One Last Game Book 2: Temple of Chaos

BEGIN

“Amon”

Maya spoke the man’s name, testing it as it passed through her lips. She had never heard nor spoken it before. It brought a cold chill down her back, a warning she knew she would be wise to heed. The mask across his face made reading his reactions impossible.

It was completely the opposite of her two companions. Their shivering limbs and bitten lips were all the indications she needed to see their fright and unease with the situation at hand. It was hard for her to tell if she displayed any obvious signs of her own discomfort. She only hoped her time at the abbey would pay off now. Taking in a slow breath, Maya began to speak again.

“That isn’t a name I know. Who are you behind that name?” She couldn’t see it, but the Siren felt a smile curl beneath the cold white mask.

“For what may be the first time, I am glad you do not recognize my name.” The man began to take slow steps towards the trio. Despite his average stature and size, Maya could not shake the feeling that they had a power behind them even she, one of the few mystical Sirens of the Universe, was at a loss to imagine.

“Why is that?” She asked just as carefully as before. “I hope it isn’t because you have committed acts you know we would… dislike.” The man’s steps did not cease. Fortunately, neither did his words.

“In my past, I have manipulated thousands and harmed hundreds. I used a power I was born with to make people bow to me in my presence and fear me from my shadow.” Maya felt the power of her abilities flow into her arm before he finished his sentence. She kept it carefully hidden behind her back, holding her posture as neutral and contained.

“Those aren’t inspiring words,” Maya said carefully. Amon’s pacing towards her did not cease with her remark. Maya could hear a whimper come from behind it. She couldn’t tell if it was the boy or the pony who made it.

“Those were my actions in a life now past me.” Maya fought valiantly, but vainly, against the ball in her throat.

“And how is that life past you?” Amon’s walking finally ceased.

“I died.”

END

Maya blinked, the power contained in her left arm doing the same before vanishing from existence. Her arm rolled back to her side, hanging from her limply. The silence around her was deafening. The sight of Amon… frightening.

“What?” The word was spoken in a broken whisper, spat out in haste. Maya turned to see Chrona’s lip quivering.

“I died.” Amon spoke again. “I witnessed all my plans fall beneath me, my ploys and deceptions revealed and then turned against me. I was forced from the city I had claimed in disgrace, taking with me a brother I had treated like a friend.” Maya could hear the regretful sigh from beneath his mask. Before she could speak however, he turned.

Amon walked towards the window he faced before, hands held behind his back. His posture was straight and proud, but his step smooth and calm. He was the very image of both confidence and peace. It irked Maya in a way she couldn’t describe.

She looked back towards the boy and filly, both watching her. There was only a request for direction in their eyes, looking to her for answers. She had none, but she knew where to begin. A sigh left her lips as she turned back to the masked man. He was already at the far side of the room.

Maya walked towards him, cautious in her every step. Her clicking shoes echoed through the hall, bouncing off the elegant art and making her approach more than obvious. Amon didn’t make move or speak a word against it. The silence, however, was discomforting.

“Forgive me if I’m rude,” she started, “but I have seen men die before, and even in the moment of their death, it’s rather hard to say they regretted their past enough to change so drastically. If anything, they feel more hatred than remorse.” The golden eyes of the siren were trained on the man’s hands, watching them carefully. They didn’t flex in discomfort or freeze in fear. Her words did nothing to him. That was good.

“Most men were not killed by their own brother.”

His words, however, did make an impact. Maya’s head whipped as she looked at him, staring in silent shock at the back of his hood. He didn’t turn to see her.

“After my plan failed, I sought him out, hoping to start over a new life with him. It was there and then I hoped to redeem myself.” The siren watched as he drew one of his hands from his back, holding up to his mask. He clenched it.

“But he took it from me, at the cost of his life, and mine.” Another deep breath was drawn and released. “If my own brother thought my life so worthless, the only action I can take is redemption. Vengeance would only make me sink deeper than I already have.”

“I understand.”

Maya glanced backwards to see Chrona approaching them. She didn’t even hear him walking. Sweetie Belle was looking up at him with confusion, but she didn’t make a move to jump from his arms. Amon, however, also turned to look at him, his blank mask staring at the pink-haired boy. Chrona’s eyes met with the mask before he spoke again.

“My mother tried to kill me.”

Maya wasn’t sure if she should be shocked, scared, or sympathetic to the boy. Sweetie Belle, still curled into his arms, reached up to his neck with her fore hooves, giving the slender Chrona a very weak, but appreciated, hug. The boy gave small gasp, as if unsure the pony had just done what she had. It was soon followed with his own grateful embrace, arms holding the filly closer.

With sympathy covered, Maya settled for shocked. Amon, silent and stiff, stared at the boy as well. Chrona could only guess what he looked like under the mask. It was easier to imagine that there was nothing there at all.

“Your mother,” Amon repeated, as if trying to push the idea through his mind. “Why?” The pink haired boy shifted uncomfortably.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it.” His knees began to bend, forcing his body to curl into himself. Maya watched silently as the filly in his arms wrapped her forelegs just a little tighter around his neck. The siren hoped it would do some good.

“I understand,” Amon spoke again. “The sins of the past are not an easy thing to confess, even more so if we truly regret them.” His footsteps echoed through the large room, his march towards the boy a short one. When he was within distance, the white masked man raised his hand to the boy’s shoulder, brushing against the white fur of the pony’s leg. Both Chrona and Sweetie Belle looked up to him.

Amon spoke, “Your regret for your actions is evidence enough for me you will not commit them again.” The boy’s lip trembled.

“It’s okay Chrona,” Sweetie said, earning his immediate attention. “You’re just sad. And my sister always says that when we’re sad, we just need to have somepony give us a hug.” Sweetie nuzzled her head and mane into the crook of the boy’s neck. “I promise to hug you for as long as it takes.”

A chorus of hiccups and sniffles came from the boy, but not a word of protest.

Amon removed his hand from the boy’s shoulder, returning it to behind his back. Maya watched on mutely, astounded by the display and words she had witnessed. Such a display on Athenas would have been publicly mocked. Here, it was embraced. There wasn’t anything she could see being wrong with that.

The Siren let out a soft sigh, finally relaxing for the first time in Amon’s presence. He reminded  her too much of the monks from the Abbey, but he didn’t seem to have any desire to harm them. He would have had more than a chance earlier with Chrona.

Maya turned from the trio, looking out the window the masked man had. Window was a generous term. There was no glass to keep the breeze from tickling her skin, and hardly a rail to keep her from falling from the room.

It didn’t make the view any less spectacular.

Maya’s golden eyes looked over a landscape she could only describe as forbidden. The land was large and expansive, stretching from under the tower. Like patches of cloth sewn together, the land was dotted with terrain she was taught as a child couldn’t exist with one another.

She saw a mountain to her right, rising higher than the tower itself, dotted with buildings of purple and gold, all tied together with a grand castle in the center. Then she saw another mountain to her far left, its summit barely rising above her eye-line. But between the two, she saw a collection of towering trees too small to be called a forest, sand piled in over an expanse of land too small to be called even a beach, pools of water dotting the landscape too small to be called anything larger than ponds, and finally, temples.

Growing in the Abbey, taught to pray and worship all her life, temples were things Maya was made to learn nearly every day of her life. She knew a temple when she saw one. She had just never seen so many so close together, and with such different designs.

One was built atop the mountain to her right, another into the foot of the mountain to her left. One rose from the sand like a pillar, another was covered by the trees of the tiny woods, and, just barely enough for her eyes to see, some peaked from the ponds of water, sunk into the depths of the liquid.

That was not to mention the other towers and monuments scattered throughout the land. Some looked like pillars, thin and jagged, jutting from the ground. Others looked like small hills, built up to a large plateau roof. There was even one that appeared to be a mountain itself, far past the remnants of the forest, desert, and lake.

But even with the copious number of temples, landscapes, and terrain aside, there was one sight that the Siren could not release. All around her, beyond the mountains and terrains, a cliff hung before the horizon.

There was only one word that came to Maya’s mind.

“Wow.”

Her word gained the focus of those behind her.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Amon’s deep voice earned Maya’s attention, though she only offered a glance from her golden eyes before returning to the landscape. “Traveling across all the lands of my old world I had never seen a sight like this before. Then again, I also never had a tower that bore my name.” The Siren snorted at the words, debating if he was entertaining his ego, or truly explaining the uniqueness of the land. Both seemed plausible.

“What is- WHOA!” The sudden exclamation from the filly earned a small jump from Maya, followed closely by a discontented sigh. Chrona soon joined by her side, Sweetie Belle still sitting comfortably in his arms, no longer hanging from his neck. Their lavender and green eyes were staring at the expanse of terrain with the same look of awe as Maya had.

“For what it’s worth, I haven’t seen anything like… this... before either.” Maya waved her hand out towards the land as she spoke, a word to describe what she was seeing not coming to her. “Maybe over the entire planet, but not just a piece of land on a cliff’s edge.”

“Cliff’s edge?” Amon spoke questioningly. “What makes you think we are on the edge of a cliff?” Maya’s brow rose at the masked man.

“Because of the large shear drops that are literally circling this tower, at least as far as I can see.” Maya’s finger traced the horizon, the eyes of Chrona and Sweetie Belle following the older woman’s line. “Where I’m from, that’s called a cliff.”

“And yet, when that same drop encircles us, we are no longer on a cliff, but an island.” The wind blew through the window, its whistling the only sound that echoed through the chamber. Maya stared at him blankly.

“An island.” She repeated, as if letting the idea roll through her mind. “Like what, an island at sea?”

“I do not know.” The masked man spoke again. “But I would assume not. I cannot see any water aside from those pools on the ground. Also, look closely off the edge.” His gloved hand rose from his back, pointing out the window as he did so. “What do you see?”

Maya’s eyes followed his direction looking far out and beyond the drop. Her vision squinted to narrow her vision, too distracted by the multiple collections of terrain. At first, all she could see was the edge of the land, dropping off into the horizon.

Then something floated by.

“It’s a cloud.” Chrona noted calmly, as if it wasn’t meant to be a surprising sight. “It’s a cloud floating around the island.” His vision turned to the masked man and siren. “What does that mean?”

“It means we are at an extreme altitude, in other words, far above sea level.” Amon’s hand returned to his back, gaze set outwards again. Maya however, let her hand run over her bare forehead.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” She mumbled to herself. “I was killed with Gaige, then I woke up in castle, then I was attacked by some… thing, and now I’m on top of the world with an androgynous boy, talking pony, and a masked man.” Her fingers ran over her eyelids, trying to calm her mind. “Maybe I should have stayed at the Abbey, and I hated the Abbey.” A sigh followed her words.

“Um, Mr. Amon?” The timid voice earned the man’s attention. “If I can ask, um, who were you looking at before?” The question caught the attention of the siren.

“Who?” Amon spoke in question. “Do you not mean what?” Chrona shook his head.

“No, because you were talking about being above others earlier and, um, I-I think you were looking at someone, right?”

Sweetie Belle’s vision changed from the pink haired boy to the white masked man, keeping her lips tight and sealed. Maya did much the same. A deep breath was drawn through Amon’s mask, and it caused a shiver to run down the boy’s back. The chuckle that followed, however, broke the tension.

“You are a clever child.” The compliment caught Chrona by surprise, as his gasp was indication of. He looked down at Sweetie Belle, still curled in his arms. She was looking up at him, a spark of confusion in her eyes. Chrona suspected he had the same look in his.

Amon’s boots clicked the short distance to the window’s edge, facing outwards once more. The whistling of the wind held claim over the room again, but only for a short while.

“I do not know how, nor even why, but in my rebirth into this world, I was given more than merely a chance for redemption.” Both of his hands rose from his back as he spoke, unfolding and reaching outwards. His palms were held upwards, as if holding an object none of them could see.

“When I ruled in my world, I did so through deception, pretending I had an awesome power that made the masses both fear and worship me.” Chrona, his attention solely focused on the man speaking, swallowed on a ball of saliva.

“Now, I have a fraction of that power.” Maya’s curiosity was as deep as the boy’s and filly’s.

“And what power is that?” Her words were spoken carefully, her left arm clenching into a fist. Amon, however, didn’t turn to face her or move to threaten her. His words chilled her enough.

“To see the souls of others.”

Recognition dawned in the eyes of the dark robed boy.

“Soul-Sight,” Chrona spoke easily, almost as if he was reading from a book. “I-It’s an ability some of m-my old friends could do.” Intentionally or not, he drew Sweetie Belle closer into his chest as he spoke. “It’s very rare.”

“Wait, hold on.” Maya spoke up, holding up her palms as she did so. One of them curled until her finger pointed at the boy. “Can you see souls? No, better question.” Her vision turned to Amon again, finger following her gaze. “You can see our souls?”

“Yes,” Amon answered easily, but his deep voice and cold tone did little to ease Maya. The sudden thought of having her soul being peered at irked the woman. “And I apologize if you think it rude of me. I have no control over your soul, I can only look at it, as you might a piece of paper.” The siren nodded slowly.

“Um, Mr. Amon,” Sweetie Belle spoke up, raising her hoof into the air as she did so. Chrona bent his head to see past its obstructive view. “What does my soul look like?” For some reason, the boy thought the man behind the mask was smiling. He didn’t want to imagine it though; it would be difficult to deal with.

“It is small and fragile, only slightly larger than yourself,” the pony flushed at the words. “But it’s bright, illuminating the room. I have not had this power for long, but I can assume with assurance that you have a kind and generous heart.” Chrona felt his arms heating up. He wondered if it was because of Sweetie Belle.

“Okay, that’s adorable,” Maya spoke up again, desperately trying to revert the attention to the topic at hand, “but can you tell us who you were looking at now?” Amon’s mask focused on the blue-haired woman, not speaking a word as he did so. The siren, however, too used to the monks at the Abbey, stood her ground with ease. When the man turned from her to look out the large glassless window, Maya counted it as a victory.

“There are two figures in the woods.” Amon began to speak. “They are both completely still, as if they were frozen in ice. They are, however, alive.” Silence followed his words for a short time, analyzing what his vision saw. “One of them is a horse, much like you.” His hand waved towards Sweetie Belle as he spoke. If he didn’t before, he had the filly’s attention now.

“Really?” She asked with enthusiasm. “What does she look like?”

“She has an orange coat and a long blond mane and tail. I am more familiar with the human body than the physique of a horse, but she appears to be strong, very strong. There is also a hat on her head.”

“That’s Applejack!”

The sudden shout from the filly earned a jump from Chrona, his grip around her becoming a little tighter. He looked down to see Sweetie Belle, who was staring at Amon. Her eyes were wide with what the boy could only peg as amazement, which her joyful smile helped to emphasize.

“Applejack?” Amon mimicked the filly, looking at her with a neutral posture. The filly didn’t flinch.

“Yeah, she’s the big sister of one of my best friends!” When the smile grew across the pony’s white muzzle, it became clear she was more joyful than fearful. When Chrona’s eyes looked up to Amon’s mask, he wished for not the first time to be able to see the face beneath it. He didn’t know how to deal with a talking mask.

Well… that wasn’t entirely true.

“I see.” The deep voice of Amon spoke, his head turning towards the far off woods again. Silence made itself home in the grand room, the four creatures present still with patience. “There is man with her as well.” A deep breath left his mask as his vision focused on the far off forest. “He is in a white robe, a sword carried by his side, held in a black scabbard. His hair is equally dark, and tied in a bun, with geta on his feet.”

“I… I think his name is… Jack.” Chrona softly spoke, earning the attention of the other three. He blushed immediately at the focus of their attention. “I-I only heard it once… while, a-and briefly, too. I don’t know.”

“You know something we do not. Don’t doubt yourself so easily.” It was odd to Chrona, hearing such comforting words coming from such a deep and chilling voice. It reminded him of someone he didn’t want to remember.

“So… Applejack and Jack… why do I get the feeling that was planned out?” Maya scratched her head as she asked the question, half serious and half rhetorically.

“Then you know them both?” Amon questioned the siren. She was quick to dismiss the claim.

“Know them? No, I don’t.” She spoke with a shaking head, causing her bangs to whip. “I saw them for all of a few seconds before I ended up here. It’s probably the same story for Chrona and Sweetie Belle here.” When the attention was turned to the boy, his face flushed in embarrassment. When Sweetie Belle heard Maya speak, she blinked in confusion.

“Interesting.” Amon noted before turning away from the boy. Chrona felt a bit of relief work its way into his body, glad to have the attention drawn off of him. He felt a pressure on his forearm, and he looked down to see it. Sweetie Belle was gripping it in her forelegs, smiling up at him as she did so. He gratefully returned the gesture.

“Wait.” Amon’s word earned the attention of the trio. “They are moving.”

The four beings in the room turned their attention to the forest, as if hoping to see what would happen. Only one could, however. It was a fact that quickly became clear to Maya.

“Amon,” she spoke his name kindly. “Can you tell us what is happening?” The masked man nodded towards her, mask as empty as ever before.

“Of course,” he agreed, turning his vision back to the woods. “The man is moving right now. He appears to be heavily disoriented. But he is faring better than the horse. She appears to be very weak…”

The world returned to her in a slow haze. Everything around her felt disproportioned and heavy, moved and out of place. Only vaguely was she aware that she was lying on her side, and even then she couldn’t tell which was up or down. Her hooves were heavy, vision dark, and fur wetter than her dog’s nose. But more than anything else, her head throbbed, like an angry bull was stomping around on the inside.

Applejack was sure of one thing though; the pain meant she was alive.

A slow groan left her lips as she tried to turn herself over. She felt the wetness beneath her cling to her fur, holding it almost possessively as she turned. It gave a slow lick over her skin, complete with a wet flop as her limbs swung over her body, only to land again on the moist surface.

She dragged her legs inward, feeling the ground beneath her. It was ground, that she could tell. Applejack and her family entire had tilled enough earth and care for enough trees to be able to tell a bit of soil and vegetation apart. Right now, she was on grass. No doubt wet from some form of early morning or deep forest dew.

“Ms. Apple”

Something hummed outside of her hearing, only faintly permeating the thick barrier that was her mind. It sounded like somepony was trying to speak to her, but for all Applejack could tell, it might as well have been Winona barking at her.

Another groan left her lips as she tried to push herself to her hooves, putting her full weight on her unresponsive limbs. Her legs only quivered as she tried to stand.

“Do not worry, I am here. I can help.”

Applejack felt limbs wrapping around her, pushing themselves beneath her weighty frame and the slick ground she still lay on. It was an uncomfortable feeling, her fur clinging to the invading bodies, pulling at her skin as they did so. But she felt herself slowly rise because of it, the objects wrapped around her slowly pulling her up.

Her breathing quickened in slight panic, strength returning to her limbs, even if temporarily. Instantly, she felt the strength in the objects curled around her weaken, dropping her closer to the ground. Her legs still didn’t have the strength to hold her upright.

“I apologize.” The sound came again, far off and dull, like she was hearing it through a thick membrane, or water. It was probably water. Her mind felt like it was swimming in water.

She couldn’t keep her jaw straight, leaving it to hang uselessly beneath her head. Every part of her felt just as heavy and useless. Even her mind seemed to have a weight upon it, fogging it with haze.

Applejack could feel parts of her yearning for different things. One part of her wanted to lie back down on the ground and wait for these dreary symptoms to pass. Another wished she had the strength to stand on her own hooves, instead of depending on the thing that was supporting her now. But then another wanted, more than the other two parts combined, to be able to tell where she was.

That was when she started to hear ringing.

It was faint, far off like the muffled sounds she had been hearing so far. And yet, it was soothing like water, a peaceful sound that seemed to make her heavy limbs lighter and hazy mind clearer.

With a begrudging effort from her body, she forced her eyes to open, making the heavy lids move. Her vision was just as blurry and formless as her mind. Colors merged, shapes melted, and she was left with a sight that she could only think of to describe as smashed Zap Apples.

But, somehow, through her bleary and awful gaze, there was a single object she could define.

“What is that?”

Only faintly could Applejack make out the question, formed by what she could tell was a voice for the first time. But, fortunately or not, she could more than easily see the thing the voice was questioning. Even through Applejack’s darkened gaze, it was easy to see.

It was hard to miss a glowing object, after all.

BEGIN

“Mighty… peaceful… like…” The words rolled from her lips, pushing past her tongue. It felt like speaking with leaves in her mouth, talking through things that weren’t there. Her words, however, seemed to attract the small flying object.

Slowly, most likely delicately, it hovered over to her, lightly flying just out of the boundaries of her vision. Its light pink glow shined over her though, warming her frigid hooves and drying her wet fur. For the first time since she groggily awoke, a more peaceful sigh left her lips in place of a pained groan.

In truth, she felt better. Or, more specifically, she was starting to feel better.

Her legs started to gain strength, the weight of her limbs becoming more manageable and familiar to her. Breathing was easier as well, her breaths quickly becoming less and less labored to her. Even the clouds in her mind began to dissipate. Thoughts came more easily to her and, more importantly, she was able to gain more of a breathing of where she was.

The first thing she noticed, however, were the arms wrapped around her torso, clothed in a white material.

“Can you stand?” The question was much clearer than any of the words she had heard before. Just one more thing to be thankful for in her book.

“Yep, Ah’m as set as a new fence post.” She could feel the life in her voice. It felt just as good as being able to stand again. The man next to her, however, didn’t move. “Ya’ll can let go of me now, Jack.”

“Oh,” the samurai spoke simply, releasing her as he took a step back as he did so. “My apologies Ms. Apple.” The farm pony pushed away the small annoyance at the title. She felt too good to let a name put her down.

“Ain’t no harm done.” Her green eyes looked to the small object floating in the air, hovering above her still, circling in the air with its light pink glow. The longer she looked at it, the better she felt. “Ah reckin Ah owe ya somethin’ mighty nice,” she spoke to the flying light, unaware if it could make sense of her words or not. “Couldn’t be no coincidence that Ah get a life in the spirits soon as ya started flyin’ near me.”

The small ball of light danced in the air, buzzing almost. It drifted closer to Applejack’s snout, holding place just in front of her eyes. The light coming off of the small object was far too bright for Applejack to grab any kind of detail. No detail except for the light. The light, and the two sets of near insect-like wings coming from the ball.

“I believe this to be… a fairy.” The words of the samurai drew Applejack’s attention, if only momentarily. “Though it is far different than the ones I have seen before.”

The pink fairy flew away from Applejack, hovering now in front of Jack’s nose. The man crossed his eyes and leaned his head back, keeping himself from being blinded by the light. It was shaking in what Applejack couldn’t help but think of as delight.

“Ah’ll take that as a sign yer right.” The farm pony spoke with a smirk across her muzzle, keeping a scoff from passing her lips.

Her eyes looked downwards, away from the man that accompanied her and the fairy that had helped her. As she had thought even through her pain-filled haze, the ground was covered with a neat layer of grass, coated in turn with dew. Her hooves drew lightly over the grass, feeling the life in the roots as she did so.

An earth pony born and raised, and in turn used in her profession, Applejack could tell a healthy shrub from touch and feel alone. When she touched the grass beneath her hooves, she felt anything but strength. Rather the opposite, she felt as if the green grass beneath her was weak.

Frowning, she dug her hoof into the soil, pulling at it. She bit her lips as she found the roots of the grass easily. Unfortunately, they were what she thought they would be, sickly and unhealthy. Too thin and too shallow to properly absorb the water that coated them, and no doubt diseased in some way to keep their already small and thin roots reduced in number. It didn’t sit right with her.  A sight left her lips as she looked upwards.

If she hadn’t sighed, she would have gasped in shock.

High above her stood a canopy of trees, far higher than any shrubbery she had ever grown before, it loomed over her, towering like a mountain before her small and vulnerable form. The sight forced her ears to perk, and the perking of her ears brought the sound of the mighty monoliths to her ears.

They groaned with the stature, swaying in ways that forced their immensely thick wood and bark to cry in protest. When one ended its painful call, another responded in kind, its trunk swaying in a direction opposite to the one before. It was a conversation of giants, and one Applejack had only the knowledge of a toddler to appreciate.

“Whoa nelly…” she breathlessly spoke, spinning on her hooves as she tried to right herself. Vertigo was a sensation she had experienced before, but never when she was on the ground looking up. It was a whole new kind of weird.

“Are you alright Ms. Apple?” Jack asked next to her, his digitized hand laying over her coat, steadying her. She leaned into it graciously. Her vision, however, was brightened immensely with the presence of the fairy floating in front of her.

It weaved through the air in a frantic pattern, painting the pattern of a sideways eight. Applejack stared at the display for a moment, unsure if it was trying to help her or figuring out a way to ask if she was alright. It made a ringing noise with every pass.

“Ah’m good, Ah’m all set.” The form pony assured the two, leaning off Jack’s hand and standing to her tallest again. She picked her hat off her head, lightly waving it over her face to generate a cool, but soft breeze. It helped to ease her mind. A few breaths of relief and she returned the Stetson hat to the top of her mane.

“If you are ill, please tell me.” Applejack dismissed the Samurai with her hoof, keeping a grateful smile on her lips.

“Ah ain’t sick or nothin’,” she answered easily. “Just didn’t expect Discord ta drop us in a forest that makes mah home grown trees look like regular shrubs.” The farm pony let her vision darken for a second, shutting her eyes as she readjusted her bearings. Breaths became easier after a small amount of time.

“These woods are grand, but I have seen structures taller than these.” Applejack let the words process through her mind before she opened her mouth to question the man. However, by the time her question was ready, he was already speaking again. “But the uniqueness of the woods is not for their height, but for their liveliness.” The question in Applejack’s mind withered and died at his words.

“What ‘re ya’ll talkin’ about?” Rather than answer her with words, Jack instead began to walk forward, easily earning the attentive gaze of the farm pony. He walked to the nearest tree, and placed his hand on it, rubbing his palm over the bark like an artist would their finest work.

In a flash his sword swung at the tree.

“Whoa there!” Applejack shouted as she backpedaled from the display. The flash of light and singing of metal more that startling her. The high ring and frantic flight of the fairy near her was all the proof she needed to know the man’s action was not one commonly taken.

Her eyes focused on Jack just in time to see his blade return to his dark sheath. His form remained still as the ground as he continued to face the tree. For a moment, the only sound Applejack heard was her breathing, the fairy’s flying, and the trees high above still groaning under their own weight.

“Nothing.” The word was spoken so simply and so suddenly, Applejack was almost unaware the samurai had said it. Her green eyes flashed to the pink fairy hovering beside her. She could image the little tuft of light was looking at her as well.

“What in tarnation are ya doin’ over there Jack?” Her question held more bite than she intended. Before he answered, however, the samurai stepped away from the tree, letting the farm pony see what his sword work had done.

“My sword could barely scratch the surface of these trees.” If Applejack’s gaze had become any flatter, she would have fallen onto the forest’s floor.

“Yeah, so? No offense partner, but I don’t think ya got the brawn ta do much more to a tree with just that there knife.” Despite her words, Jack continued to look at her with an unflinching gaze.

“Then you underestimate this blade.” His hand gripped the guard of the tool, thumb running down its length with care. “It was designed by the gods as a tool to slay the wicked, and protect the innocent. There is very little, if not nothing, this blade cannot cut.” Mutely, Applejack listened to him speak. He words were far too honest for her to think he was lying or exaggerating in any way.

“The only thing I know it can do no harm to are innocent lives.” Those words hit a bell in Applejack’s head.

“Yer sayin’ these trees are alive?” Her question was dry, spoken with a light smile. Jack gave her a nod of affirmation. In return, the pony chuckled lightly. “Aw Jack, Ah coulda told ya there was life in plants an’ trees. I work mah fields long enough every day ta get a sense of that at least.”

“Truly?” The samurai questioned her. “I was honestly unaware that such forms of life could carry honest thoughts.”

“Beg yer pardon there Jack,” the farm pony spoke with a dismissing hoof. “But this ain’t exactly yer hometown now.” The samurai blinked. “Ah ain’t the most cultured of ponies, but Ah can at least tell ya that around Equestria’s parts, trees an’ ponies tend have a tight relationship.”

“Oh, my apologies.” The human quickly bowed as he spoke, eyes shut in submission. Applejack felt a flush run through her cheeks. Her teeth grit each other as the fairy that had helped her flew between them. The pony couldn’t shake the thought that it was teasing her somehow.

“Ain’t nothin’ ta be sorry for Jack,” the pony waved off again, just before she pulled her hat over face. She almost felt a tooth crack under the strength her jaw was clamped on itself with.

“Very well, but now I have a question to ask.” Applejack felt the blood leave her enough to warrant her hat being moved. Flushed features no longer stained her cheeks.

“Have you not yet noticed our trapped state?” Honestly, the pony had not.

Applejack looked around herself, truly looking at the trees that surrounded them now for the first time. In every direction her green eyes looked, she saw the trunk of a mighty forest giant. Between the trunks there was no more than a hoof’s length of room. The gigantic structures were all rooted to the dead ground beneath her, crowded in a manner so tight and so constricting she would have shed a tear to see it on her farm.

No wonder the ground beneath her felt so dead. The trees were kept so tightly packed there weren’t enough nutrients in the ground to keep even the grass alive anymore. The very fact that the trees were as tall as they were was nothing short of a miracle.

That didn’t temper Applejack’s patience or their pink fairy friend’s annoyed flight.

“Ya mean ta tell me that Discord dropped us in the middle of ‘er bunch of trees, trunk to trunk so tight that we can’t shimmy ‘tween them and so thick ya can’t cut them?” Her voice carried a sarcastic whine, as if there was answer she couldn’t see. The ball of light above her buzzed with its wings. The pony could only imagine it was holding back some kind of fit of annoyance.

“Oddly specific, but yes.” The simplicity of his answer earned a scoff from Applejack.

“Well dang nabbit, what’re we gonna do now?” The farm pony slowly strode in front of the wall of trees, both appreciating and loathing their strength and size. It was one of the first few times nature had fought against her. “Should we wait fer the trees ta wither and die?”

“I would think that would take far more time than we have available to us.” The samurai answered almost immediately. It took a moment for the orange earth pony to realize just how serious he thought her question to be. It was hard to tell if he was either too honest or too thick to see the rhetorical sense of her words. She felt like Twilight as she decided to test the idea.

“Ah don’t suppose ya know a way out of here?” The pony asked. “Between the trees that ‘er higher than a mountain and the wall they practically make, Ah ain’t seein’ an easy way out of here, do you?”

“I do actually have an idea of where to go.”

That earned Applejack’s attention.

“Really? Where might that be?” Her green eyes looked up to the man’s dark orbs, which were focused forward and into the growth of the trees, shadowed and hidden by the canopy of them. The pink fairy that flew around his head broke orbit, slowly drifting down his trail of vision.

Applejack followed the sprite with curious eyes, watching as it slowly illuminated the shadows between the trees. As a farmer from a field of trees, she expected nothing between the mighty wooden pillars but new growth or saplings.

Instead, the pink fairy illuminated a path she never expected to see, not in a forest at least.

Dark gray stones layered on top of one another, disturbed and pushed by the roots of the trees around them. Arches and door frames, pushed into shambles by tree branches and twigs, and a dark empty hall, only given home to shadows as the tall canopy of trees hid above them.

“What in the name of Celestia is that?” The earth pony swore in question, tilting back the brim of her hat for a better view. Jack spoke simply and easily next to her.

“A trap, doubtlessly.” The words earned him critical eyes from the farm pony. “But, it’s also the only path we have to walk. Waiting here is not an option.”

“Whoa now, why ain’t it an option?” Applejack asked with a tone that matched her eyes, critical and challenging. “We ain’t got no reason to venture into some ruin like that.” Her hoof jabbed at the dark passageway as she spoke, their fairy friend hovering around the passage.

“There is nowhere for us to go, and if this monster of yours returns here, we will have no chance against him.” Applejack heard the swish of metal before she saw the shine of his blade. The pony took a step or two back as the human handled the sword in front of him expertly.

“I have more experience in dealing with the ruins of old worlds than I do gods that toy with men. And I have experience in both.” His words were like the tree trunks around them. Impossible to ignore and hard as stone.

“Ah, don’t like this.” The farm pony muttered. Jack nodded before he spoke in turn.

“Neither do I Ms. Apple, but if we are to leave this odd realm of your monster’s creation, we must do as he has requested of us.” Applejack scoffed, knowing full well what the samurai meant in his words.

“I hate these kind of games.”

END