Whoever the hell said life is as hard as you make it, had a fucking easy godamn life.
Imagine some poor kid born into a poor family in the middle of a war-torn nation. It doesn't really matter what kind of war but I like to imagine a civil war as those tend to be rife with cruelty. It also doesn't matter where in the world you imagine this child either. Though most first world nations like to pretend like the ‘civilized world’ doesn't, and never has had their bloody internal power struggles the truth of the matter is they do and have.
Alright, so now we got this kid, yeah, he can be black, white, Asian, whatever, that part doesn't matter. Now imagine his parents die at a very young age, he gets no education, no extended family is left, and now she's starving on the street and only barely able to speak. Now imagine he spends years in that existence, eeking out a living scrounging what she can find discarded by those who are not struggling quite as much as this child is.
Now imagine he's drafted as a child soldier, brainwashed, drugged, and tossed into a war zone with a weapon she can't even name. Forced into a situation where it's kill or be killed, the child kills their first opponent only to be killed by the second. Now imagine that child goes to hell for the crime of murder and then tell me that's justice.
What's the point of all this hyperbole you might ask? Well, it's simple, where were the kid's options? At no point did they ever receive a chance to do much of anything other than decide to live or die. The only meaningful decision they were ever capable of was choosing to let themself waste away or continue to struggle.
What I’m trying to say is, sometimes life just shits on you, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Justice is a nice concept, but in reality, it's arbitrary, wielded by the powerful, and thus corrupted by that same wielder. We like to think that justice is beyond such things, but if you could see me, and thus look me in the eye, I doubt you would be able to tell me that the rich don't have it easier.
That the powerful, don't have an easier life than us peons.
I’m getting off track though. My point is, that life can sometimes shit on you for no other reason than you happen to exist. That's it, no rhyme, reason, karmic or otherwise, just one day your life is great, and the next, it sucks.
That's me, that's the story of my life.
I was young when the aneurysm hit me.
It was a few days after my twenty-fifth birthday in fact, and I had even just bought an engagement ring and was preparing to ask my boyfriend to marry me.
Then, I just dropped and though I didn't hit my head on anything, I was deemed ‘lucky’ because at least I wasn't driving or having a bath at the time. If you can't already tell, I disagree with being labeled lucky, as I much rather would have drowned, or drove into a wall and at least died quickly.
But no, life had other plans.
After that things blurred together for a while, as I slipped in and out of consciousness, either forcefully due to the drugs they pumped me full of, or just because my brain was fucked. When finally I came to and was able to take stock of my surroundings, I was met with the sound of yelling.
Like a lot of yelling.
Turns out the nurse that had supposed to be watching me had left me in the hands of her replacement without checking if her replacement had shown up. Something that I later discovered was not only against hospital policy but was also illegal, as I was a high-risk patient.
Sure enough, I apparently had a heart attack, and no one found out about it until an hour later. After that, I had received a hasty operation, which the surgeon decided to rush because he wanted to buy Christmas presents for his kids. As you can probably already guess, that didn't end well for me either, and I was paralyzed from the very tippity top of my head down to my goddamn toes.
I was a prisoner in my own body, and oh sure the case they had against the hospital was cut and dry, but for a reason that should be obvious to you, the fact that my family was going to get rich off my suffering didn't exactly help me much. The long and short of it was there was not a goddamn thing they could do that would help me at this point. There were a few experimental treatments, sure, but they either did nothing or made my already agonizing existence somehow even worse.
I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say I wasted away.
My boyfriend stopped visiting first, and I couldn't really blame him, I already considered myself dead at this point anyway. He deserved to be happy after all, no matter how much his tear-filled goodbye made me want to die for real. Then the family stopped showing up one by one until all that was left was my dad, who turned out to be the one who made the decision to pull the plug on my undead ass.
And just like that, I went from a member of the less than walking dead, to just the dead part.
Oh and before you go start feeling too bad for me, let me just say that I wasn't a saint by any stretch of the imagination. I drank a little too much on the weekends, didn't save money, was generally not very good with said money, and was a bit of a dick when I was younger. I also volunteered at a shelter three times a month and donated one pay cheque a year to charity. There were more good things I did, and more bad things too, but suffice it to say I was neither a good person nor a bad person.
I also certainly didn't deserve to have all that shit happen to me.
This is about the part of the story where you would expect me to say something inspirational huh?
Like; Despite my suffering, I always held on to hope, and never gave up, and in the end, death is just a part of life. Or, my time may have been short, but I lived by my own creed, and that I regret nothing.
But that isn't me, and that wasn't how I felt.
The moment I got briefed on what happened to me, I knew I was dead, and that there was nothing I could do about it. I was an unmoving corpse with the mind of a twenty-five-year-old man who knew his end was coming. I was a zombie, an undead abomination kept alive only through the good graces of modern science. I never once considered the possibility of living anything close to a normal life after that very first one-way conversation.
All I wanted, all I hoped for, was for my family to let me die and for them to move on.
They were alive, and deserved to stay living, and have the chance to be happy, I thought. I was a corpse and had no feelings, no future, and no hope. I was deadweight, both literally and metaphorically, and should have been cast off far earlier than when I had been.
So, obviously, this isn't the end of my story, as not only would it be depressing, but also pretty damn boring. Something I wouldn't fucking read, that's for damn sure.
But, just like how this isn't the end of my story, it wasn't the end of me either.
You see, there was something after death, not heaven, or hell, or anything between, just a void where you floated endlessly in. I was shocked that there was anything at all, as I was kinda hoping I would just stop existing entirely, and being an atheist, I kinda assumed that was what was going to happen to me.
But there I was, floating in an endless nothing, neither existing nor not existing.
I know what your thinking, that sounds like hell to me, but it really wasn't. I wasn't truly aware of anything, as time itself didn't seem to exist. Unbound from the laws of the universe, and the trappings of flesh, I had no thoughts, feelings, or experiences, just, nothing. Even now I struggle to remember what happened in that space between, as all that remains of that time is a long darkness.
As you can probably imagine I didn't remain in that void forever, and after a small eternity, or no time at all, something tore through the walls of my prison and grabbed me. A literal hand now held what must have been my soul tight in its grip, before retreating back from wherever it came from, me in tow.
I would have been elated if I was capable of feeling such a thing, unfortunately, that was quite beyond me, however, and all I could do was float there. Until the hand, and with it, me, breached the walls of the void and I returned to reality once more. After that, my ability to perceive things grew a little fuzzy and hard to properly explain.
Even more so than usual, that is.
It was like being blind, deaf, and standing in the middle of a pool while people swam all around you. I could feel the ripples coming through the water, and even felt someone brush against me from time to time, while also not being like that at all. I know, I’m not exactly explaining this very well, but it's not exactly a situation that you can put into words very easily. I had not only lost all my old senses but gained new ones, new ones that were so unlike anything that it's hard to describe a point of reference.
Let me try again.
I could feel the ripples in the water, but as soon as they hit ‘me’ I could also sense where they had been, and where they originated from both backward, and forwards through time. Now, do you get how hard it is to explain all this? It's like describing the color red to someone who’s never seen the color red and has been blind since birth for that matter.
So, after going from existing within a zero-dimensional space, to a fourth-dimensional one, I was rather perplexed, or rather I would have been had I some sort of biological ability to feel things. Without a brain to process emotions, and thoughts I just sort of was.
Regardless of all that, I was then thrust into something that felt oddly cold, thus signaling the return of at least one of my senses. This also heralded the loss of my weird new senses and the return of the rest of my old ones, and to say the switch was jarring would be an understatement. All at once I was a biological thing again, or at least I had the capability of experiencing emotions and constructing thoughts anyway, I didn't know if I truly was a biological thing at all.
Which again, would be nice if my previous existences had not been so divorced from any kind of reference point as to ascend beyond any notion of pleasant, or unpleasant for that matter.
Now when I said my senses returned, you might think such an event would be an orderly one, with my senses returning one by one, but that was not the case. They came back all at once, overloading my new mind with a synesthesia of light, sound, color, touch, and taste. Everything blurred together, to the point that even the very ability to sense where my body parts were in relation to one another was mixed up with a million other things.
Eventually, my mind began to force order on chaos, and sort out my experiences into something I could actually make sense of. One experience became untangled from another until eventually the mass that was my existence was sorted out.
I blinked, and looked around, finding myself in what looked like a cave of some kind.
Water dripped somewhere nearby, and though I saw no light sources, I could see just fine. Stalactites and stalagmites littered the area, though the immediate space around me had been cleared and leveled, allowing for a sort of ritual circle to be constructed beneath me.
Looking closer, I realized that it was some sort of mana confluence point with a few dozen other enchantments placed around it, though how I knew that was a mystery. Instead of being repulsed by this new knowledge, I indulged in it, plumbing the depths of my new, and altogether foreign mind.
I learned that the mana that had been directed into the circle was further refined by the enchantments which bled off bits and pieces of the mana until seemingly nothing was left. Yet I knew that shouldn't be possible, as there was power further down the line and ending at me. I recalled that this process was usually used to create a specific type of mana that was aligned with one of the various schools of magic.
The one confusing part was how the array seemed to strip away all colors, effectively leaving nothing behind only for that not to be true, as something was coming out the end. It was colorless, yet not grey, as grey is a color, and this was the very absence of color itself. Once more, I find myself struggling to describe what was happening as it was neither grey, nor clear, nor any other description I can imagine. It was simply the reverse of color, confusing, I know.
Regardless, I shook my head and looked away from the channels of mana carved into the cave floor, and looked down upon myself. I was in the body of what looked like a dragon of some kind if a dragon had oddly cartoonish proportions. Spyro sprung to mind first, only for that image to be quickly quashed as I was bipedal, which was nice.
I decided to start with my hands, as that seemed like an important place to begin at. They were large, both in comparison to the rest of my body and my old body. Which made sense, as they had short claws on the end of each one of my digits. They were also covered in dark purple scales which struck me as odd for some reason, but why I felt that way was not readily apparent.
Moving on, I glanced down at my torso and found that I had a strip of slightly thicker dark green scales running down from my neck and ending at my crotch. Though I couldn't find my junk at the moment, I knew that it was there, somewhere, not like I wanted to think about that right now mind you but it was nice to know I didn't change genders or was neutered somehow. The thicker, wider scales along my stomach also seemed odd and discolored somehow, but again, I couldn't make heads or tails of why that was.
The rest of my body was more or less as you’d expect. I had big, clawed feet to support my large body, with legs that were straight, and sporting traditional knees, which meant I was indeed supposed to walk upright. My tail was also fairly long, at least half the length of the rest of my body, while also sporting deep green spines all the way down to the spade-shaped tip. I also had a pair of wings on my back, but the interior of them seemed to have been damaged at some point as they were absolutely shredded, with little flesh left to even stretch between them.
It was all rather confusing, but I was just glad to be in a male’s body, and to walk upright, never mind the addition of having wings. I could even move them with relative ease, though a quick test flap revealed that they were as useless as they appeared. Still, that at least meant I had a chance of flying under my own power, something I dreamt of constantly in my old life. With all that in mind, I was fairly unbothered by my change in species, as I at least had all the important parts of my old one, plus magic was real apparently, and I knew a lot about it, which was pretty damn awesome.
Remembering that I had yet to look at my face, I searched around for a mirror, or at least a pool of water and after finding the source of the dripping sound from earlier, near the back of the cave, stared into it. Only to be shocked by what I found, though I suppose in hindsight it explained why everything was cold, and my sense of touch was so dulled. I was dead, a fact made obvious due to the fact that I was missing an eye and a good chunk of my face.
My left eyeball and the space around it were completely gone, as well as the portion of my skull that was behind it. There was no brian left within, though I did still seem to have muscle and tendons which lay exposed to the open air. Prodding the inside of my head made me uncomfortable, so I quickly stopped that, and continued the visual inspection of my face.
I had a firm, square jaw and a mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth as well as a long serpentine tongue. The interior of my mouth was black, no doubt due to the fact that this body was dead. The spines I saw along my back went all the way up my skull and stopped just above my brow line, growing longer and more dominant after reaching my neck. I also had a small trio of frill-like extensions that jutted from the side of my face that was still fully intact.
Taking a step back, I frowned, and pondered my fate, only to facepalm when I realized the irony of my situation.
I went from a non-literal undead to a literal undead. Fate had a rather twisted sense of humor, I thought to myself.
Putting that gripe aside, for now, I stared back into my reflection and took stock of my one remaining eye. Though glassy, I could still see the bright green iris within as well as the vertical, draconic pupil. Other then that I had a row of scales just above my eyes that resembled eyebrows, which was odd, but not the strangest thing I’ve seen today.
Stepping away from the puddle I began to pace and truly take stock of my situation.
I didn't seem to lack depth perception, and my one remaining eye was no doubt blind, meaning I didn't see due to any traditional means. I figured that most of my senses had a sort of magical equivalent as my skull was quite empty, never mind the hole going right through my head. I also didn't seem to feel any pain, though it did feel unpleasant when I touched the inside of my skull.
I remembered that dragons breathed fire, lightning, or other elementally oriented things depending on their race and after breathing deeply, I exhaled only for nothing to happen. Frowning, I came to the conclusion that whatever organ that allowed a dragon unleash elemental destruction was no doubt gone or was otherwise too damaged to function. With a sigh, I scratched breathing fire off the list of cool things this body could do and decided to test its strength, as dragons were supposed to be strong.
Gripping a stalactite, I tried to rip it off the ceiling only to crush the stone into iddy biddy pieces before I could get that far. Winding up, I then punched the wall, and ended up making the whole cave shake and bringing a grin to my face. I was strong, very strong, stronger than a dragon my size should be, I quickly remembered.
I could already tell that this weird memory of mine was going to come in handy, as I sure as shit didn't want to have to learn how to talk again. Or do something needlessly pedantic like relearning what a chair was or the cultural norms of whatever the prevailing society was.
Nodding to myself, I turned and began to walk out of the cave, happy to find that my legs knew what they were doing without me having to think about it. After a few feet, however, the cave became far less flat, and turned sharply to the right, while also rising a few feet. Thankfully it didn't narrow much, and after taking the turn I noticed light coming from the end of the tunnel.
More importantly, there was a small camp established at the mouth of the cave, which had also received extensive modification. The room was square, perfectly so, with a wall of wood covering the opening almost completely. A small door sat in the center of the rather haphazard wall which seemed to be pieced together from driftwood, and what had once been a cart. I could tell because the axles of the cart had been cut and used as a frame for the wooden door.
The area itself seemed to be a primitive base of some kind, with a bed just about as long as I was placed against one side while the other was dominated by a stove, and a small pile of wood. A few crates and chests littered the area as well, in addition to a sharing space with a drying rack of some kind. As well as a primitive workstation devoted to the construction of potions and other arcane items.
All in all, it looked like the camp of a mage of some kind, which would explain where the crazy powerful circle I woke up on, came from. I searched around for any pictures of some kind, hoping to find anything that would help me figure out who or what had brought me back. I was almost about ready to give up when I noticed the glint of something metallic poking out from beneath a pillow.
Pulling it out revealed a picture frame containing an aged photograph. The edges had begun to curl, but all the detail was still visible, thankfully, allowing me a good look at the various strange beings found within. The centermost creature was an abnormally tall humanoid with long pointed ears, and a wide, genuine smile. Her hair was primarily a deep sapphire blue with a strip of purple and pink running through about the middle of her head.
Her features were sharp, and elven in a way, though that might have just been the ears talking more than anything else. She also had violet eyes, and a sparkling smile, in addition to a long flowing magenta robe. It looked like the vestments of a sorcerer, though more practical, as it had numerous pockets all over it. Her name was Twilight Sparkle, I recalled, and looking at her made me smile for some reason, her own grin being strangely infectious.
A woman to her right had similar elven features, with long pointed ears, and sharper, more pointed eyes. But while this Twilight person appeared to be a sorcerer, this next one seemed to be some sort of model, or perhaps a rich business owner. The dress she wore looked incredibly expensive, the long flowing purple and white dress cascading over her generous curves without drawing too much attention to them. The outfit looked like something someone would wear if they wanted to stand out from the crowd, without appearing like that was their intent.
She was classy and wore more makeup than Twilight had, making her lips pop, and her eyes really stand out. Her hair was also exquisitely done, and curled to absolute perfection, making me stop and stare even longer than I had planned on
After shaking my head, I quickly looked at the rest of the people in the picture at a more rapid-fire pace.
A short, scruffy-haired woman flew just behind Twilight Sparkle, wearing what looked like a flight jacket and a pair of jeans. Her hair was every color of the rainbow, and her wings were surprisingly short considering that she could apparently fly with them. Other than that she wore a cocky expression and a large, bulky ring on one of her fingers. Her name was Rainbow Dash, I realized, and she was a wonder bolt, whatever that was.
Beside the white person, whom I realized was named Rarity, was another of the winged, and round-eared people, only this one didn't fly and was much taller than Rainbow Dash. Her name was Fluttershy, a voice reminded me, and her long pink hair nearly obscured her sparkling teal eyes. She wore a long brown and green denim dress, the kind I imagined a gardener would wear in the summer.
To Twilight’s left was a round-eared person who lacked wings, though she more than made up for it in sheer bulk. Larger than nearly everyone in the picture, this person appeared to be a weightlifter at first glance. Only for me to realize that they must have been a farmer, given the plaid shirt, dirty jeans, large boots, and a stetson that contained her straw-colored hair. Applejack was her name, and she had one arm around Twilight Sparkle, and one arm around a pink-haired woman who stood next to her.
Whose name I recalled was Pinkie Pie. She too lacked any wings and had more rounded ears as well as a generally larger body. Though she had a little chub on her and was a little shorter than most of her friends, she also appeared to have the hidden strength one might see in a weightlifter. True strength came from the core after all, which meant a truly strong person may not readily appear as such, something this person had in spades. Her outfit was as whimsical as her cotton candy hair, as her blouse and skirt combo had splotches of glitter as well as seemingly random buttons all over it.
Last but not least was what looked like a younger version of myself, or at least whoever’s body I was now residing within anyway. Though only half the height of my current form, the resemblance was uncanny, and he wore only a black sweatshirt and a wide smile.
I put the picture frame back down and was ready to walk outside when I heard the doorknob turn. I considered bracing myself for a potentially hostile situation but found myself disarmed by the pleasant humming I heard.
Then, Twilight Sparkle walked in with a bundle of logs in her arms. Though the air caste woman appeared older than she had in the picture, I knew she didn't actually age, and that this change must have been brought about due to extreme stress.
When our gazes met, the woman dropped her load of firewood and stopped the tune she had been humming. “Spike?”
The unnamed returned. 4 Colorless, legendary creature- Zombie. Tap, one target land you control and one target land your opponent controls both lose all abilities and gain, tap, add one colorless mana to your mana pool. ⅔
Inverse Mana Confluence. 3 white 3 blue 3 black 3 red 3 green. At the beginning of your first main phase, add 9 colorless mana to your mana pool. All colorless creatures have +4+4 and gain “If this creature would die or be put into exile, return it to its owner’s hand.”
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.
That name, and voice brought me back, pulling me out of this weird cave and depositing me right back into my hospital bed. I remembered being in palliative care, laying there, half alive in my bed, a catheter jammed into me, and a nearby T.V spitting out some noise I could barely hear. I couldn't move my eyes, but I listened to the program, catching the occasional bit of conversation between the kid staying next to me and his mother. They were talking about the show, and how the kid was worried that this Spike character would end up giant forever.
From what I was able to gather, Spike, who I was now possessing, had grown huge and was rampaging all over the place. The mother knew how kids shows worked though, and hushed the child’s fears while still leaving the air of mystery around his eventual fate. It was kind of nice to hear, and I would have enjoyed that had I not been stuck inside a corpse. Sure enough, the sight of something made this Spike creature snap back to his smaller form and the episode ended on a high note.
The kid cheered, the mother laughed, and I remained.
With that memory now fading, a rush of other, smaller memories came back to me. Fleeting images of my boyfriend watching the show, and me teasing him for it, as well as bits and pieces of the neighbor kid watching it before eventually passing from cancer. With all this new old information floating in my head, I quickly realized that I was in a children’s cartoon of some kind.
Only, that wasn't true, as I didn't know a single children’s cartoon that eventually got a gritty reboot involving undeath. Although that was a pretty metal idea, I doubt any executive would green-light such ridiculousness.
It was then that I realized where the odd familiarity around colors of mana came from. Flashes of a card game I used to play when I was a kid came unbidden to my mind, making me think of slinging spells and tapping land. Magic the gathering, I think it was called, only I was fairly certain that they had never visited the plane of Equestria in the story.
That being said, they were owned by the same company, and I hadn't paid much attention to the main story for close to a decade, so what did I know?
So magic the gathering rules, in a different, darker, and more realistic anthropomorphized Equestria. Could be worse, I suppose, could be a lot better too. I thought to myself.
“Spike, is that really you?” Twilight asked me, her eyes tearing up as she stumbled towards me.
There was absolutely no way I could impersonate Spike, as not only was this world different from the one I knew, but I was by no means an expert on the original show anyway. That was also ignoring the more ethical dilemma around said situation, which I didn't want to get into. I wondered how I could handle this delicately, as I was many things in life, but subtle and diplomatic were never two of those things.
I raised a hand, stopping her in place. “I’m afraid I’m not Spike but rest assured this situation was not one designed by myself and I had no intention of inhabiting this body.”
The air caste woman instantly stopped, and I could already feel black and red mana begin to swell from the earth, reacting to the spell caster’s call. The tattered, and blackened cloak she wore fluttered on an unseen wind, and her eyes went from dewy, to hate filled in about two seconds. The change was so quick and so startling that I found myself a little shocked by it all.
This most certainly was not the goody goody Twilight I had heard from the show. “A specter then, having come in search of a new host.” She spat, her hands glowing with fury. “I know how to deal with the likes of you.”
She spoke with such confidence, such zeal, that I had no doubt she knew exactly what to do with the likes of me. I wasn't about to get shunted back into the space between though, as existence was rather pleasant thank you very much and I wasn't exactly in a rush to experience death again. With no breath weapon and no idea how to use magic, I was left with few options other than to attack her, or try and escape.
I could sense a spell already building, a dramatic increase in black mana flowing from the earth, and into the woman across from me. I had mere seconds to decide on my course of action, and see it through, leaving me with little room for nuance. Words were straight out, as she was obviously hurt by my apparent possession of what I assumed was her son.
Action was clearly the only way out of this, yet I couldn't attack her, despite the threat she posed, as I wasn't willing to potentially kill someone while in the body of their own kid. That was seven different kinds of fucked up, no matter which way you looked at it.
The door then, I decided.
It wasn't locked, didn't seem barred by any magic, and didn't even have a handle, only a simple bar to hold it closed. My destination set, I surged forward, my legs moving far faster than I assumed an undead was capable of. I all but flew across the room, my shoulder down, and my body aimed directly at the other creature.
Sure enough, she reacted as I anticipated and adjusted her spellwork to move her out of the way. Disappearing in a flash of light, I could feel her magic building right behind me a second after she appeared. Knowing I wouldn't have much room for error, I threw myself at the door and crashed right through it, blowing apart the weak wood and scattering splinters everywhere.
I didn't stop for even a second and just kept on running, dashing to my right as quickly as I could and hoping the break in a line of sight would help dodge whatever spell Twilight was casting. Unfortunately, that's where my luck ran out, as I hardly made it more than a few feet before I felt something cold and hard clamp down around my ankle. I resisted it as best I could, and yanked my foot with all the force I could muster, yet it did nothing but slow me down.
Enabling my other ankle to be grabbed by whatever it was that Twilight had summoned. A short second later and I became intimately familiar with the ground when I landed face-first into it. It was dirt, at least, which was a bonus as I was fairly certain my skull wouldn't have survived such an impact with stone.
I wasn't going to go down without a fight though, and I pushed off the ground, ready to try again, only to have my wrists grabbed, and several hands grip my waist, forcing me down. It was then that I realized what had grabbed me, as I could see the half-rotten arms of two young dragons as they grappled me. A few test tugs quickly made me realize that they were far stronger than me, and older too, by the looks of them. The ground beneath heaved, and lifted, revealing the rest of their rotted forms, and hoisting me up into a standing position.
They were a motley assortment of different-looking dragons, all of which were a few feet taller than me. One had a pair of short horns poking out the back of his head as well as the worst underbite I've ever seen. His body was covered with blackish-purple scales, except for the gaping hole in his large, barrel-like stomach. He looked sturdier than the others, something proven by the fact that he was the one who had grabbed hold of my leg and not lost his arm for the effort.
A skinnier, more angular dragon held one of my arms, his wings missing, and the top half his head completely gone. His scales were even darker than the first, and he had a section of slightly green scales on his stomach, much like myself. Lastly was another dragon who must have been a red dragon by the looks of it. He had a weird upturned snout, a hollow pair of eyes, and tattered wings as well as sporting several holes punched clean through his torso and neck.
He seemed the most damaged of the bunch, and his entire head lolled to the side, barely staying attached to his body. None of them said anything, and the two who had eyes both looked at me with a glazed expressions, clearly not possessing their own will.
“Fuck.” I muttered as the three young adult dragons dragged my sorry ass back to the cave.
Where a none-too-pleased Twilight stood, her foot tapping impatiently. “I hope you know how much trouble you’ve caused me. I was planning on using these three in case another assassin was sent my way, and now I’m going to have to bury them all over again.”
“What do you want me to do? Apologize for valuing my own life?” I snorted. “Cus if that's what you expect of me, you aren't going to get it.”
“The nerve.” Growled Twilight, whose eyes flashed a dangerous red. “First you possess Spike’s body, now you insult me. I am glad the exorcism will flay your very soul. Maybe in the next life, you will learn a thing or two about politeness.”
Flashes of knowledge not acquired by me suddenly popped into my mind, reminding me that soul-flaying was every bit as unpleasant as it sounded. Images of specters and spirits being rent asunder, their incorporeal bodies being destroyed utterly made me shudder. There was no way I was going to let that happen, not without trying absolutely everything.
The spell itself took a good deal of mana, which would take at least a minute or so for Twilight to build if the streaks of black and red which surged from the earth were any indication. There was hardly any flora or fauna in any direction, and what little grass there was, died the second black mana was called from the earth. The fact that the princess of friendship was so good at manipulating black mana unnerved something deep inside of me, but I brushed that aside for now.
I had a second death to avoid, and freedom to attain.
To that end, I flexed as hard as possible, pulling on each one of my limbs in turn, testing my impromptu jailers. Their grip was like steel, and my strength a mere bronze in comparison, despite how strong I felt only minutes ago, evidence that Twilight had empowered them somehow. The bull headed approach was out, talking was clearly out, as I doubted Twilight could even hear me through the strange chant she had just started up. With no breath weapon, and no way I could familiarize myself with magic while in such a heated moment, I felt rage begin to burn hot in my chest.
This was bullshit! I had gotten shit on in one life, and I refused to get shit on in another, life may be a mean bitch, but I was a stubborn bastard.
I focused on my newest ability to sense mana and turned to the tall, thin dragon which held one of my arms. Its body was filled with black mana, with the barest hint of red swirling deep down inside. Mana was used to animate bodies I remembered, thus, if it had no mana inside it wouldn't be animated anymore, right?
This logic was flimsy I knew, but it was at least somewhat backed up by the mechanics of the card game, and what magical knowledge did come to mind. I also knew there wasn't a card in magic, or spell in Equestria that drained mana from a target, that I knew of anyway. What I did know was that magic was largely based on the willpower of the individual. Which meant there was at least a chance that my sheer desire to steal mana might be enough to do just that.
With few other options and no time to think of any other possible solutions, I focused on the thin dragon and willed the mana from his animated bones. At first, there was nothing, only me gritting my teeth and glaring at a corpse who regarded me with the indifference of the dead. That changed soon after, as I could feel mana begin to flow into me, the black energy making my skin crawl and my mouth start to water.
It was as intoxicating as it was unpleasant, but no matter how good it felt, I didn't focus on that, and instead continued to pull every last drop of mana from the corpse. Within moments its grip began to falter, and before I knew it, the body began to dissolve, chunks of its body turning grey before flaking off in the slight breeze.
A firm yank was all it took to remove the creature’s arm from the rest of its body, where it fell to the ground and dissipated into a pile of ash. The undead dragon leaned forward before toppling forwards, a good majority of its body turning into more of the same grey dust. Only its legs were still held together, though it wasn't by much, the mana holding it in place having been torn from its corpse.
The chanting stuttered for a moment, but I paid Twilight no mind, turning to the dragon who gripped my ankles and crawled behind me. Drawing on that well of nothingness inside me, I pulled at the mana within the creature, only this time I focused on its hands. That focus was rewarded, as its digits turned to ash within moments, freeing me from its grasp and allowing me to turn to my final captor.
“W-wait.” Twilight interrupted.
Raising an eyebrow, I glanced over to where the air caste woman stood, her spell fizzling to nothing, and the mana dissipating back into the earth. “Changed your mind about killing me? Or do I have to dust your last servant as well?” I questioned.
The woman shrugged. “I care nothing for these shambling corpses, do with them as you will. No, what I really care about is that ability you just showed. How did you do that? No spirit or specter can manipulate mana in such a way.”
“For one, I am no traditional specter.” I began, tugging my arm from the red dragon’s grip and finding that I didn't even need to dust it in order to free myself. “I am, or was a human, something not native to your world.”
“Wait a second. Your spirit came from another plane, and somehow survived the journey? How is that possible? Nothing survives in the blind eternities.” Twilight pressed, the last of her magic crumbling to nothing, forgotten by the curious woman.
Rubbing my wrists, I watched closely as Twilight kept her hands raised, but conjured no spells, and drew no mana. “I didn't even know that the planes were real, or magic existed until several minutes ago, so if your looking for answers, you won't find them with me.” I explained, purposefully choosing not to point out that the Eldrazi survived just fine in the blind eternities.
“That would explain how you are not attuned to any color of mana, as your spirit has not had time to adapt to this world’s ley lines,” Twilight muttered while tapping her chin. “Though it does not explain your abilities, your survival, or how you manage to draw on so much black mana without burning out. Even I have trouble channeling that much, that quickly.”
“And you have a lot of experience with necromancy?” I questioned while brushing myself off as best as possible.
The air caste woman grimaced but nodded regardless. “Unfortunately I do, considering just how much time I’ve spent trying to raise Spike.”
“About that.” I began, before straightening out and ducking into a small bow. “I sincerely apologize for all of this. Though I did not do anything on purpose I have no doubt caused you great stress, and for that I am sorry.”
Twilight crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped her foot impatiently. “You say that like your innocent, but an innocent person doesn't run.”
I scowled down at her, only now realizing that I was indeed the slightest bit taller than the surprisingly tall person. “I died once, I wasn't keen on experiencing it again. If you want an apology for that, you aren't going to get one.”
All the fire and bluster quickly blew away, and Twilight sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Look, we clearly got off on the wrong foot. Why don't we roll this back a bit and try again.” She extended her hand and flashed me a weak smile. “Hi, my name is Twilight Sparkle.”
“I don't actually know mine, but I do know yours.” I replied, shaking her hand firmly, and being surprised when she was able to match and exceed my grip streangth with relative ease.
“And how do you know that?” She asked curiously, taking a small, but noticeable step back, her damaged, and undamaged servants subtly taking positions to my sides.
“Look, before I get into any of that, let's call a truce shall we?” I asked arms open wide. “I didn't intend on being here, and you didn't intend on summoning me, but I don't want to die, and I’m fairly certain you have at least a minor qualm with killing me.”
The look in her eyes made me realize that qualm was smaller than I expected, but it was at least there. “If you think you're walking out of here with Spike’s body you got another thing coming.” She declared evenly.
I raised my hands defensively. “I wouldn't dream of it. In fact, I was hoping to offer you my services, and in return for me helping you in whatever manner you deem fit, I was hoping you’d give me a new body.”
Twilight chewed on her bottom lip. “Well, I’m not going to give you a newborn’s body if that's what you're asking.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “As I said, I experienced death before, and I do not wish to experience it again. I don't care what body you put me in so long as it's bipedal and at least functionally immortal. I don't care if you slap me in another corpse, so long as the next body is capable of magic.”
“That is a surprisingly doable request,” Twilight muttered to herself. “If given the time, I could potentially construct you a new necromantic form based on whatever your specifications would be.”
“That would be lovely, and in return, I expect you will wish for an assistant of some kind to help you raise this Spike person?” I asked, noticing that the woman winced again when I said assistant.
“That would be… nice.” She muttered, before sighing and extending her hand once more. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal, but the first thing we are going to do is discuss how you knew about me, if your from another world.”
I nodded and shook her hand. “That's fine by me, but I will preface this entire discussion by saying that the act of dying and being shuffled around has done a number on my memory. So I may not be able to answer all your questions.”
“Fine. Let's sit, and talk this out like civilized individuals.” Twilight replied, turning away from me and walking back to her cave without waiting for me to follow.
Walking back into the cave made me realize that the entrance to it was far more than the weak pile of wood I thought it was. Enchantments were layered over the outside, making it seem like the wall was smooth stone, save for the door sized hole in the front. Running my hand across its surface made me realize that it also felt as smooth as it looked, and according to just about all my senses, it was a rock wall.
My newest sense told me that it was enchantment however, and had blue and black mana swirling within. My new memories also told me that such an elaborate illusion was only castable by a master illusionist. Something I knew, Twilight Sparkle was not. Or at least she wasn't the last this body had seen her, which was evidently quite a while.
Walking into the cave, the woman took a seat on her bed and gestured to the lone chair she had nearby. “I’d offer you some tea, but I feel like that would be a wasted effort.” She remarked mirthlessly.
I shrugged. “I never was one for tea anyway.”
“So, I’ll start with the questions, and we can go back and forth from there.” She stated, before leaning forward. “How do you know about me?”
I mulled over the question for a moment, as there were two possible answers I could give her, or three if I considered giving her both. One was the strange knowledge I was presumably getting from whatever memories Spike had somehow stored in this body. The second was the interplanar answer in which I knew she was a cartoon character, or at least shared similarities with one I knew of anyway. As this was obviously no cartoon meant for children.
I mused over the possibility that I was in some sort of gritty future reboot again but quickly brushed that aside for now.
In the end, I decided on the honest answer, as right now she had little reason to trust me, and apparently had the power to kill me quite thoroughly if she so willed it. “Two reasons actually. The first is that I heard about you on T.V. Where I’m from you are a cartoon character, a pony to be precise. From what I was able to gather you had friends, went on adventures, and were the princess of friendship.”
The woman chewed her lip while watching me closely, evidently holding back a comment of some kind. “Interesting. And the second reason?”
“The second is a less comfortable answer.” I began hesitantly. “I seem to have gained some sort of knowledge from Spike himself. It is by no means extensive, or specific to certain memories but rather background information of a seemingly random kind.”
Rather than be annoyed, or shocked, she merely nodded slowly. “The spirit leaves… marks on the flesh that linger for quite a while. I have gone to great lengths to ensure all of Spike’s memories were intact for when I was eventually able to revive him.”
“That's… good.” I muttered, my body relaxing when I realized she was not angered by my apparent usage of Spike’s memories. “My question is a personal one, and you may avoid it if you wish, but I was hoping to know what happened to Spike.”
The sorceress’ entire body tensed, and I could feel the heat drain from the room, though that didn't bother me one bit. Emotions warred behind the other creature’s eyes, and I could tell she was conflicted about what to say. Eventually, one idea won out, and she relaxed, slightly.
“My friends and I defeated many would-be conquerors and evil-doers over the years.” She began, her voice oddly tense as if she was stopping herself from shouting. “Eventually these villains pooled their resources, came up with a plan, and accomplished what they couldn't do individually.”
I did my best to search Spike’s knowledge banks, and though again, there were no images, or exact memories, I could recall some basic information on the bad guys she had fought over the years. Names, and descriptors of motives came to mind, though they were bereft of any context, or visuals. “So they killed everyone?” I asked.
Twilight clenched her fist and stared down at the floor. “Some perished. Others they spared, keeping them like party favors to be trotted out on special occasions or used as slaves.”
That complicated matters somewhat, as I was rather hoping this world was at least somewhat peaceful. Evidently, the show was considerably off the mark. “And Spike?” I asked.
“Sombra.” Twilight whispered. “Revenge for ruining his plans the first time.”
“Ahh.” I murmured, mind already churning with this new information.
Spike’s knowledge banks were evidently incomplete, as they had some information on Sombra, but definitely didn't say anything about getting murdered by him. The name did make my claws itch in a way that was both uncomfortable and made me want to sharpen them, so maybe this body remembered more than it was letting on. Regardless of the reason, I nodded slowly and extended my hand.
“I do believe it's your turn.” I offered.
“You said I was a cartoon character earlier. What exactly did you mean by that?” Asked the woman.
I sighed, silently glad the conversation was easing up a little, as all this doom and gloom was starting to get to me. “I couldn't tell you the significance of such a discovery. What I do know is that it was wrong in several ways, as for starters you were a talking horse, and were definitely not bipedal.”
That made her raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And what else was different?”
“That's two.” I pointed out, only to shrug. “But it's a small one, so I’ll answer anyway. I didn't watch the whole show, or know everything but from what I was able to gather it was a kid’s show aimed at little girls and meant to sell toys.”
Twilight snorted in amusement, though she didn't smile. “I wish that was the case here, life would be a lot easier if that were true.”
“Well like I said there were differences and similarities. For one, they got your status as a royal student correct, as well as the names and personalities of your friends.” I began, pointing to the frame that poked out from beneath her pillow. “Your enemies were there, but they seem to have been more… tame, for lack of a better word.”
I leaned back in my chair and began to drum my digits on the armrest. “The differences largely boil down to this world being darker, more realistic, and slightly in the future. Like in the show you were ponies, earth ponies, pegasi, unicorns, and alicorns while here you are earth caste, fire caste, water caste, and air caste, respectively.”
“And though we once fell under the umbrella of human, we have not truly been human for several millennia,” Twilight added.
“Oh, really?” I asked, having searched Spike’s knowledge banks and found no answer to that particular question.
“It's a long, and convoluted history.” Twilight replied dismissively. “Which I’ll tell you if we ever have the time to do so.”
“Fair enough.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “So what was that array all about? Spike didn't seem to know anything about it, other than it seemed to drain the color from mana and siphon it into one spot.”
“It was… an experiment.” Twilight stated slowly, and deliberately. “Black mana tends to taint the things raised by it, making them empty, or emotionless. Red mana will return a creature to life briefly, but they burn out quickly.” She sighed. “The other colors of mana all have their downsides when it comes to resurrection if they are even capable of it all. Green does not have any side effects, but requires an intense devotion to the color, and decades of experience and seems to happen only randomly when nature wills it. Which is also sort of true when it comes to white mana, to a certain extent anyway.”
The woman frowned and leaned back on the bed. “I had heard tales of colorless mana, which carried not the taint of any color, and was capable of true resurrection provided it was focused properly.” She scowled suddenly. “This was apparently incorrect. Though I know not how you ended up here, as I had yet to even add the resurrection sub routines to the matrix.”
“So you're saying it was just designed to pool colorless mana, and that's it?” I inquired, prompting the woman to nod. “That is strange and unfortunate. I had hoped to get some sort of answer on why I am here.”
“I’m afraid neither of us has the answers the other seeks.” Twilight muttered with a shrug.
“True.”
We remained silent for several moments, each party internalizing this new information, and thinking our own, private thoughts on the matter. Twilight seemed to be wrestling with something, and I caught her muttering what sounded like formula under her breath a few times. She was no doubt pondering the mystery of my summoning, and not getting far, either. I personally was just wondering how I could get out of this with a new body, without having to die trying.
There were too many variables in play, however, and I dismissed such ponderings, for now, focusing on something that was bothering me. “So, I can't exactly go walking around like this. I assume you have some sort of plan in mind? A disguise, perhaps?”
“Well my hope was that the ritual would regenerate the rest of Spike’s body, but seeing as that's not an option anymore, I suppose my backup plan will have to do.” Twilight replied, before turning and pulling a chest out from under the bed.
Popping it open, I glanced over her shoulder to find that there was a set of plate mail armor within. Only it wasn't exactly polished to a shine and was instead blackened as if covered in soot or scorched by fire. Pulling it out, Twilight handed me a helmet that covered my head completely and even covered a good section of my neck. The grille on the face was welded shut by the looks of it and the entire thing appeared vaguely skeletal like it was designed after a dragon’s skull.
It was metal as hell but didn't seem like the type of thing Twilight would make or purchase. “Where did you get this?” I asked, turning the helm over in my hands and finding that it was very, very well made, even if it was completely scorched like the rest of the armor.
“An assassin was wearing it.” She replied dismissively. “The fool thought he could ambush me by a volcano wearing magic and heat-resistant armor.”
“And how did you defeat him? I don't see any holes in his armor.” I replied, turning over the breastplate in my hands.
“I drowned him in the lava he used to hide his ambush.” Twilight remarked with a frown. “The enchantments didn't survive being heated for so long, but the armor was strong, and didn't take much to bend to your body type.”
I nodded slowly as I rolled around the various pieces of armor, noting that although they seemed stretched in some places, those sections seemed as strong as the rest. The aesthetics of the armor weren't as intimidating as the helmet and seemed rather plain, other than being over-enforced. I didn't know much about armor, but it seemed excessively thick and was quite heavy, no doubt originally worn by someone quite strong.
I placed the helmet over my head after only a few seconds of struggling and noticed that my range of vision was unimpeded. Indeed, it felt and looked like I wasn't wearing a helmet at all, a strange realization, let me tell you. Whatever magical means granted my sight, seemed to adapt to the helmet, allowing me to see as if I wasn't even wearing it.
“Fascinating.” I murmured, before turning to the woman. “I don't suppose you know how to put on the rest of it, would you?”
She nodded and rose from the bed. “I took lessons, back in the day. Here, let me help you.”
Over the next few minutes, we went through the motions of armoring me, starting with an undershirt of mail, leather breeches, and armored shoes. Once dawned, I found that everything seemed to fit rather well, save for the shoes, but they were only a minor annoyance and were easily ignored. Doing a few stretches, I was able to find that my range of motion was uninhibited and that the armor itself wasn't super loud like some movies make it out to be. Nor was it overly heavy, or cumbersome, but that may have just been due to me being a zombie.
“Excellent.” I stated confidently. “Do you have a weapon, by chance?”
Twilight shook her head. “I’m afraid his weapon was lost, and the other assassins either had their weapons destroyed, or did not use one.”
I shrugged. “It could be worse I suppose. We will just have to find one somewhere along the way.”
“I suppose we will.” Twilight remarked rather unenthusiastically.
It was obvious that she still didn't trust me, but that would come with time, I figured. “Do you have a dagger or wood axe at least?” I asked, looking around the room.
The woman shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I use my magic for everything.”
“Bugger.” I muttered.
“There is something else we need to discuss.” She stated, leaning forward. “Your name, to be exact. Or what I’m going to call you anyway.”
I paused, having never truly considered the loss of my name until now. Sure it kinda sucked to have forgotten something so important, but truthfully I never really liked my name, to begin with. It was something my father gave me, and I had always hated that alcoholic prick. “I’m not sure.” I whispered, deep in thought.
“Do you need help coming up with one?” Offered the woman.
“No, I feel like I have one.” I replied, a name springing to mind unbidden. “Kazmil Kelloakizilian. But you can just call me Kaz, for short.”
The air caste woman blinked. “That certainly is a rather unique name. Where did that come from?”
I shrugged. “I don't know.”
The woman nodded knowingly. “I suppose harmony guides you after all.”
I frowned beneath the helmet. “I don't know about that, but it certainly feels right.”
“It's fitting, in a way.” She began. “A strange name for a strange person. Either way we have much to discuss, and a long road ahead of us.”
Blackened Mail. 2 generic 2 black. Artifact- Equipment. Equip creature gains +1 +3 and gains intimidate. Pay 1 colorless and 1 black, equip.
The Hunted Princess 1 generic 3 black 1 red. Legendary Creature- Alicorn. Flying, Deathtouch. Pay 3 generic, 1 red 1 black to return up to one target creature from a graveyard to the battlefield under your control. Pay 3 black and tap to destroy target colorless creature, gain three life.
Kazmil, the Returned. 4 colorless Legendary Creature- Zombie. Two colorless and tap. Kazmil deals three damage to target creature, and that creature loses all colors and abilities. If it were to die this turn, exile it instead and regenerate Kazim, the Returned. 2/3
Author's Note
This is an adoptable idea. If you like it, lemme know and I can send you what notes I had written on where it was going to go.
