Danny, Doctor of the Gods

by Sage Quill

Rating: teen
Tags: Other, Romance, Original Character, Comedy, Adventure, Sex, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Human
Length: 9673

A chess game of the gods fic centering around Daniel Weathers who is transported to Equis by Pelor, god of light and healing to remedy the sick and injured in the growing chaos of the game, and have a blast doing it.

The chaos wrought by Discord when he invited the gods to play in Equestria has not gone unnoticed by Pelor, god of light and healing. He watched in anguish as the denizens of the peaceful world start on the path to war and has decided to stand by no longer, sending his own pawn into the game: The 'bishop' known as Daniel Weathers.

Let's hope he doesn't regret it.

(I'll add character tags when they become relevant)

Published 2013-02-22 18:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-12 11:35:28 UTC

If I Die Can I Be Called 'Danny Phantom'

My breath came in shallow gasps of thinning air as I hiked up one of the many peaks of the Picos de Europa; a mountain range that spanned the northern coast of Spain. Despite the biting cold of the high reaches, sweat dripped into my eyes from under my fleece jacket's hood, and my ruck sack kept biting into my shoulders, reminding me of how many hours I'd been attempting my climb. It didn't bother me though; just a part of the experience.

Honestly, I had no reason to be there other than the sad excuse of getting side tracked from the pilgrimage trail.

What? It's no fun if you always follow the signs, and the snow covered tip of that beast was just calling me.

I was just about to crest the spur leading to my destination when my boot got caught in a small crevice under the snow, and with my cat like reflexes proceeded to fall flat on my face.

"Ow! Okay, what the hell hands! Were you planning on stopping my fall or do you just not care? Seriously, we gotta stick together... Even if we are kinda stuck together already-and holy Christ I better get back to civilization before I find a volleyball ball and really start to lose it." I said, 'it' being my sanity of course.

Once again I was touching on a recurring issue that tends to come from traveling alone for long periods of time. Most people think it's okay to talk to yourself from time to time but my case was becoming just a bit beyond my control.

"I also really have to stop narrating everything I do. I mean that's just not normal," I deadpanned, knowing that it wasn't going to happen.

With a stifled groan I got my hands under me and found some purchase in the form of another nearby fissure and managed to pull my foot out of that bastard of a hole. I winced when I noticed that it wasn't just my face and pride that was hurt, but my ankle as well.

"Ha! Foolish hole thing! You think a sprained ankle can stop Daniel Weathers?!" I yelled indignantly at the offending crevice, "Well you're absolutely right! Time for a break."

I mustered my dignity and hauled myself into a sitting position next to a nearby outcropping of rock. By the time I was settled and had removed my ruck I was ready for some mid-climb entertainment. For me that meant a bag of beef jerky and my iPhone. I scrolled through the menu of the videos app and pulled up the latest installment of the best form of recreational media on the planet; My Little Pony.

"Aaaaawwwwwwww yeeeeeeaaaaaaaah...."

Who do you ask would spend the hellish amount of money on an international data plan with as little dead zone as possible to watch a show about magical ponies? This guy. I figured that an episode of hilarity and a half-quart of water and I'd be good for another round against the Mt. Everast wanna be. At least, that was my assumption after drawing on my vast well of experience in the art of sucking through a long ruck march. The military teaches you these things, and I didn't suffer through five years of it to just up and forget all that 'hooah' crap. So I past the time laughing it up as my favorite equine heroines learned about the magic of friendship in the most painful and hilarious ways possible, downing half my canteen in the process.

By the time I was finished I noted the sun was getting a little too low for comfort. I'd packed for varying weather as the Santa de Compostila pilgrimage passes through multiple countries with differing climates, but spending the night on a snowy ridge at eight thousand feet wasn't what I'd had in mind.

It was with great disappointment that I stood up from my sitting position and faced the path I'd been following up the draw. I was so preoccupied with my sullen mood that I failed to note where the crevice that I'd fallen into had been.

The universe decreed at that point that I should pay for my arrogance by enacting Murphy's Law.

Murphy is a sadistic asshole by the way, and when my foot sank into the snow I found my center of gravity, that I had so confidently set into forward motion, kept going instead of stopping.

Now instead of falling on my face again (something that only happens when you're traveling uphill), I began rolling down the mountain in the most painful fashion fate had decided I'd roll: laterally and head first.

I would have become sick with the sky and earth changing places every second or so if I wasn't busy screaming my head off, or at least trying. The cries came out intermittently, halting abruptly every time my head and back impacted the hard rocky mountain side. It sounded like what you'd expect from a comedy movie only less funny because I was likely falling to my death.

The relief I felt when I was no longer being slammed into solid rock was short lived when I realized that wasn't a good thing. Now it was Newton's turn to deliver a swift kick to my balls, and he wasn't in a good mood that day-then again neither was I so it kinda evened out I guess.

Most kids believe that when you fall off a cliff you catch hang time like in the cartoons, but that is complete bullshit. Immediately after I stopped hitting the ground the gut wrenching feeling of accelerating to the maximum ability of my mass took over and I really did vomit.

The wind ripped by me, forcing me into a wild tumble as the base of the cliff rose to meet my tender, unprepared body with jagged rocks and certain death.

At this point I would have prayed to God if I had been even the slightest bit religious, which I wasn't, but the looming aspect of hitting the ground at terminal velocity was a real motivator.

"Whoever or whatever's out there I would really appreciate it if you could maybe SAVE MY ASS FROM TURNING INTO A RED SMEAR ON THE SCARY ROCKS OF DEATH!"

Nothing...

They say when faced with death, humans tend to find what they regret in life. Surprisingly, I did find somthing I regretted. I'd dreamed of going to med school and becoming a doctor, but I guess that'll never happen... Damnit. I wanted to be the kind of doctor that went to aid struggling third world countries and really make a difference. I'd spent enough time in the army taking from, instead of giving to life. I wanted atonement.

The grey spires of uncaring stone were all that dominated my vision at this point so I closed my eyes to wait for the inevitable, abrupt end to my twenty-six years of life.

...

...

...

"Okay, what the hell! Why am I not dead yet?" I grumbled in agitation, opening my eyes to find inky blackness stretching out in all directions, "Alright, maybe I am dead...huh, this is pretty boring actually."

Flinging my arms forward and grabbing my knees, I started doing flips within the endless void of nothingness. It's not like I had anything better to do.

I continued like this for a second or two before a light became visible in the distance.

"So this is the light at the end of he tunnel thing I hear so much about." I tapped my chin for a moment in thought as I considered the strange glow. "Well unless it's going to come to me I don't see how this is gonna work."

I proved my point with exaggerated swimming motions that, as I predicted, did jack shit besides make me look like a retard. Go figure.

Just as I was about to give up and go back to eternally drifting in an empty expanse of nothing, the light decided it was time to stop teasing me like a catholic girl with a web cam and rocketed toward me. I say 'rocketed' because judging from the rate at which it was growing it had to be flying like a bat out of hell.

It just kept getting bigger, and I started to feel the need to piss myself by the time it filled the entirety of my vision. The sight was similar to watching the sun from a distance that would vaporize most known substances, and I happened to like my substance the way it was; solid.

Despite my reservations the light gave off very little heat. 'Warmth' was the best term to describe it. It was almost... caring.

I coughed nervously at the thought. "I mean manly things-uh-beef jerky, and bear wrestling... Oh, and shark punching! The manliest kind of punching there is."

"DANIEL WEATHERS," came a booming voice that forced me to cover my ears against a verbal onslaught of caps-lock proportions.

"What!?" I yelled back through the leftover ringing of my now nearly deaf ears, "Sorry god-like sun...thing, but I can't hear you over the sound of how LOUD you are!"

"..."

Now it was just pouting. Do god-like sun deities pout?

I thought of Princess Celestia and the answer became abundantly clear.

"Daniel Weathers," it spoke again in a much more amiable volume.

"Yep, that's me. So-ahhh-your sunny-ness to what do I owe the pleasure of your extremely bright company?"

Being a smartass was a natural defense mechanism I had when dealing with things that scare the shit out of me, but the supernova megaphone didn't need to know that.

"I have come, young Daniel, to offer you another chance at life in exchange for your services. My name is Pelor; god of light, strength, traveling, and healing. And I have chosen you to be my bishop in a world that desperately needs the light of goodness to see it through its dark future."

"Really?" I replied skeptically, "Of all the badass heroes you could have chosen you want me? That doesn't invite much confidence in my new patron diety's judgment now does it?"

"..." It was defiantly pouting again.

"I have seen your heart Daniel. You possess both the spirit of a warrior and the gentleness of a healer. It is for these qualities you have been chosen to represent me and carry my favor." It ignored my deflection, showing incredible skill for stage acting to recover from that kind of derailing comment. "I grant you Ajira's Rod, one of the Dawnstar relics to carry out my will. As your actions reflect your soul the secrets of the relic will be revealed, allowing you to access more of its power, but only when it deems you are ready to wield it."

A flash of light erupted from my hand, blinding me for a few seconds before I could feel the texture of metal in my grip. When the spots cleared from my vision the most beautifully crafted mace I'd ever seen was held tightly in my grasp. Its golden metal was shaped into intricately formed fans that resembled stylized sun rays, and silver leaves trailed up the shaft, enlayed into artful designs that depicted the very essence of summer.

For once I couldn't think of something smart to say. The feeling emanating from the golden mace was one of overwhelming awe.

"Lastly, I grant you the body of my oldest friend and faithful steed, Star Thought. The ki-rin are a proud race that serve the greater good through all dark times, may you bring honor to their name through your deeds." Another flash of light, but this one seemed to come from everywhere at once, and when the worst had past I found myself drifting off into a forced slumber.

Just before my eyes closed, a figure emerged from the depths of the fiery corona of light. His beard and hair were shock white and he wore golden robes similar to the mace he'd gifted me. The most prominent feature of this god like being was his eyes. They were a fierce blue that while ageless and fathomless, held a warm kindness in their icy depths.

"I have faith you will bring light to those locked in darkness young cleric."

Peaceful sleep took me as he spoke the last words with calm certainty.

Let the games begin.

Western Shores, Easterly Wind

"What do you think it is?" said a distant voice.

"I dunno, let's poke it," replied another voice, closer than the other.

"Uh, that doesn't seem like a such good idea..." a quieter voice added meekly.

I awoke slowly to a steady pounding in my head, its cadence matching my heartbeat pump for painful pump. The hard abrasion of uneven stone could be felt under me, along with lapping water against my face. As it trickled into my half open mouth I could taste the saltiness that came with sea water. I would've spit it out, but couldn't find the energy to do so, and as the warmth of the day combined with the comforting sounds of ocean going birds and the crashing of waves against rock, I found that I didn't want to. Nature, of course, had other plans.

A particularly ambitious wave decided it was time to outdo its friends by being higher than its peers and poured over my face completely, filling my lungs with seawater. I went into a fit of coughing as I choked on the salty water and was forced to open my eyes only to blind myself by looking at the noon day sun.

"Ow! Damnit, what is it with the sun blinding me recently! Thanks a lot Pe-whatever your name is!" I ranted, flailing around as much as possible to accentuate my point, "Blessings of the sun my ass..." I trailed off as the group of voices let out a collective gasp.

I tried to get my hands under me to pick myself up into a sitting position, but found that my body didn't want to move like I told it to. It felt like I was a turtle on its back; unable to force my center of gravity off my side.

"Sh-should we help it?" the meek one asked, her voice that of a child with the undertones of an accent I couldn't place.

Wait a minute...

"It? Hey kid I know I'm not the handsomest of men, but 'it'? You really know how to kick a guy when he's down," I grumbled, trying again to open my eyes.

They gasped again in surprise, and I heard a clopping sound like wood on stone or a horses hooves. Some small communities in Europe still used horses, but from what I could tell they were far too young to be riding on horseback. They may have had ponies with them, but I dismissed that thought out of hand.

"Sorry mister, it's just that... we've never seen anything like you before," said the closest voice. It was young and boyish while sharing the accent of the other. "We'll help you up in second."

'Anything like me?' I was sure I'd just heard them wrong.

By this time my sight had started to recover enough to pick out shapes and some color, and could make out three distinct blobs of grey moving towards me. Again I heard clopping sounds as they approached me. One of the figures thankfully blotted out the sun as it loomed over my head, offering shade to my agitated eyesight.

With the sun no longer an issue my eyes adjusted quickly, giving what I was seeing more defined shape. I looked into the face of my youthful savior and froze.

...

...

...

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

My sudden screaming caused the tiny zebra to scream as well, which in turn renewed my own cry of terror.

"Holy shit! Talking zebras! Get back, back I say!" I yelled as I scrambled to my feet only to fall backwards and land on my already throbbing skull with a resounding crack.

Two concussions turned out to be too much for my abused head, and I abruptly passed out again, entering once again into blissful unconsciousness.

"Uuuuggghh, my head is killing me..." I groaned as I rejoined the waking world.

'That is the last time I accept cigarettes from an Austrian. Those guys'll put weed in anything,' I promised myself, remembering the pot-bellied pilgrim I'd run into the day before my fateful climb. He'd been a nice enough guy, just too happy, and now I knew why.

Dragging myself from my thoughts, I became aware of the straw mat wrapped around me and the soft pile of hay acting as my mattress. The smell of herbs and cooking fires drew a rumble from my stomach as they wafted through the air.

'How long has it been since I've eaten,' I thought to myself hungrily.

I opened my eyes to find myself in a tent of some kind, a tepee if my guess was correct. Jars and masks were laid out along the walls of the abode, framing the area around a fire pit. Flames cracked from the small branches arrayed below a hanging pot of darkened metal, sending up a grand smelling aroma from the smoke. I heard the voices of the villagers outside going about their daily routines. They must have been gypsies of a sort, though I'd never heard of gypsies using tepees. Then again, one could never truly know all there was to know about gypsies.

'They must have found my unconciousness body and nursed me back to health, though I'd be lucky if they didn't steal anything. Scratch that, I'm lucky to be alive at all after a fall like that.'

"But mother I-" a familiar voice said from outside the tent.

"No means no child. Do you wish to see the villages troubles compiled," a much more mature voice replied as the speaker stepped into the tent.

Choking on whatever greeting I'd planned on saying, I proceeded to hyperventilate as the speaker was revealed to be another talking zebra.

'Okay, I wasn't high, I'm crazy!' I tried to say, but all that came out of my mouth was indecipherable babbling.

In reaction to my freakout the older zebra hurried to where I laid and placed her hooves on my shoulder, holding me down as I began to thrash.

"Please stranger, calm yourself and listen! Seeking to help you is our only mission." she soothed, attempting to calm me down. "While my son and daughters were out to play, they spotted you're body among the waves. So they dragged you all the way to the village and me, hoping for help and my remedies."

My breathing began to slow at her words, even if the rhyming gave me a headache. If I wasn't high at the time, then I'd met a sun deity earlier that day anyway, and if I could stomach that, then talking zebras should've been easy.

'Now that I think about it, don't these zebras look a little familiar...'

The realization hit me like a fifth of tequila on a Saturday night; the stature, the overly large, adorable eyes, the outline for Christ's sake.

"No, nah-uh, nope, no, defiantly not, I refu-NO!" There was no way that I was where I thought I was.

"Stranger please, I am confused, what is it that you refuse?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"No I... You know what, I'm strangely okay with this," I said to no one in particular, calming down from my hysterics as I assessed the situation, "I mean, sure I have no idea where I am, relatively speaking, but I'm not dead, and isn't that what counts?" I looked up at the zebra who still had her hooves on my shoulder, making sure that my thrashing wouldn't damage anything. "I'm afraid I've been terribly rude. I haven't even asked for your name yet."

She shifted her weight off of me with a warm smile, and trotted over to where the blackened pot hung over the fire. "Pay you no mind, my name is Zecarien. Would you give me your own, if you don't mind my asking?"

I was about to tell her my name when a thought occurred to me. Daniel Weathers likely wasn't a name that would be considered normal in Equestria, if that's where I was. The show never really explained if it was a country, or the world the name referred to. Regardless, I had to tell her something. I thought briefly about faking amnesia but that was just unoriginal, and I doubted I could keep up the charade for long anyway.

Then I remembered that Pe-what's his face already gave me a name. It already sounded like a name you'd hear in the show so why not?

"Star Thought... My name is Star Thought." I replied, testing to see if the name clicked. If it did, I would be using it for a while, and I wanted to get comfortable with it.

"Very well, Star Thought. For what purpose have you come to our island, seeking adventure or knowledge widened?" she quarried without glancing away from the brewing pot.

I decided that I would answer her question with rhymes of my own, if only to see her reaction. There weren't many people in modern society who found entertainment in poems, but when you spend your life traveling, the best friends you have are books. Tolkien had always been one of my favorites, and he'd never been above a good poem.

Closing my eyes, I began to concentrate on the words to best describe myself.

"From distant shores and far away lands,
My home is as far as my journey spans;
On leaf, on wind, on stories spun,
Under moon, and sky, and morning sun."

"Little is known, and much is learned,
For knowledge kept is knowledge spurned;
My quest is earnest, my purpose pure,
For what I seek is evils cure."

"One cannot see what lies ahead,
When sun is dark and moon is dead,
But Pelor's light will guide my way,
To gentle heart and evil's bane."

When I finished my eyes opened to find Zecarien looking at me with a slight grin on her face. "There is wisdom in your words young Star Thought, and insights that can never be bought. It is rarely seen in a young life's zest, but now I think it's time you rest."

"Sorry Zecarien, but I think I've rested enough. I actually feel better than usual," I replied as I attempted to stand, finding it easier to do from the pile of hay.

Placing one foot on the ground, I heard a strange sound issuing from the dirt floor, the clop of a horse hoof.

'Well shit...' I thought to myself, 'I should've realized something like this would happen.'

I braced myself for the worst as I looked down at the offending extremity, finding a hoof sticking out from under the straw mat. Taking in a slow breath, I looked over to my stripped savior for answers.

"Zecarien?" She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the question forming on my lips. "What do I look like to you?"

"What you are I do not rightly know, I couldn't even tell if you were friend or foe," she began, looking into my eyes with a piercing gaze, "But if what you look like is what you ask, I believe my eyes are up to the task. A strange mix of pony and dragon you be, kin of both, but somewhere... in between."

'Oh bloody hell, I'm a kirin! Those things were a bitch to kill in Monster Hunter. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure sunny said something about kirins.'

I flipped the mat off myself and gazed at my transformed body with almost morbid curiosity. The golden fur of my back and shoulders contrasted sharply with the shining scales of brighter golden hue running across my underbelly and legs. A dragon like tail moved idly around on the floor, ending in tassel of white fur like the mane that was now finding its way onto my face.

"Oh god, I need some air!" I announced suddenly, managing to get to my hooves, and clumsily made my way to the tent flap.

"Please wait, the treatment is not yet done! Now is no time for frolic and fun!" Zecarien called after me as pushed my way out of the hovel.

Opening the flap, I was greeted with a sprawling village of tents and wooden hovels stretched out along rocky cliffs. The cliffs formed a bay of churning ocean spray and stood roughly a hundred meters above sea level. From where I was I could make out jagged spires of stone at the base of the bay, and my stomach churned at the sight. Falling from a cliff would do that to you.

I kept a good distance from the edge, weaving through startled villagers who leapt out of my way as I moved my uncoordinated hooves in an awkward cadence through the settlement. Some shouted at me when my clumsiness caused them to drop what they were carrying in their haste to clear the path, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. For a reason that escaped me it came out as some form of swahili.

"kuangalia wapi utaenda, mgeni!" an angry looking local yelled as I pushed past him, my larger frame aiding me in my bid to find solitude. Roughly, I was a head taller than the zebras that made up the crowed, and that only seemed to hinder my ability to not bump into everyone I came across. My tail was also an ever present problem as it swished back and forth behind me, tripping the unwary as I made my way to the village gates.

Guards armed with wooden spears blocked my path, speaking in hurried ramblings as I moved between them. I was starting to get used to my new body, and as I moved through the gap left by the guards I broke into a nervous gallop. The wind rushed past me as the cries of the armed zebras faded into the distance, giving me a surge of adrenalin. I'd never felt so free in my life.

The rocky crags made for difficult terrain, and I almost ended up diving face first into the stone several times, but after a few close mishaps I managed to get a feel for my hooves.

Several minutes of steady climbing passed, and as I crested the bay's rise I was met with a glorious view of the open ocean. The pastel colors of sunset framed the shimmering waves as the light refracted off them like glittering shards of glass, bringing to mind all the paintings of such scenes while putting them all to shame at the same time.

I sat down on the outcropping of stone, still warm from the mid-day sun, and let go a contented sigh. So what if I never returned to earth. This world opened up a whole new horizon of possibilities.

'No wars to keep me from exploring new places,' I thought to myself with a degree of satisfaction, 'And ponies! I mean, who would pass that up?'

I looked out at the horizon with growing anticipation of things to come, and thought of another poem to express my situation.

"All who seek home are on journeys,
Not all who wonder are lost;
When one seeks a world without boundaries
Thoughts of family and hearth are the cost.

Through valleys, rivers, and shade,
Over the grass, the rocks, and the clay;
The journeyers home can be found as they roam,
Below the clouds of a summers mid-day."

Smiling, I turned and made my way back down the crags toward the village. If I was going to continue my journey, I needed to get a clear view of where I was, and I knew just the zebra to ask.

Author's Note

Zecarien in pronounced Ze-ca-reen.

Storm Clouds and Suspicion

The trip back down from the rocky cairn wasn't as filled with the same spiritual high as my vigil at the peak, but it hadn't left me completely. Its afterglow still followed my hoofsteps as I made my way down the rise, tingling in the back of my mind with promises of a bright future. I'd done a lot of things and seen a lot of places in my short life, but nothing could compare to the feeling of freedom that came with an entirely new world.

As I moved steadily back to the village along the ocean cliffs I found I had a good view inland. Palms and tropical ferns made up the tree line of a jungle that spread over the landscape, halting abruptly at the sharp incline of a volcanic mountain at the center of the island. Dark clouds gathered at its peak. I wasn't a meteorologist but those clouds looked like thunderheads coming in from the east (though who could say whether or not the sun set in the west in Equestria), and they didn't look like light summer rains.

I picked up my pace, not wanting to get caught in the open when the storm arrived. I made good time and was at the gate in a matter of minutes. Two guards stood watch with their wooden spears, glowering at me as I approached.

I put on an apologetic smile. "Hey, guys! Uh, sorry about earlier. I just really needed some 'me' time..." They didn't reply and eyed me suspiciously as I passed. At least they didn't try to bar my way or gut me with their pointy sticks. That would have been awkward, and frankly, I wasn't very confident in my ability to defend myself at the moment, being in an unfamiliar body and all. "Well, keep up the good work boys." They grunted in response, probably not understanding a word I said judging by the shouts I'd received earlier.

The village wasn't as crowded as it had been during my departure. Most likely, the villagers were bunkering down in perpetration of the coming storm. Canvas flaps had been drawn over the holes at the top of tepees, and the smoke of cooking fires bellowed out from under them as families began warming their tents for the cold night ahead.

Below the cliffs of the sea wall ocean waters churned more violently, turning the muted green color that often came before harsh weather.

I moved with greater haste as I attempted to retrace my steps back to Zecarien's tent, but that soon proved a difficult task amid the forest of very similar looking tepees. The first drops of rain started to fall when I heard a familiar voice call to me. "Mister! Mister Star Thought, over here!"

The voice belonged to the zebra foal who was with Zecarien when I'd awoken. I noticed she didn't have a glyph mark like her mother, and I wondered for a moment if they were similar to cutie marks for zebras. She trotted hurriedly toward me just as the rain started falling in sheets, its sudden fury soaking me to the bone almost instantly. High above, the dark clouds crackled and roared with thunder. Lightning jumped through the sky like luminous spider webs. The foal froze and huddled in fear as the loud cracks of lightning lanced toward the earth somewhere close to the village. It must have been instinctual. Like ponies, most mammals naturally feared loud noises and sought shelter from storms before they came. Personally I liked rough weather. It was like a challenge to overcome, and I reveled in it.

She called out again, her voice shaky with fear. "M-mister S-star Thought, mother asked me t-to come f-find you and bring you b-back." She was rooted in place so I went to her instead. I laid down in front of her with my hooves around her sides and crooned my head down so my neck rubbed against her cheek. It was the closest gesture to a hug I could offer in my new form.

"Shhhhhh, it's okay kid," I cooed gently, "We'll go back together. I won't let any of the mean old lightning hurt you, I swear."

What? I had a soft spot for children so sue me.

The foal calmed down and stopped shaking. I lifted my head, and she looked at me with huge puppy dog eyes that should've been illegal they were so freakin' adorable. "You promise?" she asked with a pout that nearly gave me diabetes.

I got back to my hooves and performed the ludicrous gestures that made up the most solemn promise in Equestria. "Cross my heart and hope to fly. Stick a cupcake in my eye," I recited, going so far as to actually shove my hoof into my eye socket, "Ow! How does she do that without going blind!?" In response to my display the foal giggled and stood up as well. It was then I realized then how tiny she was. Hell, she barely came up to my knees. I thought it best to get out of the storm as quickly as possible before a stiff wind carried her away.

We trotted along the slick granite slabs that the village sat upon, moving through the mass of tents and wooden hovels. At times she would pass under me and disappear, reappearing on the other side of me moments later. She would laugh when I glanced over to check on her to find she wasn't there anymore, causing me to look around frantically only to find her right next to me on the opposite side. I gave her a smirk in response to her shinanagans. Kids would be kids after all.

A short time after we set off I began asking her about herself. "So what's your name kid, and while we're on the subject why can I understand you and your mom? The other villagers seem to speak a language I can't make heads or tails of."

She beamed up at me. "I'm Zala," the kid chirped excitedly, "My mother has me and my brothers practicing Equish so we can read our sister's letters. When it's just us we don't speak Zebracan." She spoke like the reason was completely obvious and required no further explanation.

The wind was starting to really pick up. "Uh-huh, ok I can buy that, but-" I halted abruptly as a rogue thought occurred to me, "-wait! Hey Zala, what's your sister's name?"

"Zecora," she said matter-of-factly, "She's a shaman in training. She traveled to Equestria to undertake her trial. Mother says that a shaman leaving the island to complete their training isn't common though."

I blinked a few times before I burst out laughing. "No freaking way! Your sister is Zecora? The Zecora?" I laughed so hard I couldn't tell if my eyesight was obscured by the rain or my own tears.

Zala looked up at me with hopeful eyes. "You know my sister?"

"Sorry kid, I don't know her, but I know of her," I replied, reigning in my amusement, "She's pretty famous in certain circles."

Zala looked about to respond when lightning rent the sky again followed by a deafening boom of thunder. She flinched and trotted closer to me, the interruption completely derailing the conversation as she clammed up with nervous tension. She kept so close that I had to pay special attention so as not to trip over her.

"Zala!" a voice cried out over the storm. "Where are you munchkin?!"

It called out again, and the kid's ears pirked up. "Dusk! We're here!" she answered back, breaking into a gallop toward the source. I almost tripped over breaks in the granite slabs, but I managed to pace her through the blinding sheets of rain. It helped that keeping Zala in sight effectively meant keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me.

The warm glow of a fire from an open tent flap became visibly through the haze. As we drew closer I could see a figure standing next to the tent sillueted by the hearth's light.

The pegasus mare stood straight and proud against the buffeting gusts of wind, uncaring of the drenching torrents the storm loosed. Her deep blue coat and charcoal mane made details hard to pick out as the sky darkened and night settled in behind the storm, but there was something in her gaze that was both familiar and unsettling. I suppressed a chill trying to claw its way up my spine.

Zala almost bowled her over with a flying tackle of a hug. "Dusk! You came to back!" The pegasus managed to pry the kid from her neck and set her down with an amused look. "Have you come back to live with us?"

Dusk lowered her head and nuzzled the kid. "Sorry munchkin, just visiting your mom for supplies." Her mane covered half her face and was cropped short, ending just passed her muzzle. She looked up sharply with her one visible eye, leering at me like a wolf does at something that's invaded her territory. I recognized the intent behind her gaze. She was looking for weaknesses, and how she might exploit them. "Is this the stray she's been taking care of?" The question wasn't directed at the kid.

"The name's Star Thought," I said in a low tone. I didn't want to come off as rude, but when someon-er-somepony looks at you like that you have to return it, or you'll never be seen as an equal. So I did. The best way to give a good icy stare is to think of the worst memories of your life. Mine was in the rocky mountains of Afghanistan, surrounded and outnumbered. Exhausting, terrifying days of nonstop fighting followed by sleepless nights filled with hallucinations of the enemy closing in around us. Shadows moved through the trees soundlessly as I kept watch next to the body bag of a friend who's only fault was being unlucky. Sometimes I could hear him breathing even though he was already dead. I took in all of the horrors I'd witnessed until it left me feeling emotionally numb and turned her cold gaze back on her with all the intensity I could muster, forcing my body to become absolutely still.

Her eye twitched, but she didn't look away, and I realized why her gaze was so familiar. She'd seen death. Not a relative passing away in a hospital bed kind of death, but violent murder. In the seemingly peaceful land of Equestria this pegasus had willfully ended life. The idea that such a thing even happened here was far more unsettling than the emptiness reflected in her eye.

A shadow appeared in the tent's entry, bringing our staring contest to a close. "Dear me child, you had me sick with worry. If a storm is coming through you should come home in a hurry." Zecarien bent down to nuzzle the kid before prompting her inside with a hoof. "Now hurry inside and get warm by the fire. I'll handle our guests as I'm sure they must be tired."

Zala seemed about to argue, but a firm look from her mother cut her short. "Yes mother." She sighed and shuffled passed the older zebra into the tent.

Zecarien smiled after the kid and returned her attention to Dusk and I. "Miss Dusk, I'll have those supplies ready as soon as I can. Would you like to spend the night and rest for a span."

She looked like she would refuse before glancing over at me again. "Thanks Zecarien, I'd love to." The zebra bowed and gestured for her to enter. Dusk brushed her hoof against the tent flap and went inside, but not before shooting me another glare over her shoulder.

Zecarien waited until Dusk was gone and cocked an eyebrow at me, her expression one of wry amusement. "You have a strange method of making friends. Especially when you are still on the mend." She must've noticed the look Dusk had given me. I snorted and tried to unload a wiseass comment about my luck with women, but she cut me off with a wave of her hoof. "I have no time for you to speak. At least until your treatment is complete." It must have been a little revenge for rushing out like I did earlier, but I just smiled and nodded.

The first thing I realized when I got inside was how cold it was outside. I hadn't noticed while I was out there, but I was damned near freezing. Zala held her hooves over the cooking fire in the center of the floor and made a sound of contentment while her brothers had a competition of 'who could get closer to the fire without getting burned' going. Dusk laid on a wicker mat at the far side of the domicile, eyeing me suspiciously while Zecarien moved to the cooking pot over the hearth and began chopping up vegetables for what smelled like a soup of some kind. I found an open mat near the fire next to Zala and laid down.

The warmth from the hearth almost made me pass out as soon as my head reached the ground, but Dusk had other plans. "So, Star Thought." She almost growled the name. "Where are you from? I don't think I've ever seen a creature like you."

The question was innocent enough, but the underlining thought behind it was: 'What are you doing here, freak?'. I decided the best way to annoy her was to be terse but candid. "I'm a Kirin. I'm not from here. I washed up on the shore today, and I have no idea how I got here." All truth but nothing to go off of. 'Take that bitch!'

Her expression remained polite, but her eye was smoldering. I'd answered her question but given her no usable information, and she knew it was on purpose. She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth and looked away. It was an obvious tell of frustration.

Zala stirred next to me. "Oh, are we asking questions now!?" she queried excitedly, "Can you use magic!? I mean, you have a horn, so you're like a unicorn right?"

'Oh right, Kirins do have horns.' I resisted the urge to face-hoof. I'd completely forgotten about that, but in my defense, I couldn't even see it when I looked up, so how was I to know? "Uh..." I thought hurriedly to come up with an answer that wouldn't tempt the kid to ask me to perform magic since I had no idea how to. Out of the corner of my vision I noticed Dusk had taken an unhealthy interest in the question, or more likely my slow response. "I don't know," I answered honestly, "I've never seen another Kirin besides me, so I've never had anyone to teach me how." It was the best kind of lie. The truth, but one they would misinterpret.

I felt a weight against my side and found Zala pressing up against me with a remorseful look on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sad..." she trailed off for a moment, "Sister Zecora wrote in her letters how lonely it was being the only zebra in her new village." She didn't look like she knew what else to say. "I'm sorry..."

Now I felt like a real bastard. She looked up at me with tearful eyes like she was about to cry, and it broke through whatever pitiful emotional barriers I erected with little effort. "Oh, I couldn't be angry at you if I tried kid. There's nothing to forgive." I said, attempting to keep the guilt out of my voice. Across the tent Dusk shifted uncomfortably and resumed her silent vigil.

Outside, the storm raged on, battering the sea wall protecting the village with violent gales and splitting the sky with quaking thunderclaps. Inside, the air was filled with the smell of freshly cooked food and the sound of children's laughter as we shared a meal together. It was nice. I hadn't shared a meal with my family in years, and I'd nearly forgotten how good it felt. Even Dusk settled into the atmosphere, not quite smiling but content, and with only a few wary glances in my direction.

After dinner, Zecarien pulled blankets out of a basket near the back of the tent for everypony, and doused the cooking fire. The kids were the first ones asleep, snoring softly against the noise of the storm. I pulled the blanket over myself and laid down on the same mat I'd been using for dinner. Across the domicile I saw a flash of green against the dying embers of the hearth. Dusk was watching me from her mat in the dark. I rolled over, away from her prying glare and towards the unlit side of the tent, concentrating on the cadence of the rain pelting against the canvass walls. I fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of the one part of my life I wish I could forget.

Deepening Storm

Have you ever woken up in a panic? If you have, then you know how everything seems to blend together. Sights and sounds mix together with your dreams, or in my case, nightmares.

Whizzes and cracks of incoming rounds were broken up by the shouted commands from my superiors. I scrambled out from under my blanket, groping around blindly for my M4. Instead of feeling the ground with shaking fingers, my hooves clopped dumbly across hard rock. The pissed-off shouts of NCOs became screaming as my focus sharpened back to reality, my brain listing off facts to quicken the process. I'm in the body of a Kirin, so no hands. I'm in Equestria not Afghanistan, so no weapon. And people don't scream like that without a damn good reason.

A blanket covered form across the dark tent shot up, throwing the covering off with a shake as I rose to my hooves. Dusk's wings flared as she cast alert glances from one side of the tent to the other, taking stock of her surroundings with startling professionalism. Her eye found me. "You! What did-?" Her question was cut off by another shrill scream from somewhere in the village.

Around us, Zecarien and her family stirred awake. "By all that is good and bright, what is the meaning of this clatter so late at night?" More like, how did she come up with a rhyme out of a dead sleep? I felt a pressure on my foreleg. Looking down, I found Zala's small silhouette shaking as she huddled against me. Poor kid. She was already afraid of lightning, but combined with the dark and the sounds of panicked adults her fear was quickly becoming terror.

Shouts of alarm went out across the sleepy village, but they were indistinct against the backdrop of the raging storm. The villagers might have been trying to organize, but the confusion would be complete with no way to light their torches in the rain. Nothing leads to a cluster' quite like a mob in the dark.

Zecarien sparked the cooking fire back to life with a pair of flints and quickly gathered her foals, casting wary glances out the tent flap as more cries of alarm went up from around the village. She had to practically pry Zala off my leg.

As I watched her take up a wooden spear hanging from a pair of clasps on the tent wall I became abundantly aware of something sharp pressed against my neck. "Don't move," came Dusk's voice from my right. I looked down, careful not to move my head in the process. Dusk held a knife in her mouth and had it placed just under my jaw. It was a curved blade and well worn, but it looked recently sharpened. She'd used this knife a lot judging from the small line of rust where the blade and hilt met. "What is the meaning of this?" she asked slowly, annunciating each word sharply. They were edged with an unspoken threat.

I tried to keep myself from swallowing. "Would you believe me if I said I had no idea what you're talking about?"

Dusk weaved her foreleg behind my hoof, and with a jerk, threw me off balance and onto my back. Before I could recover she was on me, locking her legs around mine so I couldn't move. She pressed the curve of her knife to my throat again. From the other side of the tent I heard Zecarien gasp in surprise. "You expect me to believe that?" Dusk growled.

I put on the most innocent look I could manage. "Well...yeah," I said lamely, "Look, I have no idea what's going on, but if you let me up I can help you find out. How's that sound?"

"Like a trap," she replied without skipping a beat, pressing the knife a little harder into my throat, "Safer if I just kill you now." Wow. Okay, I had to admit, I wasn't expecting her to play the safe and sociopathic paranoia route.

The pressure of her knife increased to the point that I thought she was trying to strangle me instead of slit my throat. I coughed and choked for breath, panicking as my body struggled for air. The look in her eye went from cold determination to alarm and confusion as one of my legs worked free from her hold. I lashed out, planting my hoof in her stomach and kicked away with everything I had. Which was apparently a lot considering I was almost twice her mass. Dusk caught five feet of air time before smashing into the chest Zecarien had procured our blankets from.

"Oh yeah... take that... you psychopath," I managed between gasps of air, "You was talkin'... all that good shit... a moment ago... then you got kicked in yo' chest!" Okay, so I gloated a little. A near death experience makes you do and say all kinds of crazy things.

The remains of the chest stirred as Dusk drew herself back to her hooves with a groan. Her mane was a mess thanks to the scuffle and revealed a simple black eye patch covering her normally concealed eye. Her other eye however, fixed me with a look that could kill lesser men. Thank god I'm a smidge above mediocre.

It also didn't help that despite the murder in her eye she was still an adorable pony and half my size. "I guess being part freak does more than make you ridiculously tall," she hissed, sparring a look at the now marred blade of her knife and glaring at the offending scales running down my throat and underbelly.

I circled away from the fire, not taking my eyes off Dusk for a second. If my hunch was correct, a second would be all she'd need, and I sincerely doubted she'd make the mistake of targeting any area on my body protected by scales again. "Yeah, I guess it does," I whispered to myself, taking note that learning what my new body was capable of was top priority in my down time. Hell, I had a horn. Maybe if I worked at it I'd be able to get some magic up and running.

My daydreams about spells and life beyond the current crisis were cut short by Dusk closing the distance between us in a sudden gallop, the knife brandished between her teeth. Now, I'm no slouch when it comes to fighting. Sure, I didn't know squat about fighting intelligent quadrupeds, and I didn't know any fancy martial arts beyond what I'd seen in movies or the basics taught to every soldier, but I'd gotten into my share of bar fights before I swore off drinking. More than one fight had involved some yahoo with a knife and too much liquid courage. Dusk might not have been a plastered punk but the basics applied, which was get the hell out of the way before I got stabbed.

I threw my hindquarters to the left as hard as I could and let the weight carry my front end with it. Dusk flew past me in a flurry of cuts and jabs, nicking my cheek with the blade. I struggled to keep my hooves below me and landed behind her in a ready-ish stance. Being a quadruped didn't do much for fundamental abilities like turning, but Dusk made it look easy as she leapt into the air and planted her hooves on one of the tent's wooden supports, launching herself back in my direction. Once again she passed by in a near miss, leaving a line of red from the end of my eye to my ear.

I huffed and fixed her with a look of mild irritation to cover up my rising panic. She was damn good with that knife. "Okay, you... uh..." I floundered, trying to accurately describe my assailant, "...Adorable, homicidal cyclops. That tares it! Just because your visually challenged doesn't mean you need to dish out involuntary optical surgery! Hell, I like seeing things--it's one of my skills!"

"By the Sisters, do you ever shut up!?" Surprisingly, she flipped the knife with her tongue as she spoke. And I thought I was talented.

It took a very tangible effort not to respond with a smartass remark as my reply would have gone along the lines of, 'I'll stop talking when I'm dead,' and I didn't think she needed more motivation to kill me. Instead, I changed things up a little and charged her before she could get the chance herself. This was a great idea until Zecarien decided enough was enough and darted out of the corner she was sheltering her foals in, spear in hoof. I only got half-way to Dusk before I skidded to a halt, finding her spear leveled at my eye. "Seriously, what is it with you peo-uh-equines and trying to poke my damn eye out!"

My rant was about to pick up speed until a look from Zecarien stopped it like a car hitting a brick wall. That zebra could give the drill sergeants back home a run for their money.

"What? She started it!" The pony in question spat at me in response. "Oh, come on! That's just gross."

"Enough!" Zecarien shouted, changing her spear's target between the Dusk and myself as she spoke. "The both of you are acting like foals. Now calm yourselves and show some self-control."

"Okay, I don't know where you've been, but she's the one trying to kill me! I'm just trying to defend myself," I shot back without taking my eyes off Dusk.

She looked like she'd like nothing more than to wear my entrails as trophies. Pleasant...

"Dusk, you are the one who shouted of lies and spies. I believe it's time for you to apologize."

Dusk growled under her breath, making it clear she would do no such thing. "You expect me to believe the village being attacked the same night he shows up is nothing but a coincidence?! That's crap!" She turned her glare back to me. "Now tell me the truth! What's your role in this?!"

"Listen sweetheart, I'm just as in the dark on this one as you!" I fumed in frustration, unable to do much more with a spear pointed at my eye socket. "And if you're so determined to find fault with someone, why don't we go outside and actually take a look at what's going on?!"

I was so caught up in my outburst I didn't even notice my slip up with the word 'someone', but at that point I wouldn't have cared anyway. That colorful horse was being a grade-a bitch.

Zecarien looked to Dusk appraisingly. "his idea is both fair and sound. Maybe you both should go outside and have a look around."

"And please, for the love of all things good and holy stop with the rhyming. I suspect this morning's gonna be enough of a hassle without a headache tacked on," I grumbled irritably. Don't get me wrong, I loved poems and such, but having someone speak purely in rhyme was enough to give Dr. Seuss a migraine.

She looked about to reprimand me, but Dusk cut her off. "Fine. We'll do this your way, freak-for now. But the second I think you're setting me up you'll find a knife buried somewhere your little scales won't protect you."

"That's fine by me. I've got nothin' to hide," I said, glad that the topic of my murder was being put aside for the moment. "Now let's get out there and see just how screwed we really are."

She looked enraged at my delicate wording of the situation but the look was quickly replaced with worry as she glanced over at the foals still huddled in the corner.

"Stay with your family, Zecarien. You've been a good friend to me over the years and I aim to repay that in kind," Dusk said in a way that almost made me forget she'd just tried to kill me. Almost. She looked back to me skeptically and gave a derisive snort. "Alright! Come on, you. Let's get this over with-and no funny business, or I'll rip out your heart and feed it to you."

"Has anypony ever told you you're a downright gem to be around," I replied sarcastically, "But yeah, let's get this over with."

With a 'good luck' from Zecarien I made my way out of the tent with Dusk close on my heel, and into the oppressive darkness of the pre-dawn storm to find the source of the screaming. Needless to say, this wasn't the greatest of ideas.