The Conjuration Wizard

Dodge City was a world apart from Canterlot. The polished marble towers and bustling streets of the capital seemed like a distant dream in this rugged frontier town. Here, the buildings were plain and practical, their wooden facades weathered by years of sun and sand. The desert heat wrapped around the settlement like a smothering blanket, but the Endure Elements spell kept the worst of it at bay. Under the relentless sun long shadows stretched out across the dusty streets of Dodge City. From the east came a faint breeze that carried with it the scent of dry earth and charred wood.

Aldin perched on my shoulder, his feathered body motionless except for the occasional tilt of his head as his sharp eyes scanned our surroundings. He didn’t speak, but his watchfulness said enough. The town moved at a subdued pace, the ponies here going about their day with an air of unease. The recent attacks had clearly left their mark, and I could feel the weight of wary gazes on me as I walked.

A human wandering into Dodge City was an uncommon sight, and the curious, uneasy stares of the townsfolk followed my every step. A group of ponies were gathered outside the town’s general store. Their conversation broke off as they noticed my approach. A tension of sorts sparked up around them, and their eyes widened as they took in my appearance fully.

“Excuse me,” I said while offering them what I hoped would be seen as a friendly smile. “I’m looking for the pony in charge of Dodge City. I heard there’s been trouble with a worm out in the Badlands, and I’m here to help.”

The ponies exchanged glances, their expressions uncertain. Finally, a stallion stepped forward. He wore a battered hat that shaded his weathered face, his stance steady but guarded. “You’ll be wantin’ Cherry Jubilee,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “She runs Cherry Hill Ranch. Been helpin’ keep the town together since all this started. Just head up the road, stranger.”

“Thanks,” I said, nodding. “I’ll find her.”

The stallion tipped his hat but didn’t relax, his gaze lingering as I turned to go. “Good luck out there,” he added. “We’ll need it.”

As I walked the road we passed row after row of cherry trees. The trees with their vibrant greenery stood out against the dry, cracked soil of the surrounding desert. The orchard stood as living proof of the resilience and determination of Dodge City’s residents. And the capabilities of earth pony magic. The ranch came into view — a cozy farmhouse with a wraparound porch painted in welcoming hues. A mare worked among the cherry trees near the entrance, her pale yellow coat and crimson-streaked mane catching the sunlight. Her grayish-crimson eyeshadow added a touch of elegance to her otherwise practical appearance.

“Miss Jubilee?” I called as I approached, careful not to startle her.

She straightened, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the sight of me. But her surprise faded quickly, replaced by a warm smile. “Well now, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” she drawled, her voice carrying a pleasant Southern lilt. “Don’t reckon I’ve seen you ‘round these parts before. What brings you to Dodge City, sugar?”

I returned her smile, dipping my head in a polite bow. “Sebastian. I’m here from Canterlot to help with the recent attacks. I was told you’re the one I should speak to.”

Cherry’s smile softened, and she studied me for a moment. “Well now. It’s not every day we get a visitor from Canterlot. Let alone one who’s come to help us. I’m Cherry Jubilee by the way, owner of this here ranch. And might I say, it’s mighty kind of you to offer your assistance.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss Jubilee. This is a beautiful place you have here. I must admit, your cherry trees are impressive,” I said, genuinely admiring the vibrant orchard.

She perked up at the compliment, and she returned it with an appreciative nod. "Why, thank you, Sebastian. Out here we do our best to keep things thriving out here, even with the Badlands breathing down our necks. But let's not waste time on small talk. If you are here to help then we should get straight down to business."

She gestured for me to follow, and I fell into step beside her as she led the way. "The last attack wasn’t far from here," Her tone grew more serious with each step. "One of our storage buildings ended up burned to the ground, and several of our cherry trees were destroyed. It was a mess, I tell you. We’ve been on high alert ever since."

I nodded, listening intently. "Has anyone seen the creature responsible?"

“Not directly,” Cherry replied, her brow furrowing. “But the destruction is unlike anything we've encountered before. I’m certain it’s some kind of monstrous looking worm, and from what I’ve heard, you’re just the pony — er, person — for the job.”

Her words were filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. She was looking for some way to handle this threat. Not just her, but the town itself was too. I was ready. This was what I had been trained for. This was what Luna had prepared me for. I was confident that I could handle this.

Before long we were at the edge of the cherry orchard. The trees here were sparse and gave way to a wasteland of charred stumps and deep gouges in the earth. The winds shifted and I caught the scent of ash and something acrid. A trail of destruction led to and from the greater Badlands. A scar placed upon an otherwise untouched desert landscape.

Cherry looked at me, her expression a mix of worry and hope. “Be careful out there, Sebastian. The Badlands aren’t kind to travelers… and this creature, it’s not like anything we’ve dealt with before.”

I gave her a reassuring nod, my hand resting on the hilt of Promise. “I will. I’ll make sure this thing doesn’t threaten Dodge City again.”

Cherry hesitated for a moment, then stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it then. Just… come back safe, ya hear?”

“Don’t sweat it! I got this,” I replied, giving her my most confident smile.

With that, Cherry turned and began her walk back toward the ranch, leaving me at the edge of the Badlands. I watched her go, then turned my attention to the trail ahead. The path into the Badlands was rough and unwelcoming, but it would take more than rugged terrain and simple heat to deter me.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

The Badlands stretched before us like a canvas of desolation, its cracked and barren earth painted in hues of rust and ash. The air was dry and acrid, carrying the faint, bitter tang of decay on a wind that howled intermittently across the vast emptiness. Above, the sky was a cauldron of fiery oranges and deep crimsons as the sun began its descent, casting jagged shadows that danced across the tortured landscape. We were far from Dodge Junction now, following the deep, gouged tracks left by the creature’s rampage, each step taking us deeper into its territory.

Aldin soared overhead, his wide arcs serving as a vigilant survey of the terrain. His sharp eyes scanned every crack and crevice for signs of movement, his unease palpable through our bond. This land was as alien to him as it was to me — a far cry from Canterlot’s ordered streets and familiar skies. Yet, despite the oppressive emptiness and the lurking danger, a strange calm settled over me. This was the proving ground Luna had prepared me for, the place where lessons honed in the safety of sparring grounds would be tested against raw reality.

I glanced down at the tracks in the dirt, their jagged edges indicating the sheer weight of the worm that had carved them. The trail was fresh, a recent mark of the beast’s destructive path. “How much further, do you think?” Aldin’s voice came from above, his tone edged with unease and a dash of teasing bravado. Ever since gaining the ability to speak, he’d made ample use of it, filling even the heaviest silences with his wit.

“Hard to say,” I replied, adjusting the strap of my pack and patting the reassuring weight of Promise at my hip. “But if it’s this bold, it won’t be hiding for long. We’re bound to find it — or it’ll find us.”

Aldin swooped down to perch on my shoulder, his talons gripping the fabric of my cloak lightly. “Great. Nothing like being hunted by a sand monster in the middle of nowhere. You sure this isn’t just a grand scheme to impress Luna?”

I smirked, shaking my head. “If it were, I’d have picked something less likely to eat us alive.” My gaze shifted to the horizon, where the sun dipped lower, bathing the land in an eerie twilight. “This is about protecting the ponies here — and proving to myself that I’m ready.”

Aldin ruffled his feathers, a subtle show of trust in the face of his lingering apprehension. “Fair enough, Seb. Just don’t expect me to bail you out if you go all hero and get in over your head.”

“Noted, best-buddy,” I said, the nickname earning a quiet huff of amusement from the owl.

We pressed on as the sun surrendered to night, the oppressive heat of the day giving way to a biting chill that would have been unbearable without the magic of Endure Elements. The landscape transformed under Luna’s moon, its pale light casting stark contrasts across the jagged rocks and shifting sands. By the time we stopped, the Badlands had become a study in darkness, broken only by the faint glimmer of starlight.

“This’ll do,” I said, halting near a rock formation that offered some protection from the wind. The flat ground here was ideal for a campsite, and though the terrain was unforgiving, it would suffice. “No fire tonight. We don’t need to announce our presence.”

Aldin hopped to a higher perch, his sharp gaze scanning the area as I worked. I cast Alarm first, its invisible threads weaving an unseen barrier around our camp. The spell would alert me to any intrusions, and with Keep Watch cast shortly after, I ensured I could stay alert through the night without succumbing to fatigue.

As I leaned against the rough surface of a boulder, Aldin fluttered down to rest on my shoulder again. “Sure you don’t want me keeping watch with you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the teasing edge softened.

“I’ve got this,” I assured him. “You rest. We’ll need you sharp tomorrow.”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright, Seb. Just… don’t do anything reckless while I’m out.”

“Reckless? Me? Never,” I quipped with a grin. He gave a low, amused croak before settling into a comfortable position, his breathing soon evening out as he drifted to sleep.

The silence of the Badlands was oppressive. The oppressiveness was broken only by the occasional whisper of the wind across the surrounding desert landscape. My gaze turned upward. I found myself drawn to the vast expanse of stars that stretched endlessly across the night sky. The constellations Luna had shown me seemed sharper here, their patterns etched into the heavens like ancient guides. The Tree of Harmony, its branching lines a symbol of balance, stood out boldly, while the Navigator pointed true, its shape a beacon for wanderers.

I traced their shapes in the air with my finger, the motion comforting in its familiarity. My free hand found Promise’s pommel, my thumb brushing over the engraving of Luna’s cutie mark. The sword was more than a weapon—it was a connection to her, a symbol of the trust and care that had grown between us.

My gaze lingered on the Dreamweaver, its gentle curve cradling the night like a protective embrace. Luna had once told me it brought dreams to those who slept beneath its watchful glow. I wondered if she was gazing at these same stars, her thoughts perhaps wandering to me as mine wandered to her. The ache of longing was tempered by the quiet strength I drew from her presence in my life, even from afar.

I adjusted my position against the rock, my senses on high alert despite the stillness. The death worm was out there, lurking in the darkness, waiting for its moment. But I was ready. Luna’s training had prepared me for this, and I carried her lessons in my every movement, her words echoing in my mind.

With the moon above and the stars as my companions, I settled in for the long watch, my thoughts steady and my resolve firm. Whatever the Badlands had in store, I would face it head-on, knowing that I was not alone.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Death worms, for all their ferocity and capacity to deal out death, aren't particularly fast.

A few hours after dawn, we caught up to the beast. The massive furrows in the dirt led us to a jagged outcrop of rocks jutting from the arid landscape, a perfect spot for an ambush. But today, it was the worm that would be ambushed.

Aldin, perched atop my head, echoed my thoughts. “Tracks end here, Seb. It’s probably lying in wait for its next meal.”

“We won’t keep it waiting long,” I replied, already formulating a plan. Aldin’s excitement mirrored my own as we prepared for the confrontation. “Take the necklace. If things go sideways, drop as many Fireballs as needed until that thing stops moving.”

With a quick nod, Aldin took to the sky, the Necklace of Fireballs clutched securely in his talon. Meanwhile, I began my preparations: Mage Armor, Shield, Mirror Image, and Fly — just in case.

Once my defenses were in place, I summoned a celestial dire rat using Summon Monster I. The dog-sized rodent sat on its haunches, awaiting my directions. I pointed towards the likely location of the death worm, and it squeaked in response and began scurrying forward, unaware of the role it was about to play. Poor thing.

Next, I cast Summon Monster III, conjuring a lantern archon — a being of pure spiritual energy, its form a glowing orb of living light.

The archon’s voice echoed with an echoing and airy resonance. “Greetings, summoner. What is our plan of action?”

“Simple,” I said, pointing to the dire rat as it approached the rocks. “The bait will draw the death worm out. Then we strike. Keep it engaged long enough that it won’t think about trying to escape into the ground until it’s too late.”

The archon’s light flickered through a rainbow of colors as it silently fluttered around excitedly. Without warning, it brightened and landed atop my head for a moment, a surge of strength and resilience flowing through me.

“Aid. For the battle ahead,” it said before returning to its flight.

I nodded in acknowledgment, my focus narrowing to the bait as it neared the spot where the death worm would likely strike. My hand moved subtly, and I began to gather the arcane energies needed for my next spell: Fireball.

A small, swirling orb of flame materialized at my fingertip, its vibrant glow pulsing with barely restrained power. The magic within it hummed, eager to be released, but I held it back, knowing the moment wasn’t quite right. Timing was everything — soon the worm would show itself, and then it would learn the price of its hunger.

We didn’t have to wait long.

The earth trembled, a deep, bone-rattling vibration that sent pebbles dancing across the ground. A nearby rock shifted, rising slightly, revealing the telltale sign of the predator lurking beneath. Then, with a burst of ferocity, the death worm erupted from the ground in a shower of dirt and stone. It was a grotesque behemoth, all rippling muscle and armored scales, its maw a horrifying tunnel of endless, jagged teeth. In one swift motion, it snapped its jaws around the dire rat, which vanished in a burst of dissipating magical energy.

There — the opening we needed.

A slow, wicked smile crept across my face. The worm was too distant to reach me with its acid breath or crackling lightning, and in its momentary confusion over the disappearing prey, it hadn’t yet noticed me. Perfect.

I raised my hand, aiming it with the precision of a marksman, the Fireball poised like a bullet in the chamber. With a calm, quiet whisper, I uttered a single word: “Bang.”

The orb shot forth with blinding speed, expanding into a roaring inferno that consumed the worm in an explosion of searing heat and light. Its agonized roar echoed across the barren landscape, a sound of pure, primal fury. And then it turned, locking onto me with a rage that was as palpable as the heat of the fire that still clung to its scales.

The intensity of its response caught me off guard. I had expected hesitation, a precious second or two to create some distance. But the beast wasted no time, surging forward with a relentless, almost suicidal drive. Its maw yawned wide, spewing a corrosive torrent of acid in my direction.

I reacted instantly. With a thought, I activated Fly, and in the same breath, Shift — teleporting ten feet to the side. The acid splashed against the rocks where I had just stood, the stone hissing and melting into slag within moments. I didn’t pause, taking to the air as I cast Scorching Ray, launching a beam of concentrated fire that seared into the worm’s charging mass.

Above, my lantern archon glided through the air, easily keeping pace with the thrashing beast. It unleashed beams of pure, radiant light, each ray piercing the creature’s tough hide with surgical precision.

Fly gave me a significant advantage, allowing me to stay out of reach while still harrying the worm. But I had to be careful not to push it too far, too fast. If the creature decided to retreat underground, this worm hunt could turn into a lengthy endeavor.

The archon’s continuous barrage seemed to frustrate the worm, driving it to abandon its pursuit of me. With a violent twist of its massive head, it unleashed a bolt of crackling lightning that tore through the air, seeking to obliterate my summon. The force of the strike was staggering, the very air humming with its deadly energy. Had I been the target, only a lucky mirror image — or a really good dodge — could have saved me from a trip to the nearest hospital, or worse, the morgue.

But the worm’s desperate attack was for nothing. The archon, immune to the destructive electricity, simply absorbed the hit and continued its relentless assault. Watching the beast’s most powerful strike fizzle harmlessly against a ball of light was almost comical.

Seizing the opportunity, I unleashed another Scorching Ray, and the archon followed up with a final volley of light. The combination of fire and divine light drained the last of the worm’s strength. It convulsed violently, its once-mighty form now a smoking, charred ruin, before collapsing onto the scorched earth. The lantern archon fired two more rays, ensuring the creature was well and truly dead.

The death worm lay still at last, a hulking carcass of burnt flesh and toxic ichors. Its gaping maw sagged open, the last dregs of acid dripping uselessly to the ground. I hovered above the scene, my breathing steady, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away.

As I surveyed the aftermath, I couldn’t help but compare this battle to my sparring sessions. “Sparring with Luna makes this fight seem like a breeze,” I muttered, recalling the intensity and duration of our training. Her relentless tutelage had honed my skills to the point where even a formidable creature like this death worm felt almost trivial. Almost.

But it made sense. Sparring with Luna was controlled, focused, relentless. This was lethal combat, and while dangerous, it was also fleeting. On the tabletop, most battles that aren’t meat grinders tend to last only a few turns — three to five turns, usually. A turn lasts just six seconds, making most combats occurring in only eighteen to thirty seconds. Give or take a few seconds.

“Well, that was underwhelming,” Aldin remarked, as he held out the necklace.

I chuckled, accepting the Necklace of Fireballs back from him. “Yeah, it was. But underwhelming is good. Underwhelming means no one important got hurt, and we get to leave this forsaken land.”

The lantern archon flashed an assortment of colors as it wished us luck just before the duration of my spell ended, returning it to its home plane.

“Come on, best-buddy. Let’s get started on heading back to town. We’ve got some distance to cover. And the faster we catch a train, the faster we get to finding that door, the faster we get back home.”