A Story of Freytara

by Tyrannosaurus_Tux

Rating: teen
Tags: Main 6, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Comedy, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 29803

I wake up in a meadow. Then I see a saddlebag-laden Twilight Sparkle. Chase ensues, and thus begins my obligorial self-insert journey in Equestria.

I wake up in a meadow. Then I see a saddlebag-laden Twilight Sparkle. Chase ensues, and thus begins my obligorial self-insert journey in Equestria.

Join me as I do things.

Not to be taken seriously.

Published 2013-02-12 05:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-06-27 17:51:04 UTC

1 - What is this??

Ahh, this is a nice spot to sleep.

…

Wait a minute.

My eyes jerk open, revealing the bright landscape around me. I sit up, trying to gauge the situation. As I looked around the flowery meadow, spotting all the varieties of flora around me, one thing is obviously clear.

This isn’t my bedroom.

I had a sudden urge to check myself.

Limb count turns up four and a head. That’s good.

As confusion sets in, I realized I’m all dressed up in the day clothes that I usually go out with. My black sweatshirt, a teeshirt I couldn’t see, my jeans, and my socks n' shoes.

Okay, so I’m dressed up and I woke up in the middle of a field, and uninjured. What else do I have on my person?

All pockets turn up empty save for one. A brand-new iPhone with brand-new cover and earbuds.

This isn’t mine.

I turn it on to see the time is 9:32, and I have a good signal.

Signal where, though?

I try using the phone but was slightly startled to see a wallpaper of Discord, the draconequus, that villain from My Little Pony, looking mischievous. I checked google maps but it gave me an error message. Great. I put the phone away and I look around some more. Maybe I can recognize where I am if I get up on that hill there.

As I take the short walk up to the crest of the flowery hill, a black cat crosses my path, appearing out of a flower patch. I was startled for a second, but then I get slightly panicky realizing that I had only moments until my sinuses betrayed me again. I braced myself, but then... nothing happened. No allergy symptoms, no shortness of breath, nothing. I look around again and I realize that I should’ve been miserable a long time ago, seeing as all this pollen’s floating around. I look back to the cat, whom I notice has cartoonish proportions as it gazes at me with those large cat eyes.

Wait, what?

I look around again, unbelieving that I didn’t notice this earlier. The world looks like a cartoon.

I look at my hands, seeing how the cartoony nature of this land affected how I saw myself. I still had the same hands as I did have, though. I notice the burn scar on my palm from accidentally touching hot metal during metalworking. So I’m dreaming, then. I pinch myself really hard.

Ow.

I heard a mew, and I look back down to the cat, who has taken a fondness to me, rubbing its face on my legs. I sit down, and it jumps into my lap, completely at ease. I was hesitant, but I started petting it. I always liked cats before I realized one could make me miserable, so I was apprehensive of them ever since. Until now, apparently, where this cartoon world cures me of my troubles and looks grand to look at. Seeing all the trees and the mountains in the distance triggers many memories. This seems like a nice paradise, which raises a serious question.

Did I die? My hand darts to my neck, and I sense a pulse. If I die, do I have a pulse in heaven?

A lot of conflicting emotions eat at me, and I stop petting for a moment, in which the cat looks at me with concerned eyes as if to say “Is something the matter?” I sigh and I resume petting, choosing to enjoy this simple peace I found myself in. Soon, the cat is asleep on my lap, so I set it back on the grass as gently as I dared. I continued to stare at the terrain, thinking of anything and everything. As I reflected on myself, I failed to notice the presence of another being approaching from my right. The shuffling of someone moving through grass and flowers catch my attention, so I turned my head to the right.

My body was immediately seized by shock and panic as I saw something, rather someone, whom I suppose thousands would work their whole lives to see.

I saw a curious Twilight Sparkle investigating me. She had saddlebags, which I immediately forgot about because I just saw a cartoon pony. I involuntarily started to crawl backward in panic as I assessed the situation, and what I should do. My primal instincts (Or what I thought of them as) had this to offer as sage advice.

Run.

I looked at Twilight Sparkle who was approaching me with an increasing amount of concern over my reaction to seeing her. I got up and ran for my life. My destination: away from here. As I got on my feet, I hear her cry out for me to stop. My panicked state meant that this request was ignored. Though I do think I responded with a scared yelp, my mind at this time was fogged over with panic at seeing a Defictionalization of what I used to think was a fictional character.

For an instant, as I ran, I marveled with the ease of the effort of running. Normally, my lungs would burn out so I couldn’t run for long durations, but right now I feel as if I could run for miles. This train of thought was interrupted as a purple, perhaps violet light burst into existence in front of me, but then receded to reveal a slightly annoyed Twilight Sparkle.

Right. Teleportation spells.

She again ordered me to stop, but I might’ve given it consideration before realizing she was too close and I had too much inertia to properly stop, so a collision was inevitable. She realized it, too, and her horn lit up, summoning a forcefield, which I had no chance to evade.

A moment later, I was sprawled on the ground, clutching at what remained of my nose.

Ow.... ow ow ow ow.

Twilight evidently went from Stop right there! to So so so sorry! in a heartbeat as she rushed to my side, flooding my ears with apologies. I saw that she said something about the first-aid book in her saddlebag, but I was already up on my feet again, running for the wood. I turned around to see Twilight dig into her pack, but I wasn’t about to stop for first aid. I was still very much in get the hell outta here mode. I think I made it into the wood when she realized I had bolted again. I think she was too late, though. I had already picked a hiding spot in the bush as she searched the wood for me.

Wait, wood?

I look to see that this was an ordinary forest and not the nasty-nasty Everfree forest. That would be a tricky place to hide in. I nursed my nose, and to my delight, was not broken or bleeding.

Doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt like a forcefield to the face.

I froze up and sat still as Twilight passed over my hiding place in her search for me.

How... how did she not see me?

I thanked my lucky stars as I heard Twilight give up the chase and announce that she would bring friends to find me. She ran off, and I released a sigh. Then I began panicking again.

More ponies? Oh, boy.

I looked around for a better hiding place, and I saw a tree with plenty of cover so that I wouldn’t be easily seen should I lay still in the branches. I enacted my plan, and I was again astonished at the ease of which I climbed the tree.

This is getting ridiculous.

I settled in as I heard incoming. Twilight had indeed returned, and she had indeed brought a friend with her. I poked my head out of my cover to see Fluttershy, escorted by her animal friends who would undoubtedly look for me, too.

Best pony and second best pony are after me? This is... still too weird.

I ducked back in, and I tried to wait it out. Several agonizing minutes passed, and I was starting to think I was in the clear when I saw Angel Bunny approach my tree. I cursed whatever gods were watching over me the instant he looked up and smiled a smug smile as he barely spotted me. I hissed at him that I would gut him like a fish should he give away my position seemed to convince (read: scared) him to not do that, though, and proceeded to report his “findings” to Fluttershy, who left with Twilight. She again announced that she would bring more friends should I not come out right the heck now. She sighed, and Fluttershy doubted that Twilight actually saw me.

Three cheers for new best pony. I clutched at my chest, heart pounding faster than when I was running for the proverbial hills.

I saw Angel bunny race up to Fluttershy and point at my tree excitedly with a smug expression on his face.

Three boos for worst bunny.

She and Twilight slowly approached my tree as I again cursed whoever put me in this position, and they looked up. I froze. After a bit, I realized that they didn’t spot me. I thanked my lucky stars until Twilight parted some leaves with her magic.

Oh, no.

I dropped out of the tree, startling them, and I ran away, planning to use the twists and turns of the trees to evade them, trying to break line-of-sight as often as possible. After a while, I stopped behind a tree and I witnessed the pair of ponies race by me, trying to catch me. As soon as they were out of sight again, I sighed. I found that I was hungry, and I checked the time. 10:28.

How do I get food without being discovered?

A new thought comes to my mind; I should try calling my family.

As I frantically dialed home, I berated myself for not trying this earlier.

My attempt was interrupted by an echo of a giggle reached my ears, and my rage intensified. I screamed to the sky for Discord to show himself and end this charade, or at least feed me so I can continue this silly game of “Find the human”. To my surprise, a water bottle appeared in one hand and a sandwich appeared in the other in a flash of light. The echoey voice giggled again, and I decided that he does want me to suffer. So I ate and drank with a nasty look on my face. I finished the admittedly good sandwich, and I emptied the water bottle, which vanished in a flash of light. I checked the time again.

10:32.

I heard more voices, so I clambered up a tree and resumed this silly charade. I saw that Twilight had enlisted the rest of the mane 6 and they all split up to find me in the wood. Twilight called out with an annoyed tone in her voice, while Fluttershy sweetly tried to assure me that nothing bad will happen if I come out, and Pinkie was hopping around, trying to lure me out with fresh-baked cupcakes, balanced on a plate on her head.

Cheeky.

Rarity, I could see, was just as annoyed with me as Twilight was, while I heard Applejack use the word “varmint” and the phrase “tie yeh up like a rustler” plenty of times, to the chastisement of Fluttershy. Rainbow Dash, on the other hand... she was ordering me to come out or suffer her wrath.

Please.

I waited for a couple of minutes, silent as a stone, observing their efforts, before noticing that the enticing smell of cupcakes was really strong for some reason. I looked to my left, and I saw Pinkie sitting next to me with the widest grin on her face. I lost my balance and fell out of the tree. Upon landing, I was beset upon by Pinkie and her endless questions about myself. I was still recovering from the fall, so my dazed vision saw a whole lotta pink and not much else. As my vision cleared, I saw that I was surrounded.

I attempted to flee again, with panicked screams and thrashing, but the combined efforts and weights of the ponies subdued me as Applejack tied my hands behind my back.

Clever girl.

I stopped resisting, face down on the ground, and the surreal nature of the past few hours fade away as I conceded defeat.

“You win.”

Author's Note

It had to be done. I just needed to get this out of my system.

2 - Why is this??

The ponies stopped their efforts instantly, upon my surrender. They hesitated for a moment, then Rarity clears her throat and states,

“Well. That’s good you can see reason.”

I roll my eyes, as do the rest of the ponies (Or so I imagine them doing right now if my face wasn’t pinned to the ground, and thus unable to see their reaction.)

I asked,

“So you’ll let me go?”

Their split reactions surprised me. Some ponies moved to free me, while others stated I could be dangerous. I took this time they distracted themselves to ease up on my feet and sneak away. As soon as I was out of sight, I heard a very frustrated groan/growl/roar from Twilight Sparkle.

Oh. I just made her mad. Good for me?

So I ran as fast as I could with rope bindings throughout the trees. Now the six ponies were in pursuit, all of them, save for Pinkie and Fluttershy, were annoyed at my eagerness to be free. I realized that Rainbow Dash would be the most capable pursuer, as I had to duck to avoid her tackle. Ruffled my short hair, though. That got my attention. I halted while Rainbow Dash was momentarily confused by my stopping. I see that she looked at me with a curious 'o' mouth. I looked up to her and calmly said,

“Leave me alone, please.”

She folded her arms and gave me a smug smile (Quite a recurring thing with the natives today). While admittedly cute, I had no time for this.

Before realizing that I had done it, I had run up a section of a tree, jumped off and headbutted Rainbow Dash in the stomach, albeit awkwardly what with my hogtied hands. With a sarcastic thanks, I ran off again, leaving Rainbow Dash to nurse her hurt pride.

I'll figure out how I did such a feat later.

After a while of running through the trees, I rested against a section of a tree. My breath slows down to the point where I can consider myself hidden against the low ground, hidden by the tree and terrain. I look around; no sign of life. I gave a sigh.

A hyperactive Pinkie Pie startles me with a greeting. She was still balancing the cupcakes on her head. In my surprise, I banged my head on the tree and exclaimed in shock and pain.

Her giggly smile went away and she cupped my head with her forehooves, and looked me over, saying "Oh, I'm so sorry! You bang your head hard? ...Want a cupcake?”

She leans back, then forward again, apparently offering a cupcake to me on a plate held in her mouth. I lean to the left, showing her my bound hands. She giggles again and for a moment I only see a blur of pink. After the blur ends, the plate is on the ground and my hands were free. Pinkie Pie is sitting in front of the cupcakes, waiting for me to do something. The forest is silent, save for the rustling of leaves and the occasional bird-call.

I cautiously plucked up a colorful treat from the plate and bit into it. My eyes widened at the sugariness of it. all I gave a satisfied smile and a groan, which seems to cheer up Pinkie to an impossible degree. She hops around for a bit before saying,

“That was a fun game of hide-and-go-seek, wasn’t it?”

I give a slow nod, deciding to go along. She starts to ramble on about her friends, and how they spent LIKE AN HOUR to find me. I enjoyed the rest of the cupcake, and I tried to follow Pinkie’s little rant when I was tackled from the left by a purple blur. My world became tinted by a violet color, and I was hoisted into the air.

This feels weird. I think I’m gonna be sick.

I am wheeled around to face Twilight Sparkle. My arms are pinned to my sides, and my legs are as stiff as boards, and I see the frustration in Twilight’s face. She says,

“Why do you keep running away? You said you gave up, but you ran. Why?”

I said in a quiet response,

“Please don’t eat me. That would suck. Put me down, please.”

That seems to change her disposition enough for her to let me go. Just not gently. I fell down and hurt my bum.

Ow. I might’ve broken my coccyx. No more sand dunes for me.

As I grimaced and thought of nursing my new Twilight-caused injury, She profusely apologizes and tries to comfort me. I recovered enough to sit up against the tree again, and I addressed Twilight by saying, “What happens now?”

She blinks and says, “What do you mean?”

I reply, “I’m sure you have a reason to chase me down.”

She says, “Well, I just want to know who you are. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

First! Ow. Better not screw this first contact. Hello, world!

“As to what I am, I am what they call a human. What they call me is... Tyrannosaurus Tux?”

I massage my temples. Wait, that's not my name. That's just my username on some internet functions. What is my name? She raises an eyebrow and I get a little nervous before she smiles and pulls out her notes from her bags, ready to drill me for questions.

Oh boy.

Her first question was, "Where do you come from?"

I rolled my neck, resulting in a few pops, and said, “America, Earth, Milky Way Galaxy. I just woke up here, and now I’m trying to get home.”

Her second question was then, “What?”

I shrug, and then I say, “I blame Discord for this.”

Rubbing her own temples, Twilight hissed, “Discord. Don’t worry, we’ll get you back home.”

I sigh in relief and thank her, then I say, “I’m still not sure if this is all real, though. It’s not like I might actually be unconscious and just don’t know it yet.”

A blur in my peripheral vision, and then I blacked out.

…

I found myself in a comfortable bed. The covers and mattress are of the highest quality. There were birds singing outside. I think of how good life is, then smile.

I recall past events and I was under the assumption that this is all but a weird dream, then gently opened my eyes to welcome a new day, undoubtedly filled with video games and ponies.

To my shock, I find myself not in my bedroom, but in Fluttershy’s cottage home. I look around frantically, trying in vain to dispel the notion of my being here. Well, the day will be filled with ponies, at the least. I sit up, then grasp the back of my head, which felt like it was kicked by a horse.

Perhaps it was.

I groan with the pain and the annoyance of this place. As the pain intensified, so did the groan. I gave up trying to get up and laid myself back down again.

Fantastic.

My eyes squeezed shut as I again groaned. This day already sucks.

The birds abruptly stopped chirping, and I hear someone approaching. Scratch that, several somebodies (or would that be several someponies?). I lifted my head to look at the door, and I heard faint whispers that I couldn’t discern.

The door opened slowly, and Fluttershy poked her head in. She meets my gaze, then notices as my face contorts into a mix of confusion, wonder, and pain-filled fright. Her expression turned to one of concern as my panicked self began formulating an escape plan from this madness.

Window, or door? Window, or door?

Before I could do anything else, though, my noggin ached again, and I collapsed back into the covers with a pained moan.

Fluttershy seemed to be at the bedside instantly, and she stared into my face, apologizing profusely. I raise a hand, then asked as to our current setting. She meekly explained that this was her house. She then inquired about to my health. I said,

“I feel like I got kicked in the head by a horse.”

Fluttershy sighed, then replied sadly,

“Yeah. That was R-Rainbow Dash. Twilight got mad at Rainbow Dash, saying that now you’d never trust us enough to not run away again. Y-You’re not going to do that, right?”

Another surge of pain courses through my head, and I painfully utter,

“Ow. I guess not. Not if I don’t want to get kicked in the head again. I’m not in the state to run, anyway.”

Fluttershy again apologies, and flutters out, only to return with an ice pack. I thank her as I apply it to the back of my head. Fluttershy excuses herself and then goes out again. I hear a commotion outside, and Fluttershy returns with a humble-looking Rainbow Dash in tow. She avoids eye contact with me as Fluttershy instructs Rainbow Dash to apologize. She does so, reluctantly. I accept the apology as another pulse of pain manifests in my mind, causing me to give a pained groan.

Should stop groaning. Should stop groaning—ow.

I made a movement to get out of bed, but Fluttershy objected in that cute way in which I cannot help but consent to her wishes. I relaxed back into the covers and asked her as to what is going to happen to me. She says,

“Oh. Um. Twilight has compiled some questions that we have for you. Um. If that’s okay with you.”

I agreed, and Fluttershy sent for Twilight. Twilight comes in with a clipboard and a face that betrays her curiosity but still holds distrust in her eyes. I learned that ponies are really, really easy to read. She states,

“Okay, Ty. I’ve got some questions for you. First off,

what are you?”

Oh, I could use a Wikia right about now.

“The scientific name we have given ourselves is homo sapiens.”

Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle glances at each other, at a loss.

“For the sake of simplicity, we just call ourselves humans.”

The ponies give out soft “oh”s. Twilight’s face then scrunched up in concentration, looking down and bringing a hoof to her chin. Several thoughts entered my mind at that point.

Is she recalling an ancient text with humans in them? Is she remembering some cryptic warning from Celestia about us? Am I still screwed? Twilight opens her mouth to say something, but she seems stumped. She then says,

“Nothing in my studies has even hinted at anything like you. Bipedal, 5’11’’, with no tail to speak of or the fact that you’re wearing clothing that can only be made with modern methods. I’ll have to ask Celestia if she has heard anything.”

Twilight (Again, how is this real?) shrugs, then asks,

“Where are you from, exactly?”

“In relation to here? No idea.”

Twilight raises an eyebrow, then asks,

“So, you don’t know?”

I sigh, then utter,

“I don’t even know if I’m on the same planet. What do you call this planet?”

Twilight was about to automatically recite a name, but then, confusion sets in her eyes, and she asks,

“What’s a planet?”

A pause.

I blink.

She blinks. She then says,

“Well?”

How on earth do I break this to her?

I stammer,

“Uh-uh, a planet is a (better not use the word “celestial”) cosmic body that is distinguished by its size and mass... uh.”

Both Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle have tilted their heads in confusion.

Brother.

“Where I come from, there’s a thing called ‘Space’. It encompasses everything that is beyond the sky, and reaches the stars.”

I don’t get a response, so I continue.

“Using binoculars and math a really long time ago, people (ahem humans) have deduced that the earth is round, that the whole lands is, in fact, a giant rock that is eclipsed in size and scale to everything around it on the cosmic scale in the universe.”

Fluttershy asks,

“Has anypony gone to space?”

I smile, but then say,

“It’s a tricky thing, going to a place where it’s devoid of oxygen, air pressure, heat, water, and a lot of other things I’m probably don’t know of. So, we build these giant rockets with pressurized cabins on them.”

I think I confused them with the “cabin” part, so I elaborate.
“This ‘cabin’ (notice air quotes, fillies) is more like a really safe and comfortable place for humans to sit while the rocket boosts into space. The furthest we’ve ever been is our moon.”

The ponies gasp. Twilight stutters,

“Y-you’ve been to the moon? With rockets? How many times!?”

I reply with uncertainty,

“I don’t remember (or even know) how many times, but we’ve stopped going to the moon because it became too difficult for whatever reasons.”

Twilight is slack-jawed for a moment, but exclaims,

“But... the moon, for pony’s sake! Why stop?”

I excitedly reply with a chuckle, shrugging,

“I know, right?”

Author's Note

WHY DID WE STOP GOING TO THE MOON, FELLAS.

3 - How is this??

Twilight and I calmed down from the recent rantings of space and spaceships and Martians (There weren’t any Martians mentioned). Fluttershy seemed to be still thinking about the concept of something above the sky, as she stared out the window into the blue. She turns to me and asks,

“Are there animals in space?”

Now that’s a good question.

“Now that’s a good question. We haven’t a clue. There could be space whales or space octopi and we wouldn’t be able to see them with our instruments.”

Fluttershy’s eyes widen, then she looks out the window some more.

That makes me wonder if there really are life forms that can just float around in space. Probably not. Eh.

Twilight clears her throat, looks at her clipboard, and says,

“Right. Next question... how many are you where you come from?”

I reply flatly,

“Last I heard... there were around 7-8 billion of us.”

Another gasp from my audience.

“Which brings me to another point in my I’m no longer on my home planet theory. Where I come from, mankind has chartered every island, continent, mountaintop, valley, and plains on our world, and are probably living there. We ruled the earth. On top of the food chain. No other species could match what our accomplishments were.”

The ponies stared in awe. I don’t know if this is a good thing, but my tangent isn’t finished, so I continued.

“We are the only ones that we are aware of that was sapient (That was before I came here but...). We forged tools out of metals using fire that we use to protect and warm ourselves from the world (and each other’s greed). We built homes out of increasingly sturdier materials to last against the elements. We formed societies from scratch (some of which we had to topple). We invent increasingly potent medicines and often ponder philosophy and the meaning of existence. We’ve tried to explain it with something called religion. There are so many theories about our origins that I would talk to you for days and not even scratch the surface (Not that I know that much about general religion). We are pretty neat.”

I laid back, trying to think of something else. Twilight says,

“Well, the world here isn’t that hard to live in, so... wait. You were the only sapient race where you come from?”

“That we were aware of. We can’t exactly teach a dog to talk or chat it up with a lion.”

Furious scribbling can be heard from Twilight’s clipboard as she makes notes. Fluttershy just glances at us every once and a while, and then outside. I take this opportunity to prop myself up in bed to a position I feel is more suitable for someone with an audience, rather than someone who’s getting ready for sleep. Twilight then asks,

“What about friendship? Can you be good friends with each other?”

Now this was a question.

“Depends on who you talk to.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone has a unique opinion on things, even if it’s only a little difference. People can either be friendly or openly hostile based on their disposition on things. They may see you as a potential friend, or they could see you as an enemy to fight and to be destroyed, or they simply wouldn’t care and be about their day.”

The ponies seemed satisfied with the answer, and silence took hold in the room anew. Twilight stops writing and asks,

“How do humans deal with conflict? Do you fight at all?”

My nervous expression betrayed me, and Twilight pressed by asking again.

“There’s been innumerable wars between nations to the point where weapons were invented so terrible that we’ve scared ourselves into not having any more major wars.”

Fluttershy seemed shocked if her silent expression and still eyes were anything to go on. Twilight seemed fascinated. She asked,

“If you’ve fought each other so much that would require such weapons, why would they scare you? I mean, if a country, race, species has a history of violence, then it should be obvious that they should keep fighting. What did you humans make that would scare you so much?”

My face tried to remain blank as I said nervously, “Are you sure you want to know?”

Twilight froze, eyes going wide. She then nodded slowly. I slowly said, “Someone invented a bomb--”

Twilight cut in, saying, “I don’t think fireworks are that dangerous...”

“...which can by themselves destroy an entire metropolis and render the very air and land poisonous for a long time.”

Fluttershy and Twilight looked to Ponyville, and tried to imagine what would happen should such a weapon be used. Fluttershy half-whispered to me,

“That’s terrible.”

I wholeheartedly agreed, and said,

“That’s why we’re so scared of going to war on the same scale again. We might be tempted to use these weapons to destroy entire armies and enemy cities. That doesn’t mean that some nations are still gearing up for such a conflict where these weapons are employed.”

I sat back, having to sniff up snot.

Wait. I thought I felt fine.

I noticed this, and asked for a tissue, or a handkerchief. Fluttershy fetched a box of tissues, which I cleared my nose with, with a lot of noise. My mind started to reel, and my vision blurred. I kept blowing and blowing my nose, but I still felt bad. I raised my hand to my face to wipe my nose with a tissue, and that’s when I noticed the small red spots on my arm. Drowsiness darkened my vision, and a sudden weakness caused me to flop on my back, my consciousness going with Fluttershy anxiously uttering the words,

“Oh...’es …. ny pox.”

Great.

And all was dark.

...

...

A memory flashes across my mind. Someone saying,

“Hey, what’s that guy doing?”

It echoes a few times before fading.

...

...

My vision brightens up as I realize I am waking up, groggily. I also realize I’m in a pretty bad condition.

Pony Pox.

So it was a real thing. Who would've thunk it? Better open my eyes. To my (not)surprise, my vision was blurred and my other senses dulled.

Okay, one more time.

Bliegh.

I realized my throat was dry and my lips are parched.

I attempted to communicate, but all that came out was a wheeze. I looked around, and from what I could see, there was nobody(or pony sheesh) around.

I’m not going to let some pansy pony pox get the better of me.

Straining, I got up. Straining, I got on my feet.

I strained to take every step towards the brown horizontal thing I assumed was the door. I bumped into it, and touch confirmed it was the door.

I strained across the hallway and downstairs. I nearly fell several times.

I went to what I thought was the kitchen.

I saw a silver thing, then assumed it was the sink.

To my delight, it was. I groped for the tap and drank heartily from the faucet.

Now that I was full, I turned the tap off and made the agonizing journey back to the bedroom. I had to crawl up the stairs, and across the hallway. I barely managed to stand up to open the door. My last ounces of strength were used to plod along to the foot of the bed, and I fell down face-down onto it and passed out with a triumphant grin.

Got a drink like a boss.

4 - Who did this??

Sometime later, I insisted on staying on Fluttershy’s couch while she sleeps in her bed that night. I thought the couch would not be as comfortable as the bed and mentally braced myself.

I was wrong. The couch feels good. This won’t be too bad after all.

If it wasn’t for that darn pox.

The red spots were gone, but I still had a stuffy nose and blurred eyes. It did make my voice sound cooler, though. Doesn’t mean it’ll let me sleep, though.

I sighed.

My mind drifts everywhere and ponders on my very existence in this place. Questions flood my mind like water. Why am I here? How am I here? Did someone bring me for a purpose? Do I have a mission? Can I get back home? What’ll it take to get home? Is it actually possible I’ll be stuck in this sugarbowl for the rest of my life? What will my family think? Do they think I’m dead, or otherwise disappeared? Will I have to settle down here?

Oh, no...

Will I have to deal with a lovesick pony? How would I even...?

Before I got too far into that particular train of thought, though, the front door opened, letting in some light from the moon. A cloaked figure-- no, pony walked in, apparently looking for something. Something under the hood glowed, and the door closed, again flooding the room with darkness, aside from the moonlight that filtered through the drapes. I decided to have a little fun with the interloper.

“In the dark. My favorite.”

The pony seized up and looked frantically for me. In frantic search, however, the hood fell off, and I saw that it was none other than Lyra Heartstrings.

Or whatever her name is, but eh.

“You must not know who I am.”

I snuck off the couch and approached her, using the dark to cloak my advance.

“If you did...”

I made a silly face and outstretched my arms in a play-scare manner.

“...then you’d know what I can do to you.”

I entered the light filtering through the draped window. She finally saw me, and her jaw dropped.

“Boo.”

She ran off in a wordless scream. She nearly slammed the door in her hasty departure. I looked up the stairs, but when nothing came down to investigate, I settled down on the couch again, chuckling to myself. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but... eh. My mind’s not really in the right place right now.

I wonder what fried fish marinated in custard tastes like.

...

Nope. No.

That train of thought derailed, I went to sleep.

“...ood morn... epyhead.”

I woke up to see a smiling Fluttershy.

Man, that’s pretty.

...

Wait. That came out wrong.

Yeah.

Wait she’s talking to me better pay attention before she expects a response--

“—so how does that sound?”

Nuts.

I nervously smiled and nodded, hoping that it’ll come out okay.

“Good. Stay here, and I’ll go to the market for groceries.”

Oh. And there’s her saddlebags on her. Right.

“Okay, Fluttershy. By the way, you’re still best pony.”

She giggles then leaves.

Alone again... wait.

I listened for any signs of life. Suffice it to say, there wasn’t any.

Alone again.... naturally.

As I hummed the tune in my head, my eyes closed and I fell asleep.

Meanwhile, at Ponyville Market

Fluttershy was going through her monthly trip to the market. Haggling prices and making great deals, she enjoys being assertive with the shop owners now and again but remembers not to go overboard. She does not enjoy being that other Fluttershy.

She shakes herself from that thought and continues on her trip. Having checked off the last on her list, and with some extra bits from saving and haggling, Fluttershy decides to treat herself to a milkshake at one of the newer cafes that were becoming a trend.

“Welcome to Queen’s Dairy! How can I help you?”

Like this one. This place was run by cows, but they seem to cook everything in grease. A bovine in a little outfit had greeted Fluttershy and was awaiting her order.

“Yes, um. I’d like a vanilla shake.”

“That’ll be 4 bits, dear Fluttershy.”

She paid up, and moments later, she received a (disturbingly) fresh vanilla milkshake.

Fluttershy took a place at one of the outside tables, and began to enjoy her treat, when she was met by a certain unicorn.

“Fluttershy! Thank goodness you’re okay!”

Fluttershy looked up and saw someone she didn’t expect to meet but greeted her all the same.

“What’s the matter, Harpstrings?”

“There’s a big ol’ monster in your house! It stands 8 feet tall, breathes fire, and has claws that can rip through castles!”

Fluttershy raised an eyebrow at that but continues to drink. Being in Ponyville where mares panic at the drop of a hat does getting a little used to. Harpstrings continues.

“It can! It... it can shoot these weird little spikes from its head that can pierce through two Guardsponies! Its eyes stare into your very soul! Its booming voice can shake the very foundations of Canterlot! It—”

Harpstrings was interrupted by a yellow hoof as Fluttershy finished her drink. She puts down the now empty plastic cup and says,

“Didn’t I tell you not to snoop around my house?”

Harpstring’s eyes go wide, and she slowly nods. Fluttershy sighed, retracted her hoof, and says,

“What happened?”

Harpstrings grins nervously, then says,

“I thought I would take a look at that visitor of yours. Twilight made it sound too fascinating to pass up.”

Now, this was surprising to Fluttershy. She had dealt with the shenanigans with the more... panicky ponies, but she didn’t think that a minty-green unicorn lyre player would not have much to do with the violet librarian unicorn. The sensation of surprise passed, but Harpstrings continued.

“So I snuck in your house in the middle of the night.”

Fluttershy faked a surprised gasp and said,

“You snuck into my house without being invited in?”

Heartstrings became that much more uneasy since she did confess to sneaking into someone’s house in the middle of the night.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, but it really did scare me.”

Fluttershy sighed, then said,

“He is a very unfortunate creature to have caught the pony-pox. When you woke him in the middle of the night, he might’ve made some scary sounds in his dizziness.”

Fluttershy facehoofed, but calmed down enough to say,

“If you want, we could go visit him. Hopefully, he’ll be coherent.”

Harpstrings’ disposition instantly lifted, and she nodded vigorously, a goofy grin on her face. The two set off together and talked as they walked, getting to know each other better.

Meanwhile

zzzzz

Yeh spin meh roight round babeh roight round

zzzzz

Fluttershy and Harpstrings approached the door to the cottage, but it was only at the door did they realize something was wrong. Strange noises were coming from inside. Thumping and critter chanting could be heard. Fluttershy began to panic, and opened the door.

What lay inside was quite a sight. Fluttershy’s animals had a very disoriented, bound and gagged, and blindfolded Ty in a cauldron and were spinning him around with a giant mixing stick. Angel Bunny seemed to be the leader of the posse, including possums, other bunnies, and other assorted mammals who stood up to the “big, mean man”, as Angel would call Ty.

Ty was slightly out of it for the moment, but the way the animals were hounding him were sure to wake him up. Fluttershy did the only thing she thought of doing.

Pleading the animals to stop.

Whas goin on?

//Bootup initiated.
//Intercepted audio: Play?
>>y

“Now, now, there. No need to harm him... more.”

//Identified audio source: Fluttershy.
//ALERT: SITUATION UNUSUAL.
//CAUSE OF CONCERN: LACK OF VISIONARY FUNCTIONS, RESTRAINED MOVEMENT, MOUTH GAGGED.
//ALERT: SITUATION DANGEROUS
//AUDIO LOGS SUGGEST PHYSICAL INJURY TO PERSON
//PRELIMINARY SCANS INDICATE DANGEROUS SCENARIO
//DEFAULTING TO EMERGENCY PANIC MODE IN
//3
//2
//1.
>>objective: escape.

Ty seemed to quickly gain an understanding of his surroundings and start to flail about in panic. Fluttershy started to worry, as did Harpstrings. The cauldron fell over, spilling Ty out, and he busted out of his thin string restraints. Fluttershy had moved to calm down the rioting critters, and Harpstrings had moved to tend to Ty. She was the first thing Ty saw when he removed his dripping gag/blindfold.

I removed my blindfold after almost comically breaking the bindings, and I saw Lyra’s rather inquisitive face, and I yelped in surprise, causing her to also shout. I bolted to the door and made a getaway, snagging my hat from the hatrack as I did so.

The shock of the scenario came back in full force. I was running aimlessly and half-heartedly, and so I tripped and nearly busted my nose again.

Ow.

As I nursed my nose, a thought came to me.

This is real for me. My nose hurts again, I’m in Equestria, and some cartoon pastel ponies are chasing me.

As a follow-up on that last thought, I noticed that Fluttershy and Lyra(?) had indeed taken up the chase. As I wasn’t accustomed to this, I got on my feet again, and the chase from earlier in my adventures began anew. As I and my thoughts raced, I soon realized that the chasers from the earlier misadventure had been recast as my pursuers in the epic,
Ponies Chase Man 2: A Sequel

This is still too weird for me.

Author's Note

Just as weird as this

5 - What am I doing??

That particular chase ended abruptly when a certain purple unicorn got an idea and stopped me with magic. More like tripped up, but as long as it worked for them, I guess. That’s also how I sorta got paraded about Ponyville while handcuffed. Did I mention they have handcuffs here? You would think they would have something other than handcuffs, since, well, ponies. Speaking of which,

“I think I can break these cheap cuffs.”

“You can’t break those cuffs.”

I tried again for the umpteenth time to wrench freedom from the cuffs, but as usual, that came with nothing but a wasted effort and some stretched metal. Bah.

They walked me through the streets of Ponyville, and I expected to be gawked at, but other than a few raised eyebrows, they just went on with their day. Strange. I was led to the train station, where the group boarded a train.

...That is what you do at train stops.

I was told that Celestia requested my presence and that Twilight and her friends should bring me there. Bah, this is just going to be formalities, I think. In chains.

On second thought, this was going to be interesting. Oh well.

Our group (plus little-old-me) sat down and waited for the train to depart. We traded tense looks with each other. Annoyance, untrusting, and just plain frowns all around. Except for Pinkie Pie. She regarded me with a wave. I guess this is what happens when I keep freaking out.

With a lurch and a train whistle, the train began moving. Soon enough, the silence was broken by the train moving through the countryside. Pinkie Pie was now staring out the window, looking out to the countryside. She began to hum, a melody spun in the air.

My throat started to itch, but not in a coughing itch sense, which was weird. But then, Pinkie’s humming turned to full-blown music started to rise, along with the ponies around me breaking into the song. Rainbow Dash opened with,

“What I love most is the speed
as we race 'cross the plains, it's all that I need
We're so fast, that it's like we can fly,
as we ride on our train, you and I.”

I was already confused, but then Applejack joined in,

“What I love most is the field
see the plains that I love, it's almost unreal.
Here's the world in the blink of an eye
that we watch on our train, you and I.”

To my utter confusion, all the ponies joined in for the chorus.

“Here's our train going down the track
The world to our front, our homes to our back
On and on 'neath the blue, blue sky
Just our train carrying you and I.”

Twilight then sang, adding to the song,

“What I love most is the way
I can learn new things on the trip every day
All the sights I can see if I try
Watching out from our train, you and I.”

Everypony looked at me expectantly. What did they want me to-- no way. No way.

I gave them all a look.

The music continued to slow down, and the itch grew more severe. I just said plainly,

“I don’t sing. Especially not when there’s creepy music already playing coming from nowhere.”

With that, the music died completely, and the itch subsided. Huh.

Applejack looked at me like I was insane (not far from the truth, probably) and said,

“How come y’all didn’t want to join in on the song?”

I looked at her like she was insane, and replied,

“Because it’s freaky. Stuff like that just doesn’t happen.”

Thus began a glorious moment of awkward silence, unrivaled in duration and severity before or since. It would be a good record to keep, but nobody would want to be known as the guy who managed to sustain the longest awkward silence in history.

Well, at least I hope not... yeah somebody will want the title just for the sake of having a title. Or something.

The train ride progressed, as did the silence. Ponies occasionally looked thoughtfully at me or each other, trying to think of what the other thought of this singing development. They probably thought me of some social deviant. Let them think what they will.

“I just don’t feel like singing when I’m tied up like this.”

They all stared at me. Oh man, did I say that out loud? Twilight rubbed the back of her head and faked a laugh. I then feel my cuffs coming off. I checked up on my sore wrists, and I grimaced as I saw the chafed skin. I also noticed that the chain links on the cuff were stretched wide. Fluttershy seemed concerned, but I waved her off with an “I’m fine.” She still seemed concerned, her eyebrows furrowed in empathy. She seemed slightly annoyed but saddened at the same time because I refused to have her look at me. Is there even a word for that?

It’ll wait. She noticed I was staring at her. Must avoid eye contact... must avoid eye contact... Gah, I saw her looking at me.

“Ty, are you okay? You seem nervous.”

I regarded Fluttershy with a fake smile and said truthfully, “No, of course not. I’m still in a state of shock.”

Fluttershy said, “Oh. Hopefully, you’ll get better soon. It’s not good to be constantly baffled by the world around you.”

I automatically answered, “That’s extremely insightful of you, Fluttershy. I guess I’ll just roll with the punches now.”

Another awkward silence followed, broken by Twilight, who asked,

“So how well do you adapt to change?”

I regarded Twilight with a sour look. I said,

“Well enough for changes of a mild nature. Changes of this magnitude tend to make anyone jumpy.”

A hoof poked me in the side, and I jumped out of my chair. I looked to a laughing Rainbow Dash and gave her an evil eye. I poked her in the belly, and my finger sunk in a little. It was then my turn to laugh as Rainbow Dash squirmed. I said to her in a teasing voice,

“You know, you’re pretty soft.”

Rainbow Dash squirmed some more and buried her face in her hooves. Sitting back down, I rested my head against the seat. The silence regained control of the train car as Rainbow Dash finally settled down with a quiet, “Not soft. Just poofy.”

The train whistle finally sounded, signaling our arrival at the Canterlot train station. At last.

Soon enough, I was being herded through the city called Canterlot.

...Heh. Herded.

It seemed nice enough, but I was likely being ignored by the populace as they pointed their collective nose in the air. One might wonder how they saw ahead of them if they had their eyes closed.

Nevermind. I just saw a guy walk into a pole. Halfwit.

Nevertheless, I saw that this city was indeed a marvelous thing. Cobbled streets ran this way and that, and while I was no architect, I could see that they had painstakingly built these structures to their aesthetic limits. I mean, what other reason would you have to build these fragile-looking structures on the side of a mountain?

I mean, this also indicated to me that these ponies know nothing but peace and tranquility. There was no need for fortified structures other than the castle, so there was none. Still, how long would a nation be at peace until it became a good idea to build on a side of a mountain? Still, it could simply be attributed to it being a very cartoon world. I could attribute a lot of the anomalies in this environment to just saying, Oh, it’s just a cartoon world. Stop questioning it. Anomalies like the ponies being able to use their hooves like a giant thumb, or the fact that the pegasi did not follow standard aviation rules. I mean, how?!

Anyways, the trip concluded with the group and me walking up to the castle gate. Pretty cool place, even if it was a bit flashy.

We passed the guards without any difficulty and were walking down the marble halls to... somewhere, I suppose. I guess I should’ve been listening to the ponies discussing pleasantries with each other, but I was too deep within my own thoughts.

Thoughts like, Am I really doing this or is this just insanity and What am I to do popped up, as did Am I expected to be some hero and What does little old me have to do with anything in all this? Ahem. We were there.

There meaning the throne room, of course. I saw Princess Celestia and Luna in their thrones, and...

Discord, hovering above and reclining on a pink cloud?

“Okay. This just got weird.”

I just said that out loud again, didn’t I?

Discord giggled to himself in that John De Lancie voice, and the Princesses just sat there with slight smiles on their faces. I know that’s supposed to be comforting, but that unshakable facade is really creepy.

I shivered slightly. We approached the throne, and Celestia addressed me.

“Greetings, Ty. How has your time here been so far?”

I bluntly answered, “Eh. Still weird being displaced to a place once thought fictional.”

The ponies gave me weird looks, but Discord and the Princesses gave me knowing looks. Oh, man, the implications.

Celestia spoke again, with that regal freaking voice of hers, “Do you know why you’re here, Ty?”

They knew something. I folded my arms, and said, “Something tells me that you’re about to tell me that very thing.”

Celestia sighed and turned upwards to a reclining Discord. He sighed, then said,

“Ty, I know you humans are nothing short of magnificent. Do you know why I say that?”

I didn’t say anything, but he continued.

“I say that because while I’ve been playing catch up on the events of not only this world, but the surrounding worlds, I’ve noticed something about the human race while I was gone.”

Discord lowered the cloud, and he jumped off.

“While humanity had little more than sticks, stones, and bricks the last time I gazed on your world before I was set in stone, I was in for quite a surprise when I saw your little world again when I reformed.”

He walked closer, almost going eye-to-eye with me.

“You had changed so much. Humanity had done nothing short of conquering their world. Nothing on that planet escaped the gaze or influence of you humans. The mastery of which you so very thoroughly asserted your control over the various sciences and philosophies are almost, as some of you would say, god-tier.”

Discord then motioned to the castle.

“We haven’t even widespread use of the internal combustion engines and yet you humans are actively seeking out how to do teleportation without magic.”

Twilight gasped from somewhere behind me, yet Discord continued.

“I then turned my attention to the continent called Freytara. Nice place, filled with Griffons, Horses, Diamond Dogs, Dragons, Ponies, and the like. So I thought, ‘Why should there be so many countries over there? Why can’t they have unity? And Celestia said...”

Discord gestured to Celestia with both hands, and Celestia said,

“Because the various races are all too untrusting and the various empires already existing can’t really expand without everyone else ganging up on them and restoring the status quo.”

Discord then snapped his fingers and said, “So I asked her, ‘What if we bring in someone whose race has a heritage of conquest and unity?’, but then she says...”

Celestia again sighs, and then says, “Because that’s too risky, and not any one human could do the task.”

Discord snickers, then say, “Then I showed her all the humans in history who almost single-handedly conquered and even others who united vast territories. Alexander, Gaius Julius, and Napoleon all share a common trait that all humans can take advantage of.”

Discord then leaned over, right up to my face, and almost whispered,

“That trait is that you’re humans. It’s almost your collective special talent to be exemplary at efforts you put your minds and your hearts and your efforts to. Plus, you’re so wonderfully chaotic when you want to be. I’ve never seen anything so self-conflicting or hypocritical at times. Mind me, you’re one of the milder humans.”

I blinked, and Discord backed off. So I ask, “What do you want from me, then?”

Celestia stated, “We want you to unite Freytara under a single banner.”

6 - Well, okay then!

“G-give me a minute. M-maybe some space.”

Celestia smiled down at me and asked a guard to show me to an empty room. He did so, and in there I gathered my thoughts.

Oh, man. What have I gotten myself into?

I reflected on the bit where I had introduced myself as Tyrannosaurus Tux of all things. Better just call myself Ty, then.

What was my name?

Every time I tried to think of it, it either defaulted to that silly-willy persona I invented or my brain hurt. Another thing that was a brainwhacker was the bit where I was basically asked to be nothing less than Alexander the Great or somesuch.

Whatever. Might as well help them out. I can always just back out.

I held up a finger, and said, “I will accept on several conditions.”

Looking steadfastly at me, Celestia replied, “Name them.”

I turned bodily towards the Princesses (and friend?) and asked, “One: I want to be able to back out at any time. Two: Once this mission is accomplished, I want to be returned home at the time of my disappearance. You ponies could surely pull that off.”

Then Celestia did something that I really wasn’t expecting. She broke her calm demeanor and glanced around nervously, uttering an “um...”

Grimacing, I asked, “What do you mean, 'um’?”

Celestia gave a throaty sigh and clarified, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

A binge of panic and frustration shot through me. It was almost mirrored by the other ponies there, and I asked, “Well, why not?”

Celestia tapped her front left hoof to the tile for a few moments, and said, “How do I put this lightly... you aren’t you think you are.”

I blinked, and then pleaded, “... Wha?”

“To use a comparison to your culture, you are to who you thought you were as Boba Fett was to Jango Fett.”

Several maddening questions pressed on my mind in the same instance as connections were quickly made.

I’m a clone?? How does she know about Star Wars?? Guys, am I a clone?? Has she been spying on me and my friends?! Guys, am I a clone!?!

Guys, she knows about Star Wars! Is this the real life?! Is this just fantasy?!

By the time I realized what I was doing, I had been on my knees screaming and clutching my head like it was about to explode for quite a while. I quickly composed myself as best I could, then stood. Everypony seemed frightened. I guess they had a good reason to be. This all seemed so unreal. A new question pressed against my mind, unrelenting until its addressing.

I guessed, “Wait, what about my soul? Is it a carbon...err...ectoplasmic copy of my... template? ”

Without missing a beat, Celestia relayed, “This requires a little bit of explanation. Come ‘round, my little ponies, and I shall explain.”

We all dumbly arranged ourselves in a circle around Celestia. Even the guards were in on this impromptu lesson.

Celestia began, “As you may have already gleaned just now, you’re not in your original dimension anymore. A multiverse is a funny place, where the walls can be impenetrable in one section and paper-thin in other sections.”

Discord popped beside Celestia for a moment, and she gestured to him, continuing, “We had designs to bring peace to Freytara, but we hadn’t anyone who would qualify here in Equestria to do this.”

She looked around to her little ponies, and said, “No offense.”

She then resumed her tale by articulating, “We scoured the multiverse for the ideal leader that we hoped would best fit the situation. We found such a man, and then we looked through the multiverse for an ideal ‘you’ that would fit the bill even better. Needless to say, we found the one. One problem, though. We couldn’t simply enlist his aid without breaking a few multiverse rules. One of which being that the masters of a dimension could uphold a strict no-interference policy with his creations if they so desired. We petitioned the master of ‘your’ dimension, and it was granted that we could imprint the soul into the template; this is where you come in.”

All heads turned towards me, as I was silent in my processing of this information.

“I’m sorry if you are afraid. Discord and I would understand if you wouldn’t want to take on this endeavor...”

I raised my hand, waited for Celestia to pause, then said, “I’m the chosen one?”

Celestia nodded.

Sheesh. They went through all that just to produce... me?

I looked into Celestia’s eyes, whose warmth threatened to melt my icy heart, as if anything could.

Wait, so because I’ve been chosen and this... body was created for this, does that make Celestia and Discord my parents?

I looked to them both, unreadable in their expressions.

Nah. I’m still a man, and besides... I don’t ship it. Heh.

“Okay, then,” I said with a laugh. “If I’m to fulfill this quest, I’d better get started!”
I then walked out, laughing like a madman.

I kept walking down the halls of the Canterlot castle, my laughter growing louder and deeper at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

It got so bad that I started to cough from the sheer exertion of my laughter. Even if all that she had said was true, there’s no way I could believe it. Though, I’d always wanted to be a hero... or a conqueror...

If she was making enough things up for me to stay here, then I guessed I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Yeah, I could totally do it, and introduce some nice human stuff in the process.

Like democracy. Or bacon. That’ll shake them up.

I laughed some more, tension easing away. I laughed even harder realizing that they hadn’t the foresight to make me into something more familiar to this world.

I bet they’re regretting that already, heh. Well, not regretting it as much as grinning and bearing it. I bet Discord talked her into letting me retain my humanity, in order to make a unique figurehead for Freytara to follow.

This made me laugh again, but that last thought struck me again.

Being unique as I am here would definitely help cement my possible rule if I should choose to do so. Too bad I believe in the power of the people. I’ll have to teach them democracy after I unite them. That seems easy.

One trip later...

Hey, this was easy.

After agreeing to do the Freytaran unification thing, I was sent on my merry way via airship. I immediately decided to go to the far side of the continent, seeing as there were just a bunch of tiny, probably despotic states for me to take over and begin my annexation. Before leaving, though, I gave my admittedly silly trilby hat to Rainbow Dash. Looked better on her, anyway.

By the look of things, I was probably going to be wearing a crown soon, anyway. Not that I had anything against crowns, but I suspected that would be detrimental to my efforts of democracy somewhat. After landing and bidding the plucky airship captain farewell, I walked into the first tribal village I could. The sign said this place was called “Adher”. I remembered from skimming the map I realized I left on the airship that the place was populated primarily by diamond dogs.

They’ll do for a starter pack. ...Heh. Pack.

I walked around until I found the biggest, meanest, nastiest dog I could find, then asked, “Who’s in charge here?”

The dog seemed insulted, and he pointed to himself. Without a proper plan for this big of a dog, I determined that I must gain power here by intimidation.

So I slapped him. Then I asked, “No, no, no no. Who’s in charge here?”

The dog seemed confused, and he said, “I am, and my name Bigpaw.”

I slapped him a second time, the sound carrying throughout the little village. A crowd had started to gather. I then said while the dog held his face, “I don’t think that’s particularly the case anymore. Now. Let me ask again: who is in charge here?”

Bigpaw barked defiantly, “I am!”

Bigpaw then swung his big... well... paws at me. Then I surprised myself again by not only deftly dodging them like a proper Pinkie Pie, but also by socking him in the nose, knocking him on his butt. I then said,

“Not anymore, pal. Name’s Ty, and I’m in charge.”

Bigpaw sniffed twice, then scowled, cradling his nose, “Fide, fide, bud don hid me agaib.”

I must’ve punched him harder than I first anticipated. Huh. I was expecting a bigger fight than this. Heh. This was easy mode after all. I could rule this place, then bring others into the fold. First, I needed to get these dogs to work. I leaned over Bigpaw and said, “Excellent. Let’s get started. Get everyone here.”

Confused, Big Paw asked, “Whab?”

I then shouted, “Everyone! I have something to say!”

A half-hour later, and the surprisingly sizable town had gathered before me, waiting on their new boss’s instructions. They probably expected some new reign of terror or something. Well... I guess they were in for a surprise.

“Hello, everyone. I am Ty, your new boss. I’m going to whip this town into shape and start building ourselves an empire,” declared I, at the start of our new empire.

Well, they expected the empire bit, that’s for certain.

“We are going to work and work hard. I ask this not with a whip in hand, but with a gemstone in my hand. As you are all now my subjects, you are now under my protection, which can range from foreign armies to dragons and other such things. But before we get properly started, let’s get some more towns under the banner I will raise. Before now, this continent was called Freytara, the divided continent. No longer! As your new boss, I will make your bellies full and your burdens light. As your new boss, I will show you the freedom you’ve only previously dreamed of. I will organize your lot into an unstoppable marching machine, the likes the world has never seen. I tell you this not because I seek to flatter you with lying words to bring you into bondage under my iron fist, but I tell you this because I will make it so! Now let us cheer for our future!”

I literally did not expect the dogs to cheer. I mean, I hoped they would, but I thought it would take a little more time to win them over. This was just dandy. I instructed them to start constructing a capital, to which they were happy to oblige. Time to play Sim Cities.

Okay, so I never played Sim Cities.

I then ordered the construction of steel foundries. With a bit of luck and direction on my part, we could start becoming hecka competitive around here. I learned of a nearby stream, to which I ordered a mill to be constructed to make things. I would need clothes of my own to wear, as well as make trade goods... once I had the means and materials to make clothing. On that note, I ordered the dogs to clear the fields between the hills surrounding the village, making way for future agriculture. I didn’t quite order the dogs to till the land yet, seeing as I knew of earth ponies around here that would be much better suited to doing just that. I thought of other projects I could do. I ordered that the cobble produced by gem mining be used in road-making. I liked roads. Roads seemed to work well for the Romans.

I knew I wasn’t wasting my time studying history and playing strategy games.

7 - Here I go!

Okay, not so easy.

I was looking at my phone, looking over Wikipedia pages of metallurgy and tech. Turns out I could connect to the internet back... on my template’s earth. It's still so strange. I remembered much about it from my various musings on the internet, but it’s nice to have a refresher. Turns out that first I needed ore. Who knew, right?

I looked to my left and regarded the growing pile of rocks and various ores.

Check.

Next, I needed a blacksmithy. The former tribe here used to have an adequate blacksmithing site for all their needs, but I decided I’d have to upscale it.

Another problem was workforce. Don’t get me wrong, I’d learned to respect and like the heck outta the mutts, but I needed more than just strong arms and backs. I called up a mental image of the immediate area on Freytara.

I remember there being a pony city here, as well as a minotaur/griffin trade site. Fast wings and even more strong arms and backs I could be adding. Which reminds me, I still need a flag.

I pocketed my phone and walked up to Bigpaw. He’d seemed to warm up to me after I had a lapse of logic and bullied my way to power. Turned out he was just the least pansy out of all of them. It was almost as if they needed a guy with the confidence to lead them. Heh. I could trust them for the time being.

I walked out of Town Doge (I need to convince the dogs to change the town name) towards the pony town called Bronzehoof. Yes, quite quaint. Hopefully, it would mean that there were some neat pony metallurgists here, too.

I mean, after the first few times I tried my hand at metalworking and kept accidently making flawless swords after the first few hammer strikes and consequent shower of sparks, I decided it was time to more or less ditch conventional metallurgy theory and learn more about how metallurgy works here. I was pretty sure swords weren’t made from only a few hammer strikes, but this was cartoon land, after all. I was also sure they weren’t supposed to look polished, either, especially when I hadn’t actually polished them.

I stopped at the outskirts and looked into the town.

...Huh. This looks like a transplanted Ponyville.

Sure enough, the thatched roof houses and dirt paths were eerily similar to that of Ponyville. The ponies gave me several glances here and there, but generally, they went on about their day. I walked a while before realizing I had no idea where to go, so I asked a passing pony, “Do you happen to know where the nearest blacksmith is?”

The teal pony pointed a hoof down the street, and there, sure enough, was a cobblestone building with a giant bronze horseshoe on it.

“Oh, thank you.”

The pony barely regarded me, so I went on my merry way, feeling rather stupid. As I neared, I heard the sound of a hammer to anvil. A very good sign, indeed. I entered and found an aged bronze and brown-colored unicorn hard at work on... something. Eh. Not really the reason I was there.

He had noticed me, so he asked, “Can I get ye something, stranger?”

I walked up to him and said, “Knowledge of the inner workings of metallurgy.”

I then leaned in close to his face and grinned.

“All of it.”

5 hours later...

“And I’ll be sure to send along some carts with enough ore to last you several years. Thanks,” I promised.

Walking out of the blacksmith, I looked for the town hall to begin my takeover. I found the tallest building that looked like a recolored Ponyville Town Hall, so I made that my destination. I was now beginning to suspect the ponies had cookie cutter architecture schools. Anyway, I had to remember my whole takeover plan as I walked in. I saw a grey-tan earth pony stallion at the desk, going over his files. He looked up and asked, “Yes?”

I placed my hands on his desk and asked, “Who’s the sovereign here?”

The pony tilted his head to the side and replied, “...Me?”

I rolled my eyes and ask, “What’s the name of the nation here?”

The pony looked around, then said, “Bronze...hoof?”

I told the completely gender-reversed Mayor Mare, “Figures. I have a little proposition for you.”

I now had the stallion’s full attention, but he was growing nervous, so I said,

“This town can become a part of the rising Freytaran Empire. You’ll remain in charge of this town, but you’ll answer to me. I’m not going to impose a tribute on you, but I’m not stopping you from helping our little endeavor. In return, I’ll help you turn this town from almost a mirror of Ponyville to a bustling metropolis that is unrivaled even by Manehatten or Las Pegasus. Your name will become synonymous with success. What say you?”

Somehow, that won him over. Must have been the cartoon nature of this world. Or because I was the only human I got more awesomeness than if there were 20 or 2,000 of us. Hey, a lot of things in this place had been like this so far. I was just going to roll with it.

We shook on it, and I was on my merry way.

Now for that trade hub. That didn't take long, seeing as it was just outside the town hall.

...

Look at all the things here...

Boss Ty said not to worry about Boss Ty but now I sometimes worry about Boss Ty.

Sorry, Boss Ty.

After coming back from the pony town, Boss Ty’s been in the forge, which Boss Ty’s renamed “Vulcan’s Forge.”

I don’t get it.

I thought he was called Ty. Boss Ty said that Ty was short for something, but Boss Ty didn’t say.

Anyways, Ty has shut himself in the forge and it has been spewing smoke ever since. We only ever see Ty if he wants some more materials.

Hope he’s been feeding alright.

Wait, there’s been a loud bang at Vulcan’s Forge.

Better see if he’s alright.

I will never experiment with magnesium and ammonium perchlorate again.

As I staggered out of Vulcan’s forge, cradling my face, Bigpaw came up to me and said something. Unfortunately, I could only hear a painful ringing noise at the moment. Bigpaw said something again, and I shouted, “My ears! I can’t hear! What?!”

Bigpaw scurried off and brought several other nurse dogs (where did they get those little ratty nurse outfits?), who wasted no time in looking me over. I sat down so as to make their task easier. As they fretted over me, my sense of hearing returned.

“Boss Ty! Boss Ty! Are you alright!” worried Big Paw.

I then shrieked, “Stop shouting! I'm fine!”

All the dogs recoiled. I sighed, “I’m sorry. I just messed up an experiment that nearly blinded me and made me deaf. That sucked.”

Bigpaw dismissed the nurses and said, “Boss, uh, we’ve got company.”

Blinking, I puzzled, “Huh? Oh. Take me to him.”

Fidgeting with his paws, Bigpaw elaborated, “It’s... uh, more of a they, boss.”

“...What happened while I was mucking about?” asked I.

Getting onto all fours, Pigpaw signaled after himself and said, “Follow me!”

I sighed again and followed Bigpaw. Soon enough, I saw battered and tattered pony refugees... what?

A voice cried out, “T-Ty!”

Mayor Bronzehoof ran up to me and bowed.

“I-I require your help!” he mumbled.

I looked around at all the expectant ponies and dogs and blinked. I knelt down and pulled up Bronzehoof’s gaze to meet mine. I asked, “What happened?”

With wide, bronze eyes, Bronzehoof said in a panic, “Th- The bandits! They came out of nowhere!”

Oh, boy.

I stood up and addressed everybody.

“The bandits might still be around! Join with us and we may bring these bandits to imperial justice!”

Okay, that was a bit much. Still, it had the desired effect. I went back into Vulcan’s Forge and got my swords, which I treated and retreated, as per the so-called “advanced” metallurgy techniques of this world. It also helped that techniques from my template’s world still applied here.

That’s right.

I had two Ulfberht swords.

I had also made some plate armor. Due to this world using the weird logic that it does, it was easy. I even padded the thing. Huzzah for my internet availability!

Oh, I’d also made lots of other stuff for testing the various logics of this world compared to the logic of my template’s world. Thankfully, most of the crafting logic was similar to that of my template’s earth, if just a bit simplified. It seemed a bit silly, but I shouldn’t complain. It was when the accidental products of my experimentation were distributed to the militia (which still impressed them as if I had master-crafted them) when I heard some horns in the distance.

I freaking knew it.

Action sequence time!

I stood outside of town, wearing the ramshackle plate armor I experimented with and cloth padding for the joints. I may not have quite looked the part yet, but I’d probably get the chance to look like something from medieval Europe or something later.

Oh, here they come. Oh, crap. They’re minotaurs, and huge. Looks like the biggest one’s in charge. What’s he reaching for... oh, that’s a big sword.

The big guy trumpeted, "I am Bullheart! Are you the one they call Ty?”

Macho Madness, much?

I responded by shouting, “I’m Ty, yeah. What’s it to you?”

The minotaur bulls laughed.

Bullheart mocked, “You look like a gangly little calf. Ha! This should be easy. Hand over those fancy things of yours.”

I sighed.

Bullheart then screamed, “Did you not hear me?!”

Did I just sigh out loud?

I dismissively waved a hand and said, “I heard you. Why should I hand over my things?”

Pounding his cloven feet into the ground, Bullheart roared, “Don’t you get it? I could pound you into dust!”

Looks to be that you probably could.

Hiding my shaking hands, I swung my swords and cried out, “Well, then. Let’s spice this up. I challenge you to a duel!”

The bulls laughed again.

Himself laughing, Bullheart proudly and loudly dared, “Okay, little calf. Let’s have some fun!”

Okay, okay this was stupid. I immediately regret this decision.

I drew both of my new swords and concentrated. My people needed me. They stood behind me, shaking in place. Bullheart and I charged at each other. He swung his sword, and I swung my swords at his.

A loud clang sounded in the air!

That’s odd. It’s almost as if...

I looked, and his sword was in pieces. I looked up from the pieces on the grass and looked at Bullheart, who was holding what remained of his sword. I recovered from my shock faster by laughing. I laughed long and hard. I held both my swords up, and I got a big ol’ maniacal smile on my face.

The bandits fled. I gave chase for a while. When I couldn’t see their fleeing forms anymore, I returned to Doge town. The militia stood frozen as I walked through them. I saw Bronze Hoof with wonder on his face. I patted him on the head and said, “What a rush, huh?”

I laughed again. Slowly the crowd around me started to chuckle too.

After the shock wore off, I felt slightly lightheaded... then I fell over.

8 - ...Where did all these guys come from?

Ah, such a wonderful morning.

I had just woken up, refreshed myself, and gotten myself out of my cozy little domicile/workplace so I could take in the scenery.

The air was fresh, but it also carried the sounds of a building city. Dogs pulled minecarts around filled with various materials. Ponies were working hard to build thatched roof homes, with pegasi, earth ponies, and unicorns all pitching in to raise framework. Griffons flew overhead carrying various work-related items, and they were hard at work building their own dwellings, as were minotaurs, who heaved under the morning sun.

Wait... what?

Someone greeted me with an "Ah, good morning, Sir Ty!"

I looked up and saw Mayor Bronzehoof approaching me with a smile on his muzzle, which he held high. He then said, "How are you today, sir?"

I must've looked flabbergasted, because he then asked, "You feeling alright?"

I bit my lower lip, arched an eyebrow, looked around some more, and then wondered aloud, "Where did everybody come from? For that matter, why are you still here? Aren't you still Mayor of Bronzehoof?"

He rubbed the back of his neck (the impossibility of the feat made me cringe inwardly) and said shyly, "Well, word travels fast of the creature that broke the sword of Bandit-Chief Bullheart!"

I looked at him incredulously and said, "Don't tell me it's supposed to be all caps."

He then looked at me incredulously and replied, "...What?"

I waved that thought off, and then I told him, "Nevermind. Go on."

He became cheery again and beamed, "Well, all these weary travelers stopped by our little town, and they decided they like it here."

I scratched the back of my head and wondered, "That doesn't explain why you're here."

He looked downtrodden for a moment, and reported, "The Bandit-Chief was very thorough."

I pursed my lips and said, "Ooh. Sorry about that."

He perked back up, and sputtered, "B-but now that you're here, S-Sir..."

I looked up and saw none other than Bullheart along with several other minotaurs carrying lumber. I pointed him out, then said to Bronzehoof, "That's him right there, isn't it?"

Bronzey looked and saw the guy, and then he just said, "I don't think so. Why would he come back here again?"

I told him, "No, see? He's just not wearing his armor."

"Oh."

I recognized what was about to happen, so I tucked my left arm under Bronze's bronze forelegs, hoisted him up to my eye level, then, with my other hand, I clamped his mouth shut as he was sucking in a breath to shout out something, then swiveled on my feet and walked into Vulcan's Forge. Kicking in the door, I told Bronze-scared-hoof, "Calm down. He's here without his armor and his weapon... well, I broke his toy already, hah!"

Bronzehoof still squirmed in my grasp, so I said, "Look, if he was here to infiltrate the city, he's already failed. He's about as subtle as a bull in a china shop."

He finally relaxed in my grip, at which point I dropped him, and he fell to the floor, limp and unconscious.

Oh.

I checked his condition, then I moved him into a slightly less undignified pose on a bench I was just sleeping on. I didn't bother to pull my blanket over him.

Walking outside, I lost sight of Bullheart, so I walked in the direction he was traveling. I looked around and saw not a single idle person around. The noise made from the work being done was kind of loud, but I didn't mind the racket. It was kinda nice, actually. All the buildings going up, all the businesses starting. And to think it was my doing. I stopped for a second to really ponder that thought.

It couldn't really have been all my doing... could it?

Whatever my theory on the matter, the folk just keep coming, the buildings kept going up, and I was just standing in the middle of the sawdust, thinking.

Wait, what was I doing?

I looked over and saw Bullheart nailing... boards or something. I don't know. I walked up to him and said, "Hey, you."

Bullheart took sight of me and froze. And I mean froze. The very model of a deer in headlights. I almost laughed. Almost. But with no small amount of mirth, I asked, "What's your name?"

"Uh..." he murmured.

I took that as a chance to shout, with a giant shenanigan-causing grin, "Oh, it's Bullheart, isn't it?"

And then everything stopped. Stopped cold. Hammers were paused mid-swing, everyone was staring. It was awesome.

I then dropped my smile and ordered, "Come with me."

Like a Calf being scolded by his Udder... I mean Mother, Bull-hunched-over followed me back to Vulcan's Forge. Our footfalls were the only thing breaking the silence. Finally, we walked into the cramped space, and I slammed the door, waking Bronze-snore with a start. He smacked his lips, saw Bull-humbled, and he moved to scream before I pinned him to the wall, being sure not to suffocate him a second time. I said, "See? I'm learning. I don't always accidentally choke out people."

I looked behind me; Bull-frightened looked ready to bolt. I flashed him my sharp teeth in a grin, and told him, "Long story."

I dropped him, and as Bronzehoof caught his breath, I giggled, "I'm in complete control of this. Don't worry."

I turned around, saw Bull-about-to-have-a-heart-attack eying my Ulfberhts, a contemplative hand on his chin, and joked, "Hey. My face is here. Stop looking at my junk."

I was pretty sure that he might have been able to overpower me at this juncture, maybe, but he didn't know that, so I had his undivided attention. I questioned, "Okay. Why did you come back?"

It was at that time he broke down and started sobbing, his big form hunched over onto the ground.

Well, I certainly didn't expect that.

I opened my mouth to say something, but Bull-tears started talking again, in a broken up, teary voice.

"You-hoo-hoo bro-hooke my-hi-hi swo-ho-ho-hord," he blubbered.

He took a moment to half-compose himself, then explained,

"I paid over 500 bits for that sword."

Before he could continue, I cut him off by blurting, "Wait, what?"

He went further, saying "It was a creation from a master smithy. Granted, he was a little... shorter... than the descriptions of him tell, but..."

I doubled over in laughter. I took a moment to compose myself, then I said, "Sorry, dude. You just got scammed."

Bull-heart-broken just stuttered, pointing at nowhere and everywhere, and I said, "That sword was made from... what, pig iron or something? That is to say, the quality of the steel used in that blade is so poor that it's almost not steel. The reason your legendary blacksmith was shorter than he should've been was because he was a hack. A fake. A phony. Just as much as your big sword was."

Bullheart then gave off a roar that was part fury and part mourning for his purse. And his pride. And his reputation as Bandit-Chief. He broke down again and just sat on the floor, crying his namesake out. Bronzehoof stood next to me, just as puzzled as I was. I muttered to myself, "Jeez. He really needs a hug."

Apparently, I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was. Bronzehoof just gave me a look, and I shrugged my shoulders. He sighed and went over to hold the still-rather-intimidating minotaur that dwarfed the earth pony. The minotaur then turned in Bronzehug's grasp and returned the gesture. It was between sobs that I learned Bullheart's tale.

Before Bullheart was Bandit-Chief Bullheart, he was just Bandit Bullheart. The life of a bandit was not an easy one if not one that was chosen because of the fact that apparently minotaur cows like tales of adventure or something.

He had saved enough from his work to finally afford a greatsword to challenge the hierarchy of the Banditry, as a bull worthy of his horns is wont to do. With his bullheadedness and a sword that made others envious, Bullheart eased up the ranks with a significant, signature lack of bloodshed because he was just that intimidating. Seriously.

He was having a grand ol’ time when he heard about some creature who took over some Diamond Dog slums that wasn't quite a diamond dog, or a minotaur, or a griffon, or even a pony. The cocky bandit warlord decided to pay a visit to the new kid in town.

Look how well that turned out for him.

I stopped reflecting on Bullheart's story as he realized that he and Bronzehoof had let go of each other and were looking at me with dried tears on their faces.

I asked, "...What?"

Bronzehoof then asked me, "What do you mean, 'What'?"

"Well, what do you expect me to do?" I mused.

"Determine his fate," explained Bronzehoof with big eyes looking up at me.

"Oh, because..." I realized, "he's at my complete mercy, yeah."

I looked at the broken Minotaur before me. Such a massive specimen. Tan with a red tint, he certainly was a sight to behold. Or he would have been if he wasn't such in a miserable state.

Hoo boy. Guess I gotta be the wise guy. I rolled my neck, causing it to pop a few times.

I mean, I don't hate the guy, but they almost expect me to.

What to do... hmm.

Ooh. That might work.

I lifted up Bullheart's chin, looked him in his defeated eyes, and said, "Hey. You made a pretty good bandit chief."

I grinned, and proposed, “How'd you like to be a Captain?"

Author's Note

Pig iron

Pig iron

He tried to match Freytara's master using the pig iron in his hands

Pig iron in his haaaands

9 - A turn of events

I commanded, “Alright, listen up.”

Many minotaur ex-bandits stood in a line. I stood in front of them, dwarfed by them all. We were standing in a clearing outside town, which I’d decided should be my new barracks. I called one of them out.

“You there. Step forward,” I instructed.

The selected minotaur, a grey one with particularly sharp horns, stiffened and stepped out of line. I walked up to him, looked up into his fearful face, and said, “What’re your credentials?”

The bull braved to glance down at me and uttered, “Uh...”

I held my hands behind my back and said, “You know. What’s your history?”

The grey thing replied, “Oh. Uh, I was... a bandit for many years.”

I quickly announced, “You’re all pardoned.”

Every bull looked at each other, wondering if I had lost my mind. Perhaps I had, a few weeks ago when I was brought here... and was born... essentially.

I held up a finger.

“On one condition," I elaborated. "You all work for me now. This isn’t the banditry camp where your pay was how well you raided. Your pay is set, as is your new life. You’ve all volunteered to be the new Freytaran Guard. You are now the militia of this city.”

I started walking up and down the line, watching as the bulls tried to stand up straighter than they already were. The heavy smell of grass was in the air.

“This won’t be the militia you’ve probably faced in your plunderous adventures. You will not be poorly armed and armored. Show them, Autumn.”

I turned around, and an autumn-colored earth pony pulled the covers off of a cart that had been brought to the clearing. Sitting therein was some of the work I had just done for Captain Bullheart. Gleaming in the sun, it was my proudest creation yet. It was a set of plate armor, articulate and complex, made for a minotaur. It practically stood like an iron golem, with only its occupant missing. Resting on it was a minotaur-sized sword, easily outclassing the one that Bullheart had used against me. I looked back to the awestruck rag-tag bulls of my militia.

“My people have had a ten-thousand-year legacy of excellent craftsmanship. We started with bronze, made our way to iron and steel, and our works only continue to get more impressive back in my homeland. This armor is something my people perfected a thousand years ago.
Now we build great flying machines out of the precious metal aluminum which propels itself through the sky on great fire-spitting engines. This armor and weapon are yours...”

Autumn took the cue and threw the covers back on the set of equipment.

“..If you can prove yourself worthy of holding them. You up for it?” I challenged.

The bulls roared their acceptance of my challenge.

This was going to be fun.

He made us run miles until our legs were unsteady.

He made us do pushups until our arms tired.

He made us do pull-ups until our shoulders and elbows hurt.

He made us do crunches until our bellies ached.

He made us spar with weighted wooden swords until we sported many bruises.

He made us study a human document called The Art of War until our minds were fried. He even had to teach a few of us to read!

Ty was brutal on the Bulls that had made the decision to become the militia of this new sprawling town. The Bulls hated Ty for it, but they knew better than to tempt the one being that could out-shout even the minotaurs. For all their hardship, the Bulls definitely showed improvements.

They could now go faster and further.

They could now fight for far longer and far harder, and their minds were as sharp as their weapons, which they now wielded with great skill as well as increased strength.

Perhaps there was something, after all, to come from these human training methods.

Bullheart could only hope that this would be worth it.

“Alright, final day,” I shouted.

The battered, bruised, weary, and hungry Bulls chinned up at the news. At least it was almost over.

“Final Lesson!" I announced. "Gather ‘round.”

The line dissolved as the Bulls surrounded Ty.

I declared, with a raised, clenched fist, “Spirit!”

The militia looked at each other, lost to the meaning of the human’s babbling.

“You can have the best swords, the best armor, the best food, and the best training in the world if you don’t have the spirit of a successful army. A long time ago, there were people called the Romans, and they were called Romans because they were from a city called Rome.”

Ty walked out of the circle of bulls and continued.

“They made an empire with the drive that came from within. They said to themselves that their destiny was to rule the world.”

Ty flashed a maniacal toothy grin at the Bulls.

“They established one of the grandest ancient empires ever known to man with this energy and with this fire, but they faded from the world because they lost the spirit which made them great.”

Ty dropped the smile and drew one of his swords.

“The same could be said of any large empire. They succeed when a group of warriors comes together under a leader that makes them great. Their spirit and their valor and the best that they could get makes them great.”

As the bulls noticed the carts of new armor and weapons, Ty thrust his sword into the air.

“And with the best weapons and armor anywhere, you fine bulls, and my oversight, we will be unstoppable!”

The cheer that arose from the bulls was awe-inspiring. Bullheart thought that the other tyrants of this land would tremble before them.

As I listened to some music back in my shop in the evening, I wondered about many things.

Was the training I set out for the militia enough? Should I enlist more members now, or when a new danger presented itself? Should I have gone with the medieval swordsman equipment, with the armor and two-handed swords, or with something else? Was staying up late at night bad, or were the armor and weapons that now equipped my new army worth the missed hours of sleep?

As I pondered, nearly napping, there suddenly came a tapping at my forge’s door. That shook me from my train of thought, and I shut off my device and hid it away before answering the door. What met me on the other door was a dagger, held by a black-feathered and black-furred griffon. The blade sank deep into my chest, producing a most shocking, curious, and agonizing sensation.

I whispered, through gritted teeth, "Of all the days to not be wearing that damn armor..."

The steel was as cold as death. Deep inside me, it intruded, creating a very real sensation of wrongness and alarm, not to mention the pain. I stumbled back into my abode, the assassin disappearing, his parting gift jutting out of my chest. My breath quickened. A wound like this was fatal. I could feel my warm heart attempt to pump around the cold steel embedded within. I fell backward, landing on my back. As I felt warmth leave my extremities, some kind of energy within the blade charged up, freezing me further. I felt like I was being squeezed through a tiny space chest first, and I could feel myself departing this realm for a much darker, colder place.

Then all was pain.

The lazy town was awakened not by the harsh voice of a commanding officer, nor the scolding tone of a mother, but the anguished alarm of a pony.

"Murder! Ty's been murdered!"

10 - Aftermath

"My King!"

In an ornate throne room, built with marble and laced with gold, a shady griffon, clad in a cloak, approached a gilded throne, where a silvery griffon sat, wearing royal purple and donning the Griffon Kingdom's crown. The aged bird leaned forward and asked, "Is it done, Spymaster?"

The Spymaster bowed to his talons and paws and said, "The assassination has gone off without a hitch, noble Silverfeather. The East remains in anarchy."

The King sank into his cushions, releasing a sigh of relief. It was always tedious, having to cull upstarts in East Freytara, but rivals had to be under control while he furthered his plans in the West. Speaking of which...

"How fares the diplomacy with the Saddle Arabians?"

The Spymaster rose onto his hind legs and said, "The last friend of the Equestrians are extremely hesitant to leave their long-time ally, my Liege. The administration has hardened their hearts against us, but we've received word of insurrection within the heavily-taxed rural areas."

The King stroked his silvery beard, clicked his beak, shook his head, and said, "No, that will not be good enough. Their cause is not our own. If we support these rebels, it may be discovered by the Sultan and the Equestrians and we'd face a two-front war. What else do you have?"

The Spymaster rubbed his talons together contemplatingly, and hummed. He finally answered, "The Sultan's son."

The King sipped from his goblet, and asked, "What of him?"

The Spymaster made gestures with his claws and reported, "The son of the Sultan has been raised all his life in their Royal Palace. He has known only peace and comfort his whole life, and it is well-known that he shirks his studies to play and relax."

The King thought about this and said, "That makes him slightly more loyal to the temptations of the flesh than to his father and his kingdom."

"Yes, my Liege,” said the Spymaster. “We will not vassalize the father, but the son."

The King grinned wide and said, "Good. We work on the son, but we have to do it slowly. If we ask him now, he'll refuse us, and we will have made an enemy. We'll have to cater to our noble prince. Get him away from his father's court and into our own. But how to do it?"

Both griffons thought on this for a minute. The only sound in the empty throne room was the footfalls of the Spymaster as he paced and paced.

After a while, the King spoke up.

"What if we offer to school the Saddle Arabian prince?"

The Spymaster looked up to the King and asked, "My Liege?"

The King tapped the tips of his talons together and said, "Yes, that's what we'll do. An exchange program. We'll send our adventurous Prince Foxhale to the Saddle Arabian court to learn their ways, and we'll receive their prince, Prince..."

"Hoofendale."

"Prince Hoofendale as a gesture of good faith. We'll spoil the prince, and he'll learn to appreciate us just a little more than his father."

"My Liege, won't exposing Prince Foxhale to their influence be a danger?"

The King waved off the notion and said, "He knows better than to betray us and our people. I've assured his patriotism."

The Spymaster bowed low. "Very good, my Liege."

The King pointed above the Spymaster and commanded, "Summon Foxhale and a messenger."

The Spymaster said before departing, "At once, King Silverfeather."

After the Spymaster had left, King Silverfeather walked to an open window. He then said to himself, "The imperial dreams of my fathers, passed onto my sons, will one day come to fruition.

“I'm sure of it."

“Princess Celestia!”

A guard trotted up to the Equestrian throne with a scroll. The Solar Diarch took the scroll in her telekinetic aura and dismissed the guard. She read the report as such,

“

Princess,

The mission you sent Ty on is a failure. A griffon assassin arrived in Ty’s abode in the dead of night and stabbed him with an accursed blade. The people of East Freytara lack a leader once more.

Awaiting instructions.”

Celestia read the letter, and then re-read it. She looked over it again. A heavy sigh escaped the princess. Her hasty ploy had failed. New doubts entered her mind.

‘You shouldn’t have done it.’

‘You should have trained him.’

‘You should have anticipated what the griffons would do.’

‘You should have chosen another.’

Her feelings manifested in the form of a song.

“Heroes are sand in the hour glass...

all must eventually die...

each must return to the darkness...

even a princess like I.

All we can do is keep true to all the plans we have made...

all we can do is continue to shine and wait for the day we will fade.”

Celestia waved her head and cleared it of all of those thoughts. Still, only a nagging doubt remained. She would not attempt that again.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of a noble leader."

It was a somber, overcast day in Dogetown. Bullheart stood in front of a town, the crowd composed of citizens of every race that had settled in Dogetown. Diamond dogs, ponies, minotaurs. All were in attendance for this day. Bullheart put his hands back on the pulpit and continued.

"As it is with many who aspire to lead the Freytaran East, Ty's life and reign were cut short by an assassin. Out here, there are no laws. No peace. No security. No civilization. Like many, Ty came to bring us to greatness. Like many, Ty fell to the accursed blade of the griffon assassin.

But Ty was different."

Barely composed, Bullheart gripped the edges of the podium. Tears welled in the corner of his eyes.

"He, being the only one of his kind, saw past the boundaries that we have made between ourselves. He wasn't a charismatic leader just for dogs, minotaurs, or even ponies. He was looking to include all of us as citizens.

What he said to me when we were training, I'll never forget. In a way, I think Ty was grooming me to be his second-in-command or even his heir. In a way, that was true. In another way, that was false."

Bullheart stepped from behind the podium to allow Bronzehoof onto the podium, and he spoke,

"I thought he was also grooming me for the honor, but that's simply not the case. He was training us all."

Bronzehoof also stepped down, letting Bigpaw speak.

"I liked Boss Ty. Boss Ty took care of Bigpaw and all diamond dogs. Boss Ty also took care of ponies and minotaurs. Boss Ty told me, 'Leaders can lead followers to great things.' Boss Ty dead now, but we here now."

Bigpaw stepped down and let Bullheart speak, his rage creeping into his speech.

"They think that murdering Ty like some animal will keep us cowed."

The crowd started to get more lively-looking. Some even wore faces of determination.

"That they'll keep us under the yoke of their tyranny!"

The anger swelled among the crowd.

"They don't know that for the first time, We've known a better way. A way that favors no one. A way that offers freedom and security for everyone. A way that we will continue to uphold!"

Fists, hooves, and claws now pumped up and down in the crowd.

"A way that Ty died for! They killed him because they were afraid of him, and us! We, the people of East Freytara!"

The cheering started to hit a high pitch.

"We, the followers of this new way, shall overcome all the assassins and treachery the West sends against us! We will rebuild Freytara on the ashes of tyranny, and it will have been an outsider who started East Freytara on this path! We salute you, Ty the Martyr!"

A new nation was formed at the funeral of its first leader.

11 - Dark Places

Why can't I just die?

The knife had remained in my chest ever since that coward of a griffon had put it here. I knew better than to take it out, especially since I could still feel the cold object within my somehow-still-beating heart.

That, and my mind was too preoccupied with immediate concerns.

As I collapsed to the floor of the forge, I felt myself being compressed enough to fit through the eye of a needle, than severe discomfort and nauseousness as I decompressed in some pitch-black dark, damp, humid place devoid of life. I didn’t have time, however, to ponder where I was, because something blacker than night crawled into my chest through the knife wound. All my skin felt like it was on fire. It felt as if some entity was digging through my chest into my skull, shoving aside whatever was in the way to get at it. My very vision turned dark, and dark whispers filled my consciousness. I grit my teeth and gripped my skull.

I screamed and pleaded, “Out! Get out! Argh, you dumb squatters!”

The wordless whispers continued, and the presence grew stronger, threatening to devour my mind, without any warning, any remorse, or any semblance of regret.

So I resolved to devour him first. I wasn’t sure how, but I didn’t want to end up its victim. I started grunting from the exertion of staying coherent, then I started growling, trying to scare the entity away. Then I started yelling and hollering in anger and agony. My vision started returning, and I felt the presence withdrawing. I grew colder still and less coherent. I couldn’t see the cold walls around me, the blackness of this dark place nearly blinding me to the approach of more moving figures of darkness, all who pounced on me. My panic nearly overpowered me as I felt claws and teeth and pain. I fought back against the demonic horde, losing more and more of my coherent thought as I ripped and tore, bit and ate.
"Screw you, man!"

Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear. Rip and tear.

Thus began a new rhythm of life.

...How long has it been? Time is... I don't know. This place is weird. I have to get out. I don't like this place.

I was alone now, having recovered from that episode. My body felt broken and bent, and my clothes were now but ribbons still holding onto me. I reviewed what had happened.

A knife sent me here, to this... place. I fought something... no, a lot of somethings, like demonic shadows, and if the aches in my stomach are anything to go by, I might’ve eaten something that disagreed with me.

As I dwelled on it, the ache grew. First to my lungs, then to my heart, where the ache blossomed throughout my veins. I looked at my bloody hands (My blood!), where my veins more resembled black tendrils and my skin more resembled the flesh of the dead than anything else. As my panic rose, more pain somehow radiated from my bones. It all felt so... wrong, and the wracking pain cascading through me forced me first to my knees, then into a fetal position as I heard and felt cracks and stretching skin and sinew. My cries and lamentations were heard by no one.

"That griffon! Did he know?!"

Finally, the only thing that I felt that hurt anymore was the beating of my heart. With every pulse of blood, a new spike of pain shot through me, but it was at manageable levels now. My night vision, while not enough to see perfectly in this black place, was better than it was before. On unsteady legs, I got up and started wandering the dark caves. The only sounds other than my breathing and my footfalls and the echoes of my breathing and footfalls were the dripping of water on the stone and the echoes of screams past.

"At least... hah. I got lucky, I... think."

As I limped, one hand on my back to keep it from aching too much, I finally noticed the smell of iron in the air, and I realized that the moisture on the surface of the cave wasn't water. I made a note to try and not steady myself on the walls of the cave. I rubbed my face, then noticed that my hands weren't what they used to be. The last digit of each hand was elongated and ended in a claw. As I stared in shock, my back gave out, forcing me to the ground. I rolled onto my back and tried to rest. I ultimately fell into a dreamless sleep, coated in stuff I didn't even want to know about.

Bullheart. Bigpaw. Bronzehoof. Did they know?

...Does Celestia know about this place?

I've found a way up.

It wasn't very inviting, but there was more light coming from above then there was below. I didn't want another run-in with those shadow things. That, and I wanted out. I wanted to feast.

By all the stars, I was hungry.

I had no idea how much time I had spent down there, but it was apparently long enough that I shivered and ached for want of food and drink. As I reached a sort of plateau, I heard someone cry out, "What?! Is that a Blade of Surt?"

There was a scrawny red and black centaur-looking-thing with red eyes in a large cage in the center of of the plateau. He was fixing his gaze on me, or rather, the dagger sticking out of me, as he gripped the bars of his prison. I placed a hand on the hilt, having completely forgotten about that little murder instrument.

I stuttered, "I... think... so."

The thing informed me, "I recognize that curse anywhere! It's one designed to send its victim to the deepest pits of Tartarus, where few go and none return."

I relayed, "I... see."

As he gave the impromptu lesson, I half-mindedly listened and filed that first tidbit away for future reference. I ambled closer and closer to that bag of succulent viscera and marrow, a certain something overpowering all other thoughts, feelings, and even the ramblings of this creature as he described his personal dealings with dark magic.

I hesitantly asked, "Hey... you got... any meat? I see some... on your bones."

I cared not, and when I was within arm's reach of the blissfully unaware tummy yummy, I struck, grabbing his limbs and pulling him towards me, pinning him to the bars of what could've been his shelter from me.

"H-Hey," I meekly spoke. "Hold still. You're spoiling the only thing to eat around... here."

I mindlessly feasted on the unfortunate creature, not recognizing it as anything other than a meal that screamed and struggled for a while. After this was done, I finished the lunch in near-silence, only the sweet sound of snapping bone and tearing flesh meeting my ears. I finally, finally regained some semblance of sanity after I realized I was licking what bloodstained enchanted metal I could get at, and I immediately regretted becoming coherent. I was in Tartarus. I had just eaten on raw flesh again. The only clue I had, other than the dull hunger being less severe, was the fact that I was freshly stained with blood, as well as the bloodstains on the cage. I felt sick, and I didn’t resist the need to vomit. Making a mental note to find some water after this, I looked for a way out.

I laughed. "N-No one has to know about this... right?"

Twilight Sparkle was reading the latest Daring Do book, finally having the time to do so after her princess duties had been done for the day. She thought back to the meeting conference that she had just attended in Freytara. After Ty had been assassinated, the East rose up and, in a quick war, took over the West, and now a rudimentary government stood watch over all of Freytara, albeit one whose officials had muscled their way into power with money and prestige rather than with merit. Even with that, Twilight sensed that Celestia was happy with how things turned out, even if it had cost that life.

Twilight sighed. There was a sadness behind the motherly smile of Celestia as of late. Was it because of Ty? Or something else?

A chill ran through her spine as the sound of someone knocking on the crystal doors met her ears. She sighed and got up from the cushion she was using.

It had to be on the night I sent all the staff ponies home.

She navigated the crystal halls to answer the summons when she heard a commotion. The pitter-patter of little drake feet, the opening of a door, a yelp, and something falling hard. It was when she heard her name being called that she hastened and took to the air. She slid to the open door, took a look at Spike, then looked to the mess of blood and torn clothing.

There was a pause.

"Uh...Spike?" Twilight asked.

"Y-yeah?" Spike responded.

"Who's this?" Twilight fervently asked, inching closer with every hoofstep.

"I-It's..." stammered Spike, as he poked at it. "The Ghost of Ty!”

Twilight Sparkle looked at the mess of a body and then back to Spike.

“Spike, I don’t think ghosts faint,” Twilight thought aloud.

Spike turned to Twilight and asked, “How about wraiths?”

Turning herself to Spike, Twilight hissed, “What?”

Whispering, Spike asked, “Apparitions?”

Grunting, Twilight whispered, “No, Spike!”

Listing off the possibilities, Spike then quizzed, “Spirits, phantoms, or specters?”

Turning back to the body, Twilight poked the prone form with her hoof. She then said quietly, “Spike, it’s corporeal.”

Spike turned back to the injured thing and offered, “So it is a ghost!?”

Twilight rolled narrowed eyes. “Spike, that’s incorporeal,” she corrected with a slight frown.

Corrected, Spike said, “Oh.”

With that, Twilight lit up her horn with telekinesis magic and instructed, “We better help him. C’mon, Spike.”

“It may not be a ghost, but it is Ty,” concluded Twilight.

Ty lay unconscious in a large cushion in the study of the Ponyville castle, breathing and alive, but unresponsive to the world around him. Twilight had a doctor’s kit opened, and she looked over him with a stethoscope and a flashlight. A pile of notes sat beside her.

Spike fidgeted, and asked while playing with his restless claws, “Did you remember him having such sharp teeth and talons?”

“Kinda," Twilight noted, "but not this much.”

Twilight lifted Ty’s upper lip with a tongue depressor to get another look inside Ty’s mouth, and her disgust almost overpowered her curiosity. Almost. Inside, there were serrated black teeth surrounded by infected-looking gums and tongue. All in all, Twilight was sure that Ty’s mouth was not supposed to look like that.

Probably.

She took some notes of the condition of Ty’s mouth before looking at his eyes again, which had the look of black marbles with pinprick white dots, which didn’t respond to a flashlight being shone in it. She recorded her observations and felt his heartbeat again. It was an eerily slow heartbeat, but it was a heartbeat, to be sure. His breathing level was also very slow. She also noted the pulsating of his veins, with a black substance coursing through them with a speed that defied explanation, especially with his low heart rate. Spike nervously paced and asked, “Do you think we should get the Princess?”

Twilight took the stethoscope out of her ears and sighed. “Yeah, Spike. Something’s very wrong with Ty, but I can’t figure out what it is. I’ve never seen this kind of condition before anywhere.”

Running off, Spike reported, “I’ll get the parchment.”

Ty the Martyred is alive.

Those five words burned again into the consciousness of Princess Celestia. She was awoken to find a late-night letter from Twilight Sparkle. She arose from her bed to rest on a cushion near a lit fireplace to open and read the scroll that had arrived in the dead of night. Celestia at first thought it a product of Twilight’s curiosity and insomnia, asking something about the nature of the observable universe, but the short message contained within putting cold to her heart like the knife to Ty's own.

Dear Pri Celestia,

Ty is here at my castle, alive. Please come.

~Spike

It had been five years. Ty was the brainchild of Celestia and Discord, but she had never considered him a son. After all, a son was born naturally, not made from pure energy. That didn’t stop her from considering him one of her little subjects, though. She had introduced him to Ponyville to begin his adjustment and eventually make his way to her, where she would offer him up to his quest. He had accepted, then died to a Blade of Surt from the late Griffon King.

But according to this letter, Ty had somehow... survived. Celestia could not remember any who survived the torment a Blade of Surt put through its victims, even in rumor. To hear of such a thing was ludicrous. She had finally gotten over the loss of his life and the undoing of a carefully constructed gambit when he showed up again.

She needed to get to Ponyville.

Author's Note

You didn't think he was so lucky as to die, do you?

12 - The Castle

An agonizing amount of time passed between the departure of Spike’s letter and the return reply of fellow princess Celestia. Twilight couldn’t stand it. Was it actually taking a long time, or was the thick tension in the air just making it seem like it was taking a long time? The cold night air had nothing to comment on the matter. Ty had been situated on a recliner in the study, where Twilight had the time to look over him more carefully. He was in poor shape, but more importantly, he didn’t look like himself. Sharper teeth, digits that ended in claws, eyes that resembled black marbles, and darkened veins and pearly-white skin. Twilight would consult the hospital, but she was fairly certain they hadn’t treated a condition quite like this before. At the very least, she hoped that Princess Celestia would know about this and how to reverse it. Ty looked to be in pain: his face was contorted, his extremities twitched, and his head occasionally moved.

“What happened to you, Ty?” wondered Twilight aloud.

It was that moment when Twilight Sparkle asked that when Spike entered, along with the Solar and Lunar Princesses. Twilight immediately ran up and embraced them both, which the Princesses returned. Princess Celestia said, “We came as soon as we could, Twilight.”

“Thank you, Celestia,” was all the exhausted Twilight could manage. After the momentary reunion, Twilight broke away, leading the princesses to the recliner and to Ty. The princesses were horrified, and they rushed to his side, observing every little detail. The more they saw, the more they wish they didn’t.

"An ancient evil," whispered Luna aside.

While the Princesses looked over Ty, Spike stood aside, noticing that the place was dark, since the candles had gone out. He thought to open the curtains to the room and provide illumination since the sun had risen.

The moment that rays of light from the morning sun hit Ty’s skin, it started to boil. The dark energies tried to defy the light, but the sizzling and the convulsion of the energies belied their defeat. What was more shocking than that to everyone inside the room was that Ty recoiled, clutching at himself and screaming awake. Blackened eyes wide open and now aware, Ty fell out of the recliner to roll around in agony, screaming all the way. In a rush, Spike closed the blinds, and the impromptu frying of Ty ceased. He curled up into a ball, breathing heavily.

The air was silent otherwise. Twilight finally asked, “Ty?”

Working his jaw, Ty slowly formed the words, unintelligible until he said it the third or fourth time.

“Kill me.”

That shocked everyone else into silence.

“Kill me, please. I’m a demon with a hunger for raw flesh that I may not be able to resist. I’m going to kill and eat again. Frankly, this sucks.”

As Celestia, Luna, Twilight, and Spike backed away, Ty stood on shaky legs. He advanced toward the window. Celestia was about to ask what he intended when he fell on one of the drapes, dragging his claws into it and hanging on it. The windowsill groaned a bit before giving, again exposing Ty to the sun. As before, his skin started to object to the rays of the sun. Ty held himself up, grimacing and trying to embrace the sunlight as his skin cooked.

It was Luna who then tackled him to the ground, and she had to subdue him by holding her own arms over his. Pitiful cries of weakened defiance escaped him, and Ty continued to resist. His struggles eventually petered out, and Luna asked, “Art thou quite finished yet?”

Ty’s response was light snoring. After Luna set Ty back down on another sofa, and the drapes had been dragged away by Spike, all too eager not to be there, the trio of princesses gathered. Twilight noted that the severity of whatever afflicted Ty had... lessened. His skin was still grey and his veins were still blackened, but his digits were now rounded, and his teeth were significantly less sharp.

"What happened to you, Ty?" asked Twilight.

She was never really fond of him, considering the whole two day-long chase sequence, but seeing anyone in pain hurts Twilight. Seeing someone suffer from an inexplicable condition that he says will drive him to kill. Was this really what's happening?

Almost in answer to her inner question, Luna said, "The Spectrals."

The mention made Celestia shudder, but the meaning was lost in Twilight. "Spectrals?" she asked.

Luna nodded.

"They are all that remains of demonkind that invaded Equestria long ago. Their spirits haunted us long after their defeat, and these spirits were just as dangerous in death as they were in life. They lurked in the dark and liked to carry away foals into the abyss, never to be seen again, except as another Spectral."

Celestia walked closer to Ty and cut in, saying, "So, the decision was made to imprison them in a deep cave for all eternity. This was the original purpose of Tartarus."

Looking back to Ty, Twilight now held a new perspective on exactly what was ailing him... except she didn’t, actually.

“But why is he like that?”

Looking over Ty again, Celestia said, “It is extremely rare for someone to be able to resist the influence of a Spectral if it grafts itself into their body. Such cases were the stuff of fairytales. Tales of family members having to be put down for wandering too close to the woods. Tales of otherwise sane and stable beings begging for death and meat. Tales of Spectral Hosts.”

Twilight racked her brain for such a tale, but her inner search turned up empty. Should she have known about this earlier?

Celestia noticed Twilight's look and said, "You could not have known about this. Ancient evils are always best forgotten. The tales are no longer in circulation, and the danger is well-contained. It has been this way for many an era."

Celestia then turned back to Ty.

"Perhaps that time of peace from these monsters has ended," Luna mused.

Shadows. There seems to be nothing else other than that flooding my every senses. My every thought. My every emotion darkened and drained of any meaning by that devourer.

In other words, I'd rather be hung over.

My consciousness swam in darkness, beset by silence and the void of nonexistence, so it was when I heard... voices that I was roused from the stupor that complete sensory deprivation had put me in.

Voices. They were... spoken words from individuals. Individuals that were around me, even as I started to become coherent again. I felt... cold.

I was in a bed. Sheets and a blanket covered me. My head rested in a fine pillow. Something told me that I should be feeling warm, but I wasn't sure what it was, or why that was.

Next, I felt light coming through my eyelids. After a period of being blinded by the brightness every time I opened my eyes, I could see what was around me. I was in a hospital room. The whiteness of everything, from the walls to the bed and even the wood that made the bed frame almost blinded me.

The next sensation was a sore agony, as if I ran several marathons in a row, as well as fought armies along the way. I wasn't sleepy, but the sensation coming from my muscles all over was one that came from abuse and overuse.

Next, the hunger. The hunger. I couldn't really remember why, due to the groggy state I was in, but it seemed that eating would be very bad.

The hunger itself felt unnatural. I don't know why it felt that way, but it did. It seemed... revolting, as if something bad had happened. What was it, again?

Oh, right. Now I remember.

The texture of bone and soft organs, the way sinew and muscle snapped and tore beneath my hands and between my teeth. How easily it went down, and how the warm blood was more intoxicating than any drink. I held a beating heart in my mouth, feeling it pulse on my tongue until the pulse faded. It was... euphoric and horrifying.

With this memory came others flooding into my mind. The screeching of the damned. The way their claws tore at me, into me, and the sting of their bites and swipes. I remembered being in the deepest pit of Tartarus, and how I fought against the fury of the unholy. They even crawled inside me to find succor.

With the mystery of my fatigue resolved, I then thought of what I left behind when I went to Tartarus.

Mayor Bronzehoof. Bandit Chief turned Guard Captain Bullheart. The citizens of Dogeville. Bigpaw.

Freytara.

What happened to them while I was away? Did the griffon assassin get them, too? How long has it been since I was away?

What will happen to them if I should return?

What would happen to me? Am I to be doomed to die, having been cursed with something that is perhaps incurable? If I could be cured, would I have the strength left to go back to Freytara?

Would I have to find the strength to lead Freytara, as I once tried to do? Do I still have to, or is my mission accomplished?

My thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of a unicorn pony. Her outfit, demeanor, and her clipboard all screamed "Nurse". She took a moment to look up from her clipboard, suspended and highlighted in light pink magic, and her eyes widened.

She took a moment to twist her head to call to someone in the hallway, "He's awake!" Before stepping inside the room to go to the bedside. Up close, I noticed that her eyes were the same light bubblegum pink as her magic, and she cleared her throat.

Tender Care, a cream and earthy-colored unicorn nurse in the Ponyville Hospital entered the room where the unfortunate human Ty had been placed by the princesses. To Nurse Tender Care, it seemed as Ty was awake, judging by the way those deadened and lifeless eyes followed her. Tender Care managed to ask, "H-How are you feeling today, sir?"

Ty licked his dry, sickly lips. He was definitely looking better than the last time Tender Care had seen him. He looked around the room with sunken, mournful eyes before saying simply, "Cold."

Tender Care nodded. There are, after all, several ailments that can produce a sensation of cold in a patient while he can be under a mountain of soft, warm blankets. Perhaps this condition wasn't as alien as Tender Care had first feared. Still, better to be careful. She asked Ty, "Would you like a glass of water?"

His only answer was to nod his head. Tender Care hurried to get some nice, cold water. After having fetched it, she slowly and gently presented the drink to him with a straw in it. Ty moved to take the drink, but his movements were slow and, if the look on his face was any indication, they also caused much strain on Ty to simply shift his arm in the bed. Tender Care would have none of that.

She softly said, “No, you’re still too weak. Allow me.” Ty looked at Tender Care with sad eyes, but he slowly nodded his head. Holding the glass with her hooves, she helped Ty drink the water. It was a painfully slow process, and Ty was obviously pained to be seen in such a state, but the glass was gradually emptied, with ice gathered at the bottom of the glass. It was deposited on the side table, and Nurse Tender Care returned to Ty’s side. She then asked him, “Would you like some warm food, Ty?”

Suddenly, a new voice, deep and powerful, made itself known.

“I think I can help with that.”

Nurse Tender Care spun around, and there she saw a being with more shining armor and longer horns than she thought ever possible, but it seemed as Ty remembered him, since he took a sharp intake of breath and painfully muttered,

“Bullheart.”

Author's Note

Does this make the story undead?

13 - Summit

My feet held up unsteady legs. Legs that held up a wavering man.

Or whatever I’d become.

It was the middle of the night, and I'd had made my surprisingly unopposed exit from Tartarus. Cerberus had stood aside with an unreadable expression. Was it scared, or did it know somehow that I never belonged in there?

Regardless, the gnawing seemed to have gone down. After the attack, I felt like an aquarium. The most unsettling feeling was a dozen tiny bodies snaking their way across every rib, between every organ, and through every blood vessel. That sensation had thankfully stopped. In its place was a tranquility that I... frankly was frightened of. What did it mean? I can't hear the blood in my ears. I can't feel the thumping in my chest. All I can feel... is the ache of my legs. Twilight. Yes. My Little Pony. She can help, surely. She lives in a tree... right? Time to move.

That tree... It's bigger than I remembered... and it's glowing like some sort of salt crystal lamp. It'll... do.

“Uh, Boss?” a voice called out.

Ty blinked. He had been dreaming about going back to Ponyville after escaping from hell, with bloodstained claws and fangs, aching for more meat and--

Ty shuddered. He fought hard to control the hunger. The only hunger he would indulge himself in was the hunger of a man, not a monster. He looked around. The shipboard cabin was poorly-lit in the early morn, and the only thing Ty could see in front of him was the nervous Bullheart. The ship shifted in the waves, complicating Ty’s movements as he arose. The white sheets weren’t any warmer than when he had climbed in. Ty internally groaned. He was rather tired of everything being cold. The only warmth to be had these days was when the blood and gore ran past greedy lips, urging him with a fiery heat that only intensified as he...

Face in hands, Ty fought to control his breathing. “That bad?” Bullheart asked.

Ty managed to look up with a weary smile and said, “Oh, I just need to eat something. Something real. I’ll be fine.”

Bullheart offered his massive mitt, and Ty took it; Bullheart noted with some satisfaction that Ty seemed heavier than he was. He was still an utter lightweight, but... he should be feeling better, at least.

“Yeah. They should be having fish and eggs today.” Bullheart reminded Ty.

The aches went away. Ty blinked, then he smiled, as did Bullheart.

Perhaps Ty will overcome this after all.

“Ty the Martyr has returned? How?”

The throne room was well-lit, elaborate, ornate, and empty, save for two individuals. The former Griffon Prince turned King Foxhale clicked his talons on the armrest of the chair of his father’s thro-- his throne, as he had also inherited his late father’s property, his armies, his wealth...

His sins.

The white-furred, black-hooded and black-cloaked griffon servant bowed low again, and he meekly offered, “We... do not know, my liege. But we know this: the assassin your father had sent to deal with the upstart used a Blade of Surt, which banishes the victim to the darkest reaches of Tartarus. So, the only way Ty the Martyred could have returned...”

Blinking, beak agape, Foxhale quietly muttered, “...Is if Ty crawled out of hell.”

The servant nodded, and then continued, saying, “That seems likely, sire. What’s more, is that Ty harbors demonic spirits.”

Foxhale’s breath caught in his throat. The rhythmic clicking of the rings on his talons ceased as his claw froze. He clicked his beak some, then asked, “Demons? Doesn't sound good.”

The servant shrugged, then replied, “I am only relaying what I overheard, my liege.”

Foxhale’s beak began to grind. This was unacceptable. Not only would his throne be forfeit when Ty entered the Freytaran capital city of Summit, but...

“He is a danger to us all,” Foxhale grimly remarked.

The servant griffon, caught off-guard by the off-hand comment, asked nervously, “S-Sire?”

Foxhale rolled his neck, popping a few joints. With the rustle of robes and the clinking of jewelry, King Foxhale rose from his throne and paced around the throne podium. After a moment, Foxhale adjusted his crown and grimly said, “His popularity with the masses and the military means that his ascension to the ruling position is all but certain. If I were to resist him and his throng of followers with my honor guard, it would only result in bloodshed and... some sort of demon-host on the throne.”

The severity of the situation dawned on the griffon servant, and a bit of panic was evident in his voice as he asked in alarm, “B-But what can we do to stop this disaster in the making from happening, my liege?”

Foxhale took off his crown and observed his own image in a bright red ruby, scrutinizing his own dour expression. Taking a slow breath, Foxhale turned to face his servant again and said, “We abdicate.”

This caused the griffon servant to rise, and beseech his King. “But my Lord, you can’t just--”

Foxhale lifted a bejeweled claw, and the griffon servant was silenced, and he clicked his beak shut, slightly hysteric that he had just spoken out of turn.

Foxhale didn’t seem to notice this breach of conduct, or perhaps he didn’t care. The King continued by declaring, “We already know we can’t prevent Ty from taking the throne. This is fine. In fact, it would better serve our plans if I played the part of the wise leader and willingly stepped down when Ty comes to challenge me. This gives us time to prepare.”

The griffon servant hobbled closer and readjusted his wings. “Prepare what, my liege?” he said.

Foxhale’s face turned more serious, and he said, “A means to destroy Ty before a demonic blight befalls all of Freytara.”

Subtlety.

Subtlety was for a man who didn’t want to be seen. Subtlety was for a man who needed a bit of guile in his everyday demeanor and of his otherwise normal self. A man who might be a bit shy of attention and being in the spotlight a little. A man who would take secluded alleys and side streets to avoid exposure and people. A man who goes in under the cover of night

I was having none of that subtlety garbage. I strode right through the city they called Summit during a sunny day with my gathering crowd of various creatures and individuals, Bullheart being one who stood close to me, decked out in the very silvery armor I made for him. Good to know it held up. The shale cobblestone feet clacked underneath the many feet that it had to suddenly endure as the throng proceeded up the grey mountain. This march was done in complete silence, my mere presence having stunned the populace into silence, then intrigued them as they wanted to know what was going on.

It helped my visibility that I now wore a white cloak and robe for this occasion. It came with a hood, but I left it off, so everyone could see just who the hell I was.

I could hear some hushed whispers along the lines of,

“Is that really Ty the Martyred?”

“Has he really returned?”

“How did he come back?” And other generic hearsay, but I paid no heed to them, as I had a destination to reach.

The Palace. Good name. To the point. It was also pretty massive and elaborate, which was just a bonus for the eyes. I really liked the griffon gargoyles that were brandishing weapons. Menacing.

At the front was a very mean-looking gate, as well a few mean-looking griffon guards, whom Bullheart seemed to recognize. However, the guards weren’t impeding my path. They were... in ranks and formations as if my arrival was expected or even scheduled. I didn’t like this. It seemed like a trap, but still, I proceeded. The crowd that followed were still too busy gawking at my person with all the flowing bits, so they came with me into the castle. That wasn’t part of my plan, but at least I couldn’t be threatened too badly once inside this not-so-humble fortress.

Once I confirmed the location of the throne room from an overeager griffon guard captain, who seemed a bit young to be a guard captain, I was able to lead my host through winding hallways of Freytaran history, with plenty of busts, murals, paintings and tapestries to go around. Soon enough, the spirited young eagle-lion Maia had dutifully led me and my horde through the castle to the throne room, which I unceremoniously entered, while everyone else stayed back to see what would transpire here.

I saw the current King, a cool-looking griffon that I was sure would be Foxhale.

Classily, I greeted him, saying, "'Sup?"

“Please enter, my liege,” said King Foxhale.

To say that I was not expecting this was an understatement. I was expecting at least a little hostility, if not hesitation to the idea that I was just coming to seize the throne of Freytara from King Foxhale who had fought hard to earn that position during and after the war. It just seemed... off.

Foxhale stood next to the throne, with his robe and crown. Several guards flanked him, their gleaming armor shining in the light that filtered in from stained-glass windows. The King stepped forward, hind paws clapping on marble and tiled floors. He stood in front of me, hands behind his back. We looked into each other’s eyes, gauging each other’s strength, and studying for any signs of weakness. Thankfully, Foxhale broke away the impromptu staring contest, and, with a single motion, he presented his crown to me. The gold patterns glittered, and the gems and other precious stones sparkled. To see such a thing... and to know it was mine... the applause sounded, too...

Feels good to be the King.

Author's Note

I wonder what a Freytaran banner/flag would look like.

14 - Sovereign

“You are... certain of this?” Foxhale asked.

Ty flashed Foxhale a smile and clapped his hand on Foxhale’s shoulder. King Foxhale was now Duke Foxhale, Griffon Representative, and the former King’s Crown sat on Ty’s head, while Foxhale wore a much more modest, simpler crown atop his head. Ty said to Foxhale, “It’s all about doing the smart thing. Having all the races in Freytara be represented will not only help to bring all of us together as a brave new culture and people but as a more unified nation as a whole.”

Foxhale was then quick to raise a clawed finger and tried to give Ty the most intimidating glare he could. “What about the inevitable clashes between communities, families, and friends?” Foxhale sagely asked. Surely, Ty wouldn’t be so ignorant as to actually suggest they try to integrate everybody into a single living body. Surely, it would be much better for communities to segregate themselves into their appropriate groups on their own, as to avoid any interracial violence.

Ty waved a hand, shook his head, and then told Foxhale, “No, my friend. It is ultimately necessary for us to move forward with this notion, as this outcome was ultimately inevitable anyway. If not us, then those who will come after us.”

Foxhale was confused at the thought. Why would anything change? Everything is as it has been for a thousand years. Just because Ty showed up to rock the boat doesn’t mean suddenly everything changes. That was always how Foxhale saw the world, and what he was taught the world always was.

Yet, as Foxhale continued to listen to Ty’s newfangled ideas and principles that Ty conveyed with such confidence, Foxhale couldn’t help but wonder if Ty was a herald for more change after all.

Boreas was not a patient Griffon at the best of times. Being the Treasurer of Freytara, he was responsible for all the funds and all the expenditures and taxes of the new nation. The aged griffon had light gray fur as well as feathers of a darker grey hue, as well as played the part of the treasurer with He regularly goes into the treasury vaults to both check the number of funds stored there to make sure no embezzling occurred, and to keep himself distanced from all the idiots that wanted to spend the treasury’s money on the most inane projects...

An automated bubble blower prototype? Ridiculous.

A Clown School for Minotaurs? Don’t make me laugh.

An observatory for charting the stars? Why in the world would we do that when Luna, The Moon Princess, just moves the stars as she pleases?

So on and so forth. Really, the only thing that changed was the rate of ridiculous projects that demanded money and time, and both were at a premium, as far as Boreas was concerned.

This is why he promptly was sent into a panic when Boreas entered the half-emptied treasury.

Priceless gems and stones: gone.

Half the nation’s coinage: missing.

All of my patience: absent.

The world stopped, and so did Boreas’ heart. A million scenarios ran through his head, and they almost all ended with Boreas’ head on a pike. Even without running the numbers, there was no way that half the expenses the Empire accumulated could be paid for now with the money he could see. They would have to raise emergency taxes, and that was never good. There were few in the Empire who that would appeal to, and Boreas could count them on his talons.

Boreas wasn’t aware he was hyperventilating and making panicked noises with his beak until he realized he would have to report this. Holding onto what little was left of his shattered resolve, Boreas marched slowly to the throne room. The stone walls seemed all the colder and the figures in the tapestries gazed into his very being all the more. His failure to keep the Empire’s coin safe would be his undoing.

That was when he realized that somebody else was in the room. Spinning around, to his great horror, he discovered that it was his new Sovereign. Falling to his hands and knees, he blurted out and mumbled a thousand apologies for his failure as a Treasurer to keep the Empire’s coin safe.

What he did not expect, however, was a concerned hand clasping his shoulder. Looking up, Boreas saw the face of Ty, a bemused look on his face. He asked, “Do you know why this place seems a lot emptier, Boreas?”

“B-Because a filthy gang of thieves managed to sneak past the defenses, sire?” Boreas pitifully asked Ty back.

With a chuckle, Ty then said, “No, man. That was all me.”

If Boreas was at the depths to which surprise and shock could take him, this newest revelation then took him beneath what he had assumed to be the absolute state of shock and terror. Was his Sovereign an irresponsible and senseless creature? What kind of expense would justify this sort of reckless spending?

“I know what you’re thinking, Boreas. It’s not like that at all,” said Ty. What was this madman talking about? He continued, “It’s all an investment, see? I’m investing in the sort of thing that makes Equestria a pretty popular place to be for the ponies. From roads to railroads to water towers and post offices, you name it. If I can invest in these things, then they will be available for citizens to use regardless of their class or standing.”

Ty stood back up. “And yes, we can tax these things, too.”

Boreas stammered, “W-Well, we’ll have to adjust the budget, then.”

Standing back up himself, Boreas was relieved that he was, in fact, not about to face trouble and perhaps even the gallows. The prospect almost had proved too much for the old bird’s weary heart. Thankfully, this wasn’t the case, and the nightmare that Boreas had dreaded had been narrowly avoided.

“But...”

Oh, dear. Here it comes.

“I still need one more expense to file, Boreas. Just a formality.” said the Sovereign.

Boreas then said hesitantly, “What do you require of me, my Liege?”

Ty then retrieved a flyer from his person and presented it to Boreas. Taking it, Boreas read the flyer, which was promotional for a party that was to be held in the Imperial Palace a month from now. It was a diplomatic affair, with a party that the general public was invited to, and a private feast, that Ty would invite the leaders of the major players of the neighboring lands of Freytara.

“I understand, my Liege,” dutifully said Boreas.

Ty then clasped Boreas's shoulder and gratefully replied, “Thank you, Boreas. I’ll be sure to reward you for your thankless service.”

Boreas had decided that Ty would make a good Sovereign after all.

Making sure not to be seen, Foxhale ducked into the alleyway and crouched behind a trash can. The hooded and cloaked figure would, to a mere passerby, appear only as a beggar, with the ratty cloth that the cloak Foxhale wore was made of. After some period of waiting, Foxhale determined that, thankfully, he was not being followed, and rapped his fore knuckle three times on an adjacent alleyway hatch that led to a basement. After another period of waiting, the hatch opened, granting Foxhale access inside.

It was a dark and forbidding place that Foxhale then entered, but it was the dwelling place of the Spymaster. The title of Spymaster was awarded to the most talented and secretive of the ring of spies that Foxhale’s father and his fathers used to maintain. It was a tradition that Foxhale begrudgingly allowed since a network of eyes and ears would still be useful to him in the defense of his new station. He may no longer be King, but he could still exercise great power.

At the end of a dank and stony hallway, was a simple room. The Spymaster had retreated to it and awaited the arrival of Foxhale. Inside was a simple table with two chairs. The Spymaster, likewise having garbed himself in dark robes, would be unidentifiable to all but a select few within the Freytaran government.

The Spymaster had already situated himself on the far chair, and it creaked slightly under the weight of his person and his many hidden weapons. Foxhale only knew that the collection of knives and other such weapons would be envious to any soldier or any collector of items of a similar nature. Nervousness rising, Foxhale took the time to comfortably seat himself in the chair opposite of the Spymaster.

There, the Spymaster finally spoke. “Thank you for answering my summons, my Liege.” said the Spymaster.

Clearing his throat, and dusting off the table idly, Foxhale said, “You said you had some critical intelligence regarding a threat to our country, Spymaster.”

The Spymaster merely nodded, his beak barely being lit by the solitary candle on the table. He withdrew a book from his person and presented it to Foxhale. Taking it slowly, Foxhale opened the volume to a bookmarked page. What was presented to Foxhale from the text and the accompanying visualization was the stuff of nightmares. The artist had drawn a living shadow. It hunched over and stood on four legs, which ended in serrated claws. The face of the thing itself had a shape that was hard to pin down as anyone creature, be it pony, griffon, diamond dog, minotaur... or human.

“Spectrals have not been seen in our lands for many hundreds of years, my Liege. They are the remnants of an ancient evil that have all been but forgotten. When my predecessor stabbed our Sovereign with the last Blade of Surt, it sent him to the last known location of these beings.”

Studying the dark descriptions and the artist’s rendering of the creature, Foxhale couldn’t help but shudder. Had his Sovereign had to deal with these things? Didn’t he say something about an infection? What should happen should this infection take hold and consume Ty? The results, Foxhale determined, would be disastrous!

“I have thought of how best to handle this situation, Sire. This is an unprecedented event, one which we will have to approach with extreme caution.” reported the Spymaster.

With no small amount of trepidation, Foxhale realized that the Spymaster was correct in his assertions about the seriousness of the situation. Sovereign Ty may be able to ignore the effects of his time in Tartarus now... but it may come to Freytara’s ruination in the course of time, should this infection not be dealt with. It was with a feeling of relief, then, that Foxhale knew that the Spymaster would not report to him on the situation without becoming prepared with a solution for this predicament.

Slowly, and with ice in his voice, the Spymaster said, “In all the recorded histories of the Spectrals, there have been no instances where the possession is cured or removed from the Spectral host. This is irreversible, and it really will cost the Sovereign his life this time. We must act to ease the Sovereign’s passing.”

Of course, the solution the Spymaster presented Foxhale with was hardly the ideal one. If he was careless about this, it would only send a signal to the populace that Foxhale wished to retake the throne from the current Sovereign, Ty. This was hardly his plan, as he only wanted to serve his people, but if that was what it came to...

No. There has to be another way. It cannot just come to this senseless mercy killing in the name of preserving Freytara. There must be a spell, a magical remedy, a plant, a root, an incarnation, a burst of light, anything to cure Ty of this dark affliction. The more he thought, the more a plan came to Foxhale. There would be a summit in a month’s time. Then, and only then, would he confront the Sovereign with the ultimatum. He had a month to get together a team of specialists and experts in the fields of magic and healing. There has to be a way of Ty being cured of this.

If not, then Ty the Sovereign would have to be martyred again.

15 - Praetor

The Hunger was present, but barely so. Over the course of the past couple of weeks, I have noticed that the more normal things I do, the less noticeable the effects of my time in Tartarus have been. For instance, the more I take in normal, everyday food, like baked goods and fruits and veggies, the more the human side of me emerges. I haven’t tried any cooked meat yet, but I don’t really know if I want to risk anything.

It had been a week since my coronation as Sovereign of Freytara, and if I had known what the Sovereign was to do, I probably would have given it more thought before accepting the crown, scepter... and the paperwork that entails being the Sovereign. I had no idea of the amount of work I was to do in order to grow Freytara’s capabilities and infrastructure to that of Equestrian levels. There was much to do, even for something as relatively simple as making roads.

Order some cobblestone for paving the roads... import cobblestone where it’s not as readily available... contract some workers, and make sure they get paid, hire some overseers to ensure that work got done, ensure that the overseers also paved the road, order some clay and limestone to bind the road together... explain what and how you use concrete to great effect... pay for damages to concrete equipment... hire some Equestrian experts... hire more mapmakers.... The list of things to do goes on, and on.

I’m sure I could have ordered some underling of mine to do the work himself, but that would mean I would have nothing to do but brood on my... condition.

I haven’t forgotten that cryptic warning I was given by the Equestrian princesses that my condition may, in fact, be terminal and that I may have no choice but to throw myself into a fire. The image of myself burning up crosses my mind, and I visibly flinch. Such a fate would not be pleasant, nor would it be a good way to die. Yet... that was still preferable to the inevitable. I flex my right hand into a fist and then uncurled my hand to look at my palm. Even now, I look relatively normal, but I still see some signs of the ink-black blood that still courses through my veins, and I still look mildly pale. Even the maids of the palace had noticed and had done everything in their power and knowledge to help me, even if they, too, thought that their efforts would be in vain.

I sigh. There would have to be a delay in the work to make Freytara a rising power. This Spectral Host thing has to be resolved... one way or another. I get up from my desk and observe the study room I found myself in. The shelves were sparsely populated with books, and the light of the dying day could be seen through a dome in the ceiling, and through windows that flanked my desk. I looked to the door on the far side, which is itself flanked by the Griffonia colors of the former Kingdom of the Griffons. I had no idea what my heraldry might look like, but that admittedly was a minor concern of mine.

Now, I had to go find Foxhale and ask him to introduce me to the local experts in magic. If there was a cure, perhaps they would know. Failing that, I could even turn back to Equestria for help with this. A faint smile sits atop my face. I could make it out of this pickle after all.

In the Royal Planning Room, I sat opposite of the long table from Foxhale. The table itself was decorated with appropriate accouterments and gleaming candlesticks. Between us, sat the various advisors of Freytara, comprising of all the races that dwelled therein. It surprised even me that there was a Zebra present. I will have to learn his name after this meeting. I had called this gathering to learn of the capacity of whatever Magical Council Freytara was sure to have, and what it could do to render aid to me and my condition.

“No.” was all Foxhale said.

That simple response caused me to then disappointedly ask, “No?” I saw many faces around the table visibly flinch at the revelation, and Foxhale did a fine job of masking his own fear of rejecting my wishes. Foxhale then nodded, and said, “We simply do not have what you require here at Freytara, my Sovereign. No such Freytaran Magical Council exists, and we certainly do not have even the facilities to house any such experts, if we had any.”

Making a mental note to add “Magic Academy” on my to-do list, I sighed. This would have been so much simpler had we had the capacity to conduct research in our own homes. Of course, we could go to Equestria, but then we would have to be negotiating from a position of relative weakness. Of course, I didn’t think Celestia to be one to take advantage of such a fact, but it still would pain the higher-ups in Freytara to appear weak before anyone, and especially before the Equestrians.

I then asked, “You do know what this very well means, don’t you?” Nodding, Foxhale and the other councilmembers all but conceded unanimously to my rhetorical question. “This means we’ll have to go to the Equestrians.” I continued. To my surprise, many of the members of the table adopted sour looks upon the mention of the Equestrians. Even the three pony race representatives at the table seemed to darken, much to my surprise.

This, I would have to investigate. Another item for the to-do list later, and I had to find a way to conclude this meeting without having it end on such a mood-altering note. I would have to set these members of the council to work, even Foxhale, while I journeyed back to Equestria, and to hopefully find a cure. Recalling my earlier planning, I hunched over to retrieve something from my bag. A stack of papers, with my signatures on them. I announced,

“I will away to the Equestrians, then. I do not know how long I will be away, so expect me to be back on the eve or sooner of the Freytaran Summit. In the meantime...”

I took the stack of papers and tapped them on the table. Handing it off to Bronze Hoof, I continued, “I hope you can keep busy. Thank you, my subjects. This meeting is adjourned.”

As the various members of that meeting departed, I looked to Foxhale, who didn’t get up from his seat. Obviously, he would speak with me alone. Nodding, I granted his request in silence. Nobody else in the room seemed to notice as the various members filed out one-by-one. As the double-doors to the room closed, Foxhale cleared his throat.

“My Sovereign... I would not dare to defy your wishes, but do you think this wise?”

Ah. That was his intent. To keep me honest, or to expose my deceit, I suppose. There would be a few theories about my loyalties to Celestia, no doubt. I answered him, “Yes. Unless we find a way to neutralize this Spectral host, I will be lost to the darkness in due time. This seems to be the only way unless you want to try your luck with whatever shady elements you can find?”

That seemed to rustle his feathers. His white-gold feathers on his neck stood up, and his golden eyes widened as if I could gaze into his soul and interpret his sins. After a moment of my non-action, he settled down. After a moment, he sighed deeply. “Of course, my Sovereign. I will trust your judgment here. As for the... suggestion, I will take it into consideration.”

Looking down at the table, and scratching my hair, I then said, “I guess that means we’re done here.”

As the King-turned-Duke passed my chair to leave, I grabbed his left foreleg with my left hand. He turned to me, and we gauged each other. At a loss of words, I simply complimented him, saying, “You’re doing a good job, Foxhale. This means a lot to me.”

He nodded wordlessly and made to leave. As he departed, I was left alone with my thoughts...

as well as my demons.

“Sire, I think you’ll like this.”

Looking up at the comically blue sky, I could see that I do, indeed, like this.

It was a magnificent sight. Above, the oval, silver balloon stretched and heaved as it carried the boat beneath. I questioned the design choice of making the gondola resemble a sea-faring ship and then supposed that the wooden gondola being built like a boat would enable the airship to land on the sea, albeit, I suppose, at a calm tide. Otherwise, we would simply ride above any storm that would threaten to tear the balloon away from the gondola. It was obviously of Equestrian design, with many embellishments and, quite frankly, toyetic design, but it had a few Freytaran twists, with brass and bronze replacing much of the gold and gems that the ship was obviously previously decorated with.

The airship crewmember (Would that make her an Airman-- err... Airmare?) gestured to the flying piece of wonder and cried out, “It’s the first of her kind, Sire! We’ve taken to calling it the Praetor! Pretty cool, huh?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the choice of naming and the way that the pony presented it to me. She seemed nice enough, and, as the vessel loomed ever nearer, she would boast of the airship’s capabilities and the tedious degree to which the craft was meticulously cared for and loved as if it were a noble lady, which, I should admit, wouldn’t be too far off from the actual beauty of the Praetor. As the gondola reached the green cliff we stood near the edge of, a gangplank was first lifted, then summarily dropped onto the edge of the cliff. The cream colored and brunette pegasus then seemed to switch personalities completely, as she donned an Air Marshal’s tricorne.

Gone was the jovial mare who liked to wear stripes of blue and white in the seaman tradition. Here was a Commander. I have to give it to Pearlbiter, she knew how to swear like a sailor. The almost cowering crew rushed to redo any loose knots or jig up the spare mast, or otherwise tend to the ship, making sure every spot was shining. As I neared the main deck of the ship, Pearlbiter 180’d again, and sweetly said to me, “I’ll get someone now to lead you to your quarters, my Lord.”

Then she flipped her mood again and turned to an unfortunate colt of night colors. “Hey! Show him to his quarter, Yeoman!” she coarsely yelled. Rushing to please his Captain, the Yeoman (Yeocolt? Yeopony?) snapped a hasty salute and rushed off to the lower decks before rushing back to the main deck in a state of panic, and saluted again before muttering, “This-This-This way, your Highness.”

Making sure to slow down this time, the Yeoman led me to the aft cabin, which was decorated every way from Sunday, almost an exact image of the room I have in the castle. I knew that I was the leader of this modest nation, but I was honestly beginning to feel spoiled. I slipped the unfortunate yeomen a few gold coins and dismissed him. The guy must have had a lot of grief from the captain, as does the rest of the crewmen. I suppose it’s all part of the job.

It felt weird to unpack my things into this dresser, as it was a mirror image of the dresser that I had just packed my things out of. I suppose it was just a temporary transition. Something to get used to. I chuckled as I sorted my things. It may have been a relatively minor problem, to be sure. I sarcastically said, “Oh, geez! The dresser looks exactly like the one I have back at home! Now I don’t know what to do!”

With a full-bellied laugh, I took considerable comfort that this was the problem of the day that I was facing, and not the fact that I could turn into a demon.

16 - Return to Ponyville

Equestria loomed in the distance. The sway of the ship and the parting of the clouds before the flying ship Praetor was a unique experience for me. The view from up here was also spectacular. Green hills and white-capped mountains stretched before me and my crew, many of whom looked on with wide eyes and agape mouths. It occurred to me that these people might not even have seen Equestria before.

Oh, they were in for a treat, I think.

Seeing how the Captain of the Praetor, Pearlbiter, was working over the relatively inexperienced crew, I had thought to put some bits aside for a little feast the crew would be able to have. This is in addition to their pay, of course. I just wanted to show them my appreciation for all the help they have done. I looked back to their amazed features and I wondered if the face they were wearing would be the same as when I show them a long table full of hot food.

Canterlot sat in the distance. Those ivory peaks, topped with blue tiles and golden banners. Then, there was Ponyville. The thatched roofs and the assorted gardens and hills. The most prominent feature, of course, was the crystal castle, shaped like a tree. The light was captured in the crystalline structure and released in sparkles that released off the branch-ends, almost like leaves of light.

The landscape stretched before us, green, and rolling. If I had seen a rendition of this landscape and someone told me it was a real representation of Equestria, I would have thought them lying. Yet this... I could not deny what I was seeing. I would have to see if Freytara’s landscapes were anything like this continent’s. Moreover, there was still so much to learn about this new world that I found myself in.

I looked at the castle for a while, from my spot at the fore of the ship, leaning on the smooth, round, wooden railing. The straight, pointed, plain brass prow jutted out from the front of the ship. I kept looking at the crystal castle and leaned my head back.

“Pearlbiter?”

The cream-brunette pegasus, with blue and white leggings and withers uniform, took a break from yelling herself hoarse (heh) and walked over. She adjusted the black tricorn on her head. She smiled, and asked, “What is it that you needed, my liege?”

The crew hustled and bustled as they made ready for the descent. The noise of work sounded all around us. Ropes strained, feet slapped and clicked on deck, and grunts and groans were loosed as backs worked.

I pointed a finger down, at the violet crystal castle below. “What’s the story behind that?”

Pearl followed my gaze and saw the castle. “Oh,” she remarked, “Princess Twilight got it from a box, so the story goes.”

I met Pearl’s eyes, and she held her gaze steadfastly. I scratched the back of my head. “If you’re sure,” I said.

Pearlbiter laughed. “You can just ask yourself when you get there. Anything else?”

I rubbed my eyes. “I’m still not quite caught up to current events. Something else I should know?”

A flock of birds flew under our ship. I couldn’t tell what they were. They weren’t close enough to see what color they were.

“I don’t think so, my Liege. I’m sure those insufferable Equestrians could tell you anything else you’d like to know what happened to them recently.”

I turned to Pearlbiter. “You know,” I stated. “I’ve never understood that.”

Pearlbiter blinked.

“I’ve noticed that Freytarans, even Freytaran ponies, are not fans of the Equestrians.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Oh, that. It’s a long history.”

Now it was my turn to blink. “If you say so,” I mused, as I turned back to the railing and my observing of the Equestrian countryside. Pearl leaned up and stood, with her eyes scanning the horizon.

I sighed, turned to Pearl, and said, "If we want our nation to have good relations with the Equestrians, then we have to lose this grudge."

Snapping back to me, Pearl, with stern eyes, replied, "But—"

I then interrupted her with a finger to her face, and said, "No buts. Whatever past Freytara has with the Equestrians, we must not allow it to compromise the future we can build together."

Pearlbiter looked at me crossly, with an angry expression most would call cute... just not to her face. She turned away when she barked out more orders. I’ve learned to ignore them. What they meant was that we were about to land. I looked at the looming landscape.

My breath hitched. My hands gripped the wood. My vision swam, as sensation crept through my body. I could even see dark forms dance across my vision, as anyone looking into my eyes would surely see those same shapes dancing across the top of my eyes. My jaws opened and shut as if biting, and the hot ghostly taste...

A large hand found itself on my right shoulder. Looking to my left, I saw Bullheart, the Minotaur. The wind danced across my face, though the cool sensation was distant, as was the warm sensation of the sun. It was a cloudless sky.

“You alright?” asked the big guy.

I let go of the railing. My hands shook. I gulped and tucked my arms.

“Sir.”

I took a shaky breath in. “I’ll... I’ll be fine.”

“I hope the Equestrians can help you.”

I finally met Bullheart’s yellow eyes. “Me, too. If not, it won’t matter how fine I am.”

We looked at Ponyville.

Twilight Sparkle and her friends stood in front of the Friendship Castle, with the Freytaran airship, Praetor, slowly floating into position. While there were no proper airports in Ponyville (Twilight made a note to see if she could/should rectify that), any piece of an open field will do in a pinch for the landing of the foreign craft. It was perhaps not as flashy as a Royal Equestrian Airship, but as far as a home-grown flagship goes in a new nation goes, the workmanship was sturdy, and the almost supremely utilitarian craft moving with weight and speed rarely found in Royal airships.

After a long wait, what was once a blurry blip on the horizon became a ship, with the balloon-mast creaking, and the balloon itself taught with hot air. Finally, the keel of the ship brushed against the ground, and a crew of pegasi ponies flew off the deck of the ship in order to lay down the stakes. The long gangplank made it’s way off the edge of the ship and onto the ground, where Twilight and her friends walked in order to greet those disembarking.

“Not bad,” commented Rainbow Dash. “They know how to make ships.”

Looking over the lines of the ship and the construction thereof, Twilight Sparkle nodded her head. While the hull wasn’t lined with an iron shell, like the newest generation of Equestrian airships, it still looked very sturdy, indeed.

Finally, burly minotaurs, ponies, and diamond dogs came off the gangplank carrying parts of a wooden frame, to better secure the ship to the ground in a stable position. The balloon started to deflate, wrinkles rippling down its side as the hot air keeping it up was ventilated.

Suddenly, one creature coming off the ship, weaving between the crew, addressed the Equestrians.

“Princess Sparkle,” said the Sovereign, with a toothy grin. “We really must stop meeting like this.”

Despite herself, Twilight’s eyes widened. The Sovereign of Freytara had certainly changed his dress.

Now wearing a dark long coat with a bright vest beneath, the dark-colored boots stomped down the gangplank, with only really his hands and his shaven face visible. A quick image flashed through Twilight's mind of the last time she met Sovereign, with a radically more monstrous face and a great deal shrunken compared to now. Now... he looked... normal, at the very least.

Twilight smiled. Perhaps the stories she heard of an unstoppable demonic infection were just that. Goodness knows that ever since Princess Celestia tasked her with finding a cure for the Sovereign's condition, it struck Twilight that this was the one thing that Celestia had asked of her in a long time.

There was still so much to know...

"Twilight?"

Blinking, she shook her head and brought herself back to the present, where the Sovereign had knelt down to meet the eyes of the ponies. With a smile, Ty said, "It's... good to see you all again."

Flying up to Ty, an irate Rainbow Dash challenged, "Well, you still owe me for headbutting my belly."

Blinking, Ty raised himself up and rubbed his forehead. With an aside glance at Rainbow Dash, Twilight Sparkle said, "Well, I really wanted to ask you about—"

"How does lunch sound?" asked Ty suddenly. "My treat."

Everyone then looked at Rainbow Dash. With a serious look in her eye, she crossed her forelimbs while hovering midair. Suddenly, she brightened up and replied, "Sure, if you're payin'!"

Shaking her head, Twilight acquiesced to social customs and conceded, "Sure, it doesn't seem like we are in too big of a rush."

With that, they left the bustling of the crew of the Praetor and walked into Ponyville.

Setting the soda bottle down, I rubbed my belly. I let off a noise, then conceded, "I'll have to get a few of these back in Freytara. I think they'll make a big hit."

The light was warm. The cafe was earthly-colored, and the decorations brightly-lit. Banners for some summer festival were strung up between buildings. The food was hot. The drinks were chilled. I could even comfortably sit in this chair with five other ponies around me in this outdoor cafe.

So why was my throat still itching?

Suddenly, I saw Fluttershy in my immediate periphery, who asked, "Um, sorry to change the subject, but... how are you feeling?"

Fidgeting with the bottle, I said, "Better, but not all the way. This thing... it makes me more hungry than I should be, and for... like, people. It's also making my throat constantly itch."

This caused the other ponies at the table, who were previously listening, to look at each other. Then smirk.

Applejack leaned over the table, hoof under her chin, and asked, eyelids lowered, "Yer throat's itchin', sugarcube? I don't think that's because of your little varmints."

"Then what's—" I pondered before my eyes widen and I freeze, my hand rubbing at my neck. No. Impossible.

"No. Impossible." I muttered.

I was nudged, and I turned to see Rarity's patient smile, and she mused, "I'm sure you have a lovely singing voice, darling."

More smiles around. Not so much mischief this time. What is their game?

"No, no, I need this explained," exasperatedly said I, while aggressively tapping an index finger to the table.

Pinkie Pie reared up onto the table, forehooves thumping on wood. She then looked up thoughtfully and explained, "Well, you can't exactly explain it, you just have to do it yourself!"

The other ponies at the table reared up and planted their hooves on the table as well. I turned to Twilight. Surely, that nerdy horse has something to say about this. She, too, had her hooves up.

"Twilight," I pleaded. "Surely you must know how all of this works."

Bobbing her head from side to side, Twilight relayed, "Well, I do. It can wait, though!"

Then, they lightly stamped on the table, creating a slow rhythm. "Wait," I asked. "What would I even sing about?"

"Well," probed Twilight. "What are you thinking about?"

The stomping continued, intensifying my throat itch. Well, hypothesis confirmed. Now what? Maybe I can just sing something from my homeworld?

I put my hands through my hair, and said, "All right, girls. Now where am I to go, me ponies, now where am I to go?”

Well, no, I wasn’t just talking. But... this feeling...

After the Sovereign sang his first lyrics in this world, he heaved. He choked, and he sputtered. Twilight was the first to reach Ty’s side, with words like “Are you okay?” and “Can you hear me?” Others went to Ty’s side, with questions to him and themselves like “Is this the demons?” or “I don’t think humans are allergic to singing, are they?”

To that, Pinkie simply said, “I doubt it!”

Then, they all backed away as Ty vomited black, sizzling goop.

Immediately, the crowd of ponies that were there to witness or even participate in a spontaneous song backed away as the man’s once-healthy skin seemed to struggle against itself, with black veins popping beneath his skin, which itself turned into a color of ghastly white. After a period, the goop that had been chucked onto the table and the grassy floor of the outdoor cafe had disintegrated under the gaze of the sun, and the visual symptoms began to recede, leaving Ty still pale, sweaty, and breathing heavily.

Panting, Ty turned to Twilight with tired eyes. “Twilight”, he gasped. “Write that down.”