In The Doghouse

Emperor Dorgath Forge sat upon his throne of obsidian, the deep black in complete contrast to the pure white of his coat. No pillow or cushion nor fabric rested on the throne, just the cold, hard stone. Armrests that had once been unmarred were gouged by centuries of claws gripping and digging into the stone in anger or fear. It was a cold throne, cold as the Mastiff’s visage.

He stared down at the fidgeting, spectacled Corgi in his purple robes, a table laid in front of him, covered with opened scrolls and books. The tiny dog gripped a staff tightly in one paw, the knuckles under the fur turning white. He refused to meet the Emperor’s gaze.

“So the phenomenon has stopped? Completely?”

With a swallow the Corgi replied. “Yes, your majesty. All the sensor towers are recording normal readings of magic for a city and normal amounts of Dogs-Boson particles in the air.”

“What’s this about a sudden increase in magic before it stopped?”

“Well, at around eleven last night, the amount of magic and gravity particles in the air increased significantly, by around three hundred percent. Instead of it being spread around the city it localized in the west district in a middle class area. We can tell that whatever it was happened within a five block radius of a tavern called the Granite Rock. Guards checked over the area but found nothing,” Sapphire said, voice quivering.

“Were there any witnesses?” asked the Emperor, his deep, gravelly voice echoing in the chamber.

Professor Sapphire shook his head. “I’m afraid not. We questioned patrons at the pub, but none of them saw anything out of the ordinary. Mages scanned the streets, but there weren’t any signs of high concentrations of magic anywhere.”

Dorgath lifted his paws and interlaced the fingers, resting his chin upon them. Cold, calculating eyes bored into the professor, who looked ready to pee himself. One could practically smell the fear.

“Any connection with zebra magic?”

“None.” The Corgi adjusted the glasses on his nose. “Zebra magic is mostly done through potions, alchemy, or by use of the astral planes. Our scholars don’t know of any way for their flavor of magic to be used in such a way that it was last night, but we can’t rule that out. What we do know is that griffon magic isn’t powerful enough to create an affect like this. Unless the griffons are in possession of a very powerful artifact, there isn’t any way for them to pull it off.”

The Emperor let a sigh escape his lips, clenching his paws together in frustration. These last few weeks had been incredibly stressful. Issue after issue had been laid before him. The economy in the northwest of the country had hit a snag, and there was the looming threat of a recession. Squabbles between noble houses had seemingly increased overnight, their petty arguments over land and honor were becoming more troublesome, and there was a whisper that the Duke of Stonewall had been adding more and more troops to his forces, indicating a coup or secession. Negotiations with the buffalo had fallen flat, and the settlers of Appleloosa would probably be driven out within the next week. All that combined with mysterious spells and the possibility of an invasion by griffons made for a pretty stressful job.

“You may leave, Professor Sapphire. I’ll call upon you again,” Dorgath spoke, voice carrying with it the authority of a nation. He watched as the mage bowed and scraped, hastily gathering his materials in a field of dull, grey telekinesis and turning, scrambling down the large hall and to the tall, black double doors that served as the main entrance to the throne room. Dorgath barked a short command to the two guards standing on either side of the throne. Both gave short, stiff military bows and followed after the professor, dark metal armor clanking as they walked. All three exited at the same time, the doors closing after them.

He was alone. It was a fitting place, really, to be alone. The throne room had little decorations, just suits of armor from the eras gone by set in alcoves in the walls. An eternal chill permeated the air, and it was impossible to warm it. That was what the manticore pelt the Emperor wore as a cloak was made for. Bleak stone, cold, and isolation. Such was the life of a ruler.

Dorgath rose from his throne, his full height of twelve feet hidden while he sat. A hulking dog he was, with muscles larger than thicker than had ever been seen before. A scar or two ran along his chest, marks from duels and conflicts covered by the simple black shirt and chainmail he wore. He turned and walked to the side of his throne kneeling down on his knee. Bracing against the floor he placed both paws on the block of obsidian and pushed. Muscles strained and heaved, and the hall was soon filled with a scraping sound. Sliding out of the way the throne revealed a doorway with a staircase, leading down into shadow.

Walking down the curving staircase, the Emperor channeled some magic into his paw, forming it into an orb of light that hung by his head, casting eerie shadows against the walls. Down, down, and down he went, minutes passing by in a dreary, oppressive silence. One could almost think that the stairs went on forever, leading to the very depths of the earth,

Soon the stairs leveled out into a short hallway. Sitting on the other end was a door. No handle or latch was visible, and its entirety was engraved with runes that glowed with a bright, sinister red. Any student of magic knew that they were all sealing runes, and not made to keep something out, but the kind made to keep something in. Dorgath placed his paw over the door and formed the spell. The door was simple to unlock if you knew the correct code for the runes. Doubt flashed in the mind of the Emperor. He had only visited the succubus once, and that had been with his sire and grandsire beside him. He wondered if he should even beseech the thing’s help. Dorgath could simply turn and walk back up those stairs and forget he was ever down here. But no, right now information was needed, and the succubus would have it.

A creak of rusty, unused hinges signaled the opening of the door. It swung to the side, pure, tenebrous darkness beyond. Even the light of the orb couldn’t penetrate it. Stepping forward Dorgath entered, searching for any sign of the creature. There wasn’t any noise or sign that something was inside. A fool might think the succubus dead, but the Emperor knew better.

“Well well well. If it isn’t Dorgath, the Emperor himself. I haven’t seen you for over twenty years. How has life been treating you?” The voice was feminine and silky, the voice of a beautiful female.

“I don’t have time for your games, Chrysalis. Show yourself!”

The darkness quaked like a living, breathing thing and pulled back toward the center of the room. Torches that had been hidden by the shadow showed themselves, lighting up with a sickly green flame. Coagulating into a single mass, the shadow took a shape. It was tall, about chest level to the Emperor, and looked to be an insect. Black chitin took the place of fur or skin. A mane of light blue something came down from the head to its back, long and unkempt. Slender legs ended in hooves with holes throughout. Twin fangs jutted from the mouth, and the head had a long, twisted horn sticking from the top. Diaphanous wings twitched feebly. It lay on the stone floor, several glowing chains wrapped around its body, pinning the legs to the ground. A collar inscribed with runes circled her neck, pulsating and giving off a low hum.

“You’re no fun, Dorgath,” Chrysalis said, smirking at the dog. “Your grandfather would at least put up with my antics now and again. He was the only Forge that I could actually consider to be a friend.”

“The only reason you would want a friend is so you can devour them,” snarled the Emperor.

Chrysalis chuckled. “Such delicious anger. Now tell me why you’ve come to beseech my aid. I already have a pretty good idea myself. The fear and uncertainty of your guards is quite easy to feel, even from all the way down here.”

“Even though I was warned to never use your power,” said Dorgath, “It seems that I must. Lately there has been a strange phenomenon around the city, a buildup of magic that is completely unnatural. Last night the magic focused on a single area of the city and then vanished. I believe that something arrived in the middle of the city, and I want to find out what.”

The bug gave a smile. “I get to go outside? This will be delightful! I haven’t seen the sun for over a century. So I assume that you want me to find what came to the city, if something did?”

Dorgath grimaced and nodded. “Yes. I give you three days. Find out what and where it is, but don’t capture it. Contact me and I’ll deal with it from there.”

“I assume that the conditions are the usual ones? No feeding directly off a sapient being unless I have permission, only eat ambient emotions, no killing unless I absolutely have to et cetera,” she said.

“Yes. By the name of the Forge family I, Dorgath Forge, command Chrysalis to carry out my bidding.” As he spoke the words the chains surrounding the creature shook and fell off. She stood up and stretched, joints that hadn’t been moved for years popping and cracking. Her horn lit with a green aura and she was gone, no trace of her presence visible.

Dorgath lifted a paw to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hoped that he made the right decision.

***

Nokto stared down at his work. On his floor was a circle written in chalk, runes and symbols littering the inside and outside. A pentagram had been dawn within. He had checked and double-checked each and every letter, and everything appeared to be correct. Runes didn’t have any magical power themselves, but they could be used to help focus and bend magic in ways that it would be impossible to otherwise. A mage had to place significance to a symbol, a letter, or a word himself, and then use those to craft a spell. After many thousands of years, however, certain symbols had become standard, and after dozens of mages had placed the same significance to the same symbols the meaning had stuck, and now all basic runes used in spellcraft had a permanent meaning.

Lying in the middle of the circle was the unicorn, the bump on her head from where Nokto had punched her swelling slightly. Truth be told he felt a twinge of guilt for hitting the poor thing, but her behavior was that of a crazy dog, and Nokto had done what he thought was best. Immediately the Diamond Dog had checked her over for brain damage, and was relieved to find none. Afterwards he had placed a sleep spell to keep her from waking up. The procedure would work best while she was unconscious.

Taking a deep breath, Nokto pointed his staff at the circle and channeled magic into the very tip. Runes illuminated the room and became nearly as bright as the sun. A beam of thick, pure energy smashed into the circle, the power transferring to the spell matrix on the floor. Nokto then put all knowledge of the Doggish language he could into the spell. The alphabet, basic words, grammar, anything that he could think of raced from his mind and into the spell. Chalk runes lifted into the air and snaked to the body of the unicorn, slithering over her before converging on the horn. With a sound not unlike a drain being unclogged, the runes poured into Twilight’s horn, making the unicorn twitch in her sleep. Then it was done, leaving an empty chalk circle, a sleeping unicorn, and an exhausted Diamond Dog, panting for breath and supporting himself with the staff.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Twilight stirred, sitting up on the floor and rubbing her eyes. In perfect, if accented, Doggish she spoke.

“Spike, can you put some coffee on? I just had the weirdest dream. There was a Diamond Dog, and he wore an apron kind of like yours, and he…” she trailed off, spying Nokto looking at her. “That wasn’t a dream, was it?”

The Diamond Dog shook his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

A momentary pause. “How am I speaking your language?”

Twilight spoke a few more words. They felt foreign and strange on her tongue, and she hadn’t ever heard them before, yet she understood their meaning.

“I used a spell that transferred my knowledge of Doggish into you while you were knocked out. I thought it would make it easier to communicate,” Nokto explained.

“That does make sense, and it sounds like a very useful spell. Could you… Wait, you knocked me out, didn’t you!” Twilight said, shouting the last part and pointing an accusatory hoof at Nokto.

The Diamond Dog shrugged. “I had to. You were acting crazy.”

“Crazy? Wait, don’t tell me. My hair went out of place, I grew a creepy smile, and my pupils shrunk, right?” Twilight replied.

“Uh, yeah. That’s exactly what happened.”

The mare averted her eyes to the floor and scuffed her hoof, a blush peeking through her lavender fur. “Sorry about that. Sometimes when I encounter things that don’t make sense I go a bit overboard.”

“A bit?” Nokto asked with a smirk.

Twilight scowled at him before a look of confusion overtook her face. “Can I still speak my native language?”

“You should,” Nokto said, “unless I accidentally overwrote all of your previous knowledge, which my spell shouldn’t have done.”

Twilight screwed up her face and stuck her tongue out in concentration. Around five seconds passed before she started speaking, this time in the unintelligible gibberish that Nokto had heard when he first met the mare. The unicorn’s face brightened up at the discovery.

‘I guess I can still speak it. Anyway, where exactly am I?” Twilight asked.

“Well,” Nokto started, “you’re in my house, which sits just outside Senpaga, the capital city of the Second Diamond Dog Empire.”

The mare tilted her head to the side. “I didn’t know that Diamond Dogs had an empire. The dogs that I’ve encountered weren’t very intelligent and had no civilization to speak of.”

“Wait wait wait. You’ve met Diamond Dogs before?” Nokto asked in confusion.

“Yeah, only like I said, they weren’t very intelligent, and they tried to force my friend Rarity to find gems for them. That’s why I was scared when I first saw you. For as long as we’ve known, Diamond Dogs have been brutes. I’m just surprised that they managed to create a civilization, let alone an empire. Not to mention your use of magic.”

“I always thought that all the Diamond Dog tribes had made their way north and settled around here. Guess we were wrong,” Nokto said. Then with a chuckle he added “And I guess we were wrong about ponies being extinct.”

“What do you mean extinct?”