male finding himself pummelled from all sides.

A hunk of shale hit him in the eye, blinding the orb and causing him to stumble. A good chunk of the rest of the attack merely bounced off his armor, deflected by enchantments or simple steel. It could not stop all of it however, and a trio of rather large stones struck true, hitting him in the neck where his protection was weaker.

He fell to the ground, gasping and clawing at his throat, armor bent inward and stopping him from breathing. It was a decisive blow, but one that wouldn't prove fatal unless I could drive it home before he found medical help. I did this by aiming a small boulder at his head on his blind side, sending him sprawling out, face first into a pile of poisonous flowers.

The vile fumes of the strangely named yellow tree poppy worked quickly, causing his air ways to close even further, the stallion to quickly aspyhixiating. His allies were quick to try and help him, slowing their progress in the precise location I had hoped they would stop. The unicorn knelt down and lit their horn, working their magic in a hurried fashion, eager to get their comrade back up.

The mycelium running beneath the ground surged with energy, growing numerous fruiting bodies at my command. Seeing this, the rest of the squad retreated, though the unicorn didn't notice until it was too late. Millions of spores burst into the air, spreading enough of the deadly nerve agent to make escape all but impossible.

Quaking Yew attempted to assist with her perverse magic, and ordered the mushrooms to die, but they had done their work. The unicorn lay on the ground, experiencing the worst grand mal seizure imaginable to a mortal creature. She died at about the same time the pony she had tried to help did, the pair laying next to one another, twitching occasionally as their bodies shut down.

At this point, Quaking Yews, and Honey Rays were the only ones left, causing my confidence to surge, that was until they charged me. They had abandoned any hope of defence, and had even split up, with Quaking Yews going wide while the pegasus flew straight at me. Forced to choose between the more immediate threat, and the one circling around, I turned my dragon on the pony.

Though I had the size advantage, Honey Rays had enchanted magical armor, and a strangely unpleasant aura. Just being near her made my grip on the dragon become more tenuous, her presence slowing and damaging the undead. I had felt this before from her, but now it was increased through some unknown means.

Whatever had been done to her also made her armor glow a bright gold, the light from which stung my bark. It also provided considerable protection from my dragon, as its claws were turned aside despite the massive force behind the strikes. Even a cloud of black miasma conjured by the dragon’s breathe magic did not seem to injure the pegasus.

Who charged forward and used her wing blades to remove several boney extremities from the dragon. She didn't rest with removing a few fingers though and pushed forward, inside my servant’s guard. There she turned into a whirling dervish of blades, hacking off ribs, and hunks of bone with each swipe of her weapons.

I tried to crush her beneath the dragon’s weight, but with the grace of a dancer, she avoided the attack. She then pressed her advantage, and nearly severed the enormous lizard’s spine with a carefully placed swipe. Thankfully the naturally thick bones of the dragon turned the blade aside before it could essentially cut my servant in half.

Thankfully she had overcommitted, allowing me to slam the dragon’s tail into her midsection with enough force to send her flying. Landing in a bush near the edge of my grove, she tried to get back up, only to have the plant she was laying against to begin lashing her with its thin thorn covered limbs. I sent the dragon after her, intent on killing the pegasus, only to stop when I noticed that the other attacker had made her move.

Quaking Yews had appeared standing atop one of the cliffs near my central form, her whistle already blowing loudly. That same dark magic emanated from her, wrenching command of my grove from me. All at once I felt those deep connections I had created to the other trees begin to pull, draining me of my energy.

Forced against their will, they sapped me of my strength and weakened my ability to command them as well as my servant. I could sense immediately that there were few options open to me in that moment. I could not however, pull back my roots, or sever the ties that bound me to the rest of the grove and by extension the forest. We were held together too tightly to make that a possibility, leaving me with only a single avenue, remove the deer.

Charging at her with the dragon, I was intent on killing her quickly, or at least disrupting her slightly. I didn't get far before Honey Rays was upon me, removing one of the dragon’s back legs and causing it to fall to the ground. Now missing two limbs, my servant did not move quickly, and was forced to turn on the pegasus lest it lose another.

I instantly launched an all out assault on the commanding officer of the ponies, hoping to knock her out. Unfortunately for me I had lost a significant amount of my energy already and my servant was too slow to hit the weaving mare. Every swipe, every strike, and every attempt at magic either went wide or was too underpowered to do any real damage.

It was enough to make me really consider the possibility that I may perish here. My leaves were beginning to wilt, my bark was losing what little color it had and I could begin to feel hunger start to gnaw at my mind. The two pronged attack was working, and with little control over the grove, and my draconic servant, the walls were closing in.

Evidently Honey Rays seemed to think the same, as I could see the mare smirk from beneath her helmet. Somehow she was confident, even after losing every single soldier under her command. It was an enraging sight and I wanted to raise her deceased comrades and use them to beat her to death but I didn't have the magic necessary.

I was helpless, with no weaknesses to exploit or aces up my sleeve, save maybe their own overconfidence. A thought which made me realize that a few of the older, more stubborn trees refused Quaking Yews call. Using what little power I had left, I ordered a distant alder tree to fling the rock resting next to its base.

The venerable ancient shook violently, struggling against the many decades of growth that slowed its movements. Despite its age, it was able to reach down, pluck the stone from the earth and with all the force it could muster, throw it at Quaking Yew. However, the attack was dodged quite easily by the three legged deer who ducked under the projectile.

Exactly as I planned.

For the cliff she was standing on was not solid stone but rather an outcropping of loose shale. Something that wasn't readily obvious when you looked at it, but was plain to see when you had the instincts of a tree. The small boulder impacted the ground next to the deer and crushed what little held the cliff to the wall of stone.

Caught completely unaware, Quaking Yew couldn't jump out of the way before she was already caught in a landslide. Several tons of dislodged shale joined the many rocks into a roiling mass of debris that cascaded down towards the grove. The moment her footing was gone, her magic vanished and like a whip cracking back I felt control surge back to me.

Energy coursed through my form, immediately giving the dragon a burst of speed that caught Honey Rays unaware. The pony barely processed what had happened to her ally before she was suddenly slammed in the side by a tail whip. The attack wasn't overly strong, but was quick and sent the airborne pegasus into the trunk of a nearby tree.

The relatively young oak immediately wrapped its great limbs around her midsection and squeezed hard. Enchantments flashed, and metal groaned, the pony releasing a startled cry of srurpise as the tree compressed her. She wasn't completely out of tricks however, and with a muttered word, her armor flared one final time.

All of the magic used to maintain the enchantments exploded outward, blowing off one of the oak’s branches and freeing her. She then launched herself forward, but made it only a few feet before running face first into a wall of angry bone. The dragon caught her in mid air and with a titanic slam, smashed her into the ground with enough force to leave her embedded in the wet earth.

By then the brief rockslide I had caused ended, with Quaking Yew somehow emerging relatively unscathed. Battered, bruised, and injured, her strange deer dexterity had saved her from the worst of it though. Limping out from behind a boulder, I saw her sweep her gaze across the grove, searching for her ally.

I aided her search by pulling honey Rays up, and into view, a boney hand gripping the feathered appendages on her back. I then plucked her wings with a single jerk of my hand, taking no small amount of pleasure from the scream that ripped from Honey Ray’s throat.

“Doom, doom unto you vile creature!” Quaking Yew shouted. “You may have won the day, but I will return and when I do I will bring the fury of the sun with me!”

She then leaped into the shadow of an oak and disappeared from sight. I attempted to track her, but the whistle scrambled my insectoid servants as well as the senses of my plant neighbors. This enraged me, but I stifled my anger by reminding myself that although the victory was not total, it was still a victory.

Pinning Honey Rays back against the ground, I ignored her continued screaming mixed with cruses. I focused instead on my grove, and the trees that had gone against my will, their shame immediately evident to me. It was not shame as any creature of flesh and blood may know, but to me it was like a thousand whispered apologies.

My first urge was to punish them, to drain them as they had me, but I resisted that desire. They had been made slaves against their will, and I could not in good conscience impune them for a choice they did not make. Instead I merely allowed them to return what they had stolen, noting that they gave more then what they had taken.

The process took several minutes, but in the end I was returned to about the same level as I had been before this entire debacle begun. Still, it was nice to confirm that my assumption about the grove being like a battery was indeed a correct one. The hunger was gone, my leaves had returned to life and I felt as though I was back to a sort of normal.

“Now then,” I muttered through my draconic servant’s mouth. “What to do with you?”

I hefted Honey Rays from the ground and looked into her bruised and bloody face. Tears ran down her cheeks, an eye had swollen shut, and her breathing was hoarse, her chest unable to expand fully due to her dented armor. It was a far cry from the supremely confident pegasus that had so passionately declared she would end me only a few minutes ago.

“Celestia damn you,” she wheezed through broken teeth.

“It was not Celestia who damned me to this fate,” I replied before chuckling darkly. “Though I will be the one to damn you to yours.”

“Wait,” called a voice.

I turned to the source of the voice and saw that Whispering Alder had appeared beneath the shade of a Yew tree. Exhausted, and covered in sweat and grime, she was relatively uninjured save for a few scratches. Staring up at me with not hate, but caution, I felt a bit of the anger caused by her appearance to sputter and die.

“Forgive this foolish child of the day,” she called. “She does not know the forest or our ways.”

“What excuse does Quaking Yew have then, hmm?” I retorted.

That seemed to shake the deer more than anticipated, the elder’s face growing pale. “She has always been a dark child, prone to isolation and loneliness but… that is no excuse,” Whispering Alder murmured. “That doesn't matter now.”

“Oh, doesn't it?” I questioned.

“You should release me,” Honey Rays mocked. “I promise to never return here.”

I could sense the insincerity in her voice as clear as day and judging from Whispering Alder's expression, the deer could detect it as well.

“You are not helping, commander,” Whispering remarked. “Please be silent while I plead your case.”

“Ha,” Honey Rays wheezed. “This abomination is not so naive as to let me go. Though it hardly matters. In the end, my superiors know of my mission and know where I have gone. They will come, and when they do they will finish what I started.”

“That's quite enough out of you,” I remarked.

My servant then slammed her back into the ground and held her there, a cry of pain muffled by the mud she was now neck deep in.

Whispering Alder sighed. “I suppose it's pointless to ask that you spare this foolish creature.”

“You dare ask that I free her, even after you have seen what she has done to my grove, to my forest, and to my council of trees?” I retorted a bit louder than I had desired, gesturing toward the damage done. “She doesn't deserve to live, but that is lesser when compared to the debt she must repay to the forest.”

I stood straight and looked down my draconic nose at Whispering Alder. “And this debt will be repaid,” I declared. “With blood, and death.”

“I understand,” Whispering Alder murmured, bowing her head slightly.

Seeing such a display of supplication, I felt the last vestiges of my rage die. In response the canopy above the deer’s head opened, allowing light to enter the formerly pitch-black grove. I had barely noticed the change but clearly, the rest of the forest had felt my anger and had reacted empathetically, looming over the deer in shared frustration. I pushed that out of my mind however and urged the plants near our guest to retract their reaching limbs.

“I apologize for all of this,” I began. “I never intended on hurting anyone, and I hope that you can forgive me.”

There was a long pause before Whispering Alder raised her head. “The wound is too fresh to forgive so soon, but I believe that in time, I may be able to do so.”

“All I ask for is the opportunity to prove I am not the monster they make me out to be,” I replied.

"That is a fair thing to ask," Whispering Alder remarked, before turning and slowly trotting away.

I watched the deer go, noting that she didn't disappear from sight until she rounded a bend. Her little vanishing act was much more natural than Quaking Yews, as the elder deer simply ceased to be without any fanfare. Noticing that Honey Rays had stopped thrashing, I pulled her head out of the mud and allowed her to gasp for air.

“Say goodbye Honey Rays,” I exclaimed.

“I go now to my-” Honey Rays coughed and spat a wad of bloody mud at the ground. “I go to the warm embrace of Sol herself. Do not think you have done me a cruelty.”

“Foolish creature, Death offers no warmth, nor do I,” I replied.

I then turned and flicked her limp body at my roots, where she fell, crumpled into a bloody heap. Honey Rays started to rise fairly quickly, pushing herself upward using her one unbroken forelimb. She didn't make it far before I activated my magic and pulled. Her muttered grumblings of pain immediately turned into an unholy scream of utter agony.

Her skin slowly peeled off her body like old paint, coming off in small strips and sections. I did not consume her quickly, nor did I do so equally, focusing mostly on her extremities first. Muscle and tissue were pulled from her legs while she was left alive to cry out and give voice to the suffering I inflicted upon her.

Though I wished to torture her more, to return her cruelty tenfold, I stopped myself before I could continue any further. Another firm tug ended her cry, her internal organs liquifying and pouring out into the growing pools of viscera. A moment later and there was nothing left but the pony’s bones, and the broken remnants of her equipment.

I drank what had been Honey Rays with quiet ecstasy, savoring the taste of my former enemy and the many skills she had obtained in her life. The majority of which were fairly standard, with those being small unit tactics, upkeep, and repair of arms and armor. Tracking, leadership, camp maintenance, supply line management, flying, air combat, and the like were also there.

There were also several other skills that felt as though they didn't belong with the others. That being a long list of rituals that I knew existed for a religious purpose. They felt strange, doubly so since they were stripped of their context due to the nature of my skill-stealing ability.

I couldn't know why I would need to mix a lantern with the correct amount of oil, and lavender yet I knew how to do so. I also knew the necessary steps to ensure that the arms and armor of no more than five soldiers were blessed by the sun. In addition, I knew several prayers and incantations but they were incomplete as if they were half skill, half memory.

Regardless, it was clear that Honey Rays had been one part commander, one part inquisitor, and another part holy leader. It was an odd realization, but not one that was altogether surprising given what else I had learned about the ponies. This sect or cult of sun worshippers had many rituals, prayers, and things they had to do in order to ensure they stayed in their god’s good graces.

It was strange, but not surprising, so I put it out of my mind and commanded my new servant to rise. After she did so, I ordered the two others to do the same, silently a little disappointed that I hadn't had the chance to devour them so I could take their skills too. Unicorn magic would be particularly interesting, but that would come with time, for now, I had at least three new servants to join with the dragon and I suppose Rainy.

Wait, Rainy, I thought to myself.

Uncle Xathrid are you okay? Came the panicked thoughts of the foal.

I’m alright. I’m sorry for pushing you away. Some bad ponies attacked me. I replied.

That seemed to ease the child’s worry somewhat. That's good. Were they the mean ones in gold?

Yes. I answered.

There was a short pause before Rainy piped back up. Mister Pen Stroke is going to want to hear about this. He got very nervous when I told him you were fighting someone.

Just hold on a minute Rainy. I need to do some cleanup before I speak with them again. I replied.

Okay, but hurry. Everyone is giving me weird looks. Stated the foal somewhat nervously.

I chuckled to myself and made a note to not leave Rainy in the dark like that again, the young pony was clearly a bit unnerved. That would come later though, for now, I was bubbling with more energy than I knew what to do with and I had repairs to complete.

“Right,” muttered the dragon. “Let's get to work.”

Author's Note

Plumbing The Depths

Returning my focus to the grove, I found myself at a bit of a crossroads. The diamond dogs were a problem, but I needed to be ready for the thestral’s arrival. I needed to get down into the caves but I also couldn't bring anyone big with me. I also needed to remove the collars but I didn't know how.

Or did I?

I hadn't really given the possibility much consideration, as I had just naively assumed that removal was impossible. I sought to discover if that was truly the case and started that search by plumbing the depths of the dragon’s knowledge. I had a moderate experience when it came to piecing together bits of experience and memory at this point so if he knew how, I’d find it.

I was stymied relatively quickly though, as my increased familiarity with the memories of living creatures didn't help when he knew little. Enchantment was about as far from necromancy as possible, and add to that the possibility that his special method of casting spells and there was little overlap. If I didn't know a simple way of removing or negating the spell, that left only one possibility.

Cheesing it.

Popping over to Rainy, I found that she had left her body stuffed in a closet somewhere in the castle. Instead of bothering with walking around like normal, she was busy scampering about the abandoned homes in the body of the lizard. My initial urge was to reprimand her, but she literally couldn't be hurt so I allowed her curiosity to play itself out.

Inhabiting her body, I pushed open the door and after some walking found that I was near the mustering point for the thestrals. Here they gathered what meager supplies they had, and waited for the call to come down to move to my grove. I could see Rainy’s parents were busy helping out, so I didn't bother them, continuing my search for the pony in charge.

In this instance, it was Tall Order, the pony standing off to the side and reading a manifest of some kind. Evidently, he heard my approach, his ear twitching before he lifted his head and looked down in confusion.

“Xathrid. Do you have any news?” he asked.

“Sort of but first I was wondering how you knew it was me,” I replied.

The old stallion smirked. “You don't walk with the eager bounce of a child. Now then, I assume it's important?”

“Sort of. I was wondering if there were any dogs that died during the battle who did not have quite such a… dramatic end,” I inquired.

“Err yes, unfortunately. One of the dogs that had split off from the main group caught a spear to the gut and before we had the chance to assist him, he bled out. His body has been left near the cave entrance in the lower levels,” Tall Order answered, his gaze narrowing. “Why, do you wish to raise him?”

“No actually, or at least not entirely. I was hoping to test something. I’ll let you know more later,” I exclaimed.

“Alright then. Please do keep us all informed,” Tall Order called.

“Will do,” I answered, giving the old stallion a wave before slipping away.

Using my now diminutive stature, and the general way most adults ignored the presence of a child, I slipped back into the castle without being noticed. Delving deeper, I wound my way down winding staircases, and long hallways before finally coming to a halt at the very bottom step. There I retraced my steps to where the fight had gone down. There I located the dead dog, his face serene and peaceful despite how much of his midsection was stained red.

It was a grizzly sight, but one that I didn't linger on for long. Instead, I focused on his neck, namely the band of magically imbued metal that wrapped around it. I could feel that there was indeed lingering energy maintaining the wards, but it wouldn't last long anyway.

“Curious,” I muttered aloud.

I had assumed that the enchantments would fizzle the moment he died, yet they did not, only slowly losing power. This made me wonder if the spell fed off the dog’s life force in some way, or if there were other factors at work. With Rainy’s limited magical senses, I couldn't deduce much more, though I still deemed it a success.

Rainy dear. Please spend a bit of time with your parents. I thought.

Oh okay. I was getting bored of being a lizard anyway. Rainy replied.

I shook my non-existent head and retracted my consciousness to the grove where I searched for the fallen dog I had captured. He had been napping in a bush last I checked, though I couldn't remember which one I had placed him in. After a bit of searching and a moment of panic, I found the bugger still unconscious but otherwise unharmed.

By then, the dragon’s form was still not quite complete, the plants needed more time to work, but that was fine. I brought him over to the dog and had him inspect the enchantment a little closer utilizing his more advanced senses. I still didn't quite understand why these senses carried over after death, but I wasn't about to contemplate that particular mystery at the moment.

Sure enough, I found what I was looking for, a sub-enchantment that monitored whether or not the target was alive. I couldn't mess with it in any way without causing catastrophic harm, but I didn't really need to either. Deathless Slumber was a spell the dragon knew well, for some reason, the effect of which was about what you may have thought from the name.

It, in essence, killed the target, but not really, as it held the spirit while the body was locked in a sort of stasis. The creature would then remain ‘dead’ for a set amount of time before the spell expired, and the target came back to life. The spell had plenty of limitations, like how the target could not resist in any way, they had to already be asleep, they couldn't move, and a bunch of others that were mostly redundant but did make things more complicated.

Thankfully all that didn't matter as he was just lying there, unable to do anything but occasionally grunt or twitch. I wasn't exactly eager to try the spell on him, so I tried to think of some other possible solution. When that turned out to be fruitless, I decided to gamble with the dog’s life and begin the process.

The dragon leaned down, and inhaled or at least mimed the action of doing so anyway. Either way it took effect, with the dog gasping it's last breath, only to stop midway. The dragon exhaled a greenish mist that traveled up the dog’s nostrils and took root in his lungs. There it glowed faintly before fading leaving the dog completely still, body stiff, but not dead.

I glanced at the enchantment and noticed that sure enough, something had clicked inside of it. It was off, and once it ran out of internal power, it would shut down completely. When that finally happened the thing would be an inert band of metal, and would be easily removed. It wasn't exactly an expedient solution to my problem, but it was an effective one that didn't require anyone to die.

All I needed to do now was find the dogs, bring them to the surface where the dragon could reach them and their collar problem was null and void. To get there I would still need to explore the caves, figure out what was going on and judge the enemy's strength. To that end, I summoned a few undead squirrels I had managed to scrounge up while I had been contemplating the collar situation.

They had been long dead and completely devoid of nutrition but that's not what I cared about them. They could serve as three diminutive sets of eyes with which to explore the deepest reaches of the caves below. I wondered briefly if they would make for a good place to mine in the future but dismissed that for the moment.

I would figure that all out later. Right now I had a mission to accomplish, and so I set my three little squirrels to work. Alongside them I sent the undead earth pony under my command, the skeletal creature taking up the rear of the strange troop. With the tiny rodents taking the lead, they quickly reached the blocked passage that lay down deep beneath my roots.

It wouldn't take much for me to pull apart the entire mound of debris, but that wasn't my goal, at least not yet. Worming a single large root through the mess, I created a space just large enough for my scouts to slip through. Retracting the woody appendage allowed the squirrels through and for my plan to truly be set into motion. But, while they moved, I started subtly shifting things around so that at a moment’s notice, I could remove the entire blockage and allow my other undead through.

I didn't focus on that at the moment though, instead shifting my attention down to the squirrels as they worked their way through the cave. Narrow, winding, but angled in a downward direction, I could tell that this section was at least mostly natural. That soon began to change though, as after a few minutes I came across the upper limits of what seemed to be a mine of some kind.

The tunnel I was currently in narrowed significantly, at the end of which lay a small narrow opening just large enough for a pony to squeeze through. Beyond that, the tunnel became wider, taller, and far more uniform, the signs of recent work being visible everywhere. It was clear that the initial tunnel was natural, yet there were some signs of someone having taken a pick to it at one point.

That was a mystery for another time, so I pushed it from my mind and kept on moving, keeping my squirrels spread out slightly. I enjoyed the multiple angles they gave me to inspect my surroundings, and the increased number of eyes helping me piece things together. It was odd to think I was so used to this kind of thing already but hey, people are adaptable even when they get turned into trees.

The path ahead diverted not far, though the tunnel to the left was wide enough to allow a mine cart to pass through it with ease. This seemed to be the plan as further in that direction I could see piles of discarded tracks waiting to be laid. Off to the right, things were more natural, with only the ground having been flattened to allow more comfortable foot travel. Looking at them both, I chose to go right even though I could have easily gone in both directions at once.

I was immediately glad I had done this, as I was almost instantly greeted by a rather shocking sight. Before me lay a long and clearly ancient wooden bridge that went out over a large circular pit that went down for several stories. At the center, there was a large collum of what looked like marble that went from bottom to top and supported the bridge. Around the edge of the hole lay the winding track that circled lower and lower before vanishing down a path that lead north.

There were smaller break-off tunnels that occasionally connected to the main track and even what looked like a hastily constructed camp. Scampering across the bridge, I could hear what sounded like the distant thump of footsteps, along with someone barking orders. I decided to abandon my scouting for the moment and snuck my way down to the bottom floor.

Along the way, I saw grim-faced dogs plodding downwards, mining equipment held loosely in their grip. Around their neck was the same collar I had become so familiar with, while on their face they wore the expression of men walking to the gallows. It tugged at my heartstrings, but I ignored them for the moment, focusing on staying out of sight, and keeping to the shadows.

At the second level, I found a natural underground creek that threatened to spill out over the side of the pit but was blocked by a grated hole. Peering down through the bars, I noticed that the water was allowed to collect at the very bottom level. There a slightly raised section could be seen jutting off from the side, just high enough that it wasn't in danger of getting flooded.

I looked around and found that unfortunately there was only a single way down to that bottom level. It was also currently occupied by a long line of dogs which would surely spot me if I tried to move among them without cover. I contemplated my problem for a moment, only to nearly smack my tiny rodent faces when I realized the solution.

I was three piles of bones so light that they nearly floated when dropped.

With that in mind, I leaped into the gentle but constant flow of water and allowed my squirrely forms to land in the shallow pool below. Given that I was so light, and barely had any surface area, the sound my impact made wasn't even audible over the burble of the water. Extracting my squirrels was also easy, and soon I was on the ground floor, with my target directly ahead.

My curiosity got the better of me though, as I began inspecting the bridge that allowed the tracks to wind into a tunnel only a few feet above me. I clambered up the supports and followed them to the tunnel, where I found that it split in two directions. One was obviously intentional as that's where the tracks continued off, but there were warning signs posted as well as a glowing magical barrier.

The words weren't in a language most would understand, but the dragon was not most creatures. I felt recognition, but I couldn't recall what the piece of wood was saying, only the feeling I got when I looked at it. Fear, this was a warning, but of what I couldn't know for certain, and there weren't any other obvious clues lying around. The tunnel beyond looked normal, though up ahead a hundred yards in, a wall had collapsed, partially obscuring the rest of the tunnel.

As for the other pass, it was far newer and was also angled upward, likely going to whatever camp they had in the area. Realizing this, I decided to split my three squirrels, sending one back the way I came, the other to the barrier, and the final one upward. The first to reach its target was the strange magical barrier erected over the tunnel with the collapsed section.

I noticed immediately that whoever had first built this place had erected the wall as the markings were clearly ancient. The enchantments were also placed on runes that were antiquated in the extreme and mostly forgotten as they were prone to failure. Other than that, I couldn't recall anything else about the magic itself so I started inspecting like a human, which meant the first thing I was going to do was poke it.

I was surprised to find that I was able to pass right through, and nothing even happened to me. No alarms blared, no rocks fell, and I didn't get shot by some unseen trap either. It clearly wasn't intended on holding me back, though I couldn't tell if that was because I was undead, or if I was a squirrel or what.

Either way, it allowed me to continue on to the next area, though in the meantime I shifted to the other squirrel. He was currently peeking out from the shadows of some debris and watching as a group of dogs gathered near a mound of gold ore. The area was the one set off to the side at the bottom floor, where I noticed another smaller passage leading deeper. I couldn't go over there, however, as everyone was facing that direction as if waiting for someone.

Weaseling my way a little closer, I started picking up some of the half-muttered conversations going on.

“Think this is it?”

“Might not be. They still need someone to haul all this gold back.”

“If it's true and our fearless leader’s cohort is missing, we’ll probably get culled just in case.”

“He wouldn't do that. We still have some value to him.”

“Your naive.”

“I am not. He might be evil but- augh.”

The dog contorted as the collar shocked her to the ground, punishing the poor creature for her poor word choice. I pitied them all immensely and kept listening but didn't learn anything new from my spying. They were waiting for the solar scout to emerge and give them their new orders now that the team nearby had been slaughtered.

Once more, I shifted my focus, this time back to the first squirrel which had reached the hole in the wall. Peeking into the gap I could see that it opened into a cave, one that was filled to the brim with a black sedimentary rock of some kind. It came in layers and seemed to break off relatively easily as chunks of it littered the ground and gathered in clumps.

Picking up a small piece I noticed that it left behind a black residue on my tiny fingers. I dropped it with a clunk, and looked around again, realization dawning in my mind. This was coal, all of this was coal, and it had likely been cordoned off because the shifting which had caused the collapse and also released a ton of methane.

Silent, deadly, and odorless, I had learned about it during a school trip into an old coal mine, or at least I think that's where this knowledge came from. Regardless, it was likely in vast enough supply here to wipe out nearly everyone in the caves since it had been building up for centuries or maybe longer. Either way, it would have to be something I would have to watch out for, or use, though I wasn't sure I wanted to do that quite yet.

Switching focus once more, I went topside to the other squirrel and found that the tunnel did indeed go to the surface. The passage going there was long, and winding, and emerged in a shallow glen just outside the range of my current grove. The digging work was slapdash, and poor, meaning I could likely collapse the entire thing with minimal effort if I wanted to. That too was something I contemplated but didn't act on quite yet, rather I checked the camp for any clues.

There was only a single disassembled tent as well as a few supplies tucked away half hidden under a rock. He had done a good job cleaning up after himself, but a squirrel’s eye for detail was above that of a pony. I could spot where he had made a fire, where he had likely relieved himself, and where he had most frequently walked.

Pulling out his things, I searched around for letters, or any kind of personal effects but found only a single piece of paper. One written in a strange code that caused the words to flee my vision each time I focused on them. It wouldn't help at the moment, but I hid it in a tree for later retrieval and eventual decoding.

Summoning the squirrel back down into the mines, I shifted my focus around while I waited for something to happen. I recalled the earth pony skeleton, then cast ventriloquism on him just in case I needed to talk to someone, then I sent him back. Along the way, I shifted the debris out of the way and had the undead work his way into the mines at a slow, cautious pace.

While this was happening I was trying to devise a plan of some kind only to be interrupted by the appearance of a new pony. Haggard, and disheveled, he wore the armor of the solar guard, though he kept his helmet belted at his side. He had appeared from the side passage I noted earlier, emerging before the gathered dogs and looking at them with disgust.

“I know none of you care, but the squad is likely dead,” he remarked tiredly. “Though I can tell some of you want to celebrate, I wouldn't do so quite yet.”

He began to pace back and forth in front of the gathered crowd of dogs, wings fluttering at his sides. Annoyed and anxious, his youthful face was easy to read even at a distance and through the eyes of a squirrel.

“My orders in case of just such an event are clear. I am to retreat, but not before removing all evidence of our presence, starting with you,” he continued.

“You can't do that!”

“We did everything you asked!”

“Silence!” shouted the stallion. “I don't like it, but we all must do our duty to the burgeoning empire. Mine is to run, and yours is to die.”

“Wait!” I had the skeletal earth pony shout from two floors up, his voice purposefully altered to make finding his location impossible. “I have a question.”

“What, who said that? Come out here this instant!” yelled the earth pony.

“To the diamond dogs below, if you were to die here and now, would you consent to being raised from the dead?” I pressed.

“To the dog hiding above me, die! I order you to die!” shouted the stallion.

I had the squirrels set upon the wards, their tiny claws tearing through the ancient stone with relative ease.

“Answer, quickly!” I continued.

“I consent!”

“Me too!”

The voices soon became numerous, with nearly every single dog sticking up their hand or shouting that they consented. While this was happening, I scratched away the second rune and noted that the barrier flickered once before vanishing. The air pressure change was immediate, my squirrels were able to sense a rushing of air pushing past them in a wave.

“No, you're not a dog. You must be that necromancer they were looking for,” murmured the stallion in horror. “And if your alive, and my team isn't…”

“I speak through the mouth of your kin, solar scout,” I spat. “Like you, he was a monster who sought to genocide the thestrals, enslave the diamond dogs, and generally do awful things to everyone he met.”

“We are restoring the natural order,” he retorted, spinning around in search of the source of my voice. “The thestrals should not be, and these creatures are barely above animals, to begin with. Do we cry when the cow is caged or the dog collared? No.”

“I do,” I replied. “They are thinking creatures, and should have the chance to choose their own destiny.”

One of the dogs keeled over and hit the ground, followed by a second. More were clutching their heads, and wheezing, unable to breathe properly.

“I am not,” the stallion paused and began to cough violently. “What… what is happening? My armor should defend against any of your magic!”

“This isn't magic,” I replied simply. “Just good old-fashioned methane poisoning. Sorry, by the way, I wanted to make this quick but it seems you all are a bit hardier than anticipated.”

A good third of the dogs dropped dead during my little explanation, and more were joining them with each second. The rest would join them soon, as they were visibly panicking, and were in the advanced stages of methane poisoning. Dizzy, weak, confused, and twitching, the dogs went through all the symptoms in short order.

“Methane, you mean the bad air,” muttered the stallion, falling to one knee and clutching his head. “That shouldn't be possible. The barrier was up.”

“Well, not anymore. Now then, any last words?” I asked.

As if on cue, the last two dogs dropped dead, leaving only me and the now spasming stallion.

“I hope you-” the stallion began, only to suddenly wheeze and collapse forward.

“I’m going to assume you were about to say something rude,” I remarked to no one in particular. “But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and tell everyone you wished me a pleasant afternoon.”

I chuckled at my own joke while walking over to the pile of corpses and looking over them all.

“Now then, let's start dragging you back,” I muttered to myself.

Author's Note

Lending A Paw

Hauling them all up to the surface wasn't too difficult, especially given the fact that my servants were unsleeping, unflinching zombies. Without the need for rest, I could set up a fairly decent system where each was dragged up to a point and then passed off to the next set of hands. Though I didn't have many servants at that moment, the dragon was more than strong enough to pick up the slack.

To make things a little smoother, I grabbed the dead solar scout and added him to my ranks, consuming his flesh and leaving naught but bones. He was delicious but netted me very little in the way of new skills or abilities. He was clearly the bottom of the totem pole, and more annoying still, he had no idea how to unscramble the note.

I will have a chance to remedy that, later. I thought to myself.

While I contemplated methods to get the hidden info I desired, my servants finished bringing the last of the dead to the surface. Numbering nearly forty, they were more numerous than first anticipated, I had a feeling that there were more out there. For one there were no thestral slaves, or bodies even for that matter. Sure they could have dumped them somewhere, but then why abduct them at all if they were just going to kill them immediately?

I had more tunnels to explore, and more dogs to question, but first they had to quit being dead. To that end I gathered them all up and assessed the damage raising them would reak on my stockpile of energy. It would be significant, but I had made a promise, and with their consent given I’d probably just barely make it all back. Either way, the damage to myself would be minimal at best, so I pushed my worries from my mind and got to work.

Acting through the dragon I worked my magic on one of the dogs at a time, though I stopped right before completing the final spell. It would take but a single push and the dominoes would fall, raising them as well as enacting the same protection I had used on Rainy. I waited until after I had completed my work on all of them before I hovered my nonexistent finger over the nonexistent button.

Before I brought them back, I sensed the approach of many individuals. The thestrals had moved swifter than anticipated, either that or I had been distracted longer than I thought. Either way, they were still an hour or two away at this point, so I had time to finish what I had planned before they arrived.

“Arise, my friends,” I commanded, lifting the dragon’s right claw high.

A pulse of magic accompanied the action, triggering the various spells and charms I had placed upon the dog’s corpses. As one they twitched, life returning to their forms while energy was spent and exchanged from them to me. In the end, I was happy to find that I was actually slightly better off than before, though I could feel a strange sense of exhaustion creeping up on me. This had taxed my reserves, and though I still had ample stock left, it was taking more strength than what should be necessary to call upon them.

Once more I brushed my musings aside, and focused on the ground before me, watching as the dogs began to stir.

One rose and began to look blearily at his surroundings, others just lay there, staring up at the sky. I could sense their panic and chose to dull it slightly, not wanting anyone to start freaking out. Thankfully that didn't happen, and I could see that recognition was sparking in the eyes of the newly returned dogs.

“Were… were alive,” one muttered.

“Not quite,” I had the dragon remark.

All eyes turned to the moss-covered monster I had hidden in the nearby trees. Their fear was immediate, but I made sure to keep it in check, at least for the moment anyway. That fear morphed into true understanding, as the dogs began to recall their final moments. Though I could keep panic averted forever if I wished, manipulating the emotions of these creatures for an extended period was not something I desired.

“As you can tell, you are undead,” I continued. “I know some of you did not give your consent to being raised, and you may rescind that consent at any time, I merely thought you may wish to say goodbye.”

Noone initially moved, but I could tell a few were dead set on dying a second time the moment they had spoken their piece.

“Though I know you know my name, I will introduce myself regardless. I am Xathrid,” I continued, making the dragon gesture back to my true body. “Though you are technically under my control, I swear to never make any attempt to infringe on your freedoms as a thinking, feeling creature.”

With that, I released any lingering control I had on their emotions, allowing them to process things as they desired. Murmured conversations were had, and though I could easily eavesdrop, I allowed them their privacy. Merely observing them, I noted that they were each dealing with their situation quite well, given everything that had happened to them.

“How… how did I die?” Someone asked.

“Memories of your death are fuzzy, and will likely never return, but to answer your question, methane poisoning,” I replied.

“I think that's probably for the best. I have a feeling it wasn't the most pleasant end,” someone else added.

A tall, slender female dog stepped forward, her mind already stirring with thoughts of compassion for her fellows. She looked to have been half-starved when she was alive, as I could see her jutting ribs. Her fur was grey, and a small tuft of black sprouted from the top of her head, all while her emerald eyes gazed unflinchingly at me.

“What about the others? There was more of us being held somewhere nearby,” she asked.

“I could not drag that information from the mind of your former captor,” I answered, puppeting the dead solar scout and giving the group a wave. “Though I have confidence that with your help we will find, and free them before anything bad happens to them.”

“Does anyone else know where they might be?” asked the female leader dog.

The others shook their head or looked away sadly. A few seemed to be wracking their memories for information but were coming up empty. Given the complete lack of recognition, I felt from the lot, I knew the answer was likely no, but I allowed them to keep thinking anyway.

“We should start searching soon. They will likely get stuck doing whatever they were last ordered to do until they die of thirst,” remarked the female dog.

“There will be time for that very soon,” I interrupted. “For now I’d like it if those who wish to depart would say their goodbyes.”

“Actually can that wait a bit?” replied the leader dog. “I know that more than a few among us had friends and family amongst the other group.”

“Fair enough,” I answered.

I wanted to slow things down, to hear their stories, and simply converse with them but I stymied that urge quite deliberately. Pushing it down deep, I recalled my other servants and started to think of how best to locate their missing companions. It was at this point I realized that I felt… not smarter, but quicker, my mind moving faster as if the extra brains at my disposal gave me increased processing power. It was noticeable with the animals, and the few other undead, but now it was pronounced to the point that it was undeniable.

“I feel a plan already forming in your mind, and I approve,” I stated. “But before you go, I would like to hear your names.”

“Alerund.”

“Bolinald.”

“Ramliel.”

“Yarodeck.”

“Nelach.”

And more were shouted, their faces being committed to memory alongside their names. I made mental note of who were on a temporary leave of unlife, and who were committed to their new existence. Though it was all quite interesting, I was waiting expectantly for the leader, who was quiet until all others had spoken.

“Tarashar,” stated the leader dog. “Formerly of the thirty-second outriders.”

“Interesting,” I remarked. “I would love to hear more of your history and people but I know you have desires elsewhere and I would not stand in the way.”

I had my servants gather up what crude supplies I had at the present and begin mustering at the edge of the grove.

“I will impart upon you what knowledge I have the area, with the hope being that you will locate your wayward companions,” I continued, doing so just after I had informed them as such. “I know this connection is a strange one, but please do not panic. You will get used to it.”

A few murmured disagreement, while most seemed unbothered by it. I could tell from their surface thoughts that they were simply appreciative of the utility it gave them. This seemed true for the majority of the dogs who were practical to a fault to begin with and likely had only become more so since their return to life.

“Split into three groups,” Tarashar ordered, pointing from individual to individual. “We will check the places Xathrid has marked for us first, from there we will expand in a grid-based pattern for ten miles. If that accomplishes nothing we will have to try and dig through the rubble of the tunnel in the castle basement.”

Three parties were formed in no time at all, my undead solar scouts accompanying them in this task. Split across the squads, I had hope that their weapons would remain unneeded and that no harm would befall the dogs. Only time would tell, however, so I focused on watching them go, my undead taking the lead at the front of the various packs. Throughout it all, I occasionally caught Tarashar glancing in my direction, a swirling miasma of questions and concerns filling her mind. She wanted to talk, to grill me but was unwilling to speak mentally with me, the dog too unnerved by the mere thought even to entertain the notion.

I made a mental note to set aside time and really talk with her, but that would have to come later. For now, I could sense that a relatively large group of mostly thestrals had entered my forest. Though they walked mostly without fear, I could sense that there were some among them who were terrified. Their frantic steps and nervous shifting sent ripples through the network of green that covered my domain.

Getting eyes on them, I found that they were a motley crew, and not the one that I had been assuming would arrive. There were a few thestrals I recognized in their number, namely Pen Stroke as well as a few others but the rest were new. Not just new, but clearly not from around here, as they carried with them large saddle bags stuffed with supplies.

Checking in quickly with Rainy, I could tell from a glance around her that the rest of the thestrals had only just departed. With Tall Order at their helm, and the deathguard watching their back, they were making slow but steady progress. This group, I summarized, must have flown here, and must have met up with the ragtag group of survivors that were only supposed to be here in a few days.

My thoughts were cut off by the realization that there was a solar scout in their mix, not just one either but an entire squad. Though not nearly as decked out as the others I had crossed, they had the same style of armor and weapons. Even the eyes of my undead bugs could tell that the enchantments were not as strong, and their equipment not as high caliber.

Border guards, or a wayward patrol, I thought to myself. Yet the thestrals weren't keeping them at knifepoint, so clearly they weren't prisoners. Deserters most likely, I figured.

It was at that point that I realized that I could simply ask, so I focused on my connection to the green and politely made a request. In response, the trail the thestrals were using, widened, and the various poisonous or offensive plants retreated. The thestrals were not surprised, but the rest panicked, closing ranks, with the solar scouts taking the outer guard.

They are trusted, I noted. Clearly, there was a story there, one I was eager to hear. Thankfully the thestrals calmed them down, and soon they were moving once more but I could tell they were unnerved. The solar scouts kept their weapons close and their heads on a swivel, but I didn't mind. If Pen Stroke trusted these fellows, then so would I, besides, I was the one with an enormous undead dragon on my side.

Sure enough, they made their way to me in short order, quicker now that the passage was widened and they didn't have to watch their step for poisonous mushrooms. The first to enter, was predictably, Pen Stroke, the thestral striding confidently into the grove as a sort of show of safety to the others. This seemed to do the trick, as the rest followed right after him, gawking silently at the canopy of green that nearly blotted out the lingering rays of sunlight.

A sun, I noted, which was falling low in the sky at this point. Evidently, my little adventure had taken longer than anticipated, as I had completely lost track of time. Not like it mattered, so I put such middling concerns from my mind and focused on my newfound visitors.

“Welcome,” I began, the plant-covered dragon rising from his spot directly in front of my main body. “To my grove. I am Xathrid.”

That caused another brief stir, but I also saw recognition stir in their eyes, meaning Pen Stroke had forewarned them. Though clearly, they had not been expecting what they now saw, as they looked equal parts confused and terrified.

“What is this Pen Stroke? I thought you said that this was a ghoultree. Not a ghoul dragon… thing,” muttered one of the solar scouts who was bold enough to walk beside Pen Stroke.

“It seems as though Xathrid has planted a new garden,” Pen Stroke remarked.

“Yes, I thought to decrease the spookiness factor of my primary servant,” I answered. “What do you think? Better or worse than bare bones?”

“It's much nicer,” Pen Stroke replied, sounding slightly relieved. “The old visage was a grim sight and not one I wished to gaze upon.”

“Do you like the flowers I planted in his eye sockets?” I pressed, wiggling the dragon’s head. “I thought it was a cute touch.”

“Flowers, cute touch. You are not what I expected,” muttered the solar scout.

I noted that the others behind him were begging to relax, and spread out, some sitting down while others made their way to the pond.

“It should be safe to drink, though it probably won't taste very good at the moment. I haven't had the chance to plant any mint or tea plants,” I commented.

The various creatures took note of my warning and seemed to appreciate my words. As they shed their packed gear I was able to note that there were crystal ponies, and kirin in their midst. Or at least I assumed so, as my knowledge was mostly stolen from the dead, and I had never met any myself yet. Either way that was a concern for later, and I looked down at a slightly awkward, yet still grinning Pen Stroke.

“I hope that you didn't have too much trouble recently,” Pen Stroke remarked.

“No, why?” I asked back.

Pen Stroke gestured to the drag marks and spots of blood on the ground from where I had laid the diamond dogs.

“Oh, that!” I exclaimed. “Long story short, I found some of the diamond dogs and the rest of the solar scout squad. The scout culled all the diamond dog prisoners, but I brought them back, and avenged them by slaying their slayer.”

The solar scout present winced visibly, and seemed uncomfortable, but didn't make a move to leave. He had a spine, that much was certain, though how much spine I would soon find out. Before then though, I took note of his rather unique appearance.

He had fur the shade of freshly cut wheat, and his mane was rather fittingly, the shade of freshly cut grass. The guy screamed farmer, and this was made doubly apparent by the fact that he was an earth pony. He also sported a cutie mark that was literally just a bucket full of apples, or a bushel, If I remembered correctly.

The rest of his squad was close on his heels, the majority of which shared a few similarities with him. The closest was a female with bright red hair tied into a pair of braids, who had light green fur that bordered on becoming blue. Next was a silently glaring mare who like the leader, and the previous female, was also an earth pony. She had a curly mane of gold, with fur a few shades lighter and green eyes. Last but not least was yet another female who had a brown coat, and a light brown mane, she was busying herself with the others by the pond at the moment.

“I am glad at least that they cannot hurt any others now,” he concluded finally.

“Did they use those vile collars?” asked the red-haired one, anger evident in her voice.

“Unfortunately,” I answered.

The pony turned and spat on the ground. “Good riddance,” she declared.

“Now dear they were still ponies,” the leader replied in a low tone.

“Once they sink that low, they are no longer ponies,” declared the red-haired girl.

“Speaking of not being a pony,” picked up the curly-haired pony who had been glaring at me. “How can we trust you? You're not a pony, heck you ain't a flesh and blood creature.”

“Well I at least have a name, and the courtesy to introduce myself when acquaintances are made,” I shot back.

“Where are my manners?” declared the leader. “I am Bushel, this is my wife Candy Apples.”

He paused and gestured to the one who had spat earlier, and who was already in my good books.

“My sister, Caramel Apple,” he continued, pointing to the glaring one with the curly mane. “And finally, Mjolna.”

The brown pony stopped to wave briefly at me before going back to unloading supplies.

“We are deserters from the border. Our job was originally just to serve as border guards, but after the hooplah with the griffons began we were assigned to be the reinforcements for the uh… folk you killed,” he explained, stumbling a bit at the end.

“Interesting, why would you dessert anyway? You seem like a family man, or stallion I should say,” I pressed.

“Oh I’d like to be, but the truth is the rest of our folks ain't around no more, and well we saw what they were doing to those diamond dog critters,” Bushel continued.

“Such barbaric behavior is not what I signed up for,” stated the red-haired one.

“Yeah, it ain't right. Stealing people’s life forces and making slaves of em and all,” spat the fluffy-haired one, who I was starting to be annoyed by.

“Well it's a good thing the only ones to make slaves are the ponies with golden armor,” I shot back.

To her credit, the mare didn't back down, earning her a few more brownie points in my book.

“Let's not get into that at the moment there Mel,” interrupted Bushel.

“Whatever,” muttered Caramel, trotting away to assist the others.

“Well, then I’m glad that didn't get any more heated,” Pen Stroke declared.

“They can meet and chat with those I have brought back once they return with the rest of the diamond dogs. For now, feel free to make yourself at home,” I exclaimed. “It ain't much at the moment, but the caves should be comfortable, and you’ll have plenty of food.”

“Hmm, gonna need to set up something a little better eventually,” Bushel muttered, looking around the area as if he were sizing up a spot to place a house. “Ain't much arable land round here either.”

“There is plenty nearby,” Pen Stroke interrupted. “Further to the south there is a great plain that seems to be a perfect spot for a farm, and it isn't that vast a distance from Xathrid’s forest.”

“Let's not call it that,” I interrupted. “I don't want to get a big head over it ya know. Plus it's not my forest, it's our forest.”

“Well I ain't much for namin things, so I think I’m gonna take this chance to curl up somewhere quiet and catch a few z’s. It was nice meetin you, Xathrid,” Bushel exclaimed, waving before trotting off.

“Yes, I look forward to speaking to you further, soon,” Candy Apples declared.

That left Pen Stroke and I alone for the moment.

“Not a bad bunch,” I stated earnestly.

“Yes, we certainly are glad they defected, and not only because it sped things up a little for the others,” Pen Stroke muttered somewhat absently.

“So, what's this about griffons?” I inquired.

“Apparently they are raiding the eastern fringes in earnest. Likely emboldened due to the recent chaos,” Pen Stroke answered. “Worse yet for the equestrians, the northerners are revolting. Apparently, some kind of religious clampdown has caused a schism amongst them. I don't know the details, but our crystal pony friends may.”

I glanced over at them and noted that they seemed intent on simply getting some food in their bellies, and some rest for their bones.

“I’ll ask them later,” I offered.

“Wise,” Pen Stroke murmured.

“Some of them have been hiding, and marching for months to escape Celestia’s gaze,” Pen Stroke added.

“Interesting,” I paused and turned fully to Pen Stroke. “Any other news from the wider world?”

“Nothing good,” Pen Stroke answered. “Tons of refugees are flooding down here. Apparently, the letter I managed to get out caused quite a stir amongst the others.”

“That's good though, right?” I asked.

“On the one hoof, it will mean that they can come live here, free from the scrutiny of Canterlot, but that won't always be the case,” Pen Stroke began. “Eventually they will put down these rebellions, and sign some manner of agreement with the griffins. Once that happens they’ll turn their attention once more to the south.”

“By then we’ll be ready for them,” I stated confidently.

“Hopefully, but I think we should be prepared to make peace, or at least offer terms. The ire of an alicorn is not something to be taken lightly,” Pen Stroke warned.

“That's a bridge we won't have to cross for some time. In the meantime you all will remain ever free,” I paused. “Ever free, ever free. That sounds almost like it would make a good name for the forest.”

“Either way I am too old and too tired to assist you with such a task. I will be taking my leave for the moment,” Pen Stroke concluded.

“Of course. Make yourself at home, and if you need anything at all, do let me know,” I pressed.

The elderly thestral smiled and gave me a curt nod. “I appreciate it Xathird. I would bid you sweet dreams though I’m not certain if your kind sleeps.”

“We do, sort of. In fact, I’ll probably be joining you in a few minutes here. I must make sure my new guests are well taken care of, after all,” I stated.

Pen Stroke nodded as he walked off, grabbing a bed roll and some food from the pile before heading into the cave.

As I watched him go, I mused idly about the brief bit of good luck we had. No longer would I need to fear these reinforcements from the north, nor would I have to worry about any solar attention for a while anyway. Leaving me plenty of time to help the thestrals, build out the forest, and relax. And provided the dogs returned quickly with both the prisoners and the other dogs, all the immediate problems would be solved.

With that in mind, I looked out over the gathered groups of ponies. All of them were either sleeping or were gathered together in small tight-knit groups. Their conversation was hushed, but the speakers were relaxed, a few among them already nodding off.

Clearly, they weren't about to run off into the woods, nor did they need anything. So I recalled the dragon and had it curl about my trunk before I let myself drift off. If I had a face, I would have smiled contentedly, so instead I simply gave my branches a little wiggle.

Things were turning out pretty okay.

So far.

Author's Note

A Sudden Awakening

A diamond dog awoke with a start, the small male scrambling around in a blind panic as his body struggled to catch up with his brain. After a moment of complete and utter confusion, his vision began to clear, allowing him to look around. To his increasing surprise he did not awake in a cage, cell, or open grave but what seemed to be a modest bedroom.

“What the-” he croaked, his voice failing after the second word.

Parched, and with a throat that felt like he had recently swallowed sandpaper he looked around for a glass of water or really any liquid at all. Sure enough, there was one sitting right next to the bed he was lying in and he snatched it with a paw. Chugging its contents, he found that it tasted a bit like pond water, but was still quite clean as well as pleasantly cool.

After downing the contents, he looked around again, this time paying attention to his surroundings.

The room he was in wasn't very large and was vaguely round for some reason. Stranger still, the walls, ceiling, and floor seem to be made up of living wood that had somehow been coaxed into growing in a spherical manner. The furniture was at least a little more normal, with the only weird part being the fact that it all looked brand new.

The strangeness continued as he noticed that the lone window which lay only a few inches away was made of thick glass. Despite just how much glass there was, it didn't warp the image behind it very much, or at least he didn't think so until something appeared on the other side. It looked like a squirrel, just one that was abnormally thin, painfully so.

“What the-” muttered the diamond dog before breaking out into another bout of coughing.

When he managed to eject some phlegm from his lungs, the dog looked back to find that the skeletal animal was gone. Everything else outside the window looked normal, at least for a very thick forest anyway. The foliage was so dense that he could barely see more than a few feet before darkness swallowed everything. Yet it was still enough to tell that it was mid-afternoon and that snowflakes were drifting down from above.

“Snow?” he whispered quietly to himself.

Pushing aside the rather rough but weirdly warm blankets, he stood up only to realize another strange thing. He was wearing what looked like a brown robe made from tightly woven reeds pressed into something close to cloth. It was heavy, and could probably be used as armor, but was still warm, and felt soft, as well as a bit like tree bark.

Stepping towards the door, the dog crept as silently as he could muster, only to stop when his paw reached for the handle. Something was off, something that made him both relieved and completely terrified. The answer sprung to mind, and his hand to his throat, grasping at where the collar had been what felt like a second ago.

Turning around and looking back at the bed he noticed that it was laying on the pillow he had been using a second earlier. Far from the menacing circle of unbreakable metal humming with energy, now it was little more than a hunk of brittle-looking iron. He gave it a poke with his finger, and when nothing happened he grinned despite the weird situation he found himself in.

Laughing madly, he did a little dance, pumped his fist in the air, and even threw in a couple of pelvic thrusts for good measure. His celebration ended abruptly when the muscles in his left leg suddenly began to cramp. Grabbing at the section of taut muscle, he tried to massage it away and help things along by whispering curses under his breath.

That seemed to do it, though it didn't help the feeling of near exhaustion that came with something so small. It felt almost like he’d been in that bed for far, far longer than he first anticipated. Shrugging off those thoughts he went back to the door and pulled it open, but just a single tiny little bit.

“Hi!”

He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Hey mister, I’m just a little filly. No reason to be scared. I ain't gonna bite ya,” shouted a voice from behind him.

“It's just a pony child, nothing to be too freaked out about…” he whispered to himself.

“Yeah don't be scared. I don't want to have to ask Uncle Xathrid to bring you back from the dead if your heart explodes or something,” yelled the thestral filly.

That made the diamond dog confused, but he ignored what had just been said and chalked it up to kids simply being kids. Pulling back open the door he peered down at the filly and studied her features closely for a moment. She seemed normal, had a two-toned mane of dark blue, grey fur, with eyes that matched her coat color. The cutie mark on her flank was of a dark cloud raining lightning bolts down from above, which fit with her leathery wings.

“I’m Rainy Day, but you can just call me Rainy,” proclaimed the odd filly.

“I’m… Not sure,” muttered the diamond dog.

“A little bit of amnesia is to be expected says Uncle Xathrid. Your name is Little Heart by the way or that is what everyone calls you,” remarked Rainy.

“How did you-”

“Know? Your tribe, or group or whatever is staying with us. Come on. I’ll show you to them,” Rainy offered.

“Wait what- hold on a second,” pleaded the diamond dog.

Rainy seemingly didn't hear him and continued bouncing along, leaving her follower to trundle awkwardly after her. After he caught up, he began looking around, the dog immediately finding himself struck by the increasing strangeness all around him.

Arrayed in a circle around them were a bunch of trees that had somehow been warped into the shape of primitive houses. Most were the reed kind that the diamond dog had been staying in, the many thin branches winding together to create a small home. The two at the end were different as they were made from oak trees, and though small were much sturdier-looking.

They weren't empty either, as the diamond dog could see movement, as well as the occasional shape of a pony. They all seemed to be thestrals, though they mostly stayed inside, seemingly avoiding the trickle of large white flakes that fell from above. His assumptions were proven true when one emerged from the shadow and landed nearby, giving him a wave before disappearing into their house.

The diamond dog awkwardly waved back.

“Not many ponies chose to move into the bulb houses. Most stayed underground, which makes sense but it's still a shame,” Rainy remarked. “Uncle Xathrid worked really hard making deals with these trees but apparently that's okay as they are prototaps.”

“Types,” corrected the diamond dog.

“Of what?” Rainy replied.

The dog sighed. “Don't worry about it.”

The filly shrugged and kept moving.

Leaving the small grove behind the diamond dog noticed that it was colder than anticipated. He also realized that he was walking on a fairly well-made road, albeit one that wasn't overly used. Going away from the small grove of tree houses, it lead into the woods, and eventually towards what looked like a large structure.

“So,” murmured Tiny Heart. “How many people live here?”

“A bunch, we got Crossed Swords, my parents Cracked Wheel, and White Iron. Burning Beaker, Crooked Coin, Pen Stroke, and Tall Order. Plus we got like, a bunch living further out. I think they were called Bushel, Candy Apples Apple something, and Myolnaan,” Rainy answered.

“That's not a lot,” pointed out the dog.

Rainy shrugged. “Those are the only ponies I remember. We got like, a ton more plus like fifty of you guys in the cave up ahead.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. Some of them are even alive too!” Rainy proclaimed.

“What?” muttered the dog.

“You’ll find out soon!” Rainy declared.

The diamond dog opened his mouth to reply but caught a glimpse of what looked like a skeletal pony in armor. Standing motionless amidst the dark underbrush, the creature was almost completely invisible. Only the slow movement of its head and faintly glowing eyes betrayed the fact that it was at least in some small way, alive.

It raised a hoof and waved, prompting the diamond dog to awkwardly return the motion. He continued waving until he realized just how far behind he was getting left. Then he jogged after the filly, catching up with her when they reached the large wooden structure built against a stone wall. No, not a wall he realized but rather a massive plateau of rock that jutted out of the ground and rose high into the air.

The natural formation was interesting, but the dog’s attention was grabbed by the building in front of him. It was unassuming, at least at first glance, resembling a warehouse of some kind albeit one with larger doors than what the dog was used to. Upon approaching the place, those towering hunks of oak barring their path were pushed open from the inside revealing the entrance to a mine.

There was also a bit of warehouse space present on either side, racks of ore just waiting for the furnace. A few mine carts were sitting around in various states of disrepair, a mechanic tinkering away with the things to the dog’s right. Though he too looked normal at first glance, a closer inspection revealed that his right arm was completely skeletal.

“What the-” the diamond dog exclaimed, only to grab his throat when he began to cough violently.

“He’s an undead, almost like what you ended up!” Rainy proclaimed.

The diamond dog continued to cough until he nearly vomited, his knees shaking hard enough that he almost fell over. Thankfully a bony hand caught him by the shoulder before he hit the ground.

“You alright there buddy?” asked a slightly ethereal, otherworldly voice.

Little Heart cleared his throat and nodded. “I’m okay. Just, really dry for some reason.”

“That's understandable. The spell that freed you from that damnable collar took longer than the boss anticipated,” remarked the undead dog.

“Boss?” asked Little Heart.

“You’ll meet him soon. Best keep ‘er moving there friend. I bet you got some people that are eager to see that you are okay,” declared the other dog, who gave Little Heart’s shoulder a squeeze before releasing him.

“R-right. My squad was alive last I checked before…” Little Heart paused and clutched hush head. “Augh, why can't I remember?”

“Hey, don't stress it. It’ll return to you in time,” Rainy whispered in a low tone.

Little Heart smiled faintly, face still contorted in a wince.

He then pushed himself back up into a full standing position before gesturing to the mine shaft ahead. It proceed downward at a fairly steep incline at least for the first little bit but Tiny Heart could tell that it tapered out soon after that. Though he couldn't see just how deep it went, the diamond dog had the instinctual knowledge that it went fairly deep underground.

“Well then. Lead the way,” he offered.

Rainy grinned and did just that, trotting off down the tracks with a spring in her step.

“Oh, you’re going to like it here. Uncle Xathrid gave the whole mines to you guys after he made sure to clear out all the bad air,” Rainy declared. “We even found this other entrance so you don't have to go through the thestral lair and mushroom farm.”

“Lair? That sounds… menacing,” murmured Little Heart.

“Pfft, it's just a bunch of cave houses. It's not like we got a secret necromancer laboratory hidden away or anything,” Rainy exclaimed, the filly snickering to herself.

“You sure are a cheeky one, you know,” remarked Little Heart.

Rainy giggled. “Uncle Xathrid says I am this way because I have gumption. Mom says it's because I’m full of piss and vinegar. Which doesn't make any sense. I don't need to drink anything and I hated vinegar even when I was alive?”

“Wait, are you one of those undead as well?” Tiny Heart asked hesitantly.

“Well yeah. Didn't you notice I didn't grab a jacket or anything?” Rainy replied, glancing over her shoulder and cocking her head. “It is pretty cool out there despite not even being winter yet.”

“I may have been a bit distracted by the whole waking up in a weird place, wearing weird clothes, months after I last remembered,” muttered Tiny Heart bitterly.

“It's October by the way,” Rainy piped up. “Like, twenty-something I think. That doesn't matter though cus it's almost hollow weeners.”

Rainy paused and cocked her head, gaze growing distant as if she were engaged in a conversation Tiny Heart was not privy to the other side of.

“Sorry, Halloween,” Rainy exclaimed, shaking her head. “Augh Uncle Xathrid can be so annoying sometimes.”

“Is he here, with us?” Tiny Heart whispered, glancing around.

“Nah he's just in my head,” Rainy proclaimed. “Anyway, here we are!”

Tiny Heart was about to ask another question when he found himself struck by his new and strange surroundings. Though clearly still in a mine, the place had been redecorated to make it feel like the kind of burrow he remembered from his youth. Lanterns were strung across the ceiling, and torches flickered along the walls, illuminating a mostly circular pit.

Around the edges was a track fitted for mine carts, though there were also openings that lead to what were likely family homes. Round doors had been affixed over the entrances, and next to them were colored paw prints that indicated family association. Yet a lot of them were black, a color that was shunned because of its close association with a dishonorable death. Walking up to one such entrance, Tiny Heart traced a finger down the print, a confused expression crossing his face.

“Did you want to talk to miss Tara? Just a sec,” Rainy declared.

“No that's really not…” Tiny Heart’s repudiation gave way to curiosity as Rainy didn't knock but instead glared at the door. “What are you doing?”

Rainy remained silent for a few more seconds before spinning back around and grinning at the diamond dog. “She's coming!” proclaimed the filly.

“How did you do that?” Tiny Heart asked.

“We’re all connected cus we’re all dead!” Rainy offered helpfully.

“Huh,” Tiny Heart murmured.

The door opened a second later, and a large, broad-shouldered female diamond dog appeared in the opening. Wearing a heavy robe usually reserved as under armor worn beneath plate, the diamond dog looked ready for battle. Only she had no weapon and was already dead, evidenced by the faint glow to her eyes, and the fact that the inside of her mouth was visible through an unhealed gash in her cheek.

“Oh, you’re awake,” rumbled the towering female, her voice carrying the strange otherworldly timber that the mechanic had as well. “I guess I owe Xathrid an apology.”

“Why?” asked Tiny Heart.

“Oh he just messed up the spell on your collar slightly and so it took longer for you to wake up than anticipated. Thankfully we were able to remedy this when we found and freed the others,” Tarashar declared.

“Wait, others? DidHalbrecht, and Castus survive?” Tiny Heart all but demanded.

“Yes, and no. It's complicated,” Tarashar muttered, a paw scratching the back of her neck. “Either way they should be down in their domicile at the bottom floor. You can talk with them down there.”

“Thank you. Rainy could you take me there?” Tiny Heart asked, grabbing the filly by the shoulders.

“Uh sure, follow me, mister!” Rainy proclaimed.

Tiny Heart stood back up. “Lead the way.”

“We’ll talk again once you’ve had the chance to settle in a bit,” Tarashar offered.

Tiny Heart gave the larger woman a nod before turning and jogging after the fleeing form of Rainy. Ever eager, the young filly raced down the mine cart track, using her hooves to grind on the freshly polished rails. Though he didn't have the filly’s unnatural grace or wings, the diamond dog following her had a long, loping gait that kept him from falling too far behind.

Down the pair went, passing by more doors, a common area, and the central spire where dogs looked on in amusement. Tiny Heart wanted to question them all, to learn more about this place, and his circumstances but his current dominant desire overrode that urge. Even the appearance of a stream, and what looked like a small market as well as a blacksmith on the second floor wasn't enough to make him slow.

Down on the bottom floor, he noted that there were a few more interesting things of note like a bridge, a communal eating area, and a simple hospital. He would check those things out later, right now he needed to see for his own eyes the fate of his family. He skidded to a stop in front of another round door beside which was a black hand, and a purplish blue one.

“Have fun talking to your partners!” Rainy proclaimed.

Tiny Heart could barely utter a thanks before the door opened and a large diamond dog appeared. So wide was the male that he filled the entire entryway, or at least he would have, if he wasn't missing an arm, the stump capped with a piece of steel. His deep-set dark brown eyes carried that same unnatural glow that Tiny Heart had seen in the other undead. The worry and fear that came with such a realization were washed away by the familiar smile that graced the larger diamond dog’s features.

“It is good to see you, dear heart,” he whispered in a low, rumbling tone.

Tiny Heart didn't think, immediately flinging himself into the larger dog’s arms and embracing him with a kiss. He ignored the faint taste of rot and something artificial on the other dog’s lips, focusing instead on the fact that Helbrecht still contained the warmth Little Heart had missed.

“Hey, save some for me,” exclaimed a voice.

Little Heart pulled back, immediately seeking out and finding the source of the voice. Who happened to be a slightly older female dog who had slipped out under Helbrecht’s side. Though not quite as tall as the towering, dark-furred undead, she was still quite large, with fur almost as dark but containing a bluish-grey tinge that set it apart. More importantly was the eye not covered by a patch, as it did not glow like the undead did but instead shimmered with the hint of a tear.

“Castus!” Little Heart shouted before leaping into her arms and embracing her as he had Helbrecht a moment earlier.

“Our little heart, it's so good to see you,” Castus whispered before kissing the diamond dog.

“It's so good to see you two!” Little Heart proclaimed, only to pause. “Wait, Little Heart isn't my name that’s what you call me… hey!”

Rainy giggled. “Sorry, but Helbrecht told me to!”

“Sell out,” Hellbrecht remarked while snickering.

“Could you give us some privacy for a bit Rainy?” Little Heart asked. “I will want to meet this Xathrid in a little bit so could you come back and help show me around in a bit?”

“Sounds good! I don't want to watch you three get all icky anyway,” Rainy exclaimed, the filly sticking out her tongue in disgust.

“Thank you, Rainy. Oh, and my name is Morus by the way,” Little Heart exclaimed.

“Yeah I know, bye,” Rainy declared before taking off.

As she scampered back up the ramp and left the three dogs behind, Rainy could hear them share a chuckle before retreating into their house.

It seems as though a friendly face helped keep the shock to a minimum, thank you Rainy. Exclaimed a deep, and alien voice inside the filly’s mind.

No problem Uncle Xathrid! Rainy eagerly replied. I love showing new people around even if he did get all icky at the end there.

The filly zipped between the legs of a diamond dog and barrelled around the corner before he had a chance to blink.

Would you like to get him a drink from Bushel? A little booze usually helps one adjust to changes they may not be ready for. Offered the voice which seemed to echo forth from some deep primordial well.

I guess, but doesn't that stuff just make you throw up a lot? Rainy asked.

It can but I doubt he's that much of a lightweight. Replied the voice of Xathrid. Would you mind bringing them some dinner while you’re at it? They haven't picked up any supplies in a while and I’m worried about them.

Oh, they’re probably just being silly. Rainy exclaimed. Mom says they are stubborn like mules but I’ve never met a mule before.

Maybe one day. Oh and Rainy, thank you. Xathrid whispered.

Rainy grinned. No problem Uncle Xathrid. Besides, they make some really good apple candies.

Ahh, that's right. Rumbled Xathrid. They might even be done making the new ones I asked them to cook up for Halloween.

Rainy stopped. New ones!?

I’ve said too much. Xathrid stated slyly. You’ll just have to go bug Candy Apples to find out more.

The filly weaved around a mine cart, and turned around the final corner, entering the tunnel that ultimately lead to the surface. Rather than exit through the newly dug hole which emerged about a mile from Xathrid’s grove, she hung a right. Going up a long flight of freshly made stairs, she reached what had once been a relatively unpleasant and narrow passage.

It wasn't quite as nice as the gently sloping entrance the diamond dogs used to reach their mine, but it was close. A bit of climbing later and the filly reached a freshly erected security door placed between the two areas. Serving more so to simply support the ceiling now that Xathrid’s roots had retreated, it could be locked from either side in case of emergency. Though for now it was left unlocked, and partially open, allowing the filly to pass without even slowing her down.

After jogging up the last few stairs, Rainy turned a corner and was greeted with the sight of freshly cooked food. The cavern she currently stood in was fairly wide, and two-tiered, with the lower half being dedicated to preparing meals. A thestral canned mushrooms on one side while on the other a rather primitive oven was baking bread while heating up soup.

“Hey there Rainy,” offered the undead thestral standing by the oven. “Off to bring some supplies to the Apples?”

“Yuppers!” Rainy proclaimed.

“I left the bag in the barracks in case anyone was heading out that way. Ask Quarter Smith, he’ll know where it is,” offered the thestral mare.

“Thanks, have fun with the soup!” Rainy proclaimed.

“Have fun with soup, ha! As if soup could be fun,” laughed the mare.

Rainy shrugged and kept trotting down the path, passing by the rather expansive kitchen area constructed mostly out of stone. The second tiered section had several copper jugs connected via pipes sitting atop stone tables cut out of the wall. The filly didn't know what they did, but they sure smelled funny, almost like the container of chemicals she had been told not to drink.

On the other side, someone was working on drying out long strips of mushrooms on wooden racks. Several half-woven clothing items hung there, waiting to be completed with the addition of more strips. Rainy didn't know how that worked either, but she had seen a unicorn come around to help every once and a while.

Beyond the food and mushroom processing area was a narrow tunnel that wound to the left before opening up into a large cavern. Nearly as large as a city block and several stories tall, it housed dozens of families as well as a large mushroom farm. While the farm covered almost the entire ground level save for a path running through the middle, and one that went around the edges, the living spaces were almost all above.

Housing was mostly off the ground and built into the rock walls above but there were a few along the right side that Rainy could see. Wooden walkways and bridges connected the various homes to one another and the staircase built into the far wall. To the filly, it looked like an interconnected mass of string not unlike an enormous spider’s web.

“Hey, Rainy, where you off to in such a hurry?” asked a passerby.

“Mystery dog is awake and I’m bringing him alcohol!” Rainy proclaimed.

The dumbstruck passerby stood there, a basket full of mushrooms clutched under one hoof.

Rainy didn't bother explaining and merely ran on, sprinting into the third and final cavern before reaching outside. That final room was much different, as it was devoted mostly to a barracks, though Rainy didn't know what that word meant. To her, it was the fighting room, where thestrals and diamond dogs trained with swords, making sure not to hit one another too hard.

Near the exit to the room a raised barricade with spikes jutting out the front waited for any would-be invader to come charging in. Though no one had tried yet, her uncle Xathrid had insisted on its construction just in case such a thing occurred in the future. Rainy didn't get it, but there was a lot she didn't get, so she stopped near where the lone wooden structure was located.

Sitting nearby, with a grin on his face was an older thestral that Rainy had seen many times. The stallion was almost completely white, but sure didn't act old, as he hopped off his chair and approached the filly.

“Well howdy there little one,” he greeted. “The boss tree sent along word that you’re looking for a care package. It's sitting in the armory. Go ahead and grab it.”

“Okay dokay. Thank you Mister Smith!” Rainy proclaimed.

The older thestral smiled and sauntered back to his rocking chair.

Leaving Rainy to enter the building, pluck the bag of goods from the table, and leave without even glancing at all the weapons and armor hanging all over the place. Though she didn't notice it, an undead squirrel watched from the corner of the room, observing the filly as she went. Rainy also didn't know that upon entering the room several magical defenses powered down, powering back up only to come back online after she left.

Tossing the saddlebags over her back, Rainy ran past the barricade, and the undead thestrals manning it. She skipped along, humming to herself as she exited the cave, leaving the pleasantly warm caverns behind. Though she didn't mind the change in temperature, Rainy still took note of the change, enjoying the brisk cool breeze of fall on her coat.

She waved to the handful of ponies that were working near the exit to the cave. With hammers and axes they were assembling a large door that once completed would fit perfectly in the entrance. Right now it was just a pile of wood in Rainy’s opinion, though her uncle Xathrid had told her about how the entire thing was inspired by some story about a ring and a lord.

She didn't get it.

Breaking into a run, she began flapping her wings before leaping into the air. She hung there for a moment before hitting the ground, and rolling into a bush, getting herself covered in burs in the process.

Need help controlling your magic? Xathrid inquired.

Rainy pulled herself from the underbrush, checked her bags, and was about to reply with a firm no only to stop herself.

Yes. She glumly replied.

Don't feel bad. This is going to take some practice remember? Xathrid calmly asserted.

“Yeah,” Rainy muttered aloud.

Come on, get those wings moving. Xathrid encouraged.

Rainy felt the urge to cry coming on for a moment, but a firm sniff banished that urge before it could manifest. She then took a deep, and completely unnecessary breath before breaking into a sprint, wings pumping hard. Once she was sure she was running as fast as possible, she jumped into the air and tried to activate her magic.

Alone, she couldn't quite muster it, but with Xathrid’s help her wings began to grow warm and her body lightened. After a moment of freefall, she felt her momentum shift and she started to ascend. Slowly at first, but as soon as she had breached the tree cover the filly started to pick up speed.

In only a few seconds she was flying high above the ground with only her wings and a helping hand keeping her up there. The joy of flight brought a smile to her face, and the filly wanted only to speed up, but resisted that urge. She needed practice and so rather than pouring on the speed she decided to simply fly normally.

There you go. Xathrid encouraged.

Rainy’s smile grew and she idly glanced about the forest as she flew towards her distant destination. The dense brush and towering trees indicative of Xathrid’s forest had grown far, nearly engulfing the entire immediate area. In the distance, Rainy could see where her ‘uncle’s’ influence ended and the chaotic tangle of branches gave way to plains. Beyond that was the pass that lead to her old home, while to the left lay the deer lands though it all looked the same to Rainy.

Turning her wings, she began to glide down towards a more orderly mass of trees hidden away in a small valley. As she descended, the filly took note of a few other clearings she could see from her current vantage point. She recalled that Xathrid was experimenting with something, and testing some kind of building technique but she couldn't recall more information. The filly didn't make a concerted effort to do so either, her attention span quickly running out after thinking about it for a few seconds.

As she slowly glided towards the ground, Rainy took note of the small orchard and shack that stood in its midst. There was no nice way of putting it, the ramshackle home was little more than a fancy bunch of lean-tos, but it seemed to suit the four inhabitants just fine. Bushel could be spotted working on the outer wall, while his sister Caramel Apple assisted, and Mjolna sat off to the side, rotating the hides of some beast they were intending on turning into winter jackets.

“Where’s Candy Apples?” Rainy shouted in lieu of a proper greeting.

“What? No hey, how's it going? Just straight into seeing my wife, huh?” Bushel asked.

Caramel Apple chuckled, punching her brother in the shoulder. “Can ya blame her? Zombie or not, a kid’s got the nose of a blood hound when it comes to candy.”

Rainy landed near the house and stopped in front of Bushel. “Oh, and these are for you. Uncle Xathrid was worried you were going to starve out here.”

“We can make it on our own just-” Bushel started only to be interrupted by Mjolna.

The quiet mare plucked the bags from Rainy’s back and walked inside, shooting the lone male a glare as she did so.

“I can take a hint,” Bushel muttered to himself.

Caramel Apple chuckled.

Mojolna stood inside the entrance to the shack and gestured for Rainy to follow her in. Something the filly did immediately with a squeal of excitement. Once inside she was hit by the scent of something sweet cooking somewhere very close by. It wasn't hard to find the fireplace and the mare who was sitting next to it, tending to the bubbling cauldron with a close eye.

“Is it almost ready?” Rainy asked.

Candy Apple looked over to the voice, expression softening when she laid eyes on the filly. “Almost,” Candy Apple offered. “I gotta say though, your uncle sure does have a good mind for treats considering the fact that he's a tree.”

“That's because he lives viscously through me,” Rainy proclaimed.

“I think you mean vicariously,” Candy Apple offered.

“That's what I said,” Rainy replied.

Candy Apple and Mjolna shared a gentle chuckle which just confused Rainy.

“They’ll be done in time for your uncle’s celebration,” Candy Apple offered. “Speaking of which. I must ask as to why he seems to have so much love for such a grim tradition.”

“It's not grim,” Rainy retorted. “It's fun! We get to dress up and eat candy, and the adults get to drink booze.”

Mjolna couldn't help but giggle.

“I suppose any excuse to forget our troubles and imbibe a little mushroom brew is a good thing,” Candy Apples murmured while stirring the pot absently. “And perhaps a little fake horror will offset the real horror we’ve seen this past year.”

“Do you have any liquid courage? The sleeping dog is finally awake,” Rainy half asked half stated.

“Oh absolutely, here you are,” Candy Apple replied, handing back the filly’s saddle bags now with a small jar of a dark yellow liquid inside.

“Kay, bye now!” Rainy announced suddenly.

“Thank you Rainy,” Mjolna exclaimed, waving to the filly as she departed.

Rainy grinned, and took off at a sprint, calling on her magic as she did so. Though again she needed a little extra help, the filly was soon airborne once more and heading back the way she came. The apples she passed by barely gave her a glance, both having focused once more on their work.

This time Rainy’s short attention span got the better of her and she tried to push a bit more magic into her wings, hoping to speed things up a little. Though successful in this endeavor, she realized that after clearing the distance, speeding up was one thing but stopping was another. She flared her wings in an attempt to stop but didn't shift her magic as she did so, leading to her not actually slowing down one bit.

“Oh crud!” she cried, hooves flailing.

Gotcha.

A nearby tree reached out with a branch and plucked the filly out of the air before depositing her gently on the ground.

“Thanks, Uncle Xathrid,” Rainy exclaimed.

No problem. Just remember to clean that oak tree’s bark. It's got a bit of an invasive growth on the west side. Xathrid replied.

“Kay!” Rainy proclaimed.

Walking towards the mine entrance, Rainy stopped abruptly, the door opening just as she was reaching for the handle. Emerging from the dark interior was a familiar canid face, one that seemed aged since last Rainy had seen him. Despite the fact that he looked burdened in some way, he wore a satisfied smile that made Rainy grin right back.

“Here!” Rainy announced, plucking the jar from her bag and shoving it into Morus’s paw. “Uncle Xathrid said this would help.”

Morus chuckled. “Thank you, Rainy. Hellbrecht mentioned you had something special for me.”

A twist removed the top of the jar, allowing the dog to sniff the contents. Though his nose initially crinkled in disgust, a smile quickly replaced his dour expression. Taking a quick swig made that smile grow even larger, a sigh of contentment escaping the dog.

“That's good,” Morus remarked.

“Feel better?” Rainy inquired.

“Quite. Would you lead me to your uncle please?” Morus inquired.

“Kay!” Rainy exclaimed.

Without waiting for even a moment, Rainy took off, jogging down the path. The diamond dog following in her wake after a second to put the top back on the jar.

With Rainy out in front, the pair made their way along the slightly winding path. The filly didn't bother to take in the sights as she had walked the same passage dozens of times a day. Morus glanced about though he kept his curiosity in check lest he end up left behind by the excitable filly.

Within a few short minutes, they arrived rather abruptly at their destination. Having broken through the tree cover, they emerged into a large grove dominated by enormous shade trees. Cast in permanent shadow, the palace was oddly intimidating yet still inviting for reasons that Morus couldn't quite understand.

The pond in the center was fresh and clear, its banks surrounded by alien flowers that Morus had no name for. Strange plant life that Morus didn't recognize were everywhere, making the grove feel more like a strange greenhouse or museum. Then his gaze settled on the grove’s owner and he immediately felt as though it were more like a church.

Every blade of grass, every bush, tree or leaf seemed subtly turned toward the towering entity that sat at the clearing’s edge. Nestled between two large stones, with its back to the ridge, the tree was massive, dwarfing even the undead dragon that lay at its base. Though the skeletal remains of the black dragon were filled with dirt and covered with plant life, it still oozed menace, at least in the diamond dog’s opinion.

Even then it was not half as intimidating as the mammoth tree that rose above all others, extending its branches to the heavens. Though its bark looked to sport the faces of agonized creatures beyond counting, and it loomed over its surroundings Morus felt his interests become piqued.

“It really is a ghoultree,” he murmured to himself.

“That I am,” spoke the dragon, its voice so deep that Morus felt his bones rattle inside his body. “Though you can call me Xathrid.”

“Apologies,” Morus hastily replied, ducking into a shallow bow. “I had assumed they were simply mistaken when they told me of your nature. Ghoultrees were assumed to be smart but not truly intelligent.”

“I am a unique breed,” stated the dragon. “But perhaps we can discuss that later. For now, I was hoping to hear your decision.”

“What decision?” Rainy asked.

“If I would stay, and help him,” Morus answered.

“If you would help your own,” Xathrid corrected. “Now that I have a bit of company I have no desires unmet, and no wants left unfulfilled.”

Morus chuckled. “That is fair.”

“This sounds boring. Can I go now?” Rainy asked.

The dragon chuckled. “Yes you may Rainy, thank you for your help.”

The filly didn't respond as she was too busy sprinting off into the woods, her mind already set on the next fun thing she could do.

“Now then, have you given it some thought?” Inquired Xathrid.

“I mean obviously I’m staying,” Morus answered. “But I think the real question is if I would offer my skills in botany to you.”

“No pressure,” Xathrid offered. “Your mates have just told me so much about you that I can't help but be curious about what we may be able to do if we put our heads together.”

Morus nodded slowly. “It would be the opportunity of a lifetime, and one I would be crazy to pass up on so… of course I’m going to say yes.”

“You almost had me going for a sec there,” Xathrid pointed out with a chuckle. “You sure have a flair for the dramatic you know.”

“I can't believe Helbrecht didn't tell you about that,” Morus exclaimed.

“Oh he did, but his warnings don't quite do it justice,” declared the dragon.

Who uncurled itself and trod slowly over to the diamond dog before extending a clawed hand.

“To new partnerships and new opportunities,” Xathrid offered.

Morus smiled, and took the claw, shaking it as best as his diminutive stature would allow. “To a bright future.”

Author's Note

Crossing Swords

Author's Note

This is the start of a halloween crossover special! Make sure to head over here if you want to read more!

https://www.fimfiction.net/story/544884/crossing-swords

Crossing Swords

I let my mind wander over the many tasks I had yet to do, and plans I had yet to put into motion. Despite the sheer enormity of it all, I did not, in fact, do anything productive at all at the moment. Instead, I reclined on the top of a tree in the form of a freshly deceased bird that had been struck down by some unknown malady.

Winter was fast approaching, though thankfully the first snow thereof had melted almost as quickly as it had arrived. It was merely a reminder of what was to come, though I hoped it wouldn't arrive until at least after Halloween. My favorite holiday wasn't far off, and though the ponies didn't know anything about it until I introduced it, they were excited.

The general acceptance of my little forced festival had been slow but by now I could tell that they were excited. Ponies hung tiny bats made from dark leaves cut into winged shapes. Ghosts were made by doing something similar with the bark of a white oak tree that had turned the color of snow the moment the first of the stuff hit the ground.

It was fascinating to see how the various species adapted and readied themselves for the coming season. Some dropped their leaves rather predictably, but others changed color, shed their branches, and changed shape. The list of new and novel ways they dealt with winter was long, and a part of me wanted to catalog it all.

Though that urge was powerful, I decided to hold back on that for the moment, though I didn't shelve it completely. A compendium of my observations on the various plants and fungal species that filled my domain was definitely coming. To that end I required paper, preservation runes, and writing utensils, all things I wanted to make for other reasons as well.

Just to get that far required so much time and effort though. I needed to learn how to cut and shape a feather to use it in an ink well, which I also had to make myself. Thankfully I didn't need to come up with an ink alternative quite yet as there was tons of the stuff lying around the castle for some reason. Now with supplies in my possession, I wanted to get to work, to put pen to paper, but that could wait for a while at least.

For now, I simply extended my feathered wings and allowed my other senses to fall away. Replaced by the animal instincts within my winged form, I felt the call of the breeze and sky clearly. Yet again I resisted that urge, though now it was not out of some desire to be lazy but rather I heard a clopping coming from the base of the tree I was on.

Looking down, I saw what looked like a pony, though my senses were telling me that there was something else down there. With a soul that blazed hotter than the sun, and a presence that immediately made me feel nauseated yet eager it was definitely not a normal creature. Despite its overwhelming power and weirdly chaotic nature, it was content to sit and await my response.

Curiosity piqued, I took wing and glided down to the lowest branch. There I observed what looked to be a slightly effeminate stallion with slim hips, a red and gold mohawk, and a cutie mark depicting a jester’s stick. Though interesting, I felt my gaze drawn to his eyes, and the odd glint of twisted glee held within those emerald orbs.

“Can I help you?” I squealed.

“Yes, you can indeed my winged friend,” he replied. “My name is Jest, and I was hoping to approach you with an offer I think you will find most intriguing.”

I recalled my other forms, alerted Rainy, and was about to gather my allies in case this strange pony turned out to be hostile. However, before I could begin rattling off the commands, and requests, the strange stallion held up a hoof.

“There will be no need for all that. I come in peace,” he declared.

Just like that, my mind emptied of suspicion, and I looked at this weird creature in a new light.

“What exactly do you want with me?” I asked, utilizing the bird’s mostly intact voice box in order to speak.

“I have a bit of a problem. You see there is a place I can't go where a bunch of rather dastardly people have held up in order to do a spell that will have dire consequences for you, and everyone for that matter,” Jest explained. “Real end of the world type stuff. You know how it is.”

“I don't, but I think I get what you’re saying,” I murmured. “I think.”

“Great, sorry gotta be vague here, but I’ll definitely probably answer all your questions soon. I may also, if I feel like it, not be as vague and noncommittal as I am being now,” Jest continued.

“You’re not very good at instilling confidence,” I remarked.

“Eh, I don't usually have to. My purpose is to facilitate the narrative and act as comedic relief. Neither of which is particularly good at delivering exposition in an expedient manner,” he continued.

“You're a really weird dude,” I pointed out.

“Thank you!” Jest proclaimed. “But now onto business. Do you agree to come with me and help me with my little issue?”

“I don't have much of a choice, do I?” I inquired.

“I mean, you still have at least the illusion of choice but we all know you are too curious not to,” Jest pointed out.

I hated that he was right, and I hated how much of my thoughts were garbled by his presence seemingly throwing my brain for a loop.

“Sorry mate, I’m not doing that consciously, it's just a thing,” Jest declared, shrugging to himself.

“Alright, I guess I’ll help you,” I muttered somewhat bitterly.

“Great, just shake my hoof and we’ll be off,” Jest offered.

Despite all my misgivings, I extended a wing and gave it a little shake.

I then felt my mind fall back to my main body, before falling in a more literal sense. Plunging into a dark portal that had opened beneath me, I felt myself plummeting toward some unseen destination. In this lightless space of nothing, I felt a strange sense of deja vu overcome me as if I had done this again.

Then gravity returned, and I landed somewhere in a completely new dimension.

(Want to find out how this ends? Head over here!

Besting The Best

I drummed my fingers against the desk, watching the chat wildly speculate over who was about to win the coming bout. I may have been early to the duel but since it was such a high profile event, I had assumed he would have as well. After all, it's not everyday you get challenged to one versus one the top ranked solo player in the game.

My heightened anxiety may have also been due to the looming unveiling of my newest masterpiece, but If I was being honest it was mainly my opponent who made me feel so unnerved. My build may be ridiculous but I had enough practice with it that I was confident it would work, provided my enemy didn't pull something out of left field. Which was an understandable fear given that my opponent was a big time streamer with a hundred times my viewers.

Not like I was small, I had a dedicated following, and more than a thousand concurrent viewers at the moment.

Probably scoping me out before they place their bets on who was going to win. I thought to myself. Not like that will help you. Noone’s seen this build before.

I glanced over at the chat, watching as my viewers argued over what I was going to run. The most common assumption was that I was going to play some variant of Thorn Paladin. It wouldn't have been a terrible guess, had they not nerfed the crown of thorns ability straight into the ground.

“Give it up. You aren't going to guess what I got in store,” I told the camera, flashing my audience a smirk.

Immediately the chat lit up with more wild and random guesses. Everything from light magic fighter to multiclassing into barbarian, thief, wizard and rogue all at the same time. I watched for a bit longer before quickly growing bored and flipping over to my opponent's channel which I had open in another tab.

Offline.

I grunted, and began to scroll through his recent clips, curious as to what he was running. Sure enough he was still running daggers rogue, and more interestingly the videos were all titled practice sessions. I of course knew all this already, but reviewing the information at least made me feel like I was doing something productive with my time.

Even though I was really just staring at his avatar and trying to figure out where he got the budget for it. If it was one of those lower quality ones that most vtubers had then I wouldn't be so intrigued, but this was different. This guy was weird. He had a fully three dimensional character that could move in bizarre ways.

Not only that but his background was strange too, with stairs going into the ceiling, upside furniture, with a frankly nauseating amount of pastel colors. The fact that the guy had two different kinds of horns growing on his head, and a long snout with a single tooth poking out was almost less strange compared to everything else. His name was Bedlam, but he liked calling himself the lord of chaos, which was kinda fitting I guess?

It suited his brand anyway.

Compared to him I was just some guy with a medium tier camera and way too much time on his hands. After becoming unable to walk after an accident I had taken up streaming and had become rather infamous for my off the wall builds. Whether it was friendship the gathering and my mono white turbo mill, or my lizardman weaponless fighter in this game, I was the one to throw a wrench into the meta.

Other than my unpredictability I didn't have much going for me to be entirely honest. Sure I had put a lot of hours into junior scrolls online, but that wasn't the only game I played. Unlike Bedlam who only played this, and only dueled people.

Frankly I would have been feeling pretty stressed out if I didn't have an ace up my sleeve.

“Did you see there's a commentary channel running speculation on your match?” I read aloud, catching a bolded text from a donator. “No I have not. Let's check it out.”

Opening up the link I was greeted by two puppets that looked almost like Statler and Waldorf. Except these guys had a more angular design and were swearing like a pair of sailors.

“So how long do you think this one will last?” Asked one of the puppets.

“Just long enough for Bedlam to get fucking bored I’d say,” replied the other.

“I don't know man. This Jack Boy guy might prove a challenge,” stated the first.

“The only difficulty Bedlam will have is if he tries to swallow him whole!”

“You know what they say kids, chew your fucking vegetables.”

I snorted. “Their jokes are about as original as their shtick.”

I quickly closed the tab and went back to the game, watching as the duel pending request continued to sit in the middle of the screen. While I waited, I took a small amount of joy in the fact that chat found my remark funnier than theirs, but ultimately I didn't focus on that. I was about to load up a youtube video or something to help pass the time when I received a torrent of messages.

“He's online!” They all said.

I was about to alt tab and find out for myself when my duel request suddenly went through. A large window asking if I was ready popped up a second later, and I quickly settled back into my seat, left hand over the keyboard. After I was comfortable, and had taken a sip of water, I accepted, ignoring the continued stream of comments that kept rolling in.

With that done, a character selection screen popped up, asking which of my creations I was bringing into the fight. I scrolled down and hovered my cursor over Bedlam’s End, a necromancer outfitted with the heaviest armor in the game. Thick black plates, and a heavy helm obscured the tiefling’s racial features, though the long dark tail still stuck out the back.

It was a sight that drew confusion and excitement in equal measure from chat. Speculation ran rampant, though most were simply baffled and thought I was trolling. They werent wrong, but I very much planned on winning this duel.

A second later and two swords clashed across my screen, signalling that the fight was about to start, a timer appearing not long after. Counting down from thirty, I had more than enough time to size up the diminutive creature that stood across form me in the arena. Despite just how tiny they were, I instantly recognized it from Bedlam’s last stream.

Angel the Shin Stabber. Bedlam’s magnum opus and the character which temporarily broke the game after it managed to do quintuple digit damage in a single attack. It’s miniature bunny ears stuck out of its deep hood while its equally small paws gripped two itty bitty daggers.

The race was a bit of a joke, but due to the size adjustment it received, made the perfect starting point for anyone who wanted to build a glass cannon. The increased chance to dodge it had, was offset by an abysmal AC made even worse by Bedlam choosing to forgo armor entirely. Focusing completely on dodge chance, the tiny rabbit had yet to be hit even a single time during its illustrious career.

The devs were supposedly dealing with this dodge ‘bug’ but frankly the internet loved Bedlam so much that I doubted they would do anything about him.

After this they won't need to. I thought to myself.

I cracked my knuckles, and hovered my fingers over the keys, ready to move the second I was allowed to. With mere moments away I wondered what was going through Bedlam’s head. He was elusive, didn't have any social media and was never not in character so getting a straight answer was likely impossible.

Even still, I couldn't help but wonder why he had challenged me of all people.

FIGHT!

I knew I had maybe two seconds before Angel closed the distance, giving me exactly enough time to use two spells. The first of which was absolute barrier, followed closely by heaven’s guidance that in tandem with one another made me immune to all damage. Sure it also meant my speed was set to zero, reduced my dodge chance to nothing, and made me unable to cast offensive spells but I didn't care.

Angel blurred across the screen, appearing before my character right as I became invulnerable. Left with nothing to do, the character did a little dance emote and then blew a raspberry. I didn't care about the childish taunting however and just continued to run through my spell list like I practiced.

Body of Effulgent Beryl. Levitation. Bless of magic caster. Infinity wall. Magic ward, holy. Life essence. Greater full potential. Freedom. False data, life. See through. Paranormal Intuition. Greater resistance. Mantle of chaos. Indomitability. Sensor boost. Greater luck. Magic boost. Draconic power. Greater hardening. Heavenly aura. Absorption. Penetrate up. Greater magic shield. Mana essence.

Were all cast one after another, in addition to several more I forgot the name of.

Each one buffed another stat or resistance, effectively raising my defence to the point that nothing could do damage to me. The tradeoff was that the chance of my offensive spells failing to actually proc was one hundred percent, meaning I couldn't attack. Which was fine, because I wasn't planning any ‘real’ spells whatsoever.

I was going to leave that up to the aura of pain granted to me by my legendary amulet and the only offensive spell in the game which had a hundred percent success chance. This effect even ignored the spell failure chance given by my ultra rare armor and buffs. What grand spell was I basing my entire build around? Well that was simple.

Triple maximize summon lesser undead.

In response to the spell, two skeletons hopped out of the ground and began to attack Angel to no apparent effect. This development seemed to confuse Bedlam as he made his character scratch his head and look around. I didn't blame him for being confused, these undead were worthless in the grand scheme of things.

Their attack was the lowest in the game, as were the rest of their stats for that matter. Not only that but they also didn't have any other abilities other than pack mentality which was given to all low level swarm mobs. This ability raised the skeletons accuracy based on how many other skeletons there were within a hundred feet but was largely irrelevant in the game.

After all, a single fireball would clean them out in an instant.

Their expendability was the point though and I watched as Angel destroyed the summoned monsters in a single swipe of his blade. After dispatching the undead, Angel turned to my character and launched his first real attack. The flurry of light attacks did nothing to me, as did the dozen or so heavy autos that followed a second later.

I quickly ignored the increasingly dramatic animations playing out on my screen and instead focused on my enemies stats. Sure enough his dodge chance had dropped to ninety eight percent, leaving my skeletons an about ten thousand and one chance of hitting him. It was a small change, but it was enough to serve as the first nail in what would become Angel’s coffin.

To explain how I had even reduced the dodge chance at all would take all night but the short version was this. The ability to raise one’s dodge past one hundred percent was only added in the second year of this game’s life. Meaning that old spells and special magic items didn't remove a percent of the dodge, but rather set it to a percent, such as, aura of pain.

From there, herd mentality slowly grew stronger until it eventually overpowered his dodge buffs, or at least that was the plan. This would take an absolutely massive number of skeletons, you might be pointing out and yes it would. Which was why I had burnt the rest of my daily spells to increase the power level of summon lesser undead.

Because you see, now the spell’s effects would last indefinitely, and would also grow stronger every thirty seconds. Given long enough Angel would be fighting so many skeletons that even their frankly ludicrous dodge chance would be meaningless. I just had to survive long enough for that to happen and this game was in the bag.

He wasn't about to go out quietly though, as Bedlam cycled through every last spell and ability their character had. While this happened I continually refreshed all my protection spells, cycling through them in an incredibly specific order. Effectively keeping every single spell active at all times, leaving no chance for my enemy’s attacks to get through.

As I watched Angel’s every attack get nullified, I noticed the number of skeletons were slowly increasing. A minute later and his character was completely surrounded, a fact Bedlam realized as well, cutting down the creatures in a single well timed ability. It didn't matter though, for as time passed, Bedlam made little progress, his every attempt to pierce my armor rendered useless.

At the ten minute mark I was growing incredibly confident due to all my continued success. The spawn rate of my skeletons was now so high that my opponent had to constantly split his attention between attacking me and fending them off. I calculated that I had five minutes left before I would be able to overwhelm him, but I didn't relax, not yet anyway.

For despite running out of combinations of spells and abilities, Bedlam also had a number of single use items. Scrolls, spells, wands, potions, and cash shop items which he quickly used one after another. Trying every combination he could no doubt imagine. None of which was able to do so much as a single point of damage to my rather shallow pool of hit points.

As time passed and the fifteen minute mark began to approach, I couldn't help but grin excitedly. He had tried it all, comboing every last item, ability and spell his character could muster. Nothing worked, and nothing put a dent on my ironclad defences.

The chat, which I hadn't been paying attention to at the beginning, had started to turn on the supposed lord of chaos. Gone were the jokes and memes about me having lost my marbles. Now they were desperately trying to figure out how I had managed to create the perfect set of spells and equipment that when combined made one invincible. Their guesses were fairly close, though they had yet to figure out what rings I was wearing or how I was able to figure out the dodge reduction interaction.

I didn't care about them, or the surprisingly high number of viewers and donations I was receiving. Well okay, maybe I cared about that last one, but that didn't change why I was here. Which was to prove a point, and in my mind I had already won.

For Angel was now completely focused on solely killing skeletons, ignoring me completely. It was obvious that time was running out for him and there seemed to be little hope of a comeback. It didn't take long before Bedlam seemed to understand this as well, halting his attack and making his character salute me.

He was then immediately killed by the swarming skeletal horde, his healthpoints going from a hundred to zero in a single second. With his character now playing its death animation I had come out victorious.

I almost didn't believe I had won, yet no sooner had I thought that then I saw Congratulations! Pop up on my screen.

You have defeated Bedlam and his character Angel The Shin Stabber in single combat.

I had to read it a second time before the words really clicked and I realized that it had indeed actually happened.

I raised my arms above my head and yelled incoherently for a full minute before finally running out of steam. I had done it. I had bested the best, and had accomplished the impossible. This time I observed the chat closely, curious as to what my opponent was saying about me. In seconds I was pulling up his stream only to be surprised to see he was offline again.

“He yelled something about revenge and then went offline,” chat explained.

Sure enough a minute later and the clip of that very moment was uploaded to youtube and was sent to me. I was a little surprised at this, but I just figured that he was staying in character even after losing. Not one to take an internet tough guy seriously, I decided to forget all about it, and keep playing.

It was a little bit of a tonal shift to go from a much anticipated duel to watching me as I do my dailies but it had to be done. While I worked through the usual list of tasks I answered some questions, and generally talked about my build. The cat was out of the bag after all, and I thought I might as well revel in victory for a little longer.

That was until my monitor suddenly turned off and the sound cut out. After checking that my whole computer hadn't turned off, I clicked the power button on the screen. It took a second but when the picture returned there was an image of a mostly black screen with the words ‘Start New Game?’ in the middle. A little confused, I decided to hit enter, though a part of me said to alt tab and close the program before getting any further.

The same character selection screen I usually saw when starting a new build popped up, only without a race selection option. A little confused, I decided I’d use the same build I did to defeat Bedlam, which meant reducing my speed and attack to zero. This was a little dangerous, but it allowed me to dump all my points into defence and intelligence, giving me a massive mana pool in the process.

Scrolling through the classes available to me, I noticed there were more than usual. Not only that but many of the specialization paths were much larger and also selectable at level one. There were also several options not present in the base game, like beast master and alchemist.

“Huh, necromancer is selectable at level one as well. Usually it's a prestige class of wizard,” I muttered aloud.

Glancing to the side I quickly realized that chat was frozen, not only that but I couldn't move my cursor off my first monitor. Mentally filling that information away for now I decided to complete my character, after that I’d fix whatever was wrong with my internet. With nothing left but the name I decided to change it up and go for something intimidating.

Xathrid, The Blackblooded.

Very intimidating.

I made a note to use the same name for a dungeons and dragons character I was going to make for this weekend’s game. With that done I moused over where the sex option was only to find that it too was gone.

Not like it mattered mind you. There were no bonuses or penalties based on what your character had between their legs. Still, its absence combined with the fact that the race option was gone made me wonder if this was some kind of randomized version.

I could already imagine some dev chuckling at my confusion and I figured that this was some sort of reward. After all, more than a few of the people working on the game had said they would do something when Bedlam’s winning streak was finally broken. I hadn't thought that it would be to offer some sort of new game plus but hey, I wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.

I wouldn't know until I got into the game for sure though, so I kept on scrolling down until I reached the accept character option. I wasn't sure why, but I hesitated before clicking on it. I considered alt tabbing again, but my curiosity got the better of me and I continued on.

The second after my finger had descended my head began to feel heavy. Within moments a fog settled over my vision, and I could barely stay upright in my seat. The chat returned, as did the camera, allowing everyone to watch as I sunk the chair before slipping out of frame.

Tumbling onto the floor I lay there, unable to even fill my lungs with oxygen.The last thing I saw before passing out was the screen getting filled with the letter F.

Call an ambulance you morons. I thought bitterly before my vision darkened completely and I heard a familiar voice.

“Enjoy the new game, you big winner,” Bedlam whispered.

Fuck you, you fucking fuck. I thought, before blacking out.

When I awoke I was a little startled to feel nothing at all, or at least nothing initially anyway. When sensation did return I noticed that I had way more arms and legs then the last time I checked. I also didn't have a head, or seemingly any kind of sensory organs whatsoever.

Sure I could feel my body but I couldn't move an inch, leaving me baffled, and more than a little frightened. That was until I felt a breeze caress my naked body, then I realized something incredibly strange. I didn't have arms or legs at all, rather I had roots and branches covered with partially withered leaves.

Great. Either I’m having the most vivid hallucination of my life, or I died and got reincarnated not as something cool but as a fucking tree of all things. I thought to myself. I had a two four of my favorite beer in the fridge too.

Author's Note

A Feisty Perennial

I can't believe I’m a fucking tree. I thought to myself while idly enjoying the feeling of wind rustling through my wilted leaves. Out of everything I could have possibly come back to life as, it had to be a creature without legs, or any method of locomotion whatsoever. I would have been fine with a treant or something but just a plain old tree? I am going to go mad.

While my mind was starting to become completely overwhelmed with fear and panic, I realized something odd.

How am I thinking? I don't have a brain, nor can I sense anything that isn't the wind or the dirt beneath my fee-er roots. I realized.

I tried to feel out my own features but I wasn't used to having so many extra limbs, nor being as large as I was. The closest thing I could think of for a comparison would be if you were to grow three dozen extra arms overnight. Whatever was doing the thinking for me may have been built with all these appendages in mind, but I sure wasn't.

Extending my senses in such a manner nearly made me get a migraine after only a few seconds, so I quickly pulled back. Focusing out in a single direction, I started with up, where several thick limbs extended skyward. I could feel the heat and light of the sun more intensely up there, only it didn't quite feel right for some reason.

This body was almost repulsed by it, and the energy I received was almost sickly in a way. This made no sense to me for obvious reasons. How could light be so unpleasant? Don't trees need it to survive?

Brushing off such considerations for the moment I decided to focus myself downward next, as I wasn't quite ready to look around. There I discovered many deep, thick roots that felt like they went down all the way to China. I could sense that these veins were strong enough to shift the very earth they were confined within, though I didn't have the power to do so at the moment.

It was like my roots were asleep or something, as I could feel them but couldn't actually move the damn things. Which made sense given how thirsty and oddly hungry I felt, though I wrote that last sensation off as a misfiring neuron of some kind. Trees didn't get hungry after all, so I was probably just not used to being a plant quite yet.

I was about to recall my sensations when I detected that there were a number of caves running beneath my metaphorical feet. They went deep, and even had an entrance nearby, one that I could sense was currently blocked off by a number of boulders. I also felt as though there was a cavern somewhere under me, though I would need to extend my roots before I could reach it.

As I pulled back, my brain, or whatever organ did the thinking now, had managed to peice together a more complete picture of the ground around me. My main body was growing on the side of a grove which was itself nestled against a high wall of stone that rose dozens of feet into the air above me. It felt as though my back was to this steep expanse of rock, which gave me an odd feeling of protection that I enjoyed.

There was also a pool of water nearby, though I ignored that for the moment, and instead focused on my immediate surroundings. Other plants both large and small filled the area around me, though they gave me a wide berth for whatever reason. I felt like I could reach out and connect to them if I had the energy to do so, but I was just barely clinging to life as it was.

This wasn't the time to wonder why I was being left out of the cool plants club, as I had bigger concerns on my mind. Namely doing a better job at feeling out my surroundings using whatever new set of sensory organs allowed me to do so.

Trees, bushes, flowers, vines, some deadfall, and even a few bones littered the area. That last one really grabbed my attention and I focused in on them, only to immediately be disappointed. As they were all smashed to bits so small that I could only really pick out a single femur out of the bunch, which was still strange.

Why were there so many bones so close to me and why were they all destroyed so utterly? Whatever manner of creature which had been calling my grove home had not been there for a while as I could sense no fresh kills. Only scattered bits of wasted calcium remained, along with the small pool of water which lay directly in front of me.

I was about to go back to feeling out the various caves beneath me when I noticed something odd about the pond. You see by that time I had started to really visualize my surroundings in a matter in which my human brain could comprehend. It sort of looked like radar with each vibration alerting me to the physical surroundings nearest it.

Air currents were less easy to pick up than the larger, heavier ground bound vibrations, though that might have been due to my wilted leaves. Half closed as they were, the things struggled to pick up the more subtle, fast moving waves which traveled above the ground. Either way it was enough that I could imagine my surroundings in a more complete manner, including the pond which wasn't as empty as I had first thought.

Something had been floating near its center, though a stiff breeze had blown it close to me over the last few minutes. Upon bumping into the edge, I was able to sense that it was a small horse like creature, though its proportions were all wrong. Its head was way too big, its legs too short, and not only that but it had two extra appendages which grew from its back.

Appendages which I reasoned to be tiny, membranous wings like that of a bat, though I couldn't be certain. Without eyes I couldn't know what color it was, or even how big it was in relation to myself. I didn't know how big I was for that matter, though if it was the size of a full grown horse then I would be nearly six stories tall in comparison.

That didn't feel right though, so I pushed such considerations of that manner towards the back of my mind for the moment. Instead I focused on the horse creature, which I quickly summarized was dead. The poor thing bumped lazily against the side of the pool, unmoving and unresponsive to its fate. It might have been asleep, but there was something about the way it floated that made me think that wasn't possible.

Poor dumb animal. I thought to myself. I bet you fell in and bumped your head.

I wished I could sigh, as the action felt oddly appropriate. At least if you were alive I’d have some kind of company.

I ruminated on the creature’s fate for a bit longer before allowing my mind to wander once more. This time I thought back to the moment before I arrived here, trying to peice together some clue as to how I was transported to this place. It was obvious that my one time opponent, Bedlam, was responsible, though how he had managed such a feat was beyond me.

Either way that guy is a fucking asshole and I hope he chokes. I thought to myself before quickly calming down. Right, let's think back to what else happened.

I remembered the screen going black, then the character creation template appearing out of nowhere. I remembered putting everything I had into defence, magic, and health, leaving me without speed, offence or charisma. Which made sense I suppose, as a tree must have high defence, but zero speed. The magic part of this equation certainly didn't exactly seem logical however.

It also didn't seem possible that a tree could become a necromancer, but at this point I kind of expected things not to make a lot of sense. Though if I was indeed a mage capable of raising the dead, then I could bring back this strange bat winged pegasus creature. Having a servant to help defend myself seemed like a good start, and I’d certainly have one up on the other trees who just had to wait for rain.

If I can find a lake or stream I could water myself. I thought rather triumphantly. I could even ensure no upstart trees grow next to me and steal my sunlight.

With that thought in mind I reached out as best as I could towards the fallen creature, only to stop when I felt my branches twitch painfully. Recoiling, I tried to reach out to the creature in a more metaphysical sense rather than with one of my new limbs. I wasn't sure if was actually how necromancy functioned though it certainly felt right to me in the moment.

Pouring a bit more of my strength into the action I extended myself towards the pond and gripped the animal in my magic. A little surprised, I briefly wondered what to do next before deciding to go with my gut instinct. Which told me to breathe my essence into the dead pegasus until energy filled its every last pore.

Rise. I commanded.

And rise the creature did, stumbling into an awkward stand with all the grace of a newborn foal. I could tell all this because not only could I sense its movements but I could feel its body as it moved around. Its flesh was mostly intact, and it had suffered little apparent damage save for a scratch across the throat which wasn't deep enough to have killed it.

For a moment a slew of old yet new senses assaulted my confused mind, flooding it with smells and sounds I had not been able to pick up. I could detect the scent of rot, and the unpleasant aroma of standing water which had long since gone bad. Not only that but I could also pick up distant bird calls, buzzing insects and the scurry of small animals far in the distance.

Then my new eyes opened and I was gazing down on a reflection I never thought I’d see.

My mane was a two tone dark blue color reminiscent of a clouded sky, and my hair was a light grey that reminded me of rain. The pupils that stared back at me were a similar grey color, yet my sight was perfect despite the fact that I appeared blind. Turning my body to the side I noticed that my tail was the same color as my mane, though there was a strange symbol on my flank.

The image depicted several dark cumulonimbus clouds dumping rain and spitting cartoonish lightning bolts. Turning the other way revealed that an identical image was also stamped on my other side, further confusing me. It was an odd tattoo to give anyone, nevermind an animal which likely wouldn't appreciate getting stuck with so many needles.

The image was also slightly nostalgic in a way. It reminded me of something I only partially recalled. The finer details were gone, though I got the feeling that this image was an important one.

Filing that bit away for later I noted that the creature was thin. So thin in fact that it made me think it had perished from malnutrition, which made very little sense as there was plenty of grass. Looking around I found that the majority of the greenery had turned brown and was likely not a pleasant meal. Animal or no.

“Hello?” I whispered in my new voice, a little surprised to hear the English words.

I had always assumed horses lacked the more complex voice boxes that allowed speech. Yet here I was, talking like a remarkably innocent sixth grade girl with the slightest of speech impediments. The voice itself also felt familiar, and very, very human.

Did I just make up this voice or perhaps my magic gave it such a human sounding tone? I ruminated, pondering the many possibilities before pushing them all away. Too many questions, and not enough people to ask them to. I’ll have to wait until I find a sentient, magic using species before I can find the answers I seek.

With that in mind I decided to look around using my new eyes, only for my gaze to immediately settle on what I knew to be my true self.

Which happened to be the ugliest tree I’ve ever seen in either of my lives.

The deep brown trunk twisted in on itself, creating several deep shadows which seemed to grow from my branches and stretch out in all directions. My roots were gnarly and massive, the tops of which emerged from the ground, creating a web of blackened veins. My branches were numerous, and reached in all directions like a horde of skittering spiders bent on covering everything.

I also had a massive hole in my trunk which I had somehow not noticed before this very moment. Now that I had however, I couldn't help but focus on it, making me a little uncomfortable in the process. It was a huge vulnerability, and I could see that inside the blackened bark there was a vibrant deep brown core of normal looking wood.

It was a stark difference from my intimidating exterior, and the half dead leaves which clung from my branches. It was also just enough space to fit the tiny undead body I was now inhabiting, though I didn't test that at the moment. Instead I decided to look around and try to figure out more about my new surroundings.

The trees I could see in my vicinity were familiar to the ones I had seen while on a trip to the great lakes when I was kid. The wetlands had many towering, closely packed plants all fighting for sunlight amidst the many ponds and pools. Almost like a swamp, the trees here were mainly leafy like me, though there were a few firs amidst the bunch which stuck out.

Gazing out of the grove I could see that the natural wall of rock behind me was very tall, and it stretched on in both directions for as far as I could see. Which wasn't exactly far given how tiny my new body was. I could also tell that it was likely the very end of winter, for there were a few small pockets of snow which had yet to melt.

This was a bit of a relief, as it meant that I wasn't dying already, again. Or at least I hoped all I needed was a good rain and a few days of sun, because this hunger was beginning to grow irritating.

For a moment I looked around, and considered exploring my surroundings a little more, only to notice how low the sun had gotten. The clouds were painted a brilliant gold by the setting of the sun. A sight which confused me as the last time I had perceived them they had been white.

I must have spent longer than I thought bringing this horse back to life. I realized.

Not wanting to lose my sole servant to a passing wolf, or particularly ornery bear, I decided to test my earlier hypothesis. Sure enough my tiny body was able to fit into the empty space within my trunk, though climbing up into it was a bit of a hassle. Thankfully it wasn't too hard, and after the small horse was safe, I closed off my connection to her.

Now solely within my leafy form, I took a moment to consider my circumstances.

Yes I may be a tree, but at least that didn't mean I was blind or trapped in one spot. Furthermore I had gained a power that I had yearned for since I had lost my father as a child.

The power over life and death was one of the greatest abilities in fiction, at least in my opinion. What was super strength when you were forced to fight the reanimated remains of a two ton gorilla? Super speed could not outrun death, nor could flight escape its hungry maw.

Yes I might be a tree, but this was one perennial that was always going to come back for more.

Author's Note

DOOMED has also been updated so make sure to check out that!

Wood On Wood

Refocusing myself on my main body, I gathered what servants I could, and recalled the deer skull with all due haste. It wouldn't be here for a little while, and the rock covered crocodile would be much later still, but at least they were on their way. This left me with very little to defend myself with, save for bugs, rodents and a few smaller predators like foxes.

Time to find out if they are intelligent. I thought to myself.

Gathering up a buzzing swarm of insects, I commanded them to gather directly in the path of the wolves. Who walked right up to the cloud of winged creatures and observed them briefly before continuing on their way. I tried to sting, bite or otherwise annoy them with the swarm but they didn't seem to notice my meagre attacks.

So I recalled the horde, and focused purely on the small predators next. Assembling the critters, I waited patiently near a fallen log before leaping out all at once and ordering my servants to hiss menacingly. The act startled the lead wolf for a moment, but like with the bugs, they ignored my attempts at intimidation.

They recognize the threat, but aren't interested in attacking right away. Meaning they might be attempting diplomacy, or they simply acknowledge that there is no sustenance to be gained from zombies. I remarked to myself.

I pulled them all back and waited for a third time, this time it was in my grove, near my true body. Thankfully I didn't have to sit around for long, as soon the lead wolf and his wooden posse made their presence known. Stepping proudly into my humble abode, they spread out while the lead creature strode up to the pond, where he stopped.

It then gained a more regal, and curious stance, the lead wolf eying my form with a sharp, critical gaze. It seemed to be inspecting me, as it didn't make any sudden moves, nor did it seem intent on getting closer. At least for the moment anyway, which gave me the confidence to pull out my final test.

This came in the form of the filly, which I pushed out of my trunk and urged it to walk over to the wolf. This seemed to startle the creature more than the sudden appearance of a pack of undead, skeletal foxes leaping out at it. Though the wolf’s shock was quick to disappear, it remained somewhat unnerved even after recuperating.

It then opened its mouth and spoke, though the words were… difficult to comprehend.

I could pick out a couple, like lost, kid, and was able to garner that he was making a note of this change. My knowledge of his language was sparse though, leaving me with the impression that he was moreso talking to himself rather than me. From what I was able to gather, he knew this filly but wasn't angry or sad to find out that she had recently died.

So, sapient but cruel? Or perhaps a more simple predator that is just imitating speech? I ruminated, stopping my idly ponderings when the wolf stepped forward and began to speak again.

This time it seemed to be talking about me, but not to me as I could pick out the words ghoultree, rooted, mature, and fix. I pieced together that I was likely this ghoultree that he spoke of, and that he had apparently missed my presence. What exactly he meant by fixing this became more apparent when the rest of his wolves began to approach.

The pack leader also didn't seem angry, or distressed but rather just bored and grim. It was as if killing me was a task he had been assigned, rather then a murder he was about to carry out. This meant that either he was a cold blooded psychopath, or my race wasn't usually sapient which was possible. It's not exactly easy to measure the cognition level of a plant, but considering my skills it wouldn't be hard.

Such musings needed to be put away for the moment though, as I had a second death to avoid. So I spoke, using the filly to ask him to stop, engage in conversation and not attack me. I did all of this in deer, which I dearly hoped he spoke, or at least understood better then I understood his own language.

This move seemed to make him pause, and for a moment the lead wolf considered the filly. It then spoke again, this time I caught almost none of the words, which were all in his own language again. The bits I was able to parse seemed to be a dismissal of some kind, like he was brushing aside my attempt at diplomacy.

I offered him food, tribute, and territory, but that didn't stop nor slow his advance. Even pleading more desperately and laying a recent kill at his feet did not slow his steady march in my direction. It was at that moment that I realized just how little time I had left to truly consider my circumstances.

Evidently he knew of me, and my species considering the determination I saw in his eyes. Thus he at least had a plan on how to kill me, using tools he already had on him. This meant that simply allowing him to wear himself out clawing at my iron hard bark wasn't about to work. It also meant that diplomacy was completely out the window, though I couldn't discern why this was the case.

Abandoning any attempt to talk them down, I used my servants to gather up all the rope I had made previously. I also made sure that absolutely everyone was there, the ground and air quickly filling with my many undead followers. The largest of my creatures also grabbed the biggest rocks they could carry, and hauled anything capable of cracking wood.

This was about all the preparation I was able to do though, as the wolves soon broke into a sprint. The pack converged toward my main body, but was met with a tide of vermin that stopped their advance dead in its tracks. I knew this likely wouldn't last long, as there were a full dozen of the wolves, but I didn't need to win, only survive.

Stopping them wasn't even that difficult, as I merely threw everything I had directly into their eyes. Masses of undead insects, and swarms of small animals crowded their glowing sockets, blinding the pack. This was a bit of a hail mary given that undead didn't have to actually see using eyes, yet here we were.

The wolves scrambled, clawing at their faces, and taking off chunks of themselves by accident. The lesser beast’s movements were mechanical, unlike the lead wolf who was scooping the cloying bugs from his face. He at least had some manner of intelligence, and dunked his head in the pond before shaking himself vigorously.

When he pulled his head back out, his sopping wet assailants couldn't follow him any further. I was ready for this however, and leapt upon him as well as a few of his fellows with rope and sap in my many furry claws. Winding the fibrous strands around his body, I swiftly bound his limbs together all while slathering his form in sticky sap.

Confusion crossed the beast’s face a second before it was replaced by rage and he exploded outward with violent force. The weak ropes snapped, and the sap did little to restrain his incredible strength. His lessers werent quite so lucky though, as over half of them were already tied up and snapping ineffectively against their attackers.

Once bound, I got my various critters to pull at individual parts of the wolf, tearing off chunks and separating the smaller bits. This seemed to work, as whatever magic held them together couldn't overcome a thousand tiny hands yanking in all directions. With a scream and a pop, the first wolf exploded, releasing a cloud of black smoke before its various chunks fell inert.

My sense of victory was marred a second later when the lead wolf released a powerful howl that caused his fellows to glow a faint green. Whatever magic he had used had been powerful, as the lesser beasts were quickly growing stronger. Ropes snapped, and several escaped but not before I pulled apart two more of them, reducing them to piles of kindling.

I immediately fell back on simply clouding their vision and filling their skulls with vermin. This didn't work the second time, as my opponent had seemingly altered his creations in some way. Now when their eyes were full of squirming bugs, they didn't even bother to scoop them out, seemingly unbothered by the mass of undead.

Instead, they targeted the foxes, squirrels, and other pests I threw their way, clawing and biting at all they could reach. The first to fall was a young fox caught in the lead wolf’s jaws, the ensuing bite causing my essence to fly from the creature. This stung, and though it wasn't more painful than a pinch, it was the first of what I knew would be many.

Sure enough, with their senses having been altered, the wolves didn't need to use their eyes anymore. So they were free to target the largest of my tiny soldiers with relative impunity. My ropes and sap didn't do much either, so I focused my efforts almost completely on two of the lesser wolves.

My distraction worked just long enough for me to drag down and pull apart one of the creatures. His ally however, was saved by the alpha wolf, who was quick to kill off the trio of foxes attacking the downed beast. With the death of the third small predator I had officially lost almost everything bigger than a shoebox.

With grim irritation I summoned the last of my reserves and for a moment the sun vanished behind a cloud. A cloud of undead wings, and rotten feathers filled the sky, the various zombified birds having gorged themselves on stones. Bodies heavy with rock and earth, they rained down from the heaven, pelting the wolves in a seducidal dive bomb.

This would have been relatively easy to dodge, however several seconds before they began their descent I had sent another order. This one sent all my rats, squirrels, and other small four legged creatures into not the wolf's eyes but their joints. Limbs now full of twisting creatures and rotten meat, my attackers struggled to move with any amount of grace.

Only the lead wolf was able to ignore my attempts to bog him down, his more powerful limbs simply turning my servants to paste. His allies werent quite as strong, or as fast, so they found themselves pelted by birds dive bombing them in a single massive wave. The winged creatures weighed down by rocks, struck true, shattering wood as well as their own tiny bodies.

Their thin, hallow bones couldn't handle the punishment and shattered almost immediately but I didn't need them to survive. Several hundred birds slamming into the wooden wolves at a little faster than terminal velocity had done plenty of damage. Four wolves went down immediately, their heads crumpling under my barrage of undead suicide bombers. A sixth was rendered unable to move as I had crippled three out of four of his legs, leaving him crawling weakly with his remaining limb.

My smaller servants soon swarmed the downed beast and tore him apart within seconds. The remaining four wolves had taken only glancing hits, or had managed to take cover and avoid my attack. The lead wolf was completely unharmed, and quickly freed his subordinates from the mass of rodents clogging up their movements.

This left me with next to no one left other than a few swarms of insects, and the filly which I knew wouldn't be able to do much. She was simply too small, and weak, plus I was hesitant to risk her given the fact that she was my only semi normal servant. The rest were either insects, rodents, or a floating glowing deer skull which people werent likely to want to have a conversation with.

As I scrambled to come up with something, and the four remaining wolves neared me, I felt a ping at the back of my mind. The deer skull had returned, and was sailing over the treetops near my position, magic already building in its empty head. This confluence of magic seemed to startle the lead wolf, who sensed it and looked up in search of its origin.

What he found was a flaming head that burned white hot with eldritch energy. Which was unleashed in an orb that shot towards the ground, and upon hitting it, turned into a rippling wave of green. Roots large enough to grapple a creature twice the size of a wolf wrapped about their many limbs, dragging the wooden beasts to the earth.

This seemed to work for the moment, which was good as it was the only spell the deer knew which didn't take five or more minutes to cast. Worse still, it took a good chunk of my remaining magical reserves, leaving me with dangerously little to call upon. The various trees and plants of my network were giving back what they could, but it was a slow, drawn out process to return that borrowed energy.

Thankfully the lesser wolves had been completely immobilized with only the largest wolf able to even stay standing. That was being generous however, as it was still being slowly dragged down beneath the wave of crushing wooden tentacles. Which I urged to constrict and snuff out the remaining lesser wolves in an effort to destroy them once and for all.

With another pulse of energy the command was sent out, and a bit more of my magic was used. A second later and the three smaller wolves were turned to tinder, their forms crumpling under the wrathful roots. I did not, however, see several puffs of black smoke that signalled their demise, and instead saw several motes of green energy.

These orbs gathered up the dead wood that had once housed their essence and pulled it towards a central point. Which happened to be the lead wolf, who called all of the remaining energy into himself, or at least he tried to. I attempted to stop this by throwing insects into the orbs, and restraining them physically with what few servants I had left.

This effort was unfortunately in vain, as the various spheres travelled uneringly into the larger wolf. Who grew exponentially larger, and stronger with each one of the orbs he managed to take into himself. I tried to counter this by focusing all the roots on him, but that proved ineffectual, as the sole remaining wolf shrugged them all off.

He then swiped away the remaining wooden tentacles, freeing himself completely from my grasp. Now utterly unrestrained, and four times as big as he had been a few seconds earlier, there was little I could do. That didn't mean I gave up however, as I threw everything I had at him in a single go, attempting to slow him down.

I didn't need to keep him at bay for long, as the rock crocodile was closing in, but that didn't mean I liked my chances. Unfortunately for me, the various swarms were completely ignored, as the great wooden monster leapt at me. In a single bound it traveled the last of the way up to my trunk and slammed into me with all the force of what felt like a runaway freight train.

Yet, despite its incredible size I not only managed to stay standing, but my bark was unmarred by the attack. I reasoned that my defence stat was quite high which allowed me to shake off the attack. A move which annoyed the wolf, who had seemingly thought he could bowl me over with a single powerful tackle.

With that strike all but thwarted, the wolf scratched at my trunk, raking its enormous razor sharp claws down my body. This did a little more, but it still felt more like getting a rather aggressive back scratching rather than a lethal attack. The wolf also seemed to realize this and adjusted his aim to remove my branches with his massive paws.

This was more effective, but even then he could only manage to tear off the smaller ones. Though not pleasant, and akin to having a finger cut off, I, fortunately, had a lot of them. So as the minutes ticked by, and I lost more limbs, I felt my panic turn to indignant rage.

No longer was I worried for my demise, but was instead eagerly looking forward to crushing the fool who dare attack me. My foe seemed to detect my burgeoning confidence as well and threw himself at me with increasing ferocity. Abandoning all attempts at a measured, calm response, he bellowed loudly, announcing his intention on ending me.

His jaws clamped onto a rather large low hanging branch while all four of his legs scratched down my trunk. Suspended only by a single limb, the beast shook its head violently, attempting to take the branch off while cutting through my iron hard defences. This unfortunately succeeded, as the bough was torn from my main body with a loud, and painful crack.

My bark received a dozen new gouges, but the damage was superficial at best. I had also lost a good majority of my leaves, the things having been shaken clean off me due to the wolf’s attack. Which ended soon after, as the crack thump of the arriving rocky crocodile grabbed its attention as surely as the winding roots had done only a few seconds earlier.

The wolf released an angry, surprised yelp the second his eyes landed on my returning servant. It then tried to intimidate it with a loud, powerful howl that would have sent any living creature running in terror. The stone covered lizard however, was not alive, and barreled forward without so much as slowing down for a single second.

This surprised the wolf yet again, though this time he didn't get the chance to adjust and change tactics. As my monstrous servant lowered its shoulder and leapt into a tackle aimed straight at the wolf’s midsection. Too startled to move very far, my attacker was caught and then crushed between me and my servant.

Like a rat caught between hammer and anvil, the wolf was dashed asunder, crushed utterly by the attack. His form simply crumpled under the immense weight, and my unmoving, implaccable mass. In an instant his body was turned to little more than shattered timber and numerous half rotten splinters.

A second later a large billowing cloud of black smoke belched forth from the wolf’s former center of mass. This time however, I didn't let it get far, and like it was a creature laid at my roots, I pulled hard, attempting to drink the energy. I was immediately hit by one of the most unpleasant flavours I had ever had the misfortune of tasting. It did not however, feel like it was poisonous or harmful to me, rather it was like drinking some manner of organic perfume.

No matter how gross it was, I persevered through it all, intent on adding insult to injury by devouring the essenece.

The black cloud was stopped in mid air, though it was trying to escape my grasp by floating away. Thin trickles of smog slipped eastward from the main mass, as if sliding through my metaphysical fingers. This attempt was ultimately useless however, as I was determined to gorge myself on the strange energy.

So with a second, more powerful tug, I pulled the cloud towards my roots. Though it resisted my efforts, this was a fight it could not win. I was, after all, many things, and spiteful was near the top of that list of attributes.

When the cloud neared the ground, it seemingly accepted its fate, and sank into the earth without further struggling. Like the meat I had consumed before it, this mass of energy filled me with power, only this time it felt much different. Where before I knew I could share that strength with the grove, this was not something that they would be able to store for me.

This necromantic energy was the antithesis to life, and though poison to my neighbors, it was sweet ambrosia to me. Like the most sugary of wines, it filled me with warmth, excitement and an unexpected amount of vitality. I felt almost high for a second, my entire wooden form trembling as power coursed through the core of my being.

Then it was gone, and I though I gained no new skills or abilities, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

This was not the end of the fight, rather this was just the calm before my foe struck me with every last ounce of strength he had.

Author's Note

Lock Without Key

Once more my gaze turned outward, to my grove and to a lesser extent the forest beyond my immediate presence. I began to plan once more, though that thought was cut off when I realized that Stalwart’s bones were still out there. Forgotten and discarded after I had recalled her, she rose from the bush she had been dumped in and made her way toward me.

With that done, I then found myself once more distracted, though this time it was by curiosity. You see I had noticed Quaking Yew’s severed limb laying on the ground and began to wonder to myself. Could it be raised? It was already ‘dead’ so I couldn't gain any skills but it may be able to be brought back, I thought.

I had to know for sure.

Summoning my earth pony servant, I dragged over the limb and used my magic to bring the severed appendage back to life. Or at least that was my intention, because rather then spring back up, it merely trembled for a moment before turning in the direction Quaking Yew had departed. It then twitched left, as if following the deer’s movements before becoming still once more a few seconds later.

I could feel the appendage like I could with all my servants but I couldn't move it, only put a bit more power into it. Doing this a second time just made the thing twitch, as if Quaking Yews was outside its range or my assumption was incorrect. Regardless of the answer, I wouldn't have the opportunity to figure it out at the moment so I stowed it away in my hollow.

I then moved to observing my newest servants, taking stock of what they had on them. Their armor was mostly intact, as were their weapons, though Honey Ray’s equipment was far worse off. They little in the way of personal effects or other items, or at least any that were not destroyed during the scuffle.

The earth pony’s armor was still glowing faintly though, making me curious and begin wondering what I could utilize it for. The most obvious possibility was simply leaving it on the corpse so it could have a bit more protection but I wanted to test something. I stopped myself before setting my plan into motion though, instead choosing to begin testing with the golden hammer that pulsed occasionally with an inner light.

Dropping it on my roots, I pulled as if it were a corpse, attempting to consume the enchantments on it. I had assumed this would do nothing, but my slowly growing magical knowledge hinted that it may be possible. Surprisingly I felt the enchantments begin to strain, and bend beneath my will, nearly breaking after a bit of pushing on my part.

Putting a bit more strength into it, I pulled apart the enchantment, causing the weapon to explode and my energy reserves to suddenly fill up. Bits of flying metal stuck into my trunk, and flew all over the grove, but did little damage save for leaving behind a scorch mark. That didn't concern me however, as I felt the surge of power begin to burn me from the inside, as if I had swallowed lava.

Unsure of what to do with it, I pushed it outward through the network and towards my green brethren. They seemed far more adept at putting it to use, as they happily accepted my sudden gift with open, metaphorical, arms. For a moment they shone with an inner radiance, before devouring that light and using it to grow, or repair themselves.

Those trees and bushes savaged during the attack leaped back to life, shooting back up as if nothing had happened. The grass became soft once more, and new small golden flowers sprouted all over the grove. Though it felt a bit like a slap in the face to suddenly have a bunch of yellow flowers adorning my inner sanctum I let them be. They didn't choose to be planted there, and if I was being honest they were rather pretty and reminded me of tiny sunflowers.

A sudden crack made me turn my attention skyward, to where some dark clouds had gathered. Scattered though they currently were, I could see a storm front approaching from the horizon. This in turn caused my thoughts to go back to Honey Ray’s dying words and her proclaimation that my days were numbered.

Assembling a force capable of defeating me, and also reaching my current location would take considerable time. I was hundreds of miles from the border of ‘civilization’ though I wasn't exactly certain as knowledge of maps seemed to half fall under the category of skill and half memory. Regardless, I knew that they wouldn't immediately send out someone to check on the missing group. After that it would be a while before they mustered, and then actually made the trip, giving me the time I needed.

Pushing that thought from mind, I went back to focusing on my grove, and repairing the damage dealt to it. Thankfully the power of the enchantment was such that nearly every bit of brutalized foliage had been restored. A few trees and bushes were beyond repair, and would serve as compost, their sacrifice appreciated and not forgotten.

I then ordered Honey Ray’s skeletal body to go back to the fir tree I had contacted earlier. I had a debt to repay, and some pruning to do. I would also need to weed around the cranky ancient, and remove the invasive moss growing on his east side but that was fine. I owed him one, and intended on paying him back in full.

I also made a note for Honey Rays to carry out similar tasks with the other trees and bushes that had come to my defence. It was kind of poetic in a way, that Honey Ray’s corpse would be the one to return the favor and help the plants. That would take time, but that was okay, as I had other things to focus on, like for one, my draconic servant and the injuries he suffered.

I tried to remedy this by simply attaching the missing pieces, but for some reason that didn't work. Using necromancy on them also didn't help, and it seemed to me as though they had become inanimate after being separated from the main body. I was a bit at a loss and was tempted to try making something out of wood or metal but had no tools to do so.

I then paused, and decided to ask the trees so to speak, posing the question to the council as I had begun to refer to them. I couldn't put into words exactly what was said, though it was kind of like sending them an image of the dragon and saying incomplete. That was relatively close to what happened, and it seemed to work as several plants began to grab my attention.

First were several saplings that had iron hard roots, and could grow almost anywhere with little complaint. The second were some vines that secreted a sticky sap that caused clumps of dirt to stick to it. Finally there was a moss that when left to its own devices spread far and wide, creating a thick matt that competed with others by covering their potential opponents, robbing them of sunlight.

I picked up on their intentions rather quickly, and gathered up a few seeds, some samples, and brought them over to me. Gathering up some dirt, I filled the dragon’s rib cage before planting all three of the plants inside the mass. It took a bit of power, and good amount of focus but the results would turn out to be quite worth the effort.

The vines grew quickly, becoming a sort of connective tissue that kept the dirt from simply falling back out of the dragon’s ribcage. The moss then covered the exterior, becoming a sort of skin that almost looked like scales when in the right light. Finally the trees sprouted from the dragons back and extended roots down the boney limbs, replacing the missing sections.

Seeing how successful this entire process was, I got to work covering the rest of him with dirt. I didn't want to rush things too much though so I used only a bit of power, allowing the plants to grow more naturally. Eventually I knew they would cover the entire dragon, and make him look like a walking forest complete with several stumpy trees sprouting from his back.

I planned on adding to him by planting some toxic mushrooms, and maybe even hollowing out a section inside of him. That would come later though, for now I just made sure to continuialy bail water onto the sections that were still growing. Along with plenty of light, and a trickle of energy, the plants grew steadily, creating a sort of flesh over the undead’s bones.

Regardless of how effective it was, the result would be a visage far less intimidating, or at kind of. At least the thestrals wouldn't have to look at the face of their former captor constantly, so that was something.

With that in motion, and my newest servants attending to the process, I surveyed the area once more, noting that an hour or so had passed. I didn't want to keep Pen Stroke and Tall Order waiting, but I wanted to do one last inspection first.

Ahh, of course. I thought to myself.

Dragging over the corpses of the deceased ponies that had been raised only to be killed a second time, I pulverized their bodies, turning them to fertilizer. Their equipment I gathered up, and simply left in a pile for the moment. I considered eating the magic but held off for the moment. They could be useful, though they may also have locator runes, or some other such magic that may be detrimental to me in the long turn.

I would ask the thestrals before simply destroying them all however. I hastily covered them in dirt and hid them away for the moment and put all thought of them out of mind. With little else to do I refocused back on Rainy, peering through the filly’s eyes.

What I saw was a rather chaotic affair, with thestrals arguing and yelling at one another. Arranged along a long table, the winged ponies were clearly panicking and had split into camps. From a brief listen I could tell that one group wished to flee deeper south while the other side wanted to stay.

Or at least thats what I assumed they were saying as their voices were muffled.

Rainy, dear. Could you please remove your hooves from your ears? I gently asked.

Nuh uh. They are just gonna keep yelling. Rainy retorted.

I knew I could simply force her to, but chose not to. Why don't you go inhabit that lizard and go explore some more while I borrow your body in order to deal with the hubbub?

Rainy considered it for only a moment before agreeing. Kay, bye. Was all I got out of her before she left her body behind and willed her consciousness to enter the undead lizard she had brought with her. My first instinct was to chide her for her impetious nature, but she was a child and should be granted whatever modicum of play I could.

“Ahem,” I declared, clearing Rainy’s throat.

“We need to flee, now!” yelled a rather large, barrel chested mare. “If her scouts are here her inquisitors can't be far behind.”

“But we don't know that for certain. All Rainy said was that Xathrid was fighting someone in gold armor,” retorted a thin, emaciated looking stallion.

“Oh right, because there are so many other golden armored ponies out there. Get real Orchid,” retorted the first mare.

I rolled my eyes and stood up before pounding a hoof into the table several times. “Quiet, quiet!” I shouted.

On the third impact, a hunk of the stone table fell off, clattering to the ground loud enough to stop the arguments. All eyes turned to me, including Tall Order, who I noticed sat at the far end.

“Good,” I proclaimed, plunking back down in my chair. “I could barely hear myself think over the clatter.”

“Xathrid, I presume,” Tall Order proclaimed.

“Indeed, and I bring news on the solar scouts,” I began.

That caused a few ponies to sigh and the general anxiety of the room to fall at least somewhat. Some looked to me anxiously, seemingly expecting terrible news, yet hopeful that they may be wrong.

“Its mixed I’m afraid,” I declared. “Diplomacy rather predictably failed, but I was able to wipe them out.”

“Thank all the stars in the sky,” muttered the thin stallion I saw earlier.

“But thats not all, right?” offered another thestral.

“No. They had a dead man’s switch in place wherein a squad will eventually go looking for them starting with their last confirmed location,” I answered.

“The sooner we pack up, the sooner we can find somewhere truly safe,” offered the large mare.

“We don't have the supplies, or really anywhere else to go. This is on the very edge of our maps,” added a voice.

“I refuse to run any further,” stated another.

“The other refugees will be coming here in a matter of days. If we leave they will be defenceless!” shouted a rather shrill voice from the back.

“Wait, there are more of you coming?” I asked.

“Yes,” Tall Order remarked. “I had mentioned this in passing once but the first wave should be arriving in less then a week. More will arrive in the coming months if they can flee the border before winter sets in.”

“So drawing the ire of the forces along the border may actually be beneficial to your kind,” I thought aloud. “I suppose thats a silver lining.”

“That may be but we should still consider departing before winter. The snows will clog the passes and make travel impossible,” offered a rather young mare sitting to my right.

“Wait. Wouldn't that hold up any squads sent to investigate the missing scouts?” I asked.

“Its possible but if they send a smaller group they may still be able to get through the pass before it fills up with snow and the skies become treacherous,” Tall Order stated.

“I don't think you all should leave. At least not yet,” I stated confidently. “They don't know about this city, and while you are recovering in my grove we can fortify the forest, while also seeking out the diamond dogs and your missing people.”

“That is a rather bold plan,” Tall Order remarked, clearly not totally convinced.

“Its the best plan we have,” added another voice.

The room became quiet, and various whispered conversations broke out. Throughout it all I eyed up Tall Order, the stallion clearly drawn inward, considering things carefully. I caught snippets and was able to deduce that they seemed on board, but werent totally convinced.

That was fine though. Not even I was wholly convinced by my own plan.

“The situation here is untenable,” Tall Order stated rather suddenly.

Looking up, I noticed that the room had fallen silent, and all eyes were on the thestral leader.

“We will move to your grove fully until such time as the diamond dog threat has been dealt with and we have had the chance to recover,” Tall Order proclaimed.

“What about the next wave?” asked a voice.

“We will make sure to have someone ready at the meeting place, and guide them to Xathrid’s grove. If we have not moved back into the keep by then,” Tall Order added.

“I thank you for showing such trust in me. I know your options are limited but I swear to you that your faith is not misplaced,” I added.

“See that it isn't,” Tall Order declared rather firmly. “I detest being in another’s debt you have already assisted us quite a bit.”

I smiled. “Hey, what are friends for?”

That seemed to soften Tall Order’s expression somewhat, and he grinned back at me. “Well said. We’ll finish preparations to move within a day’s time and set out as soon as we are rested and ready,” Tall Order stated.

“I will keep a close eye on the deathguard in order to ensure that no more diamond dog’s catch you by surprise,” I added.

“The deathguard?” Someone asked.

“The uh… volunteers,” I murmured. “I know we had a different name for them but this is way cooler.”

“I suppose it is fitting,” Tall Order muttered. “But we can discuss that later. For now, I’d ask that you leave us to our deliberation.”

“As you wish,” I replied, silently quite glad that they wanted some privacy.

Rainy had been caught up in the whole debacle mostly by accident and had been too polite to simply leave. At least now she could go back to doing whatever it is she was doing before I had accidentally incovnienced her. Stepping outside, I noticed that we were in one of the upper levels of the keep, one ill used and more damaged but safer from diamond dogs.

You may have your body back. I offered.

Nah I kinda wanna be a lizard some more. There are so many cool places around here, like this weird door I found a while ago. Rainy offered.

“Weird door?” I muttered aloud. “May I see?”

Sure but make it quick please. I like being a lizard. Rainy replied.

Switching places with the filly, I found myself within the diminutive form of the undead reptile. Its sight was magical, allowing me to see in the complete darkness I suddenly found myself immersed in. Looking around I found that there was indeed a large steel door directly in front of me.

There was no handle visible, or any method of opening it, and it was almost completely featureless save for a keyhole. Clambering up the remarkably slick door, I peered through the keyhole, but could see nothing at all on the other side. I noted that the door was strangely cold and seemed to pulse faintly with energy. Energy that made me feel uncomfortable yet was also slightly familiar in a way that I couldn't quite put to words.

Back on the ground, I noticed that there was only a foot or two of space and then simply another wall. Down at the bottom right there was a tiny crack, one just big enough for a fleshless lizard to squeeze themselves into. After doing so I once more inspected my surroundings and found I was in a seemingly random hallway in the upper levels of the keep.

Up here the floor was in a poor state, with chunks having fallen away, creating a hazardous area few were brave enough to explore. Despite how destroyed it was, I could tell that it had likely served as a home away from home for foreign dignitaries or perhaps a royal family. The decorations that were visble were lavish, but utterly ruined by the passage of time and decades or centuries of neglect.

The wall I had just emerged from was perfectly flat, and looked totally normal, with not a single brick out of place. It seemed to me as though someone had essentially bricked up the entrance, though why I couldn't comprehend. They were protecting or perhaps hiding something but given my non existent knowledge of who had called this place home I couldn't even make a guess as to what that was.

Weird, huh? Rainy asked.

Quite so Rainy. I thought. Quite so.