Chapters Pain. All of Twilight’s senses registered pain. Dull, throbbing pain ran from the very tip of her horn down to her hooves. Every single facet of her body felt as though it had been put through a meat grinder or run over by a carriage. Her throat felt like sandpaper heated over a stove, and her tongue was swollen and had the consistency of a cotton ball. Twilight’s eyes were closed and her mind was fuzzy and clouded. What had happened? Her brother’s wedding, the reception, the wine…
Twilight’s eyes opened as she fully awoke, but she closed them just as fast. A bright light had landed right on her face. The mare groaned and slowly sat up on the bed.
Wait. Bed?
Every so slowly she opened her eyes, wincing when the light contacted her pupils. Lances of pain dove through her horn and back of her head. A minute passed before the unicorn could open her eyes fully, and she instantly became curious as to what she saw.
Twilight was sitting on a bed, quite a large bed, too. It was much too big to belong to a pony, unless they were rich. It was nearly twice her body length and very wide. Plush white sheets covered what she assumed to be a feather mattress, judging by the softness. Turning around she saw a pillow and a simple oak headboard, placed up against a wall. Lying on top of her was a thick blue comforter; simple, but warm.
The mare’s eyes scanned over her surroundings, brain processing the interesting room she was in. It was, just like the bed, large. To her left was a nightstand, about the height of the bed, carved from some dark wood. Sitting on the stand was an old-fashioned oil lamp, the metal colored a soft and soothing bronze. Past the nightstand was a dresser, taller than anything a pony would need, with the exception of Rarity. The walls were made from a tan stone, cut into blocks and fit with a lighter colored mortar. No windows occupied the walls, though there was one. Cut into the ceiling was a skylight, made from what appeared to be two pieces of glass. Sticking out from its edge of was a handle, likely used to open one half to let in light. Dust motes flitted about in a single beam of light that hit the floor, like some careless fool had dropped a thick glob of honey on the floorboards. Set into the wall was a tall door, a shiny brass doorknob bouncing light off itself. The room was certainly quaint, and appealed to Twilight’s organized mind. Who owned it, though? It was clearly made for a nonpony, if the size of the furniture was anything to go by.
Twilight was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps from beyond the door. The doorknob turned and the door swung open with a creak. Entering the room was a rather curious sight. A Diamond Dog, bigger than any Twilight had ever seen. It was covered with black fur, but that couldn’t hide the muscle that flexed and tensed under the hide. Wide, powerful forearms made just for digging were attached to two sets of claws that were currently holding a tray. On the tray were slices of apples and oranges, arranged in a neat fashion. A glass of water was also on the tray. The oddest thing, however, was the frilly pink apron that the dog was wearing.
She stared at the dog.
The dog stared at her.
Time passed, neither saying or doing anything, both just staring, one set of blue eyes looking into a set of large black ones. Finally the Diamond Dog took the initiative and stepped forward. A primal fear awoke in Twilight. Despite the dog looking completely silly in the apron, it was still a predator, and having had less than pleasant dealings with the canines in the past, the lavender unicorn felt afraid. She flailed her legs and tried to back up, ramming into the wall beside the bed. The dog stopped and raised an eyebrow at the pony’s panicked state. Her eyes had gone wide with fear and she kept trying to gain distance, but the dog resumed his pace.
While Twilight was very smart and praised rationality, there were times where she acted like an escaped mental patient, basing all decisions on out of control emotions and the fear that somehow the princess would be disappointed in her. The dog stopped at the edge of the bed, and Twilight curled into a ball and closed her eyes, waiting for it to kill and serve her up on a platter with a side of citrus. There was a clink as it set the tray down on the nightstand, and Twilight felt the bed she was on sag in one direction as her canine captor sat next to her.
Instead of a horrific death by teeth or claws, a soft, gentle paw began stroking her mane, and a calming, baritone voice spoke in a language she didn’t understand. The Diamond Dog continued to stroke her mane and speak softly. When Twilight realized that it wasn’t going to eat her she lifted her head up and saw the small, pitying smile on its face. Cautiously she pulled herself from the fetal position and sat on her haunches, coking her head to the side in curiosity. The dog reached over and picked the tray off the nightstand, setting it down on the bed before her.
Twilight leaned down and gave a tentative sniff of the fruit. While he may seem nice now, she reasoned to herself, there wasn’t any sense in being rash. Everything smelled okay, and the glass of water beckoned to her with whispers of “Drink me, Twilight! Drink me!” her dry throat screamed at her to drink, and finally she did.
Placing a hoof on both sides of the glass, Twilight carefully picked it up, not wanting to aggravate her headache with magic. The first sip was wonderful, and she moaned aloud in near orgasmic bliss. Lips sucked greedily, her throat flexed as the water vanished and soothed the pain of her esophagus. All too soon the ecstasy ended, and Twilight found herself with an empty glass. Pleadingly she looked at the Diamond Dog and asked “May I have some more?”
The dog looked confused for a second before saying something. Twilight remembered him speaking while he had comforted her and frowned. So he didn’t know Equestrian. This would make things more difficult. Twilight motioned towards the glass, trying to get her point across. Comprehension dawned on her savior’s face and he nodded, picking the glass up and leaving the room, heavy footfalls echoing on hardwood.
Twilight turned her attention to the food, expertly picking up an apple slice with her hooves and biting into it, a crisp crunch sounding in her mouth. The apple was good, but it didn’t compare to anything from Sweet Apple Acres. A smile graced the mare’s lips at the thought of Applejack criticizing the fruit, whether it be on the flavor or the color. Twilight chewed and swallowed, finishing off the slice. The mare turned her eyes upwards and saw the very tip of her horn, sighing ruefully. Once her headache was gone she would be able to use magic without pain. All signs pointed to a hangover, and Twilight cursed herself for using magic while intoxicated, though she didn’t remember why.
The dog came back, minus the apron, with the refilled glass which Twilight drank more slowly this time, savoring the coolness of the water and drinking in between fruit slices. During her meal the Diamond Dog sat on the edge of the bed and watched her, his face filled with mild curiosity. Twilight finished and faced her savior.
Lifting a paw into the air he tapped himself on the chest and said something. Twilight brightened when she realized it must be his name. It was a bit harsh sounding. She practiced a few times before it was correct.
His name was Nokto.
Twilight tried the same. “Twilight,” she said, pointing towards herself.
“Twelit.”
“Twilight,” she repeated.
“Twelat.”
“Twilight.”
“Twilit.”
It took longer for Nokto to pronounce her name correctly, but he soon got it. Minutes ticked by as her new friend pointed to objects in the room and said their names, Twilight repeating them until they were correct. She had always been studious though languages were something she had passed up, instead choosing to focus on magic and the sciences. All that the mare knew of other languages was a bit of Griffic, and even that was basic.
Standing up, Nokto motioned for her to follow, and she did, awkwardly clambering off the bed. Curiosity filled Twilight’s mind, wondering what he was going to show her. She was a tad giddy at the prospect of knowledge from some un-contacted civilization. Diamond Dogs weren’t known to live in anything except tunnels and caves, and all attempts at fostering peaceful relations between the two groups had ended badly. Diamond Dogs lived in small bands, scrounging around for gems. There weren’t many, and they were believed to be going extinct, as more and more dens were turning up empty.
Twilight walked out into a small hallway, one side leading off to an open door, a bathroom peeking out. The other side lead to a staircase, which Nokto began heading down, turning to make sure she was following. Old stairs creaked and groaned with each step.
The stairs opened up to a single room, taking up what Twilight thought was the entire level. Smooth, glossy wood served as flooring, placed down in thin planks. It was cheerfully lit, the window shutters wide open; Twilight caught a glimpse of trees outside. A kitchen area sat on the right side, cabinets mounted above a rustic stove and a simple sink, various cooking utensils like pots pans and spatulas hung from hooks on the walls. A table surrounded by four chairs was placed next to it. Standing nearly as tall as her was a fireplace, light colored stone wrapping around an iron grate. Two plush, red chairs were situated in front of the fireplace, a sofa thrice as long as either of them sat in the middle. All three looked comfortable and inviting.
What caught Twilight’s eye, though, was the left side of the room. Stacked to the ceiling on shelves which sagged under the weight, were books. Hundreds of beautiful, glorious books. Books of all sizes and colors. Some tall and thick, other short and skinny. Bindings of dark leather clashed with lighter, more cheerful colors. Giving a high-pitched squee that made Nokto cover his ears and wince, Twilight cantered to the bookshelves and tried to hug them, stretching her forelegs wide and making a noble, but foolhardy, attempt at holding all that knowledge. Nokto, meanwhile, looked on in confusion, trying to understand the anomaly he had come in contact with. He swore he could see tiny hearts fluttering around the mare’s head, but he dismissed that as his imagination.
Nokto walked over to her and placed a paw on her shoulder, taking her out of the paper induced high. Twilight started but turned around and noticed Nokto’s confused look. She gave a sheepish grin and went back down on all fours.
“Uh, sorry about that. I just get excited when I see books. You still can’t understand me, can you?” she asked.
The unicorn thought for a moment, then motioned towards the books and mimicked opening one. Nokto understood that easily enough then raised his paw.
Twilight’s jaw nearly came unhinged as the dog’s paw glowed with a blue aura. It wrapped around a few small tomes on the very top of the bookshelf and pulled them down. Nokto set them in front of her, but Twilight’s eyes were still stuck on his paw.
“That’s impossible!” she shouted, pointing an accusing hoof at the Shepard. “Diamond Dogs can’t use magic like that. Only unicorns can! How did you do that? Is there some other unicorn hiding somewhere? Let me see your paw!”
Twilight grabbed the appendage between her two hooves and studied it, turning it around and around, poking and prodding at the digits, mumbling under her breath. Nokto watched, a bit bemused, as the unicorn tried to figure out how he did magic. A moment later his eyes bugged out as her horn glowed and his hand was wrapped with pink colored magic.
Wincing as the spell aggravated her headache, Twilight scanned the paw, looking for any trace of magic. Instead of a small trace of magic, which all things had, she found an incredibly developed magic system, almost an exact copy of a unicorn’s. Internal leylines ran through nerves and organs, shining like strings of copper in the sun. All converged in an area just below the dog’s navel.
“That. Is. Not. Possible! There are no records of complicated magic systems existing outside equines! Well there’s Discord, and the changelings, but I suppose the changelings are equine in nature! You don’t make sense!”
Twilight had a very delicate psyche, one where everything made perfect sense and fit into a neatly organized checklist. Yet sometimes things would contradict that view on reality, and Twilight had a strange way of coping with her world being crushed.
Temporary insanity.
Strands of her mane fell out of place with an audible springing noise, like a guitar string being plucked the wrong way. Pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks and a maniacal smile wormed its way to her face.
“I’ll make you make sense. I’ll find out your mysteries! Maybe a dissection will help! Maybe – “
Twilight was cut off when a fist connected with the side of her head, sending her sprawling to the floor. Nokto stood above her, breathing heavily, face filled with fear. Carefully he walked over to the prone pony and gently nudged her with a toe. She didn’t move.
The pony was out cold.
***
“The spell worked. We’ve summoned one.”
“Well, where is it?”
A pause. The voice spoke up, laced with apprehension. “In the middle of Senpaga.”
“How did it get there?”
"Something interfered with our spell. The summoning point was moved by unknown magic.”
A sigh. “The dogs have it, then. I’ll bet it’s already at the college. You failed.”
“Please, Ma’am. Give me another chance! I can track it down!”
“No.”
A scream filled the air.
There was silence.
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?”
Never was there a lovelier day in Equestria. Sunlight gently fluttered down from the sky, gracing the land with an everlasting, comforting warmth, like the touch of a familiar blanket or the tenderness of a mother’s caress. The dome of the sky was clear and blue, with nary a cloud to be seen anywhere. Birds chirped and bees buzzed, whilst animals played with one another. Everything was perfect. With just one exception, of course.
Twilight Sparkle was missing.
Canterlot was in an uproar. Guards hurried about in the streets, checking through alleys and questioning ponies on the whereabouts of Equestria’s hero and media darling. Flyers with her face were passed around, the words “Have you seen this mare?” written at the top. Ponies that had never known the unicorn were concerned. Only a few days earlier there had been a thwarted invasion by the changelings, and now one of the most important ponies in the nation had vanished. It couldn’t be a coincidence, thought the populace. Those bugs had spirited her away during the wedding reception to get retribution.
Shining Armor sat at his desk, furiously reading over the reports that had just recently come in. So far there was no sign of Twilight. No trace of her had been found in Canterlot, and the guards that had scoured Ponyville had turned up empty hooved. Right now a platoon of guards had set up shop in the Everfree ruins and was preparing their search with the help of Zecora. All companies, even to the farthest reaches of the nation had been alerted, and all were helping the search. Members of the Border Guard near the south had combined efforts with the buffalo to search the badlands, a known hiding place for changelings.
Twilight’s friends hadn’t thought much of it when she was missing at breakfast. They assumed she was just sleeping in late; it had been a rather stressful few days. But then she hadn’t turned up for lunch, so her room was checked and found to be empty. It appeared to haven’t even been slept in. Guards were told to keep a lookout for her, and Rainbow Dash had flown above the city, making passes and buzzing crowds to find her friend. All libraries and museums were checked, schools were scrutinized, but no sign.
The Captain of the Royal guard had been alerted after two days had passed, when he was in the middle of his honeymoon. Cadence had just put on some socks and her special saddle when a guard had knocked on their hotel room door and informed them of the situation. And so Shining Armor had raced from the hotel and into a waiting chariot, leaving a worried wife behind.
That had been two days ago, and Shining hadn’t slept since. Worry had filled his mind and clouded his thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes he could see his baby sister, trapped in a dungeon somewhere, wrapped up in chains, begging her brother to come save her. And he would. By Celestia’s teats he would. Then he would take her home to Canterlot and never let her leave ever again.
Normally Shining wouldn’t have thought that, but stress and lack of sleep do strange things to the mind.
The door to his office opened with a creek, and Shining lifted his head to spy a Royal Guard, a unicorn with a white coat. All lower ranking soldiers were made to wear enchanted armor that kept their coat a shade of brilliant white. It promoted unity and was a pleasing aesthetic to the princess.
“Sir,” he said, giving a salute to the captain. “We’ve captured a changeling.”
Had Shining Armor been drinking anything he would have done a spit take. “What!” he exclaimed. “Where? Were there any others with it? What does it know about Twily?”
“It was found outside Hoofington. No other changelings were reported in the area, though guards and a local militia are still searching. It’s been brought in for questioning, though I don’t know how useful it will be,” the guard replied.
“Why is that, soldier? Is it injured in some way?” the captain asked.
The guard shook his head. “Negative sir. It isn’t a full grown changeling.”
Shining cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, sir, it’s a foal.”
***
Changeling drone 7483B sat on the uncomfortable chair of the interrogation room, hind legs dangling above the floor, kicking them back and forth. Tan, bland walls made up the room, with the exception of the door and a one way mirror to his left. A wooden table sat in front of him, and it was so tall that his head barely peeked over the top. He was a young changeling, only eight years old, and he still had yet for his wings to come in. Wide blue eyes gazed curiously at his prison. It was quite unlike changeling rooms. It was too bright, for one, and no pods hung from the ceiling. Instead of it being hot and dry, like a hive should be, the air was a pleasant seventy degrees. 7483B hummed a tune to himself, wondering when a pony would come in. He had liked the mare that found him. She had screamed really loud and fainted. 7483B giggled to himself. She was funny.
The door to the room opened and a horned pony came in. Unicorns, he thought they were called. This one didn’t look like the others. Sure, he was white, but his fur was unkempt and his blue mane was sticking out in places. Deep purple bags hung under his eyes, which were red from lack of sleep. He wore a red uniform that had obviously seen better days. Wrinkles had marred the surface and a coffee stain ran the length of the right sleeve. He pulled the opposite seat back and set down a stack of papers in front of him, straightening them out.
“All right, changeling, I’m going to skip all the other questions and cut to the chase.” He leaned across the table, glaring down at the tiny equine. “Where is Twilight Sparkle?”
7483B didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at the captain.
“Well?” Shining Armor asked.
“Mama Chrysalis says I’m not allowed to talk to strange ponies,” the changeling said.
Anger turned to confusion, and Shining raised a questioning eyebrow. “What?”
“Mama Chrysalis says I’m not allowed to talk to strange ponies,” the drone repeated. “And rule number one of the hive is ‘Always listen to Mama Chrysalis.’”
Shining recovered from his confusion and placed a hoof on his chest. “Well I’m not a strange pony, so you can talk to me.”
“You are too a strange pony,” 7483B replied.
“No I’m not.”
“Yes you are.”
“Why do you think I’m a strange pony?”
“Cause you look like you’re homeless. Smell like it, too.”
The captain turned his eyes downwards, gazing at his filthy uniform and matted fur. Lifting a foreleg he stuck his nose into the pit and gave a sniff. He recoiled and nearly gagged at the smell, letting out a few coughs.
“Okay,” he said. “I can see your point. Would you talk to a pony that isn’t strange?”
The changeling nodded. Sighing, Shining Armor stood up, picking up the papers and walking out of the room, softly closing the door behind him. A second later an adjacent door leading to the room behind the mirror opened, and out walked Princess Celestia in all her regal glory. A multicolored mane billowed and flowed with the push of solar winds, pure, alabaster fur sparkled and shimmered. Her regalia, colored gold with a chest piece set with a purple gem in the center, shone like perfection. Shoes of solid gold clicked surprisingly gently against the stone floor. No emotion was shone on her face.
Shining Armor gulped. “I’m sorry, your majesty,” he said a bit guiltily, “but the changeling is right. I do look like a homeless pony, and I just can’t deal with an interrogation right now. I’m tired, hungry, and in need of a shower.” The stallion hung his head, waiting for a reprimand from his sovereign.
Instead she gave a sad smile. “It is quite fine, Captain. You’ve worked yourself to the bone, and you deserve a break. Don’t worry, we’ll find Twilight soon enough.”
“What about the changeling, Ma’am?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll take over the interrogation myself, though I doubt we’ll learn anything that important. I’ll probably put him in a guest room after this is all over. He didn’t take part in the invasion as far as we can tell, and he’s still technically a foal,” said Celestia.
Shining Armor gave a stiff, formal bow. “Thank you, Princess.”
“You are dismissed, Captain.” Shining gave another bow and turned, plodding down the hallway, every bone in his body a weary wreck. Celestia gazed sadly at him before putting a big, happy smile on her face. She opened the door to the interrogation room and stepped inside, saying in a cheerful voice “Hello, little changeling. My name is Princess Celestia. What’s yours?”
***
Located in the eastern wing of the castle were a group of guest rooms, around fifty in total. They were made specifically for important guests, and each one featured a bed big enough for three ponies and a full master bathroom. One of these rooms was occupied by five morose mares and one despondent baby dragon. All six sat in different areas of the room. Spike and Rarity were on the bed, the fashionista running a comforting hoof over his spines while he sat with his head lowered, not even able to muster the energy to look up. Pinkie Pie faced a corner of the room, her once poofy mane hanging flat and limp around her like a clump of wet noodles. She let out the occasional sniffle. Fluttershy was in a plush, green chair, eyes directed at her hooves, apparently finding them to be very interesting. Applejack was near the window, blankly observing the towering spirals and buildings of Canterlot. Rainbow Dash was in another chair, changing positions every minute. Lying down on her stomach, then sitting on her haunches, then on her back.
Applejack turned and gave the pegasus a smoldering glare. “RD, will ya quit fidgeting around so much. Yer acting like a hyperactive filly in math class.”
Rainbow Dash let out a groan and spread her wings, hovering a few feet above the floor. “We shouldn’t be sitting here! We should be out there, searching for Twilight. I can’t just laze around and wait for somepony to send word,” the multicolored mare said, voice filled with agitation.
Applejack’s glare softened. The farmer walked over to her friend and set a hoof on her shoulder. “Ah know what yer feeling, Sugarcube, but there ain’t much we can do. None of us have any know-how about tracking ponies that vanished without a trace. We’d only hold ‘em up.”
Rainbow snorted and flew a bit higher. “I don’t get you, Applejack. It’s like you don’t even care.”
“What did you just say?”
“I said that you don’t even care! Twilight could be hurt, and you’re just sitting here, acting like nothing’s wrong. You’re supposed to be her friend!” the mare shouted.
“How dare you say that! Ah am Twilight’s friend, and Ah’m concerned about her as much as you are.”
“If you’re concerned, why aren’t you searching for her?”
“Cause Ah don’t have nothing to contribute to the search. Besides, Ah’ll need to leave here in a few days anyway. Big Mac and Granny Smith can’t run the farm by themselves.”
“That’s your excuse? Your farm? I’m sure your stupid apples can last a week or two without you around,” Rainbow snarled.
“Why you-“
“Stop!”
Their arguing was cut off by a pleading cry. Spike was shaking, tears falling down his face. He gripped the blanket on the bed, his claws tearing at the fabric. “Stop fighting. Please.”
Instantly both ponies stopped, the words stuck in their throats. Guilty looks replaced their rage, and the two turned their eyes to the floor. Rarity pulled the tiny dragon into a hug, softly whispering to him. Spike buried his face into the crook of her neck, sobbing into her white fur. Silence filled the room.
Timidly Rainbow Dash spoke up. “I’m sorry, AJ. I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m just so worried about her.”
Applejack wrapped both forelegs around the prismatic mare. “We’re all worried. Ah know how ya feel, but we shouldn’t fight.”
The six friends returned to their silent brooding, only broken by the light sobbing of Spike. A few minutes passed and Spike quieted down, untangling himself from Rarity. He lifted his head, staring his crush in the eyes.
“What if it’s our fault?” he asked.
“What do you mean, Spikey-wikey?”
The dragon wiped his eye with a claw. “Think about it. When Twilight accused the imposter of being evil, we turned on her. Everypony just turned on her and didn’t give her a chance; her friends, her brother, and Princess Celestia. I can’t imagine how Twilight felt.”
Everypony in the room felt like an icepick had been driven into their hearts. Was it their fault? Did Twilight, their best friend, feel so hurt by their actions that she fled without telling them?
“I don’t think that’s it, Spike,” Rarity said. “We hurt her, yes, but she recovered and didn’t show any sadness. While we’re guilty, and we do owe her a proper apology, let me tell you, she was ecstatic during the wedding. Twilight sang and danced and drank with the rest of us.”
“Rarity’s right, Spike.” Fluttershy said, ever so quietly. “I don’t think that’s the reason.”
“You don’t know Twilight like I do. She doesn’t ever want anypony to feel like she’s a burden. Instead of getting help when she’s upset or hurt, she’d always brush it off and bottle it up. What if this was the final straw?”
During Spike’s sentence Pinkie had made her way from the corner. A squeak issued from the bed as she sat down on it. “I think Spike may be right. Look at how we’ve treated her. When Discord got loose she had to deal with him alone. Remember when her report to Celestia was late? Unlike real friends we brushed her off and didn’t help her. We didn’t care, not really. Maybe she stayed and put on the wedding because she wanted her brother and Cadence to be happy, but she left because she didn’t want to be hurt.”
Fluttershy started crying, warm tears welling up in her clear, blue eyes. “We’re t-terrible friends,” she choked out between sobs, hugging herself and curling up into a quacking yellow and pink ball. The others joined in, all six crying over their missing friend. Emotions had been stirred up over the past several days, and this newest revelations was just the bitter icing on the cake.
“If that is the reason Twilight is missing,” Rarity said, blowing her nose into a flowery handkerchief, “Then we’ll find her and apologize. And if she’s missing for some other reason, we’ll apologize all the same. Once this is all over we’ll be the best friends we can possibly be for Twilight.”
“Yer right about that, Rarity. Ah just hope that Twilight’s safe, wherever she is.”
***
Blackness like no other filled the void. All light was gone, smothered away by the tepid dark. It was almost living, like a giant, undulating mass; thick, like the muck found at the bottom of an old well. Nothing but dark. Then, a light. A tiny spark, infinitesimal in comparison, lit itself briefly and died. Another, this one brighter, longer lived. And another. Soon sparks and orbs of light grew more and more numerous, untold numbers of colors and hues cascading and mixing into a kaleidoscope of brilliance. All at once they were solid, a trusty, unyielding island of light in the sea of void, soon filled with shadow, but of a different shade than the blackness. Lighter, it held a definite shape. Out from the light it stepped, tall and beautiful. An alicorn, coat of night blue, mane of twinkling stars, writhing like a snake. Vestments of blue armor, stamped with a crescent moon in the center were what it wore; the head topped with a black crown forged from sky iron more than a millennia ago. It was Princess Luna, ruler of the night.
She stepped out, hooves making no sound in the nothingness. It almost moved away, like it feared her, though it had no reason to. She tilted her head upward, a stern, knowing look piercing the dark. Ears twitched; sounds could be heard. Voices, a multitude of voices. Thousands, chattering away, speaking of old things, ancient happening and moments of history long gone. Voices, high and low, old and new, learned and ignorant, powerful and weak. Languages that no longer existed, voices that were mere grunts, all memory of speech and self, gone. And the screaming, always the screaming; shrieking and cursing and calling for death. Always there.
Luna seemed confident, though it was a façade. It was unwise to be here, even for her. Shadow scrying was dangerous. Things existed between the veils of the world and in the hidden places; they were what you ran from in your nightmares, the kinds of creatures that passed in your field of vision, but vanished when you faced them.
Her horn lit, not with the dark blue of normal magic, but with a sickly, monstrous black. Once blue eyes turned purple, ghastly power leaking from the sides of her eyes like wisps of smoke. Prodding with the dark magic she searched, beseeching the shadows for something. The shadow of Twilight Sparkle.
Time passed, maybe minutes, maybe hours. There was no way of knowing how long she would stay in the shadows. Luna began to grow frustrated, face taught and muscles tense. It was worrisome that she had not located Twilight’s shadow. Her magic was great, greater than any other unicorn to ever live, and the light of that magic would cast an even larger shadow. Either something was blocking her shadow, which was very unlikely, or Twilight was no longer in the world.
Luna continued, exhausting herself, draining her reserves of magic. It was a cruel reality, to be sure. Luna liked the unicorn, cared for her, after she had defeated Nightmare Moon and set Luna free. The princess was keen on teaching Twilight the secrets of shadow magic, but it didn’t seem likely.
The alicorn snuffed out her horn and turned, walking back to the gate of light. She gave one last look at the shadows, hoping to see some sign that Twilight was out there, but there was none. Crossing the threshold, the light vanished, leaving darkness behind.
Luna awoke, pulling her head from the scrying basin, blinking at the candlelight, the single burning wick a sun to her eyes after the journey. A silver basin sat before her, placed on a stone pedestal. Within the basin was not water, nor quicksilver, nor another common scrying fluid. Liquid shadow, a viscous, terrible thing, had been pulled and distilled from the gates of Tartarus, a process that took a year and a day. Poured into a consecrated container, one could send their astral form into the shadow world, provided they used the right protections.
With a burst of telekinesis the curtains were pulled back, revealing the soft, orange glow of a sunset. The orb had settled just on the horizon, behind the green hills dotted with trees and far off mountains. Luna had come from the trance just in time. Power flowed into the alicorn’s veins. It was simple to move the sun and moon, really. Sympathetic magic reached to the moon, gripping it, the cold of the celestial body sending a shiver down her spine. Her horn heaved as the moon came up, crawling up the opposite horizon like a spider on a web. Stars burst from the sky, twinkling almost cheekily, like laughing, mischievous children. The sun sank, and the night was born.
Luna crossed the stone floor and gripped the door handle, unusual trepidation weighing her down. Telling Celestia would kill the poor mare.
“Luna! I felt your magic as soon as you touched the moon. What have you discovered about Twilight?”
In the hallway, face lit up with hope, was Celestia. Luna dreaded what would come next.
“I am most sorry, dear sister. I spent nearly all of my magic, searched as deep as I could, but there was no sign of your student.” Luna lowered her head, ears folded back. “Please forgive me.”
All hope was dashed, and it looked as if Celestia had been struck. Her entire body seemed to deflate. Eyes lost their luster, mane and coat became dull. Celestia had virtually aged several years.
“It is not your fault, Luna,” said Celestia, walked over and giving a comforting nuzzle to the blue mare. “I don’t doubt your abilities, and if you couldn’t find a glimpse of her shadow, then I don’t blame you.
“I do blame myself, though. I should have trusted Twilight, listened to her concerns about Cadence. I noticed how strange my niece was acting, but I didn’t see it as odd. And then, after Twilight saves Cadence and helps stop the invasion, she’s stolen right out from under my bucking nose!”
Celestia’s voice increased to a near shout. Her entire body trembled, and then she collapsed, falling to the floor like a discarded doll. Tears, large and wet cascaded down her face. Luna closed the distance quickly, wrapping her wings around her sister.
“It shall be all right, Celestia. We’ll find her. Mark my words, we’ll find her.”
***
Within the walls of the Castle Gardens, a mocking laughter drifted on the wind.
“What do you mean extinct?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Diamond Dogs haven’t ever encountered live ponies before. Ruins, sure. We’ve found plenty of those. Skeletons, of course. But never have we once encountered a real, live pony. We just assumed that you were extinct,” Nokto explained, scratching his chin.
Twilight furrowed her brow, lost in thought. She knew that she was far away Equestria, maybe even on the other side of the planet. She held out hopes that she could’ve been somewhere south of the border, past the deserts and stretches of lava that made up the primary habitats of dragons. Beyond those were millions of square miles of rainforest. It was incredibly dangerous to go into the area, as it was considered to be a continent sized version of the Everfree Forest. Sentient creatures did live there, like the various cat tribes, and a species of sentient snakes, the thought of which made the studious pony shudder. Ponies had sent expeditions into the jungle before, but few had returned, and those that had generally ended up raving mad, ranting of cat gods and monsters living in pyramids and temples, some of the stories which influenced the best-selling Daring Do series. What was most confusing, though, was the apparent presence of ruins and pony structures that had existed in this area. There were ponies that lived in the griffon kingdoms and surrounding nations, but only a few, no more than half a million. Ponies hadn’t ever spread that far before the time of the three tribes, so it made no sense for there to exist an ancient pony civilization outside Equestria.
“Nokto, just how old are these ruins that you’ve found?” the mare asked.
“There have been some discrepancies and debates between scholars, but the general consensus is that they’re between eight and five thousand years old. Everything we’ve found has been remarkably well preserved under either ice or levels of sediments.”
If it was possible for Twilight to frown harder she would have. Nokto had mentioned ruins under ice, which meant that the area was unlikely to have a tropical climate, as it was thought to be south of the jungle. All evidence pointed to her being on another hemisphere which, despite her reservations, excited the unicorn. Once she got back to Equestria, she could help open communication between her home and the nation she was in. Scholars would flock to see the ruins, which could rewrite all of equine history as they knew it. And she, Twilight Sparkle, would be at the forefront. Institutions would be named after her, books would be written, detailing her experiences and findings. Princess Celestia would be proud of her!
Twilight’s frown of concentration had reversed itself, a giddy, almost ornery grin overtaking her face. Eyes sparkled and glittered like twinkling stars. A heart beat faster than normal. Images of her, giving talks to the Equestrian Equineological Society. Stuffy old professors in their bland, beige suits and dresses, looking down on her behind pompous, tiny glasses balanced on their noses would finally give her respect. A revolution was coming to the academic world.
Nokto, watching the mare slip into a second stupor, was a tad concerned. Unlike the face of absolute insanity that Twilight had wielded earlier, this one wasn’t as frightening, but nonetheless it was unnerving. Her eyes were glassed over and appeared to have fireworks bursting inside the orbs, and the dog didn’t think that was normal. A line of drool ran from the left side of her mouth and hung, dangling about a foot above the floor. To be honest his newfound ward acted like Tor after he’d snorted powdered Poison Joke. That dog sure loved his drugs.
Reaching forward with an outstretched paw Nokto placed his middle finger behind his thumb and tensed it. With a blur the finger connected to Twilight’s nose with an audible twang, not unlike a banjo string being rudely plucked. With a cry of surprise the endangered creature flung herself backwards, rolling on her back and sticking all four limbs straight up in the air. She quickly recovered and sat back up, rubbing her snout with a hoof, irate at her companion.
“What in the name of Celestia did you do that for? That hurt!”
A brief flash of curiosity crossed Nokto’s mind at the unfamiliar name, but he dismissed it. “You were in a trance, kind of like the one earlier, only you were less homicidal looking. Is it common for you to do that?”
“Not really, but today has been anything but common,” she said. “Anyway, can you tell me what it is that you’ve discovered from the pony ruins? I want to see if there’s any connection between what I know and what you know.”
“Well, we know that there were three types of ponies. The normals, which had no wings or horns-“
“Earth ponies,” Twilight interrupted. “We call them earth ponies.”
“Right. Earth ponies. Then there were the winged-“
“Pegasi. Singular is pegasus.”
“Pegasi,” Nokto said, the word unfamiliar and rolling off his tongue with a bit of difficulty.
“And finally, the unicorns, a combination of the Old Doggish words for one and horn. Now we know that each type of pony had their own nations.”
Wait,” Twilight said, interrupting the Shepard. “You said that each type of pony had their own nations. Did any of them live or coexist together?”
“Not that we know of. There was a lot of enmity between the three groups, and it wasn’t uncommon for conflict to break out.”
Nokto watched the mare’s reaction to what he had just said. It was a look that he had seen on dogs before, one that indicated something was wrong. Her jaw was clenched, almost imperceptibly, facial muscles stressed. Like the face her shoulders were scrunched, a common sign of discomfort. Tests were a common cause, in Nokto’s experience, of that same look, a tell-tale sign of anxiety over a grade. It was a weekly thing to see, and the dog regularly wore it himself. Still, it was a mystery as to why Twilight exhibited the same signs of nervousness. Was something he said wrong? Maybe the championed scholars of the Empire weren’t as well versed in archaeology as they liked to think.
“Originally they all lived far north of here, in a place that scholars have named Dream Valley. Earth ponies settled directly in the valley, which was incredibly fertile and grew abundant crops. Primarily they were farmers and hunters. Their settlements were divided up into several villages, and, based off the ruins we found, their center of government was a giant, wooden meeting house. We theorize that they had a democratic society, but scholars aren’t completely sure.
“Next are the unicorns. They all lived in a castle, built on top of a mountain overlooking the valley. Unicorns were artisans and mages. Primarily they spent their time practicing magic and researching. A portion of them served as royal guards to their monarch, traditionally a female. Unicorns, while they distained the other tribes, regularly used their magic, which they focused by channeling power into their horns, to help the earth ponies and the pegasi, as you call them, when it was needed.
“Now the pegasi were an interesting bunch. Their ambient magic was powerful, and it worked similarly to the magic of a Diamond Dog. We dogs can tunnel though ground easily and can sniff out gemstones with ease, and a few of us are born with the ability to shape the earth at will. The pegasi were like that, only with weather. From what we can tell they had expert control over the weather, and could walk on clouds, even going so far as to build an entire city in the sky. We never found the city; some scholars think that it drifted away or dissipated without any caretakers, whilst others believe it never existed in the first place. All we know about it is from what we found in the pictographs that pegasi used to write. The pegasi kept the climate and weather in Dream Valley controlled, making it ideal for crops. They were a very militaristic society, and we think they primarily protected the valley from outside dangers.
“All types of ponies served a purpose. Earth ponies grew food for themselves and the rest, pegasi manipulated clouds and protected the valley, and the unicorns used their magic for many purposes.”
“Did your scholars ever find anything about the sun and moon from the unicorn ruins?” Twilight asked, her voice strangely void of emotion.
“They did, actually. In the unicorns’ castle there was a throne room that had an image of a sun and moon, below which were some unicorns with their horns glowing. We think that they either worshipped them or held the celestial bodies in reverence, possibly as a way to keep time. Though as I said before, there’s a lot that we don’t know about them. Without knowledge of their language, we can’t be sure about anything.”
Twilight sat on her haunches, eyes shifting between Nokto and the floor. She looked confused, but there was a heavy dose of melancholy painted across her face. Her demeanor was that of a scolded pup or a dog that had lost something important.
“Can you tell me what happened to the ponies? You said that all you’ve found was ruins, so were they wiped out by a disease?” Twilight’s voice was quiet.
“It wasn’t due to a disease, but a change in climate. For some reason the ecosystem they lived in suddenly changed. A massive blizzard covered Dream Valley, and crops started dying. No matter what they tried it was impossible to stop, and after a few years and massive deaths due to starvation, the tribes fled south. What was most interesting was that the blizzard seemed to follow them. Wherever they went, no matter how far or fast they ran, it followed. Many more died on the journey. At one point they must have had a truce of some sort, because they banded together and hid in a cavern beneath a mountain, which was later named to Mount Blackrock. They barricaded themselves in, setting up hastily made stone walls and burying long, wooden spikes pointing outwards, almost like they were afraid of something. Unfortunately,” here Nokto took a breath, “they all froze. Temperatures plummeted rapidly, so rapidly that some were flash frozen. It happened so fast they never had time to starve. Diamond Dogs stumbled upon the mountain around, oh I don’t know, a thousand or so years ago.
“After that scholars flocked to the place and began researching pony culture. Its popularity waned about two hundred years ago, and now there are just a few serious academics left.”
Nokto stopped his impromptu lecture, analyzing the mare’s reaction. Her face went from sad to fear, then quickly contorted into rage.
“You’re lying!” she shouted, her voice cracking. She stood up and marched over to Nokto, her hooves making heavy thumping noises on the polished hardwood. The dog gasped and grabbed his staff at the sight of her mane thrashing around and turning red, a perfect match to a raging flame. His nose twitched at the potent smell of ozone and burnt metal that rapidly filled the air. Her horn lit with a purple aura, the power collecting into a charged ball of energy at the very tip. Nokto pointed the staff at her, legs spread wide in a combat stance.
“Tell me the truth! You’re working with the changelings, aren’t you? You’re trying to keep me from my friends!”
A few blasts of magic shot out towards Nokto, deflected by a hastily made shield spell. They careened off in different directions, impacting walls and tearing at them like a sword through a goose feather pillow. Pieces of debris were sent flying, wooden shrapnel burning with magical fire narrowly missing the dog. He countered, a speedy burst of telekinetic force bashing the homicidal pony on the face. A spray of blood from a freshly broken nose sent droplets of red to settle on the floor. Twilight vanished in a flash of blinding white, reappearing behind Nokto. She turned and lifted her back hooves off the floor. With one strong, powerful strike her hooves slammed into his back. He grunted and stumbled forward, letting go of the staff.
Twilight snatched it up with a flick of her horn. She leveled it before her vision and smirked. It began to bend, the wood groaning and straining under her power. Nokto had recovered and turned, his eyes wide at the unicorn’s actions.
“Don’t! If you break the staff we could both die!” he pleaded.
“Why should I believe you? You’ve been lying to me this whole time!” Her voice sounded different, almost distorted, like there were two separate people talking at once. More magic wrapped around the staff and it bent further. Runes flashed warnings and cracks made their appeared in the middle, light peeking out from them. Nokto ran at her, paw outstretched, trying to grab the staff. With a loud, deafening snap, all hell broke loose.
Magic that had been carefully crafted and sealed into the staff over years was released all at once. A shockwave of arcane energy erupted, knocking both dog and pony backwards. The entire house cracked and splintered and blew apart, chunks of debris flying outward. A beam of light, brighter than the sun, rose upwards into the sky like a lonely sentinel. All eyes in Senpaga turned to the phenomenon, coming from the very outskirts of the city. Nokto rolled on the ground, white hot pain lancing through every part of his body. His vision darkened, like a tunnel under the ground, and the last thing he saw was a face reminiscent of a bug, staring curiously down at him.
The sun had risen above Senpaga merely an hour ago, and with it came all the going-ons and scurrying around of morning. Window shutters that had been closed during the night were opened by fat, aproned dams, breathing in the cool, relatively clean air of the city. They lumbered outdoors, carrying wicker baskets filled to the brim with the wash. Clotheslines were strewn between quaint brick and stone houses, shirts and pants and towels being clipped onto the lengths of fiber by the careful housewives. Mouths moved, gossip and conversation fresh on the tongue. “Did you hear about Mildred’s pregnancy?” or “I heard the Emperor’s finally getting married” were common topics among some, whilst others chattered and complained about their husbands, cackling like harpies or witches leaning over a cauldron of some unfathomable dark brew.
Sires and husbands came out next, wearing a variety of robes or tunics. Long sleeves and starched collars, free of wrinkles and creases contrasted with richly colored fabrics that were worn by officials of the government or employees at the college, cloth swaying and swishing with every step. Fresh, well-rested eyes and serious, no-nonsense faces were a commonality, made stern from years of life experience and hard work. They kissed their wives goodbye and headed out, speaking along the way in quiet, almost reverent tones, at least until they were out of earshot from their spouses. Then they laughed and joked, making lewd comments and comparing the bottoms of the bitches in the city. Gossip, too, flowed from their lips, only a different kind than the female flavored talk. Theirs was far more focused on what went on in businesses and the upper echelons of government.
Next came the elderly, joints creaking and cracking like so many weak twigs being stepped on, hunched over and aching with arthritis and other maladies of age. Skin sagged with years gone by, deep wrinkles and crows’ feet lined faces like furrows in canyons dug out by primordial rivers. Teeth were missing and patches of fur had thinned, the dark, almost leathery hide sometimes visible underneath. This generation shambled about with care, lowering themselves into antique rocking chairs, passed down through the family. Pipes were secreted and lit, trails of different colored smoke rising in the air and being carried ever so gently by the breeze. Talk was scarce, never more than a few simple greetings and polite nods. Anything that needed to be said had been said long ago.
Doors slammed open and a multitude of pups ran out, shrieking with laughter and bellies filled with oatmeal. Dams scolded and wagged their paws at the pups for slamming the doors, voices mingling with the excitement of the young ones. Out they rushed, ready to begin a whole new day of fun and games. Some carried balls, bouncing along the old stone roads of the city, echoing for blocks, while some hefted sticks, engaging in pretend swordfights. Their world was one of endless possibilities, of complicated alliances amongst the groups of pups, of rivalries and crushes. A few had chores to do, and that was fine. Pups welcomed each other, always glad for new playmates, activities ever-changing with the arrival or departure of friends. Young bitches whispered and giggled, pointing out the dogs they thought were cute. Some had dolls and found themselves in the grassy park areas of the city, spreading out blankets and having imaginary tea parties with their stuffed friends.
Merchants opened their stalls, setting out wares for the whole world to see. Fruits and vegetables were laid out to look pleasing to the eye. Apples, oranges, lemons, and other citrus cousins attracted shoppers, situated next to potatoes and beets and turnips of the root vegetables, while veggies of the greener persuasion were sold sparingly; Senpaga had a dislike for leafy greens. Noses twitched at delectable smells, coming from the myriad of bakeries and shops. Fresh loaves of bread were snatched up by byers with vigor. Croissants wrapped in paper were bought with sides of jelly for the many that wanted breakfast on the go. Gem sellers hawked precious stones, whether they are for eating or art, or any number of purposes that could be conceived. Cries and shouts of “Buy this!” and “Best quality!” were an everyday occurrence, an opera of sales pitches and catchy phrases.
Underlying all the joviality and friendliness, all the happiness and predictability, a level of unease intermingled with its close friend fear, trickling among the populace like a tiny chemical spill in a stream. It was hardly noticeable, but it was there, and soon the effects would be felt. More guards than usual patrolled the streets, and not just one or two. Dozens, all dressed in armor and carrying spears, swords strapped to their sides, and a smattering of mage staffs marched in twos, searching for something. No crime had been committed, or so it was thought. Today wasn’t supposed to be a drill, was it? No, something had happened, or was going to happen.
All those emotions, from the happiness and joy and familiarity, to the fear and nervousness, had nearly overwhelmed Chrysalis’s sense when she first came aboveground. It was an experience akin to not eating for years at a time and suddenly being force-fed a three course meal, complete with a very rich dessert. Internal leylines had expanded so rapidly with an influx of raw emotional energy that she had passed out for an hour on a pile of rubbish, and it was only by pure luck that she wasn’t seen. Currently the last changeling was lounging on a flat roof with bright red tiles, lying comfortably on her side. A simple color change spell and she was nearly invisible, like a chameleon in the torturous heat of a jungle. Some of the rubbish had stuck to her, and she was now occupied with dislodging banana peel and coffee grinds from the joints in her exoskeleton.
Chrysalis sighed with contentment after she removed the last of the foul waste from her person, chucking a rotten orange slice over the side of the building, snickering when it hit a passerby. Rolling onto her back, careful not to place too much weight on the insectoid wings, she folded her forelegs behind her head, like a pillow of chitin, and gazed longingly at the sky. Such a wondrous shade of light blue, dotted with clouds of fluffy white, waltzing about on thermals and winds from far-off places. Sunlight warmed her, and she purred like a cat. When had Chrysalis last seen the sun? One hundred and twenty years? Time passed slowly, down there in the prison. Without any way of marking the days it was impossible to truly know.
A mission. The changeling had a mission, but right now she didn’t care. A three day timeframe provided plenty of opportunities to carry out Dorgath’s will, and plenty more for leisure and relaxation. Besides, she might not even find what caused the disturbance. There might not be anything. Even if she did, it wouldn’t stop that infuriating Emperor from locking her back in the cell. She poked at the runed collar with a perforated hoof. Stupid magic.
Deciding that decades spent sitting around was quite enough, Chrysalis rocked back and forth and shifted her weight onto all fours, looking like a turtle upside-down on its shell. With a buzz of wings the camouflaged changeling landed in a space between two buildings, well away from public scrutiny. Green flames materialized as her innate magic went to work, running over her body and giving it a brand new form. The fire dissipated, in its place a beautiful Diamond Dog bitch, all rich brown fur and wide hips. A sleek feminine muzzle and long, fluttering eyelashes had been considered attractive the last time she had been allowed outside, and Chrysalis didn’t have reason to think it changed. Her new body wore an opulent robe, reds and golds twisting together to form a multitude of patterns and spirals. It had the appearance of silk, though that was just a façade. Bracelets of gold inlaid with jewels of all types ran up her arms. She hadn’t chosen a particular breed. No, she had chosen an ambiguous form, one to keep dogs guessing. Very little stigma was held against marriage outside your own breed, though a few noble families still preferred it. All in all, Chrysalis gave off an air of power, wealth, and sophistication, perfect for any information gathering. And for other activities, as well.
Stepping out from her hiding place, the bitch sauntered down the street, smiling lightly when she felt dozens of pairs of eyes trained on her. Emotions flowed out from them. Lust and attraction from the dogs; she practically felt their stares on her ass. Appreciation from the bitches, mixed with a generous helping of jealousy and self-loathing over their own, plain looks. Merchants eyed her hungrily; with such fine robes and well-crafted jewelry, surely she must be rich. Chrysalis greedily sucked these emotions up, filling herself and stockpiling the energy for later use.
A multitude of dogs walked about, some with lazy, carefree paces, others hurrying to their destinations. Few of them interested her. Intelligent, light green eyes scanned over the crowd. Ah, there they were. Two guards, both impeccably dressed in cold colored armor, marched side by side, trying to act tough. Even untrained dogs could tell they were fresh recruits, nearly pups themselves. Circular helms that looked to have been halved from metal spheres sat upon their heads, holes cut in the top for the ears. Shiny steel plates, under which would be chainmail, glittered and sparkled under the soft light. Leather pants with metal shin and knee guards provided good protection for the legs, while not inhibiting movement too much.
Chrysalis pretended to be interested in the wares of the stall keepers, perusing the produce and traipsing among the tantalizing trinkets, traveling down the market stalls at a leisurely pace. Closer and closer she came to the guards. They were only a few steps away now.
With as much grace as could be mustered the changeling pretended to trip, letting out a small, dainty squeal of surprise and landing into the chest of one of the guards. He ‘oomphed’ and caught her, wrapping a pair of arms around her. Raising her head, she looked into the guard’s shaggy face as demurely as possible, fluttering her eyelashes and willing a blush into her cheeks.
“I am most sorry, sir guard. I’m just so clumsy,” the bitch said.
“That is quite all right, miss. I hope that you’re uninjured,” he replied.
“I’m fine, thanks to you, my good sir,” Chrysalis said. She righted herself and stepped back, discretely lifting the tail beneath her robes and running it up the inside of his thigh. It was quick and subtle, but by the look on the guard’s face, noticeable. “If you don’t mind me asking, why the increase of guards? Has something happened?”
“I apologize, but I’m not at liberty to say. Though on that note, have you seen anything suspicious? Anything out of the ordinary?” His voice had taken on a serious tone, and it was obvious he was trying to act tough. It may have impressed a young, naïve bitch, but not Chrysalis. They were both green, so green it had practically colored their coats.
“I haven’t even been in the city for a day. Could you tell me what to look out for? Pretty please?” another batting of eyelashes accompanied the question.
“Well,” he said, scratching the back of his head, “I suppose it wouldn’t break any rules. Any trace of magic that seems out of place is what we’re supposed to be looking for, especially in the western district of the city. Be on the lookout for anything other than a dog. I know that griffon merchants frequent the city, but if you see one, keep a close eye on it.”
Chrysalis grinned. That information would be helpful, but she wondered if she couldn’t get something more. Both guards looked tired. Bags had formed under their eyes, thick and purple, and the lids above looked to weigh a ton or so. Stifling a yawn, the one that had yet to speak kept his mouth closed, trying to maintain composure. They had been on patrol for a few hours, at least.
“Tell me, when do you two handsome dogs get off? It may be impolite to say, but both of you look like you could use a good rest.”
Both perked up, minds obviously running wild at the prospect of time with a pretty and seemingly noble bitch. The shaggy one spoke up first.
“We have another hour before our duty ends, so if you would like to wait until then, we could meet up somewhere, miss …” he trailed off, not knowing her name.
“Shale. Shale Domipart Rhinestone. And you two gentledogs would be?”
With a bow the silent comrade placed Chrysalis’s paw in his own, lifting it gently to his lips and placing a light kiss on the fur. “Tamben Stonewrought, at your service, milady.”
“And I am Yael Pogrom. Did you have a place in mind, or should we recommend something?” the newly named Yael asked.
“I said once before that I’m new to the city, so I haven’t heard of too many establishments. I trust that you two will pick something lovely.”
“How about the Flaming Drought ? It’s a wonderful inn and tavern, just a few blocks south of here, made from white stone. I’ve gone to it for ages, and it has some of the best home brewed alcohol. Their gems are always from the mines, and the owner’s wife makes the tastiest honeyed rubies this side of the Empire,” Tamben said, voicing his enthusiasm.
“Tamben’s right about those rubies. What do you say?” Yael asked.
Chrysalis gave a shy, demure smile to the dogs, the upturn of her lips barely visible. “That sounds lovely. So I’ll meet you two there in an hour or so?”
Both gave big, youthful smiles, white canines shining almost obnoxiously. “Indeed, lady Shale,” they said at the exact time, bowing at the waist. It was obvious they had practiced with each other for situations just like this. Wingdogs, indeed.
“All right then. See you dogs later,” she said, giving them a dainty wave of a paw and turning on her heel, adding an extra flick of a tail under her robes for good measure. Yael and Tamben waited until she had walked the length of the street before they turned and grinned at each other.
“Score!” they said, bumping fists.
***
Every establishment had a noise to it, a sound that defined the place and gave it character, a kind of music that was unique. Restaurants could be considered instruments, finely or shoddily crafted with fine materials or the cheapest, flimsiest things in existence. Some were grand and heavenly, with chandeliers reflecting the dazzling luminescence of white candles and long, opulent tables were set with napkins folded into interesting shapes and silverware shone with a bright, almost haughty gleam, the pieces geometrically organized. Others were hovels, the walls of rotting wood, dust and dirt lingering on the floor, cobwebs in the corners, with a generous helping of old, cracked tables and stools. Others were in between. Trees of high quality had been cut down in far off, snowy forests, the fragrant and strong timbers turned into a skeleton of fibers. On the skeleton was muscle and flesh of fine dark framing, large windows facing out into the world. Stout tables and chairs were organized with just a hint of discord; a welcoming place.
What truly made each establishment unique was not the make and model of the building itself. No, it was the patrons. They played upon the strings of the restaurants, each writing a different and new tune with every appearance. The patrons had to have knowledge of their instrument; it would do now good to place high society members into some seedy, trashy corner, nor would any low or even middle class people be able to comprehend the complexities or needless extravagance of the finer places. Every instrument had its musician and every establishment its patrons, as did the Flaming Drought.
So far, Chrysalis liked the dogs in the Flaming Drought . A double-door had been propped open with a chunk of firewood, the wind and light of the day peeking into the inn and tavern, like a shy child. Tables, round and smooth, the wood polished from numerous elbows dragging across it, were scattered in a haphazard fashion, no sense of order at all. Some were empty of chairs, others crowded, dogs sitting and playing cards, gambling away their last crowns or just enjoying the company of friends. Flagons, stines and mugs of alcohol were passed around, carried on trays by serving wenches in pretty dresses. Plates of steaming hot foodstuffs came constantly from the kitchen. Fresh loaves of crusty, soft bread. Bowls of stew, broth deep brown, carrots and potatoes floating amongst chunks of beef from farms outside the city. For those with a sweet tooth, cakes and pies, brightly colored pastries topped with cream or chocolate, piping hot or cold, however the customer preferred. Fruit bowls, apples and oranges with a few grapes, could be seen by the bar, shuffling between the main room and the kitchen to be refilled.
A cacophony of singing resonated with the old wood of the place, issuing from the mouths of dogs either completely sloshed or merely toasted, all worldly troubles forgotten. Bawdy songs they were, too, detailing sagas of sex among the nobles and the perverted deeds that priests performed on their altars. Rather amusing, the changeling thought. A lyre player, a beagle bitch, had set up in a corner, strumming out a tune to the few that were listening. A fireplace, currently burning with a few solitary coals, was a few paces to the left of a staircase that lead to the two upper floors, where the rooms were. The owner of the inn, a portly, jovial dog, made his rounds, checking on the satisfaction of all those present.
Chrysalis sat with Yael and Tamben, both red-faced from the alcohol, while she was completely fine, even after several drinks. Changeling metabolisms weren’t affected by alcohol. In fact, very few things could poison her. The dogs had traded their armor for nondescript, but good quality, tunics and pants, Yael with green and Tamben with dark blue. Yael’s shaggy white fur had been combed, though there was only so much that could be done with it, and it had a wild, untamed quality, like an ancient forest. Tamben’s fur was smooth and glossy, a small hint of cologne wafting from the tan hair.
“So Shale, tell us. Where do you come from?” asked Tamben, a tiny slur in his voice.
“I was born in an area in the west of the Macintosh Hills, in the Chateau Domipart, as the second daughter of the Rhinestone family. My father is a count, though a lesser known one. My family left for the south to escape the intricacies and scheming of the court, which we’ve always had a distaste for.
“Our primary source of income is through a vineyard and an orchard. My grandfather planted the first vines himself, and soon it grew to cover several hundred acres, the rich soil making the vines shoot up twelve inches overnight. The Rhinestone family has prided ourselves on the wines we make, the unique conditions of the Macintosh Hills making for flavorful grapes.”
“Is that why you’re here? To sell wine in the city?” It was Yael that spoke this time.
Shale gave a slight shake of her head. “Unfortunately I came for less – how should I say it? – benign reasons. While I dearly love my home and family, it gets very lonely, with the only other dogs I see being the hired workers and servants. My father didn’t like travelling, and thought that if we left the chateau unsavory nobles would try to use my family’s money for their own ends, so I’ve never seen the outside world until a few weeks ago, when I slipped away. I felt stifled. So I set out to find who I truly am. And maybe even find love”, she added with a wink, suppressing a laugh as the dogs suddenly sat up straighter.
Shale Domipart Rhinestone was an identity that Chrysalis had used before. Back when she had been free, during the early days of the Second Empire, the persona was used often. Back then the Macintosh Hills were scarcely settled; a drought had sent most dogs scurrying, so it made sense that the House of Rhinestone hadn’t been heard of. It only made sense to use the identity again.
“It isn’t right that you were locked up like that,” Tamben said. “You should be free to do whatever it is that you want. Myself, for instance. My family has always been farmers, plowing the same few acres of land for generation. Me, I didn’t want that. I wanted to be in the guard. From the time I was a pup, stories of heroics and battles fascinated me, so when I came of age I told my sire about my plans. He was royally pissed, going on and on about how I was ruining the family name. Eventually he got over it, but that was after I’d gotten out of training. Your sire may come around, given enough time.”
“Indeed,” replied Yael. “Live your life, follow your passions.” He paused. “This may be the beer talking, but Shale, you’re the most gorgeous bitch I’ve ever met.”
Chrysalis blushed and giggled behind a paw. “Oh, you flatterer. You’re just being nice.”
“No!” Yael nearly shouted. “It’s true. Poets should be praising your beauty from the rooftops. Battles should be fought over you, your story immortalized in history.”
“Yael’s right. I’ve lived in this city for the past year, and never before has such a paragon like yourself been seen here. You’re brightening up Senpaga with your mere presence.”
Chrysalis wasn’t impressed, but she pretended to be. Besides, the more love and admiration they gave her, the stronger she would be. Strength and magic was needed for Dorgath’s task, and while any emotion could be converted to energy, love was the most potent. And the changeling knew just how to get it.
Shale lifted both paws and laid one on Yael’s paw, then Tamben’s. She gave a firm squeeze and added a sultry, seductive smile. Neither noticed the incandescent green aura around her hands, the magic flowing and manipulating thoughts and hormones. The dogs suddenly felt themselves sporting rather uncomfortable erections, and their facial expression wedged somewhere between arousal and mind-numbing horror.
“You know, it’s a bit too noisy here, don’t you think? Why don’t we rent a room; give ourselves some privacy?”
Both simply nodded, the blood in the brain needed for speech having diverted to more important places. All three stood up, the chairs making a harsh screeching noise against the floor. They made their way over to the owner, the two dogs already fumbling bits from pockets to pay for a room. Chrysalis allowed for a genuine smile. This was going to be fun.
***
Well. That had been… something. An experience best described as being between ‘meh’ and ‘never again’. Yael and Tamben weren’t lacking when it came to physical prowess, nor size in the nether regions, but that didn’t account for skill. Or experience. Chrysalis had assumed that they would have both done something before. But no. Virgins, both of them. Bumbling, foolish virgins. She had to take full control of everything, and then Tamben started crying. She had gotten a decent amount of love, though she wondered if it had been worth all that. Chrysalis had cast a sleep spell on the two and high-tailed it out of there, creeping down the stairs and ignoring the steely glares of the proprietor’s wife, who no doubt assumed she was a prostitute.
Which she was, in a way.
The disguised changeling stepped out into the street, not nearly as busy as it had been. Hanging in the middle of the sky the sun’s heat beat down, the pavement sizzling in some places. Most dogs had sought refuge inside, relaxing in the shade of porches and awnings, sipping on chilled drinks. Senpaga was a tad sleepy during midday.
Where had the guards been focusing their search? Ah, yes. The western district. Chrysalis made her way west, navigating the wide streets with relative ease. Back in her day there had been no signs with streets names painted in bold, bright letters. Tiny cracks and crevices between buildings housed beggars and waifs, criminals and other unsavory individuals. It would be ignorant to assume that those groups had gone away. They still existed, maybe in other regions and forgotten portions of the capital, the kinds of places where dams forbade their pups from going. Senpaga had merely undergone a facelift, Chrysalis mused.
More guards began to make an appearance, and dogs on the street glanced and whispered about their presence. She had arrived in the western district of the city, and it was time to get to work. Turning a corner down a small lane Chrysalis changed back into her usual form, glad to feel the ground on her four hooves. Masquerading as a bipedal creature when you possess four legs was challenging and uncomfortable. Sickly jade light gathered to her twisted horn and in an instant the lane was completely empty, the changeling invisible to the naked eye.
Wings buzzed, the muscles burning from years of atrophy, and Chrysalis lifted into the air, nearly as light as a robin. A shout of glee burst from her fanged mouth while she did somersaults and other simple aerobatics; it had been such a long time since she had flown. She twisted in a corkscrew and sped straight into the air, gaining altitude. Soon the dogs of the city looked like tiny dots, meandering around. Buildings became chunky, square blocks, like something a pup would play with.
Closing her eyes, the changeling hovered in place, steadying her breathing. Other senses were activated, the ones used to hunt and find prey. Her species could theoretically devour any and all kinds of energy, and with an appetite for raw power came keen abilities.
Emotions washed over her, an ocean wave of thoughts and feelings. She saw everything that was felt, from anger to love, kindness and apathy. Errant thoughts were picked up, mostly concerned with normal happenings and life. Some would be considered interesting by gossips and wives, and others would no doubt end a few marriages. Magic, too, prickled along her horn, a familiar tingling; a friend. Ambient background magic coated the city in a fine film. Two places stood out, the palace and the college, both lit up like miniature suns, centuries of spells cast within their walls. What caught her attention, though, was a thin, nearly intangible trail of magic, different than anything else. It was the kind of magic you would expect to see after a teleportation spell. When a magic user performed a spell or action, a certain amount of the arcane particles would stick to the caster, but it would take an insane amount to leave that much of a trail, even as tiny as it was.
Chrysalis flew, flying lower to the ground to keep a close eye on the trail, just a few feet above most roofs. It snaked its way between side streets and abodes, avoiding the main thoroughfares and the public eye. Whatever had come here either knew the city well, or was being guided by an inhabitant.
Twists lead to turns that lead to more twists, nearing the edge of the city. Finally the trail exited the city, entering a wide, flat road of grey stone. It turned, making its way into a copse of pine. Chrysalis landed, pine needles crunching underhoof, the scent of the trees and grass pleasant on the nose. Very little underbrush cluttered the floor beneath the trees, and a small portion was dappled light blue by the petals of bluebells, an island of color amidst a sea of shadowy green and brown. She leaned down and gave the flowers a sniff, smiling a bit. Flowers were always a weakness of hers, back when she still lived with her mother.
Continuing on her search, the trail exited the trees and entered a meadow, the grass a multitude of greens, rolling and twisting under a slight breeze, like the lapping of water on a shoreline. Farmhouses dotted the landscape, situated cozily next to fenced-off squares of vegetable patches. The changeling spied what appeared to be an apple orchard, far in the distance, trees filled with the succulent fruit. Close by, at the very end of well-worn dirt path, was a small house, barely big enough for two. It was stone, the brown exterior a charming contrast to the deep, rich black of the roof tiles. A window or two was spied in the sides. The yard surrounding the house was neatly trimmed, a row of hedges wrapping the perimeter. Chrysanthemums, two bushes worth, guarded an opening in the hedge, straddling the sides of the path that ended at a rustic red door. Most importantly, the trail followed the path perfectly, right up to the door.
Before Chrysalis could investigate further her inner magic sense went haywire, ringing warning bells in her head. Quickly she jumped back, anticipating some form of massive magic release, most likely an attack. Her invisibility spell forgotten, the former queen summoned a shield, flickering and made from emerald magic. A good thing, too, as the house groaned and exploded, a burst of magic capable of leveling an entire block ten times over. The once humble home was turned to rubble, wood and stone reduced to dust and ash. Her shield groaned and strained while it was pummeled, the effort made harder by the magic in the air disrupting her own. A pillar of white light, made from pure magic, rose and touched the sky, likely seen from a mile around. Something besides rubble hit her shield; coming flying from the epicenter of the event was a Diamond Dog, impacting the shield and stopping, unable to move.
As soon as it had begun, it was over. Magic dissipated and bled into the air. Chrysalis cursed; all traces of the trail would have been wiped out by the blast. She lowered her shield and gazed down at the dog, a male, who looked at her in confusion before passing out. His body was riddled with cuts and lacerations. Wooden shrapnel, one especially large piece that looked to be from a mage staff, judging by the engraved runes, was stuck in a hind leg. The changeling took one last look at the smoldering house. Nope, she probably wouldn’t find anything there. This dog was her best bet, and he was dying.
A quick spark of her horn and a scanning spell assessed the damage. Broken bones, smaller fractures, but luckily there wasn’t any internal bleeding. How he’d managed to survive the blast with so few injuries was a miracle. None too gently she wrenched the sliver of wood from his leg, swiftly applying magic to stop the bleeding. A healing spell rippled across the dog’s body, stitching small cuts. Chrysalis wasn’t well versed in healing magic, and it took a great deal of power to perform the necessary spells. Indeed, flesh injuries she could heal, to an extent, but broken bones were another thing all together. She spent the next few minutes making sure he was stable. The magic burst would have been seen by hundreds, if not thousands, and no doubt guards would be swarming the area in a few minutes.
Once the dog wasn’t near death’s door Chrysalis wreathed herself in the invisibility spell once more, lifting off with a buzz of her wings. Just in time, too. Dogs from the nearby farms had arrived, and the changeling saw a group of a dozen or so guards exiting the city. Now she needed to report back to Dorgath. Ugh.
With a sigh she turned, flying back towards Senpaga with a heavy heart. The Emperor would no doubt be stark raving mad over all the attention that was drawn by the explosion, and he’d find some way to pin it on her.
Being a prisoner sucked.
In hindsight, destroying an object that was infused with inordinate amounts of magic was one of the stupidest things that Twilight had ever done. When the wood snapped, a concentrated burst of magic had smashed into her. Luckily she had enough of her senses to perform a hastily made shield spell, a sphere that had covered every portion of her body. She had rolled and tumbled in it, ramming into the sides, like a purple hamster in its ball. Sent forth by the explosion, the shield had rocketed into the air, flying for several hundred feet. It had impacted into the middle of an apple orchard, ripping up trees and leaving a long, smoking crater.
Twilight groaned, every part of her body throbbing with a dull pain, with the exception of her broken nose, which still stung and was bleeding heavily. Bruises from head to rump were beginning to form, a shade of purple deeper than that of her coat. Slowly, wincing as she moved, the mare shakily stood, legs quivering and quaking. A gasp left her throat and the shield fizzled out, withering away like ice dissolving in hot water. Her hooves hit the ground beneath her, and she yelped, the ground heated by the impact. Twilight hurriedly scrambled backwards, pulling herself from the crater.
She flopped onto the grass outside the massive scar on the ground, all four legs splayed out in exhaustion. The grass was cool and soft, soothing to the aches and pains. A hasty check was done, flexing and shifting all four legs. She poked the tip of her horn; no cracks or breaks, thank Celestia. More prodding followed, along her barrel and sides. A sharp hiss of pain leapt from the confines of her throat when she brushed against a particularly painful spot. Besides some bad bruises, and what might have been a lightly cracked rib, she was relatively uninjured. Twilight started a bit when something warm and wet hit her foreleg. A splotch of red blood marred her coat. Oh yeah, she also had a broken nose. Stupid Nokto. She doubted that was even his real name. He may have been a changeling disguised as a Diamond Dog the entire time. There was no way those mutts could build a civilization. Preposterous!
Groaning, Twilight resisted the overwhelming urge to lie down and sleep. Right now she was in unfamiliar territory, maybe on a different continent, and she needed to establish her location, and obtain food, shelter, and medical care. And beat the tar out of whoever ponynapped her.
She was in the middle of an apple orchard, judging from the hundreds of apple trees, branches thick with the fruit. Almost like she was back at Sweet Apple Acres. Stretching over a hundred feet was a scorching, deep furrow, carved from a magic bullet. Twisting clouds of smoke danced in some spots, like black snakes slithering in the grass. Broken, shattered remains of once great trees were scattered around and in the crater, wood smoldering, looking like a contingent of soldiers hit with a mortar round.
It was a struggle to stand, but Twilight worked against gravity’s wishes and won, observing her surroundings for any landmark. In the distance was a silhouette of a city, not one that the scholar knew. Though Twilight had never left the country she was well versed in geography and most major cities. What was before her was something unfamiliar. Most cities had tall skyscrapers, or at least towers of some sort. What was in the distance looked like squares surrounded by a wall. Two structures loomed above the rest. One was a palace or castle, spires jutting from a massive stone base. The second had a few towers, spaced farther apart, and was a compound of some sort, a tall wall hugging the border.
Twilight continued to observe the city for a few moments, drinking in the tiny buildings with roads branching off and heading in her direction or off into the distance. She decided that it would be best if she found some shelter and medical attention. A grimace crossed her face at the prospect of snapping her nose back into place and casting a healing spell. Healing magic was never her forte, and the most she had ever done was fix up a cut or two.
Her ear twitched as an eerily familiar accent broke through the quiet. Twilight hobbled over and hid behind a tree, crouching low and leaning slightly on her side, eyes wide and curious. The voice sounded so similar, but it couldn’t be, could it?
“Ah saw it land over here, Applejack!”
No. It couldn’t be. Out from the trees came two Diamond Dogs, both running fast. One was about twice as tall as Twilight. Her coat was a light shade of orange with a streak of yellow running down her neck. She wore a pair of blue shorts and a faded plaid shirt. Atop her head was a light brown Stetson. The other dog was also female, and Twilight’s jaw dropped at the sight of a bipedal Winona, only a head taller than the pony. Same brown coat, same white splotch on the face, near identical attire to the Applejack dog, without the hat, but in place a red bandana wrapped around her neck.
The Applejack dog surveyed the damage, awe and shock written on her face. “What in the name of all that is good and holy did this?”
Winona gazed around before walking towards the end of the crater. “Ah saw that glowy purple ball thing land over here, but it’s gone.”
“What if it was Nokto? That explosion came from his hut, and if’n he cast a spell to shield himself he could’ve landed here,” Applejack said, some worry creeping into her voice.
“Wouldn’t Nokto have stayed here, sis? He’d probably be injured, so I doubt he’d get up and leave,” Winona replied.
“That’s what Ah’m worried about. If he smacked his head he could be confused and be wandering around here.”
“Well, whatever it is that landed here, we should try and find it. Look around here and see if you spot anything,” Winona said.
They split off, making their way in opposite directions around the crater. One would occasionally bend down and sniff at the ground, trying to find any sort of scent. Twilight, in her position behind the tree, was panicking, her breathing erratic. She needed to get away; it was only a matter of time before they found her. Simply running wouldn’t do; she was too exhausted to run, anyway. Magic was out, too. That shield had been a strong one, and her magic reserves had been drained. Beyond a few simple spells Twilight was out of options. Unless…
Applejack and Winona had circled the crater when they both heard a noise. It sounded like whimpering. They exchanged looks before tiptoeing to the direction of the sound, about twenty feet away. A bunch of fur, black with a red streak, was sticking out from behind a tree, like a tail. Arriving on the other side, they laid eyes on what appeared to be a purple ball of fur with a tail sticking out. Its head was curled under both front legs and it was shaking, tiny infinitesimal cries radiating from it.
“What do ya think it is, Applejack?”
“Ah don’t know, but Ah think it’s hurt,” she said, whispering, her voice low to not scare the thing. Crouching down the bitch reached a tentative paw out. “Come on. We ain’t gonna hurt ya. Did ya wander in from the Everfree or lose yer owner?”
The purple thing lifted a head up, revealing the broken nose and two big, round, watery eyes. Twilight had a simple plan, act like an animal and hope they think she’s one, get some medical treatment, and find out where she was. Part of her still wondered if these dogs were just changelings in disguise, but decided to let luck decide. Something strange was definitely going on here. A brief twinge of guilt ran through the mare’s mind about her treatment of Nokto, but she quickly dismissed it. Nokto recognized her as a pony while these dogs didn’t and with his knowledge of pony history, warped as it may be, meant that he probably either knew or was the one that brought her here.
Twilight shrunk back, trying to look as pitiful as possible, letting out another whimper. The Applejack dog gently scratched her behind the ears, and Twilight leaned into her paw, like a dog or cat would. This is so degrading.
“Aw, you poor thing! Let’s get you back to the house and fix you up,” Applejack said. With great care the bitch reached under Twilight’s forelegs and pulled her up, laying the mare across her shoulder and holding her bottom. Applejack turned to the other dog. “Winona, you go see if Mac learned anything about Nokto. Ah hope that fool of a mage ain’t hurt none.”
Without a word Winona shot off in between the trees, a brown blur against the emerald of the grass. Applejack patted Twilight’s head and headed off in another direction, presumably to the house. They passed tree after tree that looked nearly identical, the only difference being the color of the fragrant apples hanging from the branches. Twilight ran through all the different possibilities of how she got into this situation.
I was at the wedding reception and had just finished dancing some. I went with Rainbow and Applejack to the wine table and we started drinking. I had three glasses, I think, before I cut myself off. I can’t quite remember what happened after that. Did I cast magic while drunk? Or did something else bring me here?
Twilight’s ears folded back flat against her head in shame. What if Nokto was just telling the truth? I’m so stupid! He may be dead because of what I did!
While the mare simpered in her self-pity, Applejack exited the orchard and walked into a wide field. In the distance was a farmhouse, tall and wide, made from wooden planks. Many windows with red shutters were open, giving sunlight an air entry. A porch with a similarly red roof shaded the front door. A rocking chair sat empty to one side. A few hundred paces adjacent to the house was a barn, painted a bright obnoxious red. Plots of land, the soil a deep, earthy brown from a fresh tilling, were ready to be planted. Pens of animals like chickens and pigs sat beside the plowed land. Behind that was a wide, almost endless pasture. Specks of black and white, cows in all likelihood, roamed about, searching for the best grass.
Applejack approached the house in a hurry, pushing open the door with a single paw. A main room greeted the two. Very few pieces of furniture sat around, just a few chairs and a couch, placed in a semicircle around a fireplace. One chair had an occupant, an elderly, gray dog wearing an apron. Her head drooped low, a snore like a saw through wood droning into the room. A few framed pictures hung from the walls, showing happy, smiling dogs. A staircase led to an upper floor, a banister of polished wood following the steps.
Applejack took a right and stepped through a doorway into a kitchen. Wall to wall cupboards covered the place, painted white. A sink and an oven were side by side, the oven having four stove burners on top. Polished oak countertops reflected the light coming from the open window. An old table, rectangular and sturdy, held court over four chairs of the same wood.
Placing Twilight gently down on the table, the Applejack dog gave a toothy smile. “Now don’t you run away. Ah’m gonna fix you up.”
She rummaged through a cabinet and pulled out a tin with a red cross on the front. It opened with a click, and the bitch took out a bottle of iodine and a… wand? It was several inches long and slightly curled. Three runes were engraved on the side, glowing much like Nokto’s staff did. Applejack grabbed a rag and poured some iodine onto it. “Now hold still, ‘cause this might sting.” With that she began to gently wipe at Twilight’s nose, cleaning away the blood and disinfecting any open wounds. Twilight cringed and pulled back, but Applejack held her close, cooing and shushing her.
Once the nose was clean Applejack picked up the wand. “Ah may not be as good with magic as Nokto or Mac, but Ah can at least fix a broken nose.” She leveled the wand at Twilight. Runes glowed with a pale orange light. Twilight’s nose started to tingle, and she felt the broken cartilage move around, though it didn’t hurt. It was strange, in a way. Applejack had started to pant, like she had just run a few miles nonstop. Thirty seconds passed before the wand stopped glowing. Applejack plopped hard into one of the chairs.
“Woowee. That sure took a lot out of me. Guess Ah should practice magic a bit more. Ah haven’t felt like this since last harvesting season when Mac was injured.” Applejack poked at Twilight’s nose, looking for anymore breaks or fractures. Finding none she smiled and scratched the mare behind her ears, which Twilight would begrudgingly admit felt kind of good. “See, good as new. Now just what are ya?”
Applejack began examining Twilight, running her paws through the lavender fur. They stopped at her cutiemark, and the bitch raised an eyebrow. “What’s this thing on yer butt? Is it some kinda identifying mark? Like how we brand cattle?”
Twilight was a tad horrified at the concept of branding a cow, but stopped herself when she considered that cows might not be sentient where she was. Still, branding an animal was in direct opposition with her morality, and the mare blanched at the thought of what Fluttershy would do if she found out.
“Yer coat and hair are cared for and trimmed and ya don’t seem scared of me, so ya gotta be a pet.” Applejack took one of Twilight’s forelegs in her paw and twisted it around, observing the appendage. She poked at the bottom of the hoof, finding it to be a bit soft. Twilight nearly giggled; her hooves could be a bit ticklish.
“Now are ya a dog or a bitch?” Applejack leaned her head down and took a peek at the mare’s nether regions, causing a rampaging blush to attack her face. “Yer a bitch, then.” Applejack patted her head and picked Twilight up, setting her down on the floor. “Now then, are ya hungry? Let’s find you something to eat.”
Truth be told Twilight was hungry, and her stomach growled. Applejack took a bowl from a cupboard and then a bag that had a picture of a cat on the front. She poured the brown, chunky contents into the bowl and set it in front of the mare. “There ya go. Dig in.”
Cat food. Twilight was being fed cat food. It made sense if dog-Applejack thought she was a pet. Twilight gave a tentative sniff, pushing her nose into the food. It smelled like cat food. She swallowed her pride and took a bite.
She promptly spit it back out, a saliva coated glob landing on the floor. Applejack’s smile turned into a frown. “Ya don’t like it, huh? Strange, Applebloom loves the stuff. Well yer not a cat, so Ah guess you eat something different.”
Another rummage later Applejack had secreted an apple and set it on before Twilight. The mare sniffed at it, again like a common animal. She took it in her mouth and bit into it, the hard, crunchy fruit a miracle on her tongue. She ravenously devoured the fruit down to the core, before eating that, too.
Applejack smiled. “Well it looks like you enjoy apples. Ah’ll give ya some more,” she said pulling more out. Twilight ate those like a starving animal, careful to keep up appearances that she was one. Apple juice covered her muzzle and her full stomach was content. She gave her face a lick, cleaning off the fur.
A sudden meow caught the mare’s attention. From the doorway to the main room came a cat, a very pretty specimen, her fur a pale, lustrous yellow, a streak of red curving down the spine. A pretty bow, the same shade of red, was stuck between the ears. The cat gazed at Twilight curiously before sauntering up and rubbing her side against the pony, purring with affection.
“Applebloom seems to have taken a shine to ya,” Applejack said, leaning down to give the cat a quick behind the ears. Applebloom purred again. The cat’s eyes caught sight of the bowl of food and she ran to it, shoving her face down and chomping away. It was an adorable sight, and Twilight tried very hard to not smile. It was confusing as to why the Applebloom in wherever-she-was happened to be a cat. Twilight didn’t think that she was trapped by changelings, though it could be possible this was all an elaborate illusion placed on her. Another option was that she had, in her drunken antics, fallen off of a table and hit her head and had fallen into a coma, and all of this was just her subconscious mind running wild.
Something else ran through her mind, and now it seemed like a very real possibility. Starswirl the Bearded had theorized that other worlds existed, not planets in other solar systems, but entire universes that existed outside their own. Those worlds could have any number of similarities and differences. Some ponies may have never existed, countries may be different, or genders may be flipped. Starswirl had never been able to delve much into the idea, as he died soon afterward from old age. Other ponies tried to follow up on his research, attempting to teleport to other worlds or view them through scrying, but nothing had ever come up, no glimpse of another plane of existence, no opening to some fantastical realm, nothing. The research into the subject of parallel universes had died out completely, and nopony had delved into the possibility for nearly a century.
If Twilight was indeed in a parallel universe, that begged the question, how? How was it possible to just fall asleep after a night of drunken debauchery and wake up in a completely different world? A horrifying idea crossed the mare’s mind. She had been drunk and was joking around with her friends, so she may have tried to use a complex spell while intoxicated. Drunken magic was something Celestia had lectured Twilight on heavily, warning her to never use magic while impaired. Ponies had died, or sometimes undergone worse things than death, trying to perform a spell while tired or under the influence of something. One particular incident involved a stallion that, in an attempt to impress a mare by teleporting, had turned himself inside out.
Worst of all, it might be impossible to reverse the spell. Without an idea on how the spell worked, Twilight wouldn’t be able to create a counter-spell. Undoing some spells was easy; one technique was to use a spell that cancelled out all magic with the exception of ambient magic in the area. It didn’t always work, however, as was the case with Discord. It wasn’t applicable to her current situation, either.
A loud thump of a door being thrown open started Twilight and Applejack. A voice followed, calling “Sis, we’re back!”
Winona scampered into the kitchen, nearly bowling over Twilight. She paused and looked the pony over before giving a big, toothy smile. “Ya fixed her nose!”
“Eeyup. Easy as pie, too, though it sure took a lot of my energy,” Applejack said.
While the two sisters chatted giant footfalls shook the floorboards, like the house was being shaken by a dragon. In walked the largest Diamond Dog Twilight had ever seen, even bigger than Nokto. His head nearly scraped the ceiling. Muscle, hardened from years of labor, snaking and weaved across his form like armor. Arms thicker than tree trunks hung by his sides, the paws big enough to cover Twilight’s head. Red fur, thick and well groomed, the same shade as Applebloom’s bow could barely hide the musculature. Long, floppy ears and sleepy eyes gave the impression of a dunce, but his gaze, a deep, piercing look, reflected common sense and intelligence.
“This the thing ya found?” he asked, a deep, accented voice rumbling about the kitchen.
“Yep, and she’s just the sweetest little thing ever. Likes apples, too. Ah just wonder where she came from. She’s obviously used to dealing with dogs, so Ah think she could be some exotic pet. Anyway, what about Nokto? Did he get hurt?”
“Eeyup.”
Twilight’s ears folded back and she scuffed at the floor. None noticed the action, with the exception of Mac. Applejack’s face turned to a worried frown.
“How bad is it?” Her tone was soft.
“Not too bad, from what the guards could tell. Apparently he had several broken bones and a terrible shock to his internal leylines, but aside from that he’s surprisingly fine. According to them a large amount of magic was released all at once. The guards think that Nokto’s staff broke, but they couldn’t be sure. He’s being brought to the college hospital, so we won’t know much for the next couple of days. Only thing we can do is wait it out.”
“Sucks that Nokto’s hurt, though Ah’m glad it ain’t too serious. Anyway, we’re gonna gave to get down to the orchard and move those dead trees. Whatever landed in that spot sure did a number on the ground.” Applejack sighed. “It’s gonna be a lot of work.”
Mac placed a powerful paw on Applejack’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry none, sis. Ah’ll see to it myself. You can finish up the rest of your chores while Winona takes care of the, uh…” Here the dog paused, his eyes looking into Twilight’s. “We do need to figure out what this thing is. If ya found it near that crater, then it may have something to do with it. Ah wonder if it ain’t some fancy pet of Nokto’s. Winona?”
“Yeah?”
“You said whatever hit the orchard looked like a ball and kinda glowed purple, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“That sounds like magic, and Nokto’s pretty good at raw energy manipulation, so he may have cast a shield ‘round this feller before the explosion hit. Though it could’ve been somethin’ else.” Mac’s last sentence was accompanied by his eyes shifting and focusing on Twilight’s horn.
Twilight involuntarily gulped. Equestria’s Mac was intelligent, despite his quiet, reserved nature, and it was safe to say this Mac was too. Applejack had mentioned that Mac was better at magic than she was, so she assumed he had received a thorough education. That, of course, meant that dog-Mac could have knowledge of ponies. Even if it was a brief mention in a history book, he could possibly jeopardize the charade. Best make the animal part count.
Cautiously the mare walked around the kitchen, sniffing at the floor. Her head was low to the ground, observing the dogs from the corner of her eye. Right now she was acting much like a cat would, getting a feel for the temporary residence. Mac had left the kitchen, which Twilight was grateful for.
“All right Winona, Ah’m heading out. Take care of the critter and don’t let her get inta any trouble. Oh, and if Granny wakes up tell her what’s going on,” Applejack spoke.
“’Kay, sis. Don’t overwork yourself,” Winona replied without facing her sister. Instead the dog had lowered herself to Twilight’s level and was running a paw through the unicorn’s mane, marveling at the stripe of red running through the black.
“Why’re ya so colorful? It doesn’t look dyed, so is it to ward off predators? Ah remember Mac tellin’ me that some bugs have lotsa bright colors on ‘em to show that they’re poisonous. Are ya poisonous, girl?”
Suddenly a delighted smile found its way on Winona’s face. “Do ya play fetch?”
Twilight stifled a groan. This was going to be a long day.
Dorgath searched for his quarry, his muscles taut and ready to strike, tensed underneath his bone white coat. His head swiveled in an agonizingly slow arc, looking for any sign of movement. No sound existed in the room; everything was quiet and peaceful, despite the tension filled air. The emperor frowned. It shouldn’t be this hard to find his enemy.
“Where o where has my little Lapis gone? She must have vanished off the face of the planet! I just can’t find her!”
A tiny giggle came from his left, underneath the bed. Dorgath walked over and lowered himself to his paws and knees, turning his head to look under the wooden frame that supported the mattress. A golden colored sheet obscured his view. “Did I just hear something from under the bed?”
Another bleat of laughter crept from beneath the bed. “I think I did. Is it a monster? Or is it…” Dorgath trailed off, lowering his voice. “Lapis!” he shouted, pulling the sheet up. A shriek of mock terror greeted his ears as the tiny, blue dragoness rushed out from under the bed, tiny scaled claws slapping on marble floors. Her plain white dress rippled about her knees as she ran, her father hot on her heels. Dorgath charged after her, bounding over the bed in a single leap, roaring like an angry manticore! He landed on all fours, the hair on his back risen.
Lapis used her small size to her advantage, sliding on her stomach into a bookfort that had been constructed earlier, made from colorful children books, the print in large, bold letters. Dorgath copied the dragon, comically sliding forward with his arms outstretched, like a superhero flying in the clouds. The mighty Diamond Dog crashed into the fortress, the paper ramparts no match for such a force. Books tumbled and fell, trapping the once great emperor and his prey.
Or so he thought. Lapis had already gone through the other side and vaulted over a wall constructed from sturdy grammar tomes, skidding along the floor and spinning to meet her attacker. A pile of books haphazardly cloaked the dog, all four limbs sticking out. One paw quivered like a jelly dessert. Lapis moved towards the catastrophe, ready to run at a moment’s notice.
Without warning the two paws shot from the books and gripped the baby dragon around the middle, lifting her high into the air. Dorgath stood to his full height, giving his daughter a steely glare while she twisted to escape from the grasp of her captor, chortling all the while. The emperor moved his face to within an inch of hers and whispered “Got you.”
In a blur he threw Lapis into the air, so high she could touch the vaulted ceiling with a claw. The dragon laughed and laughed as Dorgath caught her and repeated the motion, much to the joy of the tiny reptile. For the next few minutes they played, chasing one another around the bedroom, jumping on the plush, oversized goose feather bed, and generally making a mess. From the crying pile of books, their pages crumpled and covers bent, to the scattered toys and stuffed animals sitting in numerous nooks and crannies, beady marble eyes watching the father and daughter have fun.
One thing in the world gave Emperor Dorgath Forge true, unlimited happiness, and that was playing with Lapis. Around ten years ago, back when he was only eighteen, while his father still sat upon the obsidian throne, the mastiff had gone on a hunting expedition into the Everfree Forest along with a few guards and some friends. Manticores had become a recent problem, the devilish creatures leaving the shadowy confines of the ancient trees and olden groves to attack farms or travelers near the forest’s edge. They spent three days in the Everfree, stalking about, hiding beneath dense foliage and tracking prints in the soft loam. Despite the reports no sign was found of the cats, just a disturbing lack of prey animals.
On the third day Dorgath had hit pay dirt. A few miles in, past a thin river and hidden away in the confines of a secluded glen, a pack of the things, over twenty, had been found resting in the sun, exposed bellies soaking up the warmth. An assault from the trees of arrows tipped with poison and heads five inches wide had taken out more than half, and the rest were dispatched with sword and spear and just a bit of combat magic. One guard had suffered a gash to the arm, but no worse for wear. An exploration of the surrounding territory had revealed a cave, almost perfectly circular, drilled into the side of a hill. A dragon’s cave. The fetid smell of decay aroused suspicions that a local dragon, a species that was none to hunt manticore, had died.
It turned out to be true. Inside the cave was the rotting body of a once noble dragon, the bones still coated with chunks of flesh. A sizable hoard of gold and jewels was cause for much rejoicing, but Dorgath had been drawn to something else entirely. A clutch of eggs, untended by the heat of the mother. They had been collected and brought back to the palace, and the mages gave a grim prognosis; without a mother the eggs would die. Dorgath had tried anyway, heating the eggs for weeks. His efforts were greatly rewarded.
Lapis, sweet, adorable little Lapis, the cutest thing he had ever seen. Her large, shiny eyes looking out on the world, her blue scales soft and supple. Lapis had considered Dorgath to be her parent on first sight, and the dog had answered, officially adopting her as his daughter and crowning her as a member of the royal family, much to the outrage of the nobles and his father. Dorgath had issued a challenge to any noble that took offense, including his father; a duel. Many challenged the young dog, and all were completely and utterly destroyed, leaving no doubt in the minds of the nobility that Dorgath would defend Lapis with his last breath.
The sharp sound of a set of knuckles on the wooden door was followed by a voice. “Emperor Dorgath. Your presence is requested in the situation room.”
With a loud, shuddering sigh Dorgath leaned down and gave Lapis a pat on the head, running his hand along her brilliant purple spines. “Daddy has to go now, sweetie. Be good for Mrs. Borswater when she gets here, okay?”
“Aaw. But I want to play with you some more,” Lapis whined, visibly deflating like a popped balloon. Her earflaps drooped. It was all Dorgath could do to keep from ignoring the request.
“Look, honey, I want to play with you some more, too, but I can’t. My job is important remember?”
“Yeah. But Mrs. Borswater isn’t as fun as you. She smells like mothballs, too,” the little dragon huffed.
Dorgath snorted, suppressing a laugh. Mrs. Borswater, a portly bitch that acted as Lapis’s caretaker did, indeed, smell strongly of mothballs. But she had been Dorgath’s caretaker when he was a pup, and was the best dog for the job. Playful, but with a modicum of discipline. Dorgath grimaced when he realized the old bitch would have a fit at the state of his daughter’s room. He could expect a lecture later in the evening.
Truth be told, she was the only dog that truly scared him.
“It isn’t nice to say that dogs smell like mothballs, Lapis.” His voice tried to be stern, but it was obvious the undercurrent of humor. “Though I have an idea on how to make it up to you.”
“How?”
“Later we’ll go and get some donuts from that place you like. What was it called again?”
“Doggy Joe’s ! Do you mean it?”
“Of course I do. Now try and tidy up the room a bit. You’ll catch an earful from Borswater otherwise.” Dorgath gave his daughter a pat, who then spun around to face the cataclysmic mess that was once a bedroom. She sighed as her daddy stepped from the room and closed the door behind him.
***
The Royal Palace, once a fort no bigger than a barn and surrounded by stone and wooden walls had grown and changed over the centuries, with numerous add-ons and renovations done to ensure it withstood the unforgiving elements or a siege. About five hundred years ago it was completely stripped down to the foundations and rebuilt into what the citizens of Senpaga knew and saw today. Rooms and chambers broke off from hallways, serving a myriad of functions. Servants either lived in the small but cozy southwest wing or had their own homes in the city. The royal family was situated in a series of rooms that served as an almost miniature house with a castle erected around it. Personal bedrooms and bathrooms were connected to hallways that ended in personal studies, libraries, and kitchens, all for the comfort and wellbeing of the royals.
Dorgath, flanked on both sides by guards wearing a heavy, plated armor trudged loudly to the situation room, an appendage that stuck out from the main body of the throne room and was used for private matters and secret meetings, though Dorgath himself would regularly take breaks inside with a bottle of fine wine on the pretense of official business. Rarely did it have much use, the mastiff preferring to be briefed in the throne room.
Soon they arrived to a door stamped into a hallway wall, a nondescript, dull thing that looked more like a supply closet than the entrance to a meeting room. Dorgath grabbed the cold, steel handle and looked to his two guards. “Wait outside.”
Both nodded and took up their positions, stiffening up like statues on either side of the door. Dorgath turned the handle and entered the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. Inside it was warm and comfortable, a moderate sized room filled with soft, red velvet furniture arranged in a circle around a solid table. Unlike the stone floors of the hallway the situation room had a thick, dark blue carpet, silky under the emperor’s bare feet. A fireplace housed a few measly, smoldering coals, barely any life or heat left in them. On one of the couches was the all too familiar sight of Professor Sapphire, even more nervous than he had been in the throne room. The Corgi visibly shook like a prisoner before an execution. He clung tightly to his miniscule staff, knuckles white under the fur. Beside him stood a Dalmatian, about a head shorter than Dorgath himself, mottle with spots and flecks of night-black on the otherwise white coat. A chainmail vest, shining pale silver in the light radiating from the magical lamps on the walls was wrapped around his chest, while his pants were an apathetic grey. Massive forearms wore metal bracers, bronze colored, runes etched into the metal.
“Captain Sleipnir, Professor Sapphire,” he greeted. “I’m assuming this has to do with the phenomenon yesterday. Have you found anything?”
The captain stepped forward, completely formal, nary a hint of emotion. He lifted an arm to his head and saluted. “We haven’t found any physical evidence of a foreign presence, but an incident occurred a little while ago that may hold significance, your Highness.”
“And what would that be, Captain?”
“Around two hours ago, at about noon, a magical explosion was witnessed on the outskirts of the city, out near the farmlands. It was massive and the magic released was very dense, but luckily only one dog was injured, a male. Luckily his injuries won’t be fatal.”
“Do you have an ID on him?” Dorgath asked.
“I think Professor Sapphire should explain further. If you would be so kind, Professor?”
Dorgath turned to the professor, who cowered low and looked ready to faint. The old Corgi took a breath and managed to choke out a sentence. “His name is Nokto Tresbulon, your majesty, and he is my assistant.”
A thick, oppressing silence engulfed the room for a moment, like a person’s breath smothered beneath a pillow. Dorgath narrowed his eyes at the miniscule dog. “So you mean to tell me, that a day after the phenomenon that you have been monitoring and researching stops, your personal assistant suffers injuries in some event that could either be a tragic accident, or some form of attack? That appears suspicious, Sapphire.”
“I know that it seems that way, but I have no idea what happened! Nokto is my assistant, that’s true, and he knew about my research and helped to collect information, but believe me when I say that I don’t know about this incident. The explosion was likely caused by the destruction of Nokto’s staff, something that could have occurred from a simple flaw in a complex spell. This is all a coincidence, I assure you!”
Captain Sleipnir cut in. “It might be a coincidence, but that is highly unlikely. You have connections with the current Duke of Stonewall, do you not?”
Sapphire leaned back like he was struck at the look of malice Dorgath wore on his face. A low growl rumbled in the massive dog’s throat. “Is it true, Sapphire?”
“Y-yes, I was the personal tutor for the current duke when he was a pup, but that was over twenty years ago! I severed my connections with the Stonewalls when I began teaching at the college!”
Sleipnir sneered at the professor. “Severed your connections, did you? I looked into the backers of that little monitoring project that detected the first increase of magic particles over the city, and guess who paid to have the first tower built? Duke Leon Stonewall, from his personal treasury, no less.
“I also heard about a conflict that young Nokto had with Embressa, a cousin of the Stonewalls. Reportedly Nokto behaved inappropriately to her, but a bit of digging revealed that she’d wanted to get into bed with him for a while, and he spurned her advances. He became an enemy of the Stonewalls."
“Do you want to know what I think happened? Either Nokto was working with you and the Stonewalls on something and you decided to tie up a loose end, or he learned something he shouldn’t have about your activities, and he was killed.”
“That’s preposterous! I would never harm Nokto! He’s been with me for two years!” the professor shouted, voice cracking like a whip. His expression was caught somewhere between fury and mortal terror.
Sleipnir turned and addressed Dorgath. “I suggest that we relieve him of his staff and place him in a holding cell. If it turns out that he’s telling the truth, he’ll be released. But if not…” He trailed off, the silence having more weight than any spoken word.
“Sapphire, relinquish your staff and follow Sleipnir to the cells.” His eyes narrowed. “Do it for your own sake.”
Tears welled in the corners of Sapphire’s eyes. He suppressed a sob before turning the staff sideways and holding it out to Sleipnir, who wrapped it in a massive paw. The Corgi couldn’t even bear to gaze at the two larger dogs. With agonizing slowness Sapphire stood up and followed the captain out from the room, but not before Sleipnir turned to Dorgath.
“Do you wish to follow, your Highness?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Send for a servant to bring me some wine. Anything will do. It’s been a long day.” Dorgath gave a weary sigh.
Soon he was alone in the room, only the warm air as a companion. Had he been mistaken in assuming that Sapphire was somehow working with Stonewall? Even if Dorgath was wrong, it could destroy the professor’s standing among his peers. Academia and politics intermingled and could hardly be separated. Minor members of noble houses usually had three options in life: the military, the clergy, and the college. The Imperial College had significant sway in the court, and the more support one could obtain from academics, the more power they could wield. The college wasn’t just a place of learning, but a weapon that possessed enough influence to win wars and steer the fate of empires. A phrase commonly tossed around is ‘Emperor, Imperial College, and Noble Houses.’ The three greatest forces in the empire, by order of power. The college owned swaths of land big enough to form a country, and even had their own fortresses and a military force. One fortress was located on the very tip of an island hanging off the east coast; Fort Hatten, they called it, and the college rented it to the royal family.
A sudden chill sent a shiver of wariness dance down Dorgath’s spine, like all the happiness had been drained from the air. Without turning he spoke.
“Hello, Chrysalis. I take it that you found something?”
The changeling gave an open-mouthed smile, showing off her fangs. “I did indeed, Dorgath. And I think you’ll find it very interesting.”
Swiftly moving through the sky the sky-carriage touched down on the long strip of dirt within the castle walls that served as a runway for creatures of flight and flying vehicles. The two pegasi in front that flew the construction of high quality wood and light metal stopped, digging their armored hooves into the ground and fanning large, white wings out to the side. The carriage jostled and swayed a bit before becoming still. A moment passed and the rectangular door on the side creaked open.
Princess Mi Amore Cadenza stepped out into the strong noon light, a paragon gracing the world with her presence. Lithe, slender legs moved at a rapid pace, her immaculate pink, blue and yellow mane briefly billowing in a soft wind. Her pink fur matched well with the gold of her regalia, four slippers of shining metal and a simple tiara. She was the picture of perfection, if walking a bit hurriedly. One would assume she had just been late for tea if they saw her on the streets.
They couldn’t be more wrong, however. On the inside the alicorn’s mind was a maelstrom of worry and fear, the emotions raging through her body from the tip of her horn and twisting in a macabre dance in her stomach, which at the moment felt like hot lead had settled in the bottom. Four days, four days and no sign of Twilight Sparkle. Her sister-in-law up and disappeared overnight, no sign of a struggle, no evidence of foul play, and just after the changeling invasion. Cadence gave an angry snort. If those parasites had anything to do with Twilight’s absence they would pay dearly.
Across the open courtyard and field of grass Cadence walked to a side entrance stamped against the brilliant white of the castle. Two guards stood at attention on either side, both unicorns, not garbed in golden armor, but in the harsh, grey, enchanted steel that served as protection during times of war or national emergencies. One stepped forward as she approached.
“Milady, we’re required to perform a scan to determine whether you’re a changeling or have recently come in contact with any strange or dangerous magics recently. I hope you understand.” His voice was cold and official.
I don’t have time for this you ass .
“That’s perfectly all right, sir,” the princess spoke with a fake smile, the one reserved for spoilt nobles and brownnosers.
With a nod both sparked their horns with a cheerful red aura, the magic washing over her, snaking into her body and making the mare shiver. The spell was designed to detect any form of magic that one wouldn’t normally find in a pony. It scanned magic both innate and active, giving a profile that could be used to determine anything from species to ancestry. After what happened with the changelings and Twilight, Cadence really couldn’t blame them for the massive increase in security, even if it hindered and angered the princess.
A few seconds passed and both were finished. They gave stiff bows. “You may proceed, Princess.”
Cadence didn’t bother with a reply, just a tiny nod before she walked through the door and into the castle itself. A long hallway, spotless and brilliant from countless scrubbings by lemon-scented cleaning products, stretched s few hundred feet in both directions. The princess turned right, ignoring the bows and greetings of servants. Twists and turns soon lead to a tall oak door, the grains ancient and smooth. Cadence grasped it with telekinesis and opened it.
Inside sat Princess Celestia, a round table in front of her. Two teacups and saucers were laid out, along with a jade teapot, a wisp of steam rising from the spout. A bowl filled to the brim with sugar cubes was between the two cups. Celestia turned and gazed at her niece.
“I take it you received my message, judging from the tension in your shoulders and that scowl on your face. Tell me, did you wear it on the entire walk here?”
Cadence shook her head. “No, I faked a smile the entire time. Now tell me, why haven’t you been interrogating the changeling you found?”
Celestia motioned to the chair opposite from her with a hoof. “Sit down and have a cup of tea, then we’ll talk. Most ponies wouldn’t notice, but you’re tired. You haven’t slept much, have you?”
“No, I haven’t,” Cadence admitted. It was true; the stress of Twilight’s disappearance had stolen sleep from her. She would simply lie in bed, tossing and fidgeting in the sheets or staring at the ceiling, worse-case scenarios running about in her mind. Having a twenty-four hour guard detail assigned to her hotel room hadn’t helped, either.
Reluctantly the mare sat down on the velvet chair, Celestia gently levitating the teapot and pouring a stream of steaming brown liquid into Cadence’s cup. A faint smell of peaches reached her nose.
“How many cubes?”
“Huh?” Cadence asked, looking up from the tea. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. What was it?”
“How many cubes? Of sugar, I mean.”
“Oh. Three, I guess.”
Celestia dropped three of the pure white cubes into the tea and gave it a small swirl with her magic, the sugar crystals dissolving away. She smiled at Cadence. “Three cubes. You usually go for one. You even told me once that you don’t like your food or drink too sweet.”
“Well today’s different. I’m in the mood for change.” Cadence suppressed the urge to shout at the monarch. Celestia was very old and very crafty, and there was always a reason behind her words, even if one would be hard pressed to find it. The chatter could be a way to distract Cadence from her worries. Many a time she had come to Celestia with a problem or question, and the other alicorn had weaseled her way out with words and left Cadence to deal with it herself.
“Change, hmm. There’s been quite a lot of that, recently. Your marriage, for one.”
“And Twilight’s disappearance. Don’t forget about that change.” Cadence almost smiled at the twitch of muscles on her aunt’s face, an almost imperceptible tick that telegraphed when Celestia felt a strong emotion. Equestria’s reigning princess could wear a poker face that most couldn’t read, but Cadence had grown familiar with her mannerisms. She lifted the teacup with her blue magic and took a sip. It was that tea, the one Celestia only broke out during celebrations, or when something serious needed to be discussed. The flavor was fruity, but hard to place, and the pink alicorn had yet to figure out what the tea actually was. It might not even be tea, for all she knew.
A hint of a frown crossed Celestia’s muzzle. “Yes. Not all change is good, I’m afraid. Speaking of change, or in this case, changelings, I want to speak to you about the one we’ve found.”
“I’m half-parts curious and angry over why you told me you haven’t been interrogating the thing. Is it just refusing to speak, or is it something else?”
Celestia gazed out the window to her left, the view of a courtyard and part of Canterlot visible. It always seemed beautiful to her, to see how the city had grown over the past few centuries. Now it was dull and morose, mourning for its savior. She sighed.
“He has spoken, and we’ve learned a few things.” She paused.
“Well? What have you learned?” Cadence asked impatiently, voice laced with irritation.
“His name is 7483B. He was hatched on January seventeenth. He’s eight years old. He likes playing hoofball with his friends 7477C and 7485B. He hopes to be a Praetorian someday, which is their equivalent of our Royal Guard. And he likes chocolate chip cookies.”
Celestia observed the confusion on Cadence’s face as she processed all the information. Cadence mumbled the statements over to herself before giving her aunt an incredulous look.
“That sounds like something a foal would say.”
“Very astute. He is indeed a foal. Or a grub, as the changelings call their young ones. I left him in one of the rooms we use to house foals and gave him some toys. Last I saw of him he was coloring a picture of some trees. He’s quite adept at art, I must say.”
Celestia took a long sip of her tea, eyes closed in enjoyment of the taste. A bit of steam wafted into her nose and she gave an inaudible sigh of pleasure. It was always a joy to drink a nice cup of tea.
Cadence was far from content, however. “So let me get this straight. You managed to capture a changeling, but it happens to be a foal. But does it know anything of importance?”
“Well,” Celestia replied, setting her cup back down onto the saucer, “The changelings were assured of their victory, because they planted various hideouts around Equestria, filled with grubs. They assumed that after they took Canterlot the rest of the nation would fall easily, so they moved the grubs to places where there would be large supplies of food. Ponies, in this case.
“However, Chrysalis lost, so the caretakers up and fled with the grubs, only 7483B was left behind on accident. A bit sad, really.”
“Okay,” Cadence said, “I get why you can’t interrogate the changeling. He’s a foal and we likely won’t get anything useful from him. But why did you send for me specifically? Your message said you wouldn’t question the changeling until I arrived, but that’s a lie, isn’t it? I’m not here to help with the search, I’m not here to comfort my husband, I’m here because of the changeling. So why?”
Celestia paused for a minute or so, gazing idly out the window while Cadence grew even more impatient. Finally the white alicorn turned and gave Cadence a stern, hard look.
“Now you can say no to this request, but I want you to promise that you won’t freak out or become hysterical. Can you do that?” asked Celestia.
Cadence narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t going to be something unreasonable, is it?”
Celestia smiled and shook her head. “Oh, no. It isn’t unreasonable at all.”
“Fine. I promise not to freak out. Now what is it?”
“Nothing much. I just want you to take care of 7483B, teach him about Equestrian society and how pony values. That sort of stuff.”
A silence of genuinely epic proportions filled the room, the kind of silence that nobody would ever want to encounter. Cadence’s left eye twitched and her face went through several contortions that didn’t seem possible. Her cheeks became red and she could hear the pounding of her own heart, beating an angry staccato.
“Now, Cadence, you promised that you wouldn’t freak out, so please, don’t. Besides, unbridled fury is quite unbecoming of a princess. So take another sip of your tea and calm down-’’
Celestia was cut off by Cadence lifting the top from the teapot and, in one fell swoop of magic, creating a funnel that sent all the tea directly into the face of the most powerful being in Equestria. Her pure white coat was stained a light brown, and the steaming liquid dripped off her face and neck, forming a puddle on the floor. Celestia, despite her favorite tea being magicked all over her, retained the same serene, dignified mask she always did. Well, as dignified as someone can look covered in scalding leaf juice.
“That was completely uncalled for.”
“Uncalled for!” Cadence screeched. “You want to know what’s uncalled for? Asking me to take care of a changeling after what those bugs did to me and Shining! Or did you forget the part where they locked me up in a cave for a month, all the while that bitch of a queen slept with my husband? Hmm? Did you forget that? Because I sure didn’t!”
Cadence had gotten off her chair and stood up, legs spread wide and wings fanned out. She was panting heavily, her eyes glowing with an angry fire. Celestia simply looked down at her niece with nary a hint of emotion. Her horn glowed with a golden aura and the tea covering her body and the floor began turning to steam, hissing as it evaporated. In a few seconds she was completely clean.
“Cadence, I know that you’re upset.”
“Damn right I’m upset!”
Celestia continued. “And you have every right to be. But let me make this clear to you: you will not act like a petulant, spoiled brat in my presence. If you do then I will treat you like one.”
A wide, wooden paddle materialized in a flash of light, held aloft by magic. “I seem to remember just one occasion when I had to spank you, and I don’t wish to do so again. But mark my words, I will if you continue to act this way. Now sit down and listen to what I have to say.”
The last bit was spoken with authority, the kind that came from over a millennium of dealing with politics. Reluctantly Cadence slinked back to the chair and sat down, crossing her forelegs and glowering at the table.
“There now, isn’t that better?” Celestia asked with a smile.
“I know that you hate the changelings, so tell me, what do you think we should do with 7483B? Lock him in a jail cell?”
“I don’t think we should put him in a cell! I mean, you told me yourself that he was a foal, so I guess just keep him secured somewhere and give him back to the changelings, whenever you find them.”
“So you hate changelings,” Celestia said, “But you don’t hate him. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, yeah. I guess.”
Celestia leaned back and gave Cadence a level glare. “But he’s a changeling. You hate changelings. Ergo, you hate him.”
“I, well, no. I don’t hate him, but…” Cadence trailed off. She silently cursed to herself. Once again Celestia had used the pink mare’s own words against her. Cadence couldn’t tell what her aunt was getting at.
“Tell me, Cadence,” Celestia said, drinking the last of what little tea was left in her cup, “If one member of a species does something evil, does that make the entire species evil?”
“No, but I don’t see what that has to do with this situation.”
“It has everything to do with this situation, Cadence. So if several members of a species does something evil, does that make them evil?”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“So if an army of that species does something evil, does that make that species evil?”
“Again, no, and I think I know what it is you’re trying to do here. You’re going to say that just because we were invaded by the changelings, doesn’t mean we should hate them, right?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Cadence. I remember when the griffons invaded five-hundred years ago. Even after we won and received reparations and extra territory, ponies still had a strong hatred for griffons for nearly a century, and it took massive amounts of effort to curb that. Today the griffons and ponies are allies, despite the conflict. Besides, I recall Chrysalis saying that she was providing food for her subjects. While we don’t know the circumstances behind that, and we would have helped if the changelings had asked, she may have viewed it as the only option.
“Chrysalis must be punished, I agree, but we shouldn’t hate the changelings as a race. According to 7483B Chrysalis has been their queen for over a century, and it may have been her propaganda over the years that caused the war. She may have been power hungry, or there could have been another reason.
“I also ask you to think about this: if I commanded my ponies to raise an army and invade some foreign land some would be against it, but many would rise up and throw their lives away for me. Combined with the right propaganda, I could have hundreds of thousands of troops ready to annihilate an entire race.”
Cadence gave a defeated sigh. “I’ll concede that the war was caused by their queen, but why do you want me to take care of the changeling? Surely others are more qualified?”
“I chose you, Cadence, because even now you still hold hatred in your heart towards the changelings, and hatred leads down roads that should never be traveled. Forcing you to take care of 7483B will help you put aside your hatred. Think of it like pulling an infected tooth. You experience a brief, sharp pain, but it stops the infection from spreading. This won’t just help you, but hopefully the rest of Equestria. If they see the Princess of Love, who was harmed the most by the changelings, put aside hatred and care for one, this may help foster relations with the changelings in the future, and hopefully lead to a peaceful coexistence.”
Cadence mulled over the words of her aunt. Whenever she thought of the changelings, she felt anger, burning like a fire in her chest, along with fear crawling up her spine like a spider of ice. Her emotions were telling her to say no, to scream even more at Celestia for suggesting such a thing, to grab a flyswatter and some bug spray. On the other hoof the logical side of her mind was telling her to agree, that it made sense for the ruler of a nation to suggest such a thing.
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
A smile the size of a mile leapt onto Celestia’s face. “Thank you, Cadence. I’ll take you to meet him tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow?”
Celestia gave a mischievous smirk. “Because you’re exhausted and need rest. Also both you and your husband could use some stress relief, so I’ve added in some time for that.”
Had Cadence been drinking tea she would have spewed it all over the table. “A-aunt Celestia! Don’t say that!” A bright red blush crept onto the pink mare’s cheeks.
“Why ever not? Is it not common for married couples to have sex?”
“I don’t want to talk about this stuff with my aunt! It’s weird!”
“It isn’t weird. Sex is a natural and beautiful thing. Why I remember once when I-“
Celestia was cut off as Cadence gave a brief goodbye and rushed from the room, nearly tearing the door off the hinges in an attempt to get out.
“Ask the guards where Shining’s room is! They’ll take you to him! Hope you get lucky!”
“Shut up, Aunt Celly!”
Roaring with unmatched fury, the storm tore its way across the west coast of the Griffon Kingdom, blotting out the sun and darkening the sky until not a sliver of light could be seen. It was an all-encompassing, omnipotent sort of thing, this storm was. Bulbous, deformed clouds with black bottoms sucked out all joy. Wind, harsh and judgmental rushed from the Shining Sea to assault the rocky crags and sharp, stone covered beaches. Deafening cracks of thunder echoed again and again, never once letting up or quieting. Lightning snaked in brief but brilliant flashes in the fortress of clouds, flashes so bright to be blinding. Rain, colder than it had reason to be poured down on the unfortunate ground and whatever lurked there. Spring had come to the Griffon Kingdom.
Out in the wide, deep reaches of the ocean an island sat, a relatively tiny thing in comparison to others in the kingdom. Though small, it served a necessary duty to the kingdom, for it was the first line of defense against a Diamond Dog attack. Nothing but a fortress of the oldest and hardest stone sat on the island, piled high in misshapen and haphazard ways. Blocks several times taller and wider than any griffon were stacked together from ages gone by. A wooden fort eventually gave way to a stone one, but that one had been destroyed, and the next one built on the corpse. So it had continued. It was an unlucky fortress, to be sure, and no soldier in their right mind would volunteer to be stationed on such a dull speck of rock. Only new recruits and those that offended the higher-ups found themselves marooned on the desolate place that eventually became known as Verbannt Isle: the island of fuck-ups and expendables.
And Gilda had somehow, for some reason, despite years of dedicated, impeccable service to the kingdom, with not a single blemish on her record, who had taken a city with only five troops during the Zebra Wars, ended up in this place. Not once had she cursed at a superior officer. She had always followed orders. When she was enrolled in the Military Academy she graduated a year ahead of time at the top of her class. By the gods, she was going to go places. And she had gone to this hellhole. Gilda gritted her beak so hard it hurt. She could still see that amused look when her Commander told her about her new assignment as the First Lieutenant of Verbannt Isle. Bastard.
Currently the eagless was sitting at her desk, eyeing with an ever-growing sense of dread the paperwork that had piled high over the past few hours. It wasn’t anything of importance, just documents that needed to be signed about the shipments of supplies brought in by ship. A flash of lightning jumped through the hardy glass window and illuminated the room for a moment, brighter than the brass oil lantern hanging from a hook on the ceiling. Gilda turned and observed the rain with her golden eyes. There was so much it was impossible to make out any shape, just a few indistinct blobs. It was supposed to be noon, but it sure didn’t look like it.
Again the paperwork called to her, like a dying animal intent on taking its killer to the grave alongside itself. There was the regular shipment of dried meat, jerky, and fish. Some fruit, though it wouldn’t be anywhere near fresh. Their fruit was always the kind preserved and stuffed inside jars. Some would no doubt be rotten, of course. Only the best for Verbannt.
Gilda ran a talon through her purple-tipped feathers, resisting the urge to run herself through with a dagger. Despite her fate to be trapped on this island until retirement, she resisted the urge to end her own life. She wasn’t serious about killing herself, but every single day she would contemplate tying a rock to herself and jumping into the sea. At least that would give the Isle a bit of excitement, losing their First Lieutenant to suicide. Keep the boys entertained for a bit.
That was another thing she hated about Verbannt. There were plenty of tiercels on the island, but not a single one she would bother to fuck. Back on the mainland there were no shortage of attractive tiercels to hook up with, but it seemed that the military had decided to send all the ugly ones to this piece of crap island. None had the impressive wingspans she desired or the muscle needed to survive a night with her. Hell, the sexiest thing on the island was a rock right on the edge of the coast shaped like a dick, balls and all. Flying by that thing during patrols had given Gilda some ideas.
Sweet talon sheaths. She was desperate. First a rock and then what? A Diamond Dog?
Being trapped on the island had been slowly wearing away at her sanity. Only a year and already her psyche had taken a major blow. It wasn’t just the isolation, but the occupants she shared the island with. Fresh, green recruits that had just reached adulthood and left the nest made up about half the soldiers, and all were complete and utter morons. They strutted around with their chests puffed out, proud that they’d been stationed at the nation’s first line of defense against a possible attack by the Diamond Dog Empire, while not realizing that there was no chance in Tartarus that the dogs would ever attack. Emperor Dorgath was a peace-lover, and he preferred diplomacy over war. That, and the troubles brought on by his own aristocracy kept him occupied with keeping his throne.
It was a bit ironic that Dorgath, who favored peace, could probably secure the throne by starting a war. Just spread some propaganda to the masses about how hostile a nation is being, gather support by the war-hungry nobles and he’d establish himself as a hero. Heroes were always in demand.
The second half of the island’s troops were minor criminals, those that were court-martialed for disobeying orders or committing one a small offense, like property damage during a drunken fight; something of that nature. Depending on the nature of the crime or who was affected you could end up on the island for a measly year or a decade.
Gilda was different from both of those. No crime had been committed under her name, and her years of experience spoke for itself. It wasn’t fair that she had wound up on this rock, and the only reason she could fathom as to why she was shipped her was due to jealousy. Gilda hadn’t come from a noble house or powerful family. The eagless was the second hatched of a family of farmers, with barely any bits to its name. She, however, had worked unbelievably hard, studying for twelve hours per weekday and training during the weekends to get into the Military Academy, and she had succeeded. Then came her impressive performance and years of service and victories. A few of the houses had grown to hate her for showing up those under its banners, but Gilda had thought she was safe from their wrath, but apparently not.
A sharp rapping on the door captured Gilda’s attention. She gave a gruff “Enter” and the door to the spartan office creaked open, the head of the smallest tiercel Gilda had ever seen peeking around the entrance. The top of his red-feathered head barely came to her chest. His uniform, a standard brown vest that covered his barrel and had holes for the wings, looked unwashed. His pupils danced about the wide eyes, his entire body shaking like a treetop in twister. Awkwardly he shuffled over to the desk in a three-legged gait, one set of talons holding a tan envelope.
“F-first Lieutenant, I have a letter for you,” he stammered out, holding the envelope out with such trepidation you’d think Gilda would rip his arm off.
A letter? Now that was interesting. She hadn’t gotten a letter in ages.
With a deft swing of her talons she plucked the letter from his grip, scanning the surface for the sender. The script was written in a deep black ink in a spidery, neat writing, clearly marking out her name and Verbannt Isle. There was no return address or anything that would discern the sender, which was odd; the post wouldn’t send something without a return address. The envelope was sealed shut with a blot of wax, stamped with the profile of what looked like a goat with two misshapen horns.
Gilda waved it in the face of the griffon, who squeaked in fright and shied backwards. “Who sent this? There isn’t any return address.”
“I d-don’t know ma’am. It was in with all the other letters that the courier ship brought. I was told to bring it to you.” The tiercel looked like he was about to pass out from fright.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Gilda with a sigh. “Just get out of my sight.”
In what seemed to be a streak of red the griffon scrambled out of the office and shut the door behind him a little too loudly, the sound echoing like the thunder outside. Gilda observed the letter some more, trying to find any hint of the sender. It was perfectly normal with the exception of the seal. A goat with two different horns? Seals normally had initials or a family crest, and she didn’t know any house that had a goat for a crest. A unicorn, sure, they were mythological. But something you’d put on the dinner table? Wait. Did the head just wink at her?
Gilda held it closer to herself but didn’t see the head blink. She really was going crazy. Not wanting to waste any more time she broke the seal with a flick of a talon and pulled out a folded square of paper. She unfolded it to find a brief message, scrawled in the same writing that was on the envelope.
Kill them.
So it was some hatchling’s dumb idea of a prank. She was ready to throw it away when the writing suddenly writhed and moved on the paper, like a worm dropped in a bowl of water. It grew and moved even faster, and Gilda dropped it to the ground and jumped back, a claw at the ready to shred it to pieces. The ink leaped from the page and formed a puddle on the ground that grew larger and began to take on the silhouette of a griffon on the floor. Suddenly it stopped and shifted, becoming three-dimensional and solid, forming a solid black griffon. The black soon changed, white feathers with purple tips sprouting from the chest and head and the hindquarters turning brown. What had once been ink was a perfect replication of Gilda.
“What, what are you?”
The doppelganger smirked, the same smirk that Gilda had used before and shot forward in a blur, the talons ripping the throat from the lieutenant and sending her to the ground in a heap, her blood forming a sizable puddle on the floor. The faux-Gilda stood and watched her handiwork before picking up both the letter and envelope and throwing them into the fire. She turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.
Soon Verbannt was filled with the screams of the dying drowned out by the roaring of the lightning, and a chilling, mocking laughter riding on the wind.
The ball bounced across the floor, and Twilight was after it in a flash. She lunged forward, moving her two forelegs at the same time, chasing after the red rubber sphere as it hit the wall of the main room, near Granny Smith’s rocking chair. She scrambled backward with her hooves a bit to stop herself from colliding with the wall, making a scratching noise on the old wooden floor. She turned sideways and slid, leaning down and grabbing the ball with her mouth. It tasted bitter and had dust clinging to it, but she resisted the urge to spit it out. She trotted back over to where Winona was standing, putting on a mask of excitement and happiness, swishing her tail like a dog from her world would.
Twilight opened her mouth and dropped the ball at Winona’s paws while panting, sticking her pink tongue from her mouth. Playing a simple game of fetch had taken a toll on her, and it showed just how much she was out of shape. Twilight wasn’t fat by any means and never had been, but a sedentary lifestyle of sitting and reading books, combined with more pastries and sweets than was healthy, had taken its toll. There was a slight pudge to her frame, specifically near the flanks. She had no idea how Pinkie Pie managed to stay so skinny despite eating so much candy all the time. Maybe it was because she bounced everywhere. Twilight wasn’t sure.
Winona stooped down and rubbed a paw through Twilight’s mane, scratching behind the ears. “Aww, are ya tired? Maybe we should stop for a while.”
Twilight was glad to hear that. She plodded to her designated waterbowl and nearly shoved her face into the earthenware sides, swallowing huge gulps of water and splashing some on her muzzle. The mare pulled her head up and walked to a corner of the kitchen, curling into a ball and closing her eyes. She was exhausted, and not just physically, but mentally, as well. During her game of fetch she had gone over her next course of action. It was torturous to come up with a plan of action without a neatly organized checklist, but she had to make due.
The first course of action would be to leave the Dog-Apple family house. That would be relatively simple. She’d wait until nightfall when they were all asleep and slip out. With the aid of her magic it shouldn’t cause her too much trouble.
Secondly she needed to learn more about her situation. That meant Twilight needed to go to the city she had seen earlier. If she could find a library then she’d read up on all the history of this world – she was assuming at this point she was in another dimension – as she possibly could. Anything she could find about the apparently extinct ponies, geography and current world powers. Another important subject would be the magic of this world. Twilight had no idea how she had come to be here, but it may have been due to some phenomena that only occurred in her current dimensional location.
Third would be to establish a home base of sorts, where she could shelter and live without any interruptions. Twilight could gather necessary materials like quills and parchment and bring any book she thought would help her current situation. Taking a book from a library without officially checking it out didn’t sit well with her, but it needed to be done.
Fourth would be to find Nokto and apologize to him. Twilight cringed at her actions. The mare knew that she didn’t handle stress well, but what she had done was completely unlike her. Hopefully Nokto would accept, and maybe she could help him make a new staff, if that was his primary conduit for magic. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like if she lost her horn.
Her fifth and final goal was to find a way home. Right now she needed more information on how to do that, as she didn’t have any ideas.
A sudden unpleasant thought intruded into her mind. What if she didn’t find a way home? Maybe her being here was just some random cosmic accident, and there wasn’t any specific reason as to why. For all she knew dimensional travel could only be possible at specific times or instances, and that time had already passed.
If she couldn’t get home, what would she do, then? If by some chance Nokto forgave her and the current government of the land welcomed her Twilight could possibly become a teacher. Her methods of magic may be completely different than what was currently known, but that wouldn’t stop her from learning what the locals knew. Applejack had healed her broken nose with no pain, while an Equestrian couldn’t heal anything besides a cut if they weren’t a professional.
If the Diamond Dogs didn’t welcome her then she could flee and hopefully find another country that would. Or she could just live in a cave in the middle of nowhere, wasting away her years and slowly going insane due to the isolation. Yep. That could happen too.
Twilight’s ears turned toward the sound of a door opening and the voices that came with it. Dog-Applejack was yammering away to what she assumed was Dog-Mac, who, like his pony counterpart, remained silent, letting his sister act as the conversationalist.
“Ah’m tellin’ ya, Mac, she likes ya. Just go ask her out.”
“Nope.”
“Why not? Is there somethin’ ya don’t like about her?”
“Too quiet and shy. Wouldn’t work.”
“Too quiet! Mac, yer the quietest dog Ah know, and yer nearly as shy as she is.”
“That’s my point. We’re both too quiet and shy.”
Twilight opened her eyes and lifted her head as the two came into the kitchen, Applejack still urging Mac to go on a date with somebody while Mac looked like he wanted to be elsewhere. His eyes settled on Twilight with a look that said ‘Hey, a distraction.’ He quickly closed the distance and bent his massive frame down to pet her, running his paw down her mane and the fur of her back. Though she didn’t like being treated like a pet, Twilight had to admit that heads rubs felt nicer than they had a right to.
“Can we keep her, Mac?” asked Winona, widening her eyes and sticking her lower lip out. A classic move.
“Ah can’t say right now. She might have an owner lookin’ for her. Besides, you already have Applebloom,” he reminded his younger sister.
“That’s right,” Applejack said. “And you wouldn’t want to ignore her, would you?”
“But she ain’t as fun! She doesn’t play fetch no more, and she sleeps and eats all the time.” Winona ran over and wrapped her arms around Twilight in a hug. “See? She likes me. We spent all day playing fetch.”
Mac stood up and ran a paw through his red fur. “If we don’t find her owner in a week or two, then Ah’ll let you keep her. But only if we don’t find her owner. If we do we can’t keep her.”
Winona jumped up and hugged her brother around his waist. “Thank you, Mac!”
Applejack gave a stern look at her brother. “Yer too soft on her.”
“Am not.”
“Are too. And don’t think Ah forgot about you and Fluttershy. Ah’ll make you two go on a date even if Ah have to force ya.”
Mac’s ears drooped. “But Ah don’t wanna.”
“Well yer gonna. And that’s that.”
A shrill, female voice cut into the conversation. “What’s all this racket ‘bout Mac going on some date?”
In hobbled the elderly Diamond Dog that was this world’s version of Granny Smith. Her eyes were squinted and she was hunched over with age. Wrinkles deeper than canyons ran along her face. Her movements were slow and jerky. Twilight could practically hear the joints creaking like trees in a windstorm. Applebloom padded in beside her.
A giant, warm smile came to her face. “Has Mac finally found a bitch? I’ve been waiting year for this to happen.” A twinkle came to her eye. “Part of me was convinced Mac wasn’t into bitches. Guess I was wrong.”
Winona and Applejack laughed while Mac, despite his size, looked like he shrank into the floorboards in embarrassment. Twilight would’ve laughed, too, if she could. The Applejack from her world was always trying to find Big Mac a date, with little success.
“Eeyup. Mac here is gonna go on a date with that pretty little bitch Fluttershy.”
Twilight’s ears perked up at the mention of Fluttershy. So there was a dog version of the pegasus here, too. Were all her friends here, or just some? Twilight considered the possibility of what a dog version of her would be like. In fact, if there was one she would no doubt be involved in magical studies or working at a library. If she could find a version of herself, then the two could possibly work out a way get the mare home. And what if there were dog versions of Princess Celestia and Luna?
“Speaking of Fluttershy,” Applejack said, “Maybe she could figure out what our little friend here is.” She gestured towards Twilight with a paw. Granny Smith laid eyes on Twilight, observing the mare. She came closer and scrutinized the mare with a gaze filled with years of wisdom and knowledge. Twilight shifted uncomfortably. In her world Granny Smith was close to senility but knew more about obscure subjects of history than even she did. It was possible she knew about ponies.
“That’s one funny looking cat.”
Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. Luckily senility had won out.
Winona laughed. “That ain’t a cat, Granny. We don’t know what it is, actually, but Mac’s gonna let me keep her!”
Mac sighed. “Remember what Ah said, Winona. If we can’t find her owner then ya can keep her. But only if we can’t find the owner.” He turned to Granny. “And Ah’ve got some bad news about Nokto.”
“What do ya mean bad news?”
“He was involved in some magic accident and was sent to the hospital. We think he’ll be fine, but his house was completely destroyed. There ain’t a thing left but piles of charred wood.”
Twilight felt an icy arrow of guilt shoot itself into her chest. She couldn’t believe that she had acted so irrationally back then, especially after Nokto had saved her life. Sure, she was prone to bouts of emotions during stressful situations, but to break an obviously magical object? That was asking for a tragic conclusion. Princess Celestia had even taught her to be careful around enchanted objects, to proceed with the utmost caution. If an enchanted object was destroyed then whatever spells placed on it would suddenly come unbound and could mutate and change into something different. Poor Clover the Clever had been disintegrated trying to disenchant an old Unicornian artifact.
The Apple family continued chattering about a myriad of things, ranging from Nokto’s health to what Mac would wear on his forced date. Eventually the sun started to sink to the other side of the horizon and it was time for dinner. Granny Smith and Applejack stayed in the kitchen and cooked, surprisingly, apple related dishes with some type of meat that Twilight figured to be pig. The smell of it made her nauseous. Applebloom curled up next to the mare while the family ate. Twilight was given some mushed apple while Granny and Applejack discussed what other food she could eat.
After dinner Twilight played fetch with Winona some more and tried to get Applebloom to play as well, but with limited results. The cat pawed at the ball before losing interest and falling asleep by the fireplace that Mac had lit earlier. The oversized dog pulled out a block of wood and a knife and began whittling, sending the wood shavings into the orange of the fire. Applejack watched her younger sister play with Twilight while Granny rocked back and forth in her chair, two knitting needles clicking and clacking as she made something. A few hours passed. The room darkened as the sun set and stars came out, dazzling against a deep black sky. Winona started yawning and the family decided to turn in, taking turns in the bathroom showering and brushing teeth. Winona wore a set of absolutely adorable footie pajamas with baby ducks against light blue cotton. Granny and Applejack both had on plain white nightgowns while Mac just wore a pair of shorts, looking even more intimidating now that the muscles of his chest were bare for the world to see.
Winona had decided that Twilight would sleep with her. The pup’s room was cozy and relatively empty. A bed, a desk and a chair, and a large chest next to a closet were the only things there. Twilight had clambered up onto the orange sheets and snuggled under them with Winona, waiting for night to fall.
***
Well, this complicated matters.
Twilight was warm, very warm. She was under the blankets of Winona’s bed and the pup had managed to wrap herself around the mare after only a few minutes of sleep. Both forearms and both legs held Twilight in a vice-like grip, like she was a life-sized teddy bear. The tiny dog had burrowed her face into Twilight’s mane and was drooling, the spittle causing the mare’s mane to stick together in a wet clump. It would have been a heartwarming sight had it been someone else.
With great care the lavender unicorn started to wiggle, attempting to worm her way from the dog’s grip. She scooted down in the minutest of increments, slipping Winona’s arms over her head. Nearly ten minutes passed before she had extricated herself.
Twilight walked softly on the bed and gently lowered herself to the floor, hesitant to make even the slightest of noises. Her hooves would make a loud sound on the floor, which presented a quandary. It was possible to cast a spell silenced her movements, but she didn’t want to take a chance that the light from her horn would wake Winona.
Ever the resourceful mare, Twilight had managed to turn around without making a peep and had stuck her head under the wooden frame holding the mattress. She cast the spell easily but the light from her own horn blinded her momentarily. Subjecting yourself to a bright light after being in a dark room was a bad idea.
Twilight trotted across the room, happy that she wasn’t making a single noise anymore. Winona’s door wasn’t fully closed which made the going easier. She stuck her head out and looked back and forth in the dark hallway, no sign that any of the Dog-Apples were up. Twilight made her way down the hallway and the flight of stairs leading to a space between the main room and the kitchen.
Seeing no one in the inky shadows Twilight hurriedly made for the front door. She paused just in front and probed it with her magic. A simple cylinder lock was all that kept it closed, and a quick application of magic unlocked the door, the old-fashioned lock clicking as it did so. Soon Twilight was on the other side, closing and relocking the door.
Outside it was cool, the lack of sun having chilled the night air to a pleasant temperature, if you had fur, that is. Above the world the silvery moon sent slivers of pale light to the ground. Not a sound was heard, and Twilight found it eerie. In the distance was a dark blot, the city she had seen earlier. In some places a few miniscule dots of light were sprinkled on the blackness of the shadowy city; guard towers, Twilight thought, just like the ones in Canterlot. She assumed they were, anyway.
She walked off the porch and into the night, looking back at the house and feeling a bit guilty at how sad Winona would be when she woke up and found Twilight gone. The lavender unicorn had only known her for a day, and while she didn’t enjoy playing fetch, the pup had grown on her.
Twilight stuck to the shadows cast by the apple trees, fearful to be spotted by some wayward dog. She knew the direction of the city, so it would only be a matter of finding a road or path that lead to it. As she walked her nostrils were filled with the earthy scent of loam and the sweet smell of plant life. Twilight wouldn’t admit it, but she was a tad spooked by how quiet her own hoofsteps were. No animal life could be detected. Around five minutes or so passed before she broke from the grove of trees and came to be in a wide, flat field, over a mile long. More trees lay on the other side, and behind that was the city.
What concerned her the most was what appeared to be a group of dogs far in the middle of the field, where a grouping of trees had sprouted from the forest proper and formed a twisted line that led to the site. A perimeter had been set up, by the look of things. Around a dozen tents had been raised in a circle around a tall, sinister looking bonfire. Dogs marched back and forth around the tents. Twilight realized the area they had set up camp was where Nokto’s house used to be. Not only would the moonlight and lack of cover leave her exposed, but now there was a higher chance of being spotted by, what she assumed to be, guards of some sort. She would need to traverse the field in a wide arc if she didn’t want to be spotted.
With great care Twilight bent her knees and lowered herself to the ground. She began an awkward walk-crawl-waddle that considerably slowed her progress. Dew had already accumulated on the grass and was wetting her belly. The ground was a bit chilly and she felt a shiver run up her spine. Goosebumps popped up under her fur. She continued like this for nearly an hour, taking a short break to soothe the cramps in her muscles from her mode of locomotion. Finally, after another hour, she made it to the tree line.
Giving a sigh of relief Twilight slithered under the cover of a leafy bush and lay on her side, stretching her legs as far as they would go. She haphazardly pulled herself from the bush, removing some leaves and a twig from her disheveled mane. Here, under the thick canopy of the forest, where nary a space to see the sky existed, it was much darker and, Twilight admitted to herself, a great deal scarier. She doubted there would be any predators ready to snack on a tasty pony, but she was reminded of the fact she was in a different world. Due to some change in evolution squirrels may have grown thrice their normal size and began predators, hunting in packs. Anything could be possible here.
Again she began her journey. Hoots from owls on the hunt for rodents spooked her and she considered lighting the way with her horn but dismissed the idea. She didn’t want to call any unnecessary attention to herself, and what better way to do that then give someone a bright, pink light to follow.
Foliage on the ground thinned out and became scarce, making the going easier, though there still wasn’t a peek of moonlight to be seen, blotted by the long, wide branches of ancient oak and poplar. It was quite a fragrant patch of woodland, and Twilight leaned down and sniffed at the ground; she was walking in a patch of wildflowers, judging by the sweet scent. Though she normally wouldn’t have done so she tentatively stuck her tongue out and licked at the shadow-shrouded flowers, finding one and taking a bite. It was slightly bitter and rougher than what she would have liked, but it was a tasty food source. She’d have to remember they were here.
Soon she came upon a light in the distance, a silver, almost pitiful thing a few hundred feet away, indicating a break in the trees. She quickened her pace but kept a sharp eye out for any unwanted observers. Ahead of her was a wide, well-built road, paved with flat stones. A ditch was dug on both sides to drain water. Twilight looked both ways, not seeing any sign of late-night travelers or patrolling guards. Turning her eyes skyward the silhouette of the cityscape was clearer than before, no longer a smudge on the horizon. She could see the geometric shapes of buildings and the looming height of a tower, a flame burning bright at the very top. The mare squinted a bit but couldn’t see any movement, though she was confident in her assessment that it was a watchtower of some sort.
She looked out again, seeing the road to her left curving towards the city. With great care the pony began to walk along the edge of the trees parallel to the road, always sticking to the shadows, never letting herself be seen. A pleasant breeze ruffled the leaves above, tree branches shaking and shivering. Time passed and the border of the city finally came into view. The road had led to a side entrance entrenched in a solid stone wall, about fifteen feet high. Two tired guards flanked the gate on both sides, the double doors wide open.
Getting past the guards would be a problem. Twilight couldn’t just waltz through the gate, and climbing would increase the chance of being spotted. She needed a distraction, something to bring their attention away from the gate. An auditory spell and some projectiles should do the trick, she said to herself.
Twilight laid flat on the ground behind a tree to hide the glow of her horn. She was using the same spell that she had used to calm the Ursa Minor, but with a few simple changes. Telekinetically the mare picked up some fallen pine cones around her, keeping them at the ready.
A child’s laughter echoed across the road, both guards starting at the sudden sound. They looked at each other, then into the city for the source of the sound, before turning to the road, scanning the dark of the woods. Again they heard the laughter, this time coming to their left, and one barked out a “Who’s there?” leveling his spear in the direction of the phantom giggles. The laughter cropped up again from their right, and both guards looked completely terrified. At that moment Twilight sent a pine cone hurtling at Rainbow Dash speeds into the face of one guard, who dropped his spear and clutched his face. Two more pine cones followed along with even louder laughter, apparently coming from deep within the confines of the pine and oak. Both grabbed their spears, despite their obvious fear, and trudged into the undergrowth, searching for the attacker.
That was what Twilight needed. She bolted along the ditch at the gate, running harder than she ever had before. The distance was closed quickly, and the lavender unicorn crossed the threshold of the border and into the city, turning immediately and ducking into a narrow gap between two buildings to her immediate right, panting hard. A smug grin turned up on her face.
She was in.
It took three bucks before the boards covering the window broke with a surprisingly soft crack, sending clouds of dust into the air. Twilight winced and flattened herself against the side of the abandoned house, hidden in shadows cast by moonlight. Some time she waited, breathing as quietly as possible and swiveling her ears around, searching for signs that she had been discovered. When no angry or curious voices were heard she crept like a cat through the window, grabbing the sill with her hooves and hoisting herself up and over, landing with a thud on the floor and sending up another cloud of dust so thick it burned her nostrils. The mare shook her head and glared at the offending motes, charging up a wind spell and clearing the air around her.
Twilight had wandered the streets, hunting for any place she could use as a shelter, before stumbling upon what she assumed to be a bad part of town, filled with derelict buildings and trash. There were a few trashcans, though they were used as fire pits by homeless dogs, and Twilight felt a bit bad for them. Her parents had always warned her to never go into places like this because, according to them, she’d be mugged, raped, and sold drugs, in that order. It really made no sense. How could she be sold drugs if some mugger had taken her money? Still, the mare didn’t like being here, even if it offered safe refuge.
Inside the old house everything was dark, so Twilight cast an illumination spell, an orb of light floating from her horn to hover near the top of the ceiling, banishing the shadows and sending a few dozen cockroaches scurrying into nooks and crannies in the walls. She jumped back and stifled a squeal.
“Ugh, this place is filthy.”
Twilight meandered across the room and into the next, flinging illumination spells into the doorway before entering. She shuddered as roaches and mice fled under the magical light, seeking refuge in hidey holes. While the mare wasn’t as repulsed by dirt and filth as her friend Rarity she liked to have everything clean and neat, organized in such a manner that everything could be found quickly, a habit developed after years of studying and researching. One always needed to have reference books handy.
She explored the first floor and found nothing of interest, just more dust and creepy crawlies. There were five rooms total, one of which had been a kitchen at some point, judging from the cast-iron stove with a family of rats living in it. Another housed an ancient toilet, and Twilight wasn’t about to lift the lid and see if it was working. In the main room – for Twilight assumed that’s what it was – a staircase lead up and curved to the right. She didn’t know if it would be safe to go upstairs. This house was obviously old and the floor could be rotten, and it would be bad to add injuries on to her long list of problems. Still, she needed to explore the entirety of the house.
Slowly she placed a hoof on the first step and put weight on it before withdrawing the appendage at the harsh creaking sound that emanated from the old wood. It was reminiscent of a child screaming while being chased by a monster.
She slapped herself. “Bad Twilight,” she said. “No thinking about monsters eating ponies in dark places.”
Again she tried, skipping the first step entirely and trying the second one, relieved to find that it gave just a hint of a squeak. Gingerly she made her way up, poking her head around the twisted staircase and sending a magelight up to light her path. She crossed the last few stairs and arrived in a wide room, bare of everything except for a single moth eaten couch taking up residence in a corner. Here the windows were also boarded up, and Twilight admitted she was thankful for that. Surely someone would find it suspicious for there to be a mysterious purple light coming from an abandoned house. To her right were an open closet and a closed door, likely leading to a bedroom. Left of her were two doorways, lacking doors. Each contained small rooms, mirror images of the other. Raggedy and thin carpet covered the floor in each, having been a preposterous grey color at some point in time. One particular thing caught Twilight’s attention, however. In the furthermost room from the staircase there was a doll, alone and without an owner. Twilight picked it up with her magic and studied it. About a foot tall it was carved from wood covered with a type of golden fabric and had very intricate moveable joints. It wore a pretty red dress with frills on the bottom and sleeves.
What confused Twilight about the doll, though, was how well preserved it was. The faux-fur hadn’t fallen out or been worn away, and no stains marred the dress. In fact the doll looked like it had just been bought from a store that very same day and dropped here.
In a flash Twilight turned and scanned the dusty floor, looking for any hint that somebody had been here before her. Besides her own hoofprints the dust caking the floor was undisturbed. Still, Twilight called out a tentative ‘Hello,’ half expecting and half dreading an answer. All was silent except for Twilight’s low breathing.
She went back to inspecting the doll, turning it over and over with telekinesis. It was puzzling to consider how well-preserved the doll was. An idea came to the mare’s mind and she performed a spell made to look for enchantments. Watery blue lines of magic lit up over the doll’s body like spider webs, indicating some form of spell, most likely a strong preservation spell, the kind cast on old books or documents to stop corrosion by sun, air, and hooves. Obviously the spell had been added by the maker or the owner.
For a moment Twilight felt a twinge of sadness. Some poor little girl had probably dropped the doll when she was forced to leave this house for some reason, and here it had laid, all alone, with no companion or friend to hold her and brush her. Twilight wrapped it in her forelegs and hugged it, nuzzling the soft, red material of the dress. It was a bit nostalgic and reminded Twilight of Smarty Pants, her constant foalhood companion. They played together, read books and did homework, and whenever Twilight was nervous or sad a hug from Smarty would make everything better.
Twilight released the doll and smiled, one of the first genuine smiles since her arrival in this strange dimension. “What should I name you?” she asked.
A short pondering later and Twilight had dubbed the doll Rosemary. She placed her in a sitting position on her back, similar to how Spike would ride her.
“Come along, Rosemary. Let’s explore the final room and clean this place. Celestia knows it could use a good dusting.”
Twilight trotted from the tiny room and into the main room, humming a happy tune. She didn’t notice, however, how Rosemary’s eyes seemed to glow green for a brief second, and a smile curled on her lips.
***
The final room was probably a master bedroom once, but now it yielded nothing except empty space and filth. Since Twilight was already present she decided to start cleaning in this room. With a bit of telekinesis a film of shimmering purple magic crawled up each wall. Carefully she curved the top of the film and pressed it firmly to the wood. With a noise like a squeegee on a window the film was dragged down, taking dust along with it, leaving a pile running along the border of the room. It was a useful way to clean large areas at one time, though Twilight had rare need for it; nothing of hers ever became so filthy. She finished off by collecting the dirt and dust on the floor in the same manner and holding it above her head, briefly wondering how to dispose of it before inching open one of the boards shielding the windows and throwing it out.
From there Twilight systematically cleaned each room, taking down cobwebs and clearing out mice and rat nests. During her years as a librarian Twilight had learned a myriad of anti-pest spells, designed to keep insects and rodents from entering the library and damaging the books, and she spent a few minutes casting those on each corner of the house, grinning a bit as she heard the scritch-scratching of critters in the walls fleeing due to the influence of the spells.
“Let’s see here,” the mare spoke to herself. “I’ve found a base of operations and rid it of any unwanted occupants. What next?”
She closed her eyes and visualized an imaginary checklist, and what a checklist it was. Made from perfectly smooth and tan parchment with no fraying on the edges. On the left were numbers running the length of the parchment, spaced exactly one inch apart and lined up perfectly with square boxes to their right, a few of which already had checks in them. Her goals were written in curly, neat writing, detailing exactly what she should do next. Of course it paled in comparison to the real thing, but without any proper materials it would have to do.
“Place protection spells on every window and door,” she spoke aloud.
With that Twilight covered each window, door, and conceivable opening with a shield, similar to the one her brother made, though designed to be invisible until something came in contact with it. By this point the mare was feeling exhaustion creeping on. An entire day pretending to be an animal, combined with a lack of sleep and constant magic use had taken its toll. Bags had formed under her bloodshot eyes and she yawned nearly every minute or so. It was taking quite a bit of willpower to force herself to stay awake.
Once those spells were finished it was time for her next task. She would need to explore the city and gather supplies, like food, books, parchment and quills, that sort of thing, but it wasn’t wise to gallivant about an unknown city. What she needed would be a teleportation anchor.
A teleportation anchor was a spell cast on a specific space by a unicorn so that, if they ever teleported, they would end up in the same place, and one would serve Twilight well. If there was ever any trouble or she was forced to find safety, she would just need to start a teleport and the anchor would do the rest. It wasn’t risk free, though. An anchor was like a rubber band with one end attached to Twilight and the other attached to a location in space. If she was too far from the space and tried to teleport, the connection would harshly pull her back, potentially resulting in injury. The connection could also snap, leading to a number of unwanted consequences, such as the anchor detonating like a space-time bomb and incinerating everything within several hundred yards. That wasn’t good at all.
Still, it was imperative for Twilight to do so. A few steadying breaths later and she braced herself, concentrating on a spot in the middle of the main room upstairs. It started off like a normal teleport, bending space around her and the place she wished to be, but instead of simply flowing from one place to another she kept bending and twisting space, and the mare swore she heard the universe groan. Creating a teleportation anchor was basically raping space-time, and, like most ponies, the universe didn’t like to be raped and resisted. Twilight’s vision blurred and beads of perspiration dripped from her brow and formed a trail down to the tip of her nose. Her legs wobbled and she swore she smelled something similar to burning metal.
And within an instant it was over. Twilight crumpled to the floor with a thump and Rosemary followed, landing on her back with wooden limbs splayed out in an awkward fashion. The mare panted and tried to maintain consciousness. Her vision of the room blackened around the edges and a sharp, throbbing pain radiated at the very base of her horn. For what seemed like hours she laid there, any attempt at movement sending waves of agony through her head, like a tidal wave of swords crashing against the beach of her brain. She whimpered a pitiful, saddening whimper that one would expect from a foal that had lost a parent or a parent that had lost a foal. Finally darkness engulfed her, and she fell into the bliss of sleep.
Chrysalis had spent most of the day searching Senpaga for any sign of a mysterious magical item, presence, or being. She had disguised herself in a diverse number of ways, from young pups and old ladies to rubbish bins and bushes. The changeling had investigated some of the seedier parts of town. A bit of enquiring at what was obviously a shop selling illegal black magic books and artifacts had led to a rather interesting tidbit of information. According to the proprietor of the shop, a grizzled old dog missing his left eye, some strange folk had been spotted coming and going from one of the poverty stricken sections of the city. They were described as dogs wearing thick, dark cloaks with hoods covering the faces, so as to make the breed indistinguishable, though most were around medium size.
It was around midnight and Chrysalis was in that poverty stricken section of the city, sitting on a rooftop, her legs curled underneath her. A laughably simple illusion spell kept her shielded from unwanted eyes, with the exception of a tabby coated cat that was currently sitting to her right, grooming itself. Cats were one of the few creatures that were rarely affected by illusions, for whatever reason.
Right now the changeling had her eyes closed and was focusing magic into her horn, not to cast a spell, but to try and divine any strange and out-of-place magic in the area. Nearly every creature had some form of inherent magic sense, and Chrysalis had always been more adept than others. It came with being a creature that fed off of the energy released by emotions. Even before she had become a changeling it had been her special talent.
Presently she felt sadness and sorrow radiating from the tiny conclaves of homeless dogs that occupied alleys and streets, a chilling and humbling feeling. A few had given up any hope. Something felt off, though. Intertwined with the despair of their situations was a heavy, almost inordinate amount of fear. One would expect this from a prisoner on the chopping block, not the homeless. Chrysalis presumed it had something to do with those cloaked dogs that had been spotted, but she couldn’t be sure.
Oh, what was this? A tiny dot of apprehension and curiosity was flitting among the wall of negative emotions. And what was more was the amount of ambient magic it was putting off! Dogs didn’t put off anywhere near that much magic unless they were casting a powerful spell, and judging by the way it didn’t appear to have any shape or form it was just flowing from whatever was down there.
Chrysalis opened her eyes and cut off the sensory spell, standing up and turning in the direction she had felt the anomalous magic. Everything below her was dark and drenched in shadows so thick it bordered on the impenetrable. It was impossible to actually see anything, but once again changeling anatomy helped remedy the problem. A changeling’s eyes were more sensitive to light and had better night vision, and with a quick application of magic the pupils in her eyes grew until there was no longer any green but a solid black. Chrysalis observed the streets for any sign of movement. A moment passed before she heard a crack, the noise of something being broken, and followed it.
She jumped from the roof and fluttered her wings, buzzing in the sky like a night-dark bee against a tattered black quilt. She gazed below at the labyrinth of streets and side-streets below, crisscrossing in neat, geometric and sensible patterns at one point but twisting and bending like a snake fleeing from an eagle at another. Part of her wondered what exactly had happened to make this neighborhood become so poor in comparison to other areas. It couldn’t exactly be called a slum. Most houses present looked to be able to hold a small family, and very few seemed like apartments that the disadvantaged would live in. Maybe some form of economic woe that struck hard and fast, like a bank going under. Whatever happened here was none of her concern.
From her vantage point the entire city was lit up like jack-o-lanterns on Hallow’s Eve. Increased night vision turned a candlestick on the edge of a window into a roaring bonfire. Miniscule dogs could be seen moving in some places; guards and drunkards and lovers taking a stroll. All bipedal. All except one.
Prowling at the border of a two story house was a quadruped of some sort, low to the ground and appearing wary of any that might be spying. It certainly was interesting to the changeling. During her jaunt as Shale she had seen nothing but dogs, and none that walked on four legs. Chrysalis couldn’t quite make out what it was as it scrambled into a window. Perhaps a griffon, but to her the shape wasn’t leonine enough, nor were there any signs of wings. Other possibilities would be a zebra, or maybe a donkey. That fit the bill nicely, but to be sure a closer look would be needed.
She landed lightly on the roof, her perforated hooves barely making the slightest of sounds, hardly audible to any unless they stood by her side. Flat, cracked shingles littered the roof of the abode, making for dangerous footholds. At any moment one or all could come tumbling off due to the changeling’s extra weight. Luckily she managed to find the bare wood underneath that made up the skeleton of the roof and stuck her hooves to them. Changeling hooves were spider-like in their make-up, covered in millions of microscopic, sticky hair, perfect for climbing on any and all surfaces. Just one more advantage of being an emotion sucking, parasitic entity.
Now Chrysalis would need a way to see inside, or at the very least gauge what the silhouette potentially was. A bit of pondering and she decided on an X-ray spell. Once cast she was given a good, three dimensional look at the inside of the building. What she saw made her knees buckle and her heart beat faster.
On the first floor, wandering around with a methodical trepidation was an equine, but not a donkey or a zebra. No, she had a clear view of the skeletal structure and what separated it from those two was the horn jutting out from the skull, about four inches in length.
“A unicorn.” The changeling’s voice was low and choked.
That was impossible. There weren’t any left. They had all died thousands of years ago. Chrysalis had been there.
***
The little unicorn filly shivered in terror, shielded from the frigid wind by her mother’s body. Her mother had wrapped her in the thickest cloak possible and covered her hooves with leather. Chrysalis pressed up to her mother’s right side, near the wall of the mountain, away from the edge that dropped down into the darkness below. Hundreds of unicorns trekked down the mountain path, away from the fortress-city that had been their home for eons. All wore clothing suited to the cold and desolation of the environment. Wagons laden with goods from personal effects to what little food could be found were hitched to strong stallions. Skilled mages scattered among the ranks cast constant heat and shielding spells to no effect. The Eternal Winter had seemingly broken their magic, and their spirits.
Supposedly everything was going to change. The citizens of Unicornia were fleeing south from all the ice and darkness to better lands where they would be free. Chrysalis wouldn’t have to go hungry ever again. She glanced up at her mother through the thin slit between her hood and the cloth covering her mouth, pushing a strand of her unruly green mane out of the way; it was more like a spider web than anything else. The mare noticed this and turned to smile, her auburn mane dusted with tiny particles of ice.
“Don’t worry, Chrysalis. We’ll be out of this storm soon.”
Her mother, the kindest mare in the entire world, was named Autumn Dusk, for the time of year she was born in. She was a constant, a solid rock, always there to reassure her daughter, just like now. Chrysalis, however, wasn’t so sure of those words. They were strained and hollow, more to console the mother than the filly. Dread and despair radiated from her mother. Chrysalis could feel it. It was her special talent, after all.
From the time she was born Chrysalis had always been able to read ponies. She picked up on subtle cues early, and soon could actively tell who was feeling an emotion in excess. The scholars from the Mage Tower had told her she was an empath, a rare breed of unicorn that had a sixth sense for emotion. It made her popular for a bit during school when all the fillies and colts would ask about whether or not a certain pony liked them, but as time wore on she became more of an outcast. It wasn’t really possible to lie to the filly, and her ability to simply know how you were feeling became more of a burden. Any anger directed her way made the poor thing break down in tears.
Her talent had even started to become painful. Too much anger or hate caused physical distress, aches in her horn and so on, and to say that there was much anger in Unicornia and the other pony tribes was an understatement. After Princess Platinum had returned from her meeting with the other three tribes the amount of malevolence dripping from their ruler sent Chrysalis into a spiral of pain that lasted for two days. Luckily morale had been up after their ruler gave a speech about finding a new land, and she had pulled through. Now it was a different story. A dull, throbbing pain was ever-present at the very tip of her horn, though she was thankful it hadn’t gotten worse. Still, she wasn’t holding out much hope.
A sharp cry from the back of the caravan startled the filly, and soon more voices were speaking up or shouting. Unicorns pointed skyward, and the various mages charged up their horns or hefted weapons. Chrysalis turned her eyes up and squinted against the white that made up the world before gasping at the sight of pegasi flying a few hundred feet above. Hundreds moved in v formations, pulling chariots or swaths of clouds. A rare sunbeam burst from the clouds and glinted off their armor.
Chrysalis snuggled even closer to her mother. For her entire life she had been told stories of the evil, war-like pegasi that lived high up in the clouds, abducting precious unicorn foals during the night and eating them. While she didn’t believe the part about them eating foals, she was still frightened.
More and more passed overhead until the sky was so thick with them it blotted out what little sun shambled out from behind the clouds. It was the equivalent of a new moon without any stars. The voices of the unicorns rose to a fever pitch, shouting obscenities to the fliers and promises of retribution for some slight or another. Of course the prideful pegasi lobbed insults back, a few of the braver ones flying low and sneering at the unicorns, only to be rounded up by the elders of the warrior race.
Soon the pegasi were gone, just tiny dots on the horizon. Autumn Dusk placed a hoof on her daughter’s back, an act meant to calm the filly. It worked, if only for a bit. She stood on her tippy-hooves and nuzzled her mother, the constant solid rock of her life.
In three days, however, her mother would be dead.
***
It had been quick, so quick Chrysalis had barely had time to notice the shock and fear on her mother’s face before the rock gave way beneath her and she was sent tumbling down into the valley below. Her mother hadn’t even screamed.
Since then Chrysalis had lost all will to go on. For the past several days she had been carried on the back of some other unicorn mare. A mare that wasn’t her mother. She hadn’t eaten anything, despite the pleading of her caretaker to try some of the stale, rock-consistency bread they called food. She was hungry, but she didn’t want to eat. A void had taken over where her heart had once been. The storm had ceased during the migration and now the land had become green. Grass could be seen once more along with trees. Not the tall, dark, gangly pines that survived in the ice up north, but leafy, cheerful trees. Yet to Chrysalis the world had never felt colder.
Cries of happiness and joy soon gave way to more hate. The short-lived ecstasy of a new land had been decimated by the realization that both the pegasi and the earth ponies had wandered into the same stretch of fertile and staked their own claims, conflicting with one another. Word had spread that war would soon be upon them. The unicorns had braved a mountain and made camp halfway up, raising walls of hastily cut stone with their magic. Pegasi once more began construction of a cloud fortress. Earth ponies had retreated into the unknown wilderness and formed guerilla strike forces. Animosity once more permeated the air like a miasma, and the pain in Chrysalis’s horn had only gotten worse.
She didn’t care for any of that. She just wanted her mother.
Chrysalis was hunkered down in an out-of-the-way corner, a broken gaze focused on the ground of the impromptu fortress. Tall, thick walls had been built around the mouth of a rather impressive cave. It was around one hundred feet high with mighty stalactites gripping the top like bats. Surprisingly it was rather dry. Torches were stuck to the walls, casting a flickering light in the farther-back passages. Foals ran round in circles, chasing one another and playing games. A few had tried to involve Chrysalis, only to receive a blank stare in return.
From what she could gather from snippets of adult conversation the skies had once more darkened and the temperature was dropping, almost like the winter was sapient, intent on devouring them.
A sudden furor and cries of fear managed to break Chrysalis from her depression, and for a moment she raised her weary head, her filthy bangs obscuring her view. Guards had gathered spears and were pointing them at the sky. A pegasus landed within the fortress walls, lacking any form of armor. It was obviously a mare, judging by her short snout and curvy body. Her mane was a light red, bordering on pink and her coat was a buttercup yellow. Her cutiemark was a bright red pansy. A tall wooden pole bearing a white flag had been tied to her midsection with a strap of leather. She was soon surrounded by armed unicorns, pointing both weapons and horns at the intruder.
Chrysalis watched with mild curiosity as the pegasus spoke. They were too far away for her to make out the words, but from the reactions of the unicorn guards it seemed she had said something shocking, though a few seemed less hostile to her.
A few hours later pegasi began filling the cave chamber, taking up residence away from the unicorns on the other side. A few of the important-looking pegasi, specifically a rainbow-haired one wearing a set of cold, grey steel were in a heated talk with some unicorn nobles, including the esteemed Princess Platinum in her regal purple dress. Finally they came to some accord, and another hour or two passed and earth ponies, clothed in raggedy cloaks and pulling wagons trudged into the cave, casting fearful and suspicious glares at the unicorns and pegasi. During all this Chrysalis felt the pain in her horn increase to a constant, sharp stabbing, making her wince with every heartbeat. The cavern was rife with hatred and had grown even colder despite the fires and the massive stone wall that had blocked off the main entrance.
Chrysalis didn’t know how much time passed before she felt hungry. Not the kind where her stomach rumbled, but something else, deep down in her soul. Emptiness, total and complete, a dark chasm like the one her mother had fallen in. She wanted her mother. She wanted love.
She wanted love.
She wanted love.
She wanted love!
Her horn glowed with a green light and she felt with the magic her teachers taught her. Her sixth sense expanded and covered the entirety of the massive cave, probing and searching for any flicker of love she could find. It was scarce, very scarce, almost unnoticeable, but it was there, hidden deep down beneath the veneer of hatred for the other pony races and fear for themselves. Chrysalis reached out with pure instinct and desire, gripping any fragment of love possible and pulling. Ponies shrieked as their loved was forcefully pulled away, collapsing on the ground in sobbing heaps as nothing but negative emotions was left. Chrysalis became vaguely aware of ghostly, chilling neighs and giant white equines flying around the cavern. Her awareness started to fade as the love wrapped around her, a warm, comforting hug, just like her mother’s. Soon everything went black.
***
Outside the cavern the windigos had fled, their food source extinct. Their eternal winter had ended. Snow was melting and animals emerged from dens and burrows, confused at the sudden blizzard but relieved it had passed. Up on the side of a mountain there stood a massive stone wall, a ramshackle fort. There was a sudden crack and a flash of green light and part of the wall was vaporized, a cloud of smoke choking the air. Out from the smoke stepped a figure, an equine, taller than a filly but not quite a mare.
Chrysalis eyed her new body with some disdain and a bit of delight. Her fur had hardened into a carapace, thick and black, and her legs and hooves were riddled with holes, though they caused her no pain. Her mane was the same green color, only it had taken on the qualities of a strand of spider silk. Two iridescent butterfly wings, a completely new addition, buzzed feebly and unfamiliarly on her back. She lifted a hoof and poked at the twisted and tortured thing that had once been a properly straight unicorn horn.
She wasn’t a pony any longer, that much she knew. Chrysalis had wrapped herself in the stolen love, like a caterpillar transforming inside her namesake. She wasn’t a beautiful butterfly, not really, but she was no longer a pony, either. All of that love had changed her.
She had changed.
Change.
Change… ling.
Yes. A changeling. That was what she was. A changeling.
***
Chrysalis pulled herself from the tide of tumultuous memories and shook her head. A cold weight, one equal parts guilt and shame had settled in her stomach. Even after all those years ago she forced herself to not think of her birth, and of her actions that doomed an entire species. Even now she regretted her actions that had resulted in the destruction of an entire species. But that had changed, as all things inevitably do. A unicorn was apparently alive and well, snooping about the city.
After many centuries of life and learning the art of disguise and infiltration Chrysalis had learned a number of marvelous and useful tricks to gather love and information. One of her favorites was creating a golem made of her own exoskeleton. Information would be streamed from the golem to Chrysalis, although the range was rather short. With a grimace and a bit of magic a rather wide chunk of the changeling’s chitin was ripped off with a wet crack. She examined it for a moment before molding the already malleable material into various forms, discarding one after another before settling on a fetching Diamond Dog doll, complete with a faux preservation spell to throw off any trace of magic one might find on it.
Chrysalis scampered on the side of the building and inspected one of the boarded up windows, discovering a small enough gap to squeeze the doll through and set it down on the floor. She then flew away and landed on an adjacent building, settling down against a chimney. Chrysalis closed her eyes and activated the far sight spell, her senses shifting to what the golem could see and hear.
After a time Chrysalis heard the sound of hooves on wood and watched with baited breath as an honest-to-gods unicorn carefully walked into the room, her giant purple eyes flitting about. She was absolutely beautiful. Her coat was colored a pleasing shade of lavender and her mane was black with two streaks of purple and pink set in the middle. A purple horn about four inches long jutted from her forehead. On her flank was a cutiemark of a starburst with five other stars orbiting around.
The unicorn spotted the doll and stopped, turning her head for any sign of an intruder. Seeing none she picked the doll up with a bit of magic and scanned it, finding nothing but an apparent enchantment to keep it preserved. That seemed to stop the unicorn’s worrying. She hugged the doll, and then paused for a moment before naming it Rosemary.
“Come along, Rosemary,” the unicorn said, setting the golem on her back and trotting from the room. For the next hour the lavender unicorn cleaned the rundown house and chatted to the doll about her life in a place called Ponyville. Chrysalis nearly snorted at the ridiculous name.
Finally the house was cleaned to the unicorn’s standards. She then went about, casting ward and shield spells; incredibly strong, but simple. The unicorn walked to the second floor and stood in the middle room, breathing slowly and widening her stance. Her horn glowed with a bright, blinding light and the space in front of her began to shimmer. Chrysalis wasn’t completely positive but she thought the unicorn was crafting a teleportation anchor. It was a very difficult spell to pull off and judging by the way the unicorn was wobbling she wasn’t sure the unicorn could do it. Suddenly Chrysalis felt the space before the unicorn coalesce and warp. In a flash the spell was completed and the unicorn collapsed, completely drained.
Chrysalis counted to one hundred before she decided it was safe enough to move the golem. The magical doll stood and teetered on two legs before regaining its balance and prodding the unicorn on the flank with a paw. It leaned down and pressed itself against the unicorn’s side, relieved to find that it was still breathing. Chrysalis was lucky that it had just been magical exhaustion and not magic backlash that caused the poor thing to pass out.
Outside the warded residence the changeling stood and severed the connection with the golem. She buzzed over and landed on the roof, gently prodding the magical defenses for any sign of a weak spot. The shields were expertly crafted, designed to absorb impact from physical forces and prevent magical attacks; Chrysalis was also certain that there was a spell designed to send both astral and arcane missiles back to the original caster. Tricky.
Fortunately the unicorn was comatose and wouldn’t be able to respond if the shields were destroyed. Bracing herself the lone changeling created a sphere about the size of a baseball from her green magic. Inside she began heating the air particles rapidly until they became white-hot. She strained and forced the sphere to become smaller and smaller, soon reducing it to the size of a marble. Chrysalis aimed and released all the pent-up energy at the roof, a crack resounding through the night like thunder and a plume of powdered debris filling the air. Under the wood the shields buckled under the force and shattered like glass, dissipating into nothingness. Swiftly she dropped down and seized the unicorn and the golem with telekinesis. A quick flash of light leapt from her horn and impacted the unicorn’s, sealing off any potential magic.
With a hasty teleportation spell both were gone, no sign of them having been there besides a giant hole in the ceiling.
***
Twilight was getting sick and tired of waking up in strange beds with terrible headaches, and this was the second time it had occurred in a twenty-four hour period. She groaned and rubbed her temples with her hooves in circles before opening her eyes.
She lay on a soft, white blanket, though it did a poor job of cushioning the obviously wooden pallet she was lying on. Her head and horn throbbed and her mouth tasted like copper. She smacked her lips. They were dry and cracked.
“Water?” a voice asked from behind the mare.
Twilight weakly sat up and turned to the voice, coming face-to-face with none other than Queen Chrysalis, holding a glass of water with her magic. Twilight shrieked and flailed her limbs, falling off the bed and onto the stone floor below. Quickly she stood and tried firing off a barrage of concussive magic blasts only to find that not a single spark came from her horn. All the while Chrysalis stood with a rather unimpressed look on her face.
“What did you do with my magic?”
The changeling shrugged. “I sealed it, just in case you wouldn’t cooperate. And don’t bother trying to attack me. It won’t work.”
Completely ignoring the changeling’s words Twilight ran and jumped into the air with a mighty battle cry, extending one of her hind legs out in a karate pose she had seen Rainbow Dash use once. She only made it a few feet before crashing into a magical barrier. She slid down the side like a bird that had hit a window.
“That was rather pitiful.”
Twilight rubbed the attacking leg and glared at Chrysalis. While the changeling had expected hostility and anger she was sensing enough hatred to feed a windigo for a month. It was surprising, and Chrysalis wondered if it was because of what she had done to the ponies all those years ago.
“So are you going to stop or not?” she asked the unicorn.
“Never!”
Chrysalis sighed and watched as the unicorn ran around the out-of-the-way supply closet of Senpaga castle they were currently in, kicking and bucking at the force field and the walls, screaming for help at the top of her lungs.
“Screaming won’t help either. I’ve soundproofed this room, so nobody can hear you but me. I’d appreciate it if you would be silent.”
The mare gave a smoldering look. “So was all that stuff with Nokto and the Diamond Dogs a dream, then? Did you kidnap me for revenge and force me into a coma, filling my mind with weird, crazy dreams?”
Chrysalis blinked in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What revenge?”
“Don’t play dumb with me! Revenge for when my brother banished you and your changelings from Canterlot!”
“Okay, I think you may have confused me with someone else. I’ve never been to a place called Canterlot, nor have I met any brother of yours. In fact you’re the first pony I’ve seen in several thousand years. I thought they all went extinct.”
Now it was Twilight’s turn to look confused. “Wait. Did you just say that you thought ponies were extinct?”
“Yep,” Chrysalis said with a nod. “I was there. All the ponies were frozen by the windigos.”
Twilight sat in thought for a moment. “Are we currently located in a nation primarily made up of Diamond Dogs?”
“Yes. I think it’s the Second Diamond Dog Empire. Or maybe the third. I have a hard time keeping track of the years while imprisoned in a cave.”
Wrapping her head with her forelegs Twilight curled up on the ground and made a sound crossed between a growl and a sob. “Great. Just great. I end up in another dimension and encounter one of my sworn enemies what, two days in? Why does the universe seem to hate me so much? I’ve always been good. I always turned in my homework on time, always tried to be a good pony. But no! The world just can’t cut me any slack! First Nightmare Moon, then Discord, then the changelings, then the alternate world, then more changelings!”
Twilight continued with her ramblings while Chrysalis stared. Was this pony crazy? Because she honestly seemed to be.
“So, uh,” Chrysalis said, trying to break the unicorn’s increasingly erratic tirade, “Do you want the water or not?”
Twilight lifted her head and gave a slow nod. “Might as well.”
Chrysalis phased the glass through the barrier and set it before the mare. Twilight placed both hooves on either side and picked it up, knocking back the water in long gulps. She placed it back on the floor and sighed.
“So this is the part where you suck out my emotions, right?”
At that Chrysalis smiled. “So forward. I don’t even know your name and you’re already propositioning me?”
Twilight blushed and sputtered indignantly. “What? No, I didn’t mean that! You’re a changeling! You feed on emotions. That’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it?”
“As tempting as it may be I want some questions answered and my master will wish to see you as well,” Chrysalis said, sounding a bit annoyed at the last part.
“Who’s this master of yours?” Twilight asked.
“Emperor Dorgath Forge, ruler of the empire, Chrysalis said. “And the one that keeps me imprisoned and my powers shackled with this collar,” she added, motioning to the steel circlet around her neck, the runes glowing slightly.
“You’re kept as a slave?”
Chrysalis gave a sad nod. “Terrible, isn’t it? As long as a member of the Forge family lives I’m bound to serve them, something I’ve been doing for the past thousand years or so. And all I did was kidnap some out-of-the-way villagers and drain them until they were lifeless husks, then use the husks to make an army of changelings and take over the continent. Life really isn’t fair, is it?”
Twilight didn’t know how to respond to that so she kept her mouth shut.
“So anyway,” Chrysalis asked, “ What was that about another world you mentioned during your rambling?”
“You might find this hard to believe but I’m from an alternate dimension where ponies didn’t go extinct. We’ve built an entire civilization where we cooperate and live in peace and harmony. Unlike here Diamond Dogs don’t have any civilization and are incredibly unintelligent, and I’m fairly certain they’re going extinct. Also an alternate universe version of you impersonated my brother’s fiancée, locked her away in some cave, turned all of my friends against me, locked me in a cave, injured my mentor and ruler of my country, and then got your flank hoofed to you by my brother and his real fiancée.”
Chrysalis chuckled. “Yeah, that does sound like something I would do. Though I’m confused as to how I became a changeling in your timeline.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Became a changeling? Weren’t you born one?”
“No, I wasn’t, but that’s not important right now. I’ve completely forgotten to ask you your name.”
“Oh. I’m Twilight Sparkle, personal student to Princess Celestia and wielder of the Element of Magic.”
“Hello, Twilight. I’m Chrysalis, the once Queen of the changelings, and general scourge to everything peaceful.” She lay down on the floor and crossed her forelegs, laying her head on them. “If you would be so kind as to tell me the circumstances of your arrival, I’d be most pleased.”
So Twilight told her story, starting with her brother’s wedding and the party, then waking up in Nokto’s bed, recounting the events all the way up to now as best she could remember. Chrysalis interrupted a few times with questions on certain events and aspects of the story but stayed silent throughout most. Chrysalis felt that the mare had the habit of being unstable, judging from her reaction at the wedding and at Nokto’s home, but at least she had the dignity to feel guilty for injuring the dog.
Once she was finished Chrysalis told the mare of all she about the supposed phenomenon that had brought her to Senpaga, as well as her orders to bring the mare to Dorgath.
“As much as I’d like to deny that infuriating dog, I’m physically unable to. I was given an order to bring you to him within a three day time period and, when that time is almost up, the collar will activate and I’ll have no choice.”
Twilight swallowed. “What do you think he’ll do to me?”
“I have no idea. He might have just imprisoned you until he thought you could be trusted, but due to your actions with Nokto I can’t say anything for certain.”
Twilight was silent for a minute, mulling over the consequences of her actions. She was in a tight spot with no way out. No plan, no magic, and no friends.
“Chrysalis? Can I ask you a favor?” Twilight’s voice was low and morose.
“What is it?”
“Can I see Nokto? I want to know that he’s all right. I feel awful for hurting him.”
Chrysalis scratched her chin in thought. “I suppose I could, but he’s being guarded and it’ll be difficult to sneak past with two of us.” She paused and smiled down at the mare, a bit disconcerting considering her fangs were long and sharp. “I think I have an idea.”
***
Something was up, and Lapis was going to find out what.
Her daddy had been grumpier than usual. There were more guards patrolling the palace, looking nervous. And she had heard that some poor Diamond Dog had been injured and was under heavy surveillance. He was the key, Lapis knew, of this whole thing.
Years of observing the behavior of her father, the guards, and the servants had given the little blue dragon an uncanny ability to manipulate others, and Lapis had come up with a brilliant plan to get into the hospital room and see the dog.
It was the middle of the night, so most assumed that she was asleep. She tiptoed to her door and pressed an ear fin to the side, listening for any chattering voices or footsteps. Hearing none she slowly pushed the door open, wide reptilian eyes scanning the hallway. It was quite dark despite the torches and the moonlight streaming in from the windows. Lapis wiggled out from the cracked door and closed it behind her before scurrying down the hallway, a paper card clutched in a claw.
Lapis snuck through the hallways, her back pressed flat to the wall. A few close calls were had but she remained unseen. Finally she glanced around a corner and spied one of the medical rooms, two guards standing resolutely in front. Lapis took a deep breath and put on her most ‘I’m absolutely adorable’ face.
Immediately she was spotted by one of the guards. “Princess Lapis,” he asked, “What are you doing up this late? You know you should be in bed.”
“Well, earlier I heard that some poor dog had been hurt, so I made a Get Well card,” she said, holding up the folded paper with a colorful ‘Get Well’ written on the front in crayon. “But I wasn’t able to give it to him, and I couldn’t sleep knowing that I haven’t given it to him.”
“I apologize, Princess, but we’ve received orders not to let anyone besides designated medical personnel or a high-ranking member of government into the room. I’m afraid you’ll have to ask for permission from someone else, but I’m sure you’ll be able to give it to him tomorrow.” The guard smiled at her. “Now I think it’s best if you turn around and go back to bed.”
Oh. The guard was good. But that wouldn’t stop Lapis. She possessed one formidable weapon that had never failed her before.
Lapis averted her eyes and started sniffling, scuffing the floor with a clawed foot. A whimper rose from her throat.
“But, but what if he wakes up before I can give it to him, and, and he thinks that nobody cares about him because he doesn’t have a Get Well card?” Lapis turned her gaze up to the guards, her eyes incredibly wide and filled with tears. The guards glanced nervously at each other. Making the emperor’s daughter cry put you on the fast track to dead.
“Um, all right, you can give him the card, just please don’t cry, okay?” one guard said, trying to placate the dragoness.
“Okay!” Lapis said, turning a complete one-eighty and putting on a cheerful grin. She skipped into the room as the guards opened the door, humming a made-up tune. Inside Lapis saw one of the biggest dogs ever, second only to her daddy. He was covered with bandages and lay on a bed encircled by a whole bunch of those glowy rune thingies. His coat was a deep black and Lapis wasn’t sure what breed he was, though she thought he was a Shepherd. Carefully the dragoness placed the card on a bedside table containing a lamp and a clipboard.
Ah. Just what she was looking for. Clipboards always had official and important papers on them. Checking to make sure the guards weren’t watching her she picked up the clipboard and fanned through the papers. Hmm. His name was Nokto and he was one of those eggheads at the college. Injured due to some magical accident that destroyed his house. Aww. Where was he going to stay now?
Lapis continued reading, skipping the boring medical stuff and the big words she didn’t understand. A sudden shout from outside broke the turquoise dragon from her concentration.
“Who are you? Identify yourself!”
Another shout echoed from outside, then a scream. Lapis saw one of the guards drop, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his chest. The second had locked swords with a figure swaddled in a black cloak, hiding its face. The cloaked figure twisted the giant blade it wielded and pressed through, the smaller sword the guard held shattering like a chicken bone. A spray of crimson erupted from the dog as he collapsed.
Lapis didn’t know what to do, so she did the only logical thing and crawled under the hospital bed, covering her eyes and waiting for her daddy to come. She heard heavy footsteps enter the room and winced with every one, whimpering in terror. The steps got closer and closer with each passing moment until they finally stopped. Lapis counted to ten under her breath and opened her eyes…
…to find the cloaked figure on his knees, staring directly at her. It thrust an arm underneath and tried to grab her, just catching the hem of her sleeping dress. Lapis shrieked and instinctively exhaled a gout of bright blue fire. The figure cursed and pulled back a burned paw. Lapis shot from under the bed and ran to the other side of the room, the figure quickly following. She watched as it stalked towards her, sword in paw, two eyes staring down at her with a sick hatred. It approached within a few feet of her and raised the sword. Lapis curled into a ball and sobbed, expecting the worst.
It never came.
A pair of black, bandaged arms wrapped around the neck of her would-be murderer and lifted it off the ground with a quick, powerful movement. A sickening crack followed and the cloaked figure went limp. The arms dropped the corpse to the floor with a thud.
Lapis slowly looked up at her savior, the giant, rather confused Shepherd named Nokto. He squatted down and smiled at her.
“Hey. You don’t have to worry anymore. He’s not going to hurt you. You’re Princess Lapis, right?”
Lapis didn’t bother with an answer. She ran forward with her arms outstretched and jumped into Nokto’s chest, burying her head into his soft fur. The tiny dragon sobbed and whimpered as he hugged her, stroking her spines. Nokto stood, grimacing a bit at the sudden use of his muscles after being hospitalized for a day. He observed the scene; the room and the now inactive rune circle, the two dead guards near the door and the mysterious cloaked figure. He had no idea what was going on, and he didn’t think the dragon was in the best shape to be asked questions. Something hadn’t felt right when he killed – what he thought – was a Diamond Dog.
Kneeling he lifted the hood of the figure and gasped at the face. It wasn’t a dog, but something that looked much like one. Pointed ears, a sharp, long muzzle, and rough, scraggly fur. He was looking at a coyote.
Truth be told, Nokto had no idea what that signified. Diamond Dogs and coyotes were of a similar species, but coyotes were savages in comparison. They lived in the southern wastes, past the borders of the Imperium, traveling in small, nomadic bands and raiding settlements or caravans. Coyotes weren’t very smart, either. Even those that had been raised by Diamond Dogs in the past never showed any intelligence beyond that of an eight year old. They simply were unable to comprehend higher thought.
“What the hell happened here?”
Nokto swiftly turned to find two nurses, both bitches. One was a Retriever and had startling green eyes while the other was a mutt of some kind and had lavender fur. The latter stared wide-eyed at the guards before bending over and vomiting.
“Both of you need to find some guards, now! I have no idea what’s going on but it’s bad.” He gestured to the quivering dragon in his arms. “I need one of you to take her some place safe.”
A sudden explosion rocked the castle and sent all three dogs tumbling down. Windows in the hallway shattered as a shockwave of some kind ripped through. Flashes of light could be seen outside and Nokto sensed the presence of powerful magic. His eyes widened in surprise as the strangely colored bitch hit her head on the floor and was suddenly surrounded in green flames, transforming into a unicorn.
“You!” Nokto shouted at the pony, who realized her disguise was dropped and gave him a sheepish grin. “You’re the one who broke my staff and nearly killed me!”
The other nurse was wreathed in green flames as well and transformed into some kind of quadruped bug thing. “Yes, she destroyed your house and nearly killed you, but right now I think we’ve got some bigger problems to worry about!”
There was another explosion, stronger than the last. Nokto braced himself against a wall while the two equines were sent tumbling down once more. The black one scrambled up and grabbed the second with telekinesis. “We have to get out of here! Now!”
Not willing to argue Nokto turned and ran, Chrysalis following hot on his heels, carrying Twilight in her magic. Nokto had been in the castle before and knew the basic layout. At the end of one hallway he opened a door and nearly flew down a flight of stairs. At the very bottom he spied a group of cloaked coyotes locked in combat with guards, and the guards were losing badly. They were heavily outnumbered and outclassed, the greatswords the coyotes carrying cutting through armor like a knife through butter. One guard used a combat spell of some kind only to have it fizzle out as soon as it touched the hem of a cloak.
“Put me down and give me back my magic!” the purple unicorn shouted, flailing her legs in the air. Chrysalis dropped her roughly to the floor and simultaneously unsealed the mare’s magic. Twilight quickly stood began throwing everything she had at the collection of cloaked coyotes, loud bangs echoing in the air as enemies were knocked back by the sheer force of her magic.
More coyotes flooded in, overwhelming the guards and turning their attention to the dog, two ponies, and one terrified baby dragon. They let loose battle cries and charged, swords at the ready.
“Oh screw this!” Chrysalis shouted. In a split-second she grabbed her new allies and teleported, leaving a hundred confused coyotes looking for enemies.
***
Senpaga was in chaos. Less than an hour had passed and already the cloaked forces had rampaged through the city, killing whatever they saw. Guards had created barricades out of carts and whatever they could find, lining up at the top and firing arrows or whatever spells they knew. A few had gathered jugs of oil or kerosene and lit them on fire before throwing it at the invading force. The mages of the Imperial College had created a monolithic force-field around the campus, like a giant blue shell. The guards had been totally unprepared; the force had apparently come surging from one of the poor areas.
At the very edge of the city there was a flash of green light and Twilight, Chrysalis, Nokto and Lapis appeared behind some trees, well-away from the main road and any potential enemies. They sat there for a moment, breathing heavily. Nokto quietly whispered calming words to Lapis, who was shaking harder than ever. He gave his two new companions a piercing glare.
“What exactly is going on here? First I help you, Twilight, if that is your name, then you break my staff and nearly kill me, then I wake up to find a coyote about to kill Princess Lapis, then you show up with that bug thing, and then the city is besieged by more coyotes.” Nokto’s voice was filled with anger and he was baring his teeth.
“First off,” Chrysalis replied, pausing to catch her breath, “I’m Chrysalis, a changeling, not a bug thing. Secondly I have no idea what’s going on any more than you do.” She stopped for a moment and lifted a hoof to the collar that was wrapped around her neck. It glowed a bright blue for a moment before crumbling to nothing. The changeling’s eyes widened considerably, as did her smile. “And thirdly, if there are no more blood members of the Forge family alive, this little shackle turns to dust. Which means Dorgath’s dead and I’m free!”
“Daddy’s dead?”
The tiny voice that spoke up seemed to be louder than everything else. Three pairs of eyes turned to Lapis, one sympathetic, one disbelieving, and one apathetic. The little dragon was still held in Nokto’s arms, her claws resting on his massive forearm.
Chrysalis nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Such a horrible tragedy. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m leaving. Goodbye!” Once more Chrysalis teleported away, leaving a stricken dragon in her wake. Nokto immediately pulled her into a hug as Lapis let out an anguished cry into his fur, muted by the sound of battle taking place a few hundred feet away.
Tentatively Twilight walked forward, her ears folded back in sadness. She really didn’t know what was going on, only that a child had apparently lost a parent. Still, there were other things to worry about at the moment.
“Um, I was just wondering, what are we going to do now?” the mare asked.
Nokto scowled at the pony. “What do you mean ‘we’? All you’ve done is cause me trouble after I found you. I’d prefer it if you’d leave me alone. Right now I need to get Princess Lapis somewhere safe and I can’t have an insane member of an extinct species following me. Personally I’d prefer it if you’d just go die somewhere.”
Twilight reeled back like she’d been struck. She cowered and faced the ground, tears appearing in her eyes. “I know that I’ve hurt you and that I really screwed up, but I’m sorry. It’s not enough, I know, but right now you need me. At least, I think you do. Have your injuries healed yet?”
Instead of answering Nokto lunged forward and swiped at her with a massive paw, cuffing Twilight on the side of the head and sending her rolling into a tree. She stopped with a loud thump. Pain shot through the right side of her face. Her mouth tasted like crimson and something hard was rolling around on her tongue. Twilight opened her mouth and spit out a tooth and a generous helping of blood.
By the time Twilight lifted her head up Nokto had already stomped off into the woods, leaving her alone once again.
Nokto cut an impressive figure as he walked, bare hind paws smacking against the stone courtyard of the Imperial College. He was tall, easily one of the tallest Diamond Dogs in the city, even dwarfing other members of the Shepherd Breed. His coat was thick and black, nearly as dark as the night sky itself. Wrapped around his form was a bright red robe, trailing down to his knees, the borders lined with a golden inlay, the colors marking him as a member of the graduate class. One massive paw held a long staff of oak, straight until it reached the top, curving around into a knot. Runes and sigils carved into the wood glowed slightly with a white light, giving away the arcane power possessed within them. In his other paw he carried a leather-bound book, the cover bare of any writing or design. The most striking part of him, however, was his eyes, sharp blue things that scanned around as he walked. Nokto radiated class, sophistication and power, the perfect image of a mage.
Then he tripped when one of his toes caught in a crack in the pavement. With a cry of “Shit!” he was sent tumbling forward, releasing his book and staff, the latter clattering against the ground and gaining the attention of all the other students in the courtyard. Nokto landed flat on his stomach, all four limbs splayed out, and his face eating the ground. With a grumble he pulled himself up, his dark coat hiding the raging blush he was sporting. Many of the other students, mostly blue-robed undergrads, were snickering, while the other graduates were openly laughing.
Nokto picked his book and staff up, trying to salvage what dignity he had left. He turned around and glared at the crack that had so foolishly assaulted him. Leveling his left paw towards the crack, the mage channeled power into his body, letting it take form before releasing it. A blue glow leapt from the paw to the crack and, with a slight shuddering of the ground, the crack closed and knit itself, leaving smooth, untarnished cobblestone in place. Satisfied, Nokto turned with a swish of his robes and resumed his dignified walk to the Arcane Arts building.
It was a pleasant walk, despite the embarrassing mishap. The day had been cloudless so far, the sun casting a lovely warmth over the entire college. A constant breeze had been coming down from the mountains for the past few days, and the smell of fragrant wildflowers filled the air, carried by the very same cooling breeze. It was going to be summer soon, and the weather was certainly showing it.
Arcane Arts was visible as soon as one entered the campus; it was the largest building out of all of them, crafted many hundreds of years ago from enormous blocks of basalt into a towering structure. It was mostly square with several small additions that had been added over the years jutting from the sides, their darker colors contrasting with the lighter, sun-bleached stone of the main building, giving away their young age. Row upon row of stained glass windows lined the walls, colorful pictures detailing important events from the Empire’s history or showcasing artistic designs. An incredibly large set of mahogany doors were used as the main entrance, pulled wide open to let in the comfortable air of the day.
Nokto passed through these doors, exchanging friendly greetings with other dogs or giving short bows to professors. A gigantic hall met him, larger than even the Emperor’s throne room. Pillars grew from the floor and shot straight up like great, fossilized trees, joining the vaulted ceiling. The pillars were simple and smooth, polished to a fine sheen. The floor was smooth and very cool, softened from the many thousands of paws that had made their across them for centuries. Chains of griffon forged steel came down from the ceiling like spider webs, their ends attached to lamps large enough to hold ten dogs. Every night they were lit by a simple enchantment, and every morning workers came to replenish the sweet-smelling oil that they burned.
The Shepherd took a right, headed towards a classroom that he was familiar with. It had been one he had sat in during his undergrad years, quill in paw, scribbling down notes while wide, hungry eyes soaked up all the knowledge they could. Today was different, though. Today Nokto Tresbulon wouldn't be sitting and listening, no! Today he would be teaching! Just the thought nearly had him in a fit of giggles. He was the assistant to Professor Sapphire, a short, orange Corgi that was known for his lighthearted demeanor and easygoing teaching style.
When Sapphire had told Nokto that he wouldn't be able to teach due to a royal summons, the Nokto admitted that he had been happier than he should have. He knew it would be his chance to teach, and it was. A dream come true for the scholar. It was an introduction course, sure, but that didn’t matter.
Nokto finally reached the door to the classroom, hardly able to contain his excitement. The dog paused and checked himself over, smoothing down his fur. Wouldn’t want to look like a ragamuffin, now would we? With a dignified air he grabbed the handle with a massive paw, turned it, and entered the room.
Chattering greeted his ears, the thirty some students talking back and forth in low voices, holding conversations about their daily lives or academics. Rows of long, solid yew tables were used as desks, stools tucked underneath. A motley crew of dogs sat at the tables, books open and sheets of parchment lying before them. Most dogs were of the smaller breeds; the larger, stronger breeds didn’t often pursue a career in arcana, while the smaller dogs did. All Diamond Dogs could use magic to a certain extent, and most knew a spell or two, but few ever became full-fledged mages. Most university degrees required a course or two of basic magic classes, whether it is theory or more practical classes, so there were always larger dogs in the introductory courses.
All eyes turned to Nokto, who cleared his throat and set his book on the table and leaned his staff against the wall. He scanned the crowd for a moment before speaking.
“I’m assuming that you heard that Professor Sapphire won’t be teaching today, due to business at the palace, so I’ll be teaching today,” Nokto spoke, opening the book and flipping through the pages. “We’re on chapter fourteen, correct?”
A murmur of yesses left the group of students. Nodding, the temporary instructor turned to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of the powdery stone. With a flourish of his paw he began to write.
***
The lesson lasted an hour and a half, the standard time for most classes. Nokto paced across the length of the chalkboard, eraser in paw, wiping off the notes and diagrams he had written. Students were standing up and leaving, giving polite goodbyes to their friends and temporary teacher. Nokto acknowledged them with a simple nod, too busy going over the lesson in his mind. He was a tad paranoid about whether or not he had done a good job. His thoughts analyzed every detail, from the notes on energy manipulation to whether or not his writing had been legible enough. He was sure that he hadn’t forgotten anything, but brilliant minds have a tendency to fray under the tiniest amount of stress.
Especially if it mean't disappointing a teacher.
Nokto gathered up his book and staff, turning to face the empty classroom. Well, mostly empty. One student was left, an incredibly attractive Golden Retriever bitch, her blue robe tight against her figure. She was leaning against one of the tables, her green eyes half-lidded, giving Nokto a classic seductive stare. The dog recognized her. She was named Embressa; an average student when it came to work ethic and grades.
“Um, may I help you?” Nokto asked.
At first she didn’t say anything, sauntering up to him and sashaying her wide hips, Nokto’s eyes briefly glancing down to take in the view before he caught himself. Embressa must have noticed. Her smile grew wider and she stopped just a few paw lengths away from him, head turned up to his face.
“I very much enjoyed your lesson, Graduate Nokto. You’re a wonderful teacher,” the Retriever said.
Nokto could have sworn that he heard a whoosh of displaced air as his ego suddenly expanded and filled the room. His chest swelled and a stupid grin found its way to his mouth, pearly white teeth lighting up the room.
“Thank you, Undergraduate Embressa. I admit that I was worried about my performance, but I see that it was for naught.”
Embressa’s smile grew even wider. “I’m sure that you perform well at everything you do. And I mean everything.” Her voice lowered in pitch, taking on a sultry tone.
“Not everything. My area of expertise is in elemental manipulation, so I find myself quite lacking when it comes to the finer techniques of magic,” Nokto said, completely oblivious to what the bitch was implying.
Embressa’s smile twitched at the corners of her mouth and shrunk by an inch, but that didn’t stop her. “Now I’ve been having some trouble in class, and I was wondering if you could give me some private lessons.” Her voice was smooth and silky.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have time for private lessons. I’m busy with my own classes and research. Besides, there are plenty of resources out there to help. I know other students have started study groups, and I hear that a tutoring service is being set up by the university,” said Nokto, completely oblivious to what Embressa was implying.
The Retriever leaned back like she had been struck, but recovered quickly. She lifted a paw and slowly traced a circle on Nokto’s chest. “That may be, but I want you to teach me. You’re ever so clever and smart, and I understood today’s lesson much easier than when Professor Sapphire teaches.”
Nokto looked away, glad that his dark fur hid the blush rising on his cheeks. It was rare for him to receive such compliments. The dog was modest for the most part, and disliked the politics of the Imperial College, where professors and nobles would spend their time currying favor with the Board or trying to rub muzzles with courtiers. He kept out of such things and wasn’t used to the flattery that others used in everyday conversation.
“I’m flattered, really,” Nokto said. “But it wouldn’t be fair to the other students. I’d have to hold tutoring sessions for them as well, and I wouldn’t be able to find the time. Besides, if I showed favor to you, rumors would start up and dogs would think that we were sleeping together or something, and I know neither of us want that to happen.”
Embressa’s calm demeanor changed in an instant. Eyes narrowed and she took several steps back, a growl coming from deep in her throat. A scowl crossed her face. “Is that so? Fine! I see how it is. Though believe me when I say that you’ll regret turning me down.” Her voice was a near snarl. With a swish of her robes she turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door hard during the exit.
Nokto stood there, dumbfounded. He played back the conversation in his head but couldn’t think of anything that he said that would make Embressa act that way. Shrugging, he packed up his things and headed out the door.
***
“She wanted your dick.”
Granite Rock was a small, cozy pub nestled in the western district of the city, one that Nokto frequented quite often. It was made from cob and had a homey atmosphere. All the patrons knew one another, and everyone was friendly. Smoke drifted through the air like a fog, wafting up from the cigars or pipes of the smoking patrons. Tables and chairs were scattered around the establishment, dogs sitting and chatting with friends or nursing drinks. Some played cards while a few others were engaged in a game of chess, pieces clacking on the board as onlookers watched with some interest. A long bar made from petrified wood served as the counter, nearly as long as the room it was in. A myriad of bottles were stacked on a shelf behind it, filled with wines or the more expensive alcohols. Underneath the bar sat several kegs containing different brews of beer and a few ciders. Small bowls of gemstones lined the counter, all of the salty variety, to encourage customers to buy drinks.
Nokto sat on one of the bar stools, a flagon of beer held in his paw. He had traded his robes for a simple grey tunic and pair of pants. Beside him sat a Weimaraner, his silver coat nearly glowing in the dim light. He swore a set or purple robes with a silver trim, marking him as an illuminator for the college library or the palace.
“I don’t think so, Tor. She really seemed like she wanted me to tutor her.”
Nokto’s friend shook his head with a sigh. “I can’t understand how thick you can be sometimes.” Tor’s western accent was thick when he spoke. “You could be rolling in bitches if you just opened your eyes. And I know for a fact that you’re no stranger to sex.”
“Maybe she was trying to get into my robes, but it would be inappropriate. I’m Sapphire’s assistant, and she’s a student in his class. If Embressa had waited until the end of the semester that would have been perfectly fine,” Nokto said before taking a sip of his beer.
“I’d be careful for a while. Word around the palace is that Embressa comes from the same line as the Dukes of Stonewall, and she has some political pull. You could be fired, and you don’t have very many connections outside of Sapphire.” Tor’s voice was filled with concern.
“My advice would be to find some lonely bitch from a noble line and rut her. Give you some stress relief and gain an ally, even if it’s temporary,” Tor said.
Nokto took a few gulps of the amber colored liquid, emptying the flagon. “I won’t bother with that. Professor Sapphire has been doing some work for the court, so he’s got more influence than you would expect.”
“Oh yeah. I heard about it. Does it have anything to do with those towers that the university set up all over the place?” asked Tor.
Nokto nodded. “They’re ambient magic readers. They record information about the types of magic and the arcane particles floating around in the air. We’ve actually seen an incredibly large increase in the particles that we’ve come to associate with gravity and space, and the increase is only being seen around the city. Other places have their own towers set up, and there are a few just outside the city limits, but they haven’t recorded the same phenomenon. The towers aren’t faulty, so we know whatever is going on, it’s only happening here.”
The Shepard leaned forward and motioned for Tor to do the same. “Keep this a secret, but I think the Emperor is worried about it being some plot by the griffons.”
Tor’s eyes widened and he nearly spit out the ale he was drinking. “You’re not being serious, are you?”
“I’m afraid so. Sapphire is concerned, and there have been whisperings that the griffons have been working on some project involving the magic they learned from the zebra shamans. Zebra magic can be potent when used correctly, and there’s a whole lot we don’t know about it. For all we know, the griffon mages could be casting some form of teleport spell. Next thing you know, this place will be swarming with griffons.”
Nokto’s voice trailed off. He signaled the bartender, an old, grizzled mutt that was cleaning glasses. The dog refilled Nokto’s flagon, the beer sloshing about inside the wooden container.
Tor had a look on his face, eyes closed and mouth scrunched up, the look he always had when he thought about something hard. “I hope that a war doesn’t happen. We’ve had peace with the griffons for over a century, and I don’t know why a war would start now. The Griffon Confederacy doesn’t need any more territory after all they gained in Zebrica, and race relations have been doing fine. There are entire towns filled with griffons on the eastern coast.”
“I don’t know much, but that’s what the Emperor is concerned about. Honestly if a war does occur I’ll sneak out of here with a few books and head north to the Crystal Mountains. Barely anyone lives up there, just a few outposts and the occasional archaeologist looking for any new pony ruins. It would be tough living but I could survive the worst of it. Wait until things cool down then move to some sleepy village somewhere under a new name. Call me a coward, but I’d rather live a nice, comfortable life than die because national leaders are morons.”
“I don’t know what you have to be worried about, Nokto,” Tor said, tapping a claw on the bar. “You’re a mage. You’ll be sitting in a nice, dry tent, waving your staff around and lobbing fireballs while the rest of us have to trudge through mud wearing heavy armor and get impaled on griffon pikes.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. The griffons have gained more knowledge of magic over the past fifty years, and their mages have increased by exponential numbers. Combine that with the ambient magic in their steel and you would have to have mages on the front lines to counteract attacks.
“Anyway, it’s getting kind of late. I should be heading back,” said Nokto, pushing his stool back and standing, stretching his limbs.
“Come on, dog. Tomorrow’s the weekend, and I know you don’t have any plans. Don’t be an old dam. Stay for a few more drinks,” Tor replied in a pleading tone.
Nokto shook his head. “Sorry, but I’ve got some work that I need to catch up on.”
Both dogs exchanged goodbyes and Nokto set some crowns down on the bar to pay for his drinks. The Shepherd turned and strode through the door out into the street.
It was night, and it was very quiet. No noises were heard except for some raucous laughter coming from the Granite Rock . Stars brilliantly twinkled in the night sky above, though they were dulled compared to those seen out in the countryside. Buildings of stone and stone-based materials lined the streets. Some were businesses and shops, though just as many were homes. Diamond Dog homes were normally built aboveground now, though you could still find entire communities dug into mountains. Those were more common in mining communities. Nokto was the only dog visible on the streets, a lone shadow crisscrossing by brick and stone sentinels.
Right now Nokto was in one of the middle class districts, sandwiched between the mansions of the elite and wealthy and the smaller, poorer abodes of the lower class. Senpaga, the capital city of the Second Diamond Dog Empire, had very few impoverished. It was a bastion of wealth and power, situated snuggly in a mountain valley, between the Jewel River and the Everfree Forest. What had once been a fort surrounded by a small farming settlement grew and grew, becoming the seat of House Forge. They crafted a mighty kingdom, fighting and conquering enemies and absorbing other noble houses until they had successfully conquered all Diamond Dog kingdoms, uniting them into a mighty empire.
Senpaga wasn’t the largest city, but it was the most diverse. Every breed of dog known lived here. There were even a few griffons to be found, and one dragon that was being raised under the care of the Emperor. Museums and theatres took up entire districts, detailing histories and artifacts. Education was mandatory until the age of sixteen, unlike other territories where education wasn’t as relied upon, places where practical skills were king. Senpaga wasn’t a grand city. It wasn’t a gem or a jewel. It was most often compared to a piece of tarnished silver, one that had sat around for too long and was desperately in need of polish.
Nokto yawned and continued walking, taking a shortcut through an alleyway. Bits of refuse littered the ground. Old moldy fruit peels had fermented and gave off a rather ripe smell, stinging the Shepard’s sensitive nose. He quickened his pace, but something stopped him. His head whirled around, nose twitching, ears swiveling, trying to find what had given him pause. An itch was in the back of his mind, and Nokto recognized it. The kind of itch that he only got when he was at the university.
It was magic. Either a powerful spell had been cast here recently, or something was about to be cast. Nokto focused power into his paw, energy crackling in arcs of electricity before forming into an iridescent, blue flame. While he didn’t have his staff he could still pull off a simple hellfire spell, one of the more common techniques used in close combat.
In the darkness of the alley, lit only by a ghostly blue light, a purple spark came from the shadows. Then another. And another. Nokto took a few wary steps back, ready for whatever was about to come. A ball of purple energy shook and writhed in front him, before it flashed and something fell to the ground with a thud.
Nokto approached the spot carefully, a dark form lying on the ground. He lifted his paw until the fire light landed on the thing. The Diamond Dog’s eyes widened. It looked like a zebra. It was too big to be a horse, but the coloration didn’t match the zebras. Instead of stripes of black and white, its coat was lavender. An image of a starburst adorned the flank, but the most surprising thing of all was what sat on the head.
A horn. This thing was a unicorn.
Nokto shook his head. That couldn’t be, could it? Unicorns were ponies, and ponies had been extinct for several thousand years. No evidence ever suggested that they had traveled farther than the Everfree, so why was one here?
Lifting a paw, the dog poked the unicorn in the side, eliciting a mumble. It seemed to be passed clear out, and Nokto figured out why when he took a whiff of the air around it. Alcohol, the familiar, pungent scent, coated the pony.
So an extinct, drunk creature had teleported in the middle of an alley. Now what to do with it? Take it to the college and let them do research? Or the palace? Hard to say how the Emperor would react. He couldn’t just leave the poor thing here.
After a moment of deliberating Nokto snuffed out the hellfire spell and gently picked the unicorn up, who shifted slightly but stayed asleep. Cradling her in his massive arms he turned and walked out of the alley.
“Guess I’ll be having a guest for a while.”
Dorgath uncorked the bottle of damson wine, a tiny pop issuing from the neck of the bottle. He poured out the purple liquid into a wooden chalice carved from a somber cherry. The Emperor stared at the wine as it swirled, much like his own turbulent thoughts. He upended the bottle and set it down on the oak table, sinking deeper into the comforting softness of the velvet couch. Across from him on the other couch was that damnable Chrysalis, looking rather smug for some reason or another. It was always hard to tell what was going on in that twisted mind of hers. Dreams and desires of sucking out his brains and feasting upon the flesh of infants, no doubt. He took a long draught of the wine. It was sweet, very sweet, and the heady taste of well-aged alcohol tingled on his tongue and brought him a brief moment of pleasure.
“My my. Someone enjoys their wine. Too bad you’ll never taste pure love. Without a doubt it’s the most exquisite of all delicacies, and can be aged to be stronger, much like drink.” Chrysalis gave a fanged smile. “I could do what I did with your grandfather, and imbue you with some changeling attributes. He quite enjoyed them.”
The mastiff set the chalice down onto the table and glared at the insect. “Those changes of yours made him insane within five years. I’ll not make the same mistake as he did.”
“Come now, you don’t know that. I was able to give him sight beyond a normal dog’s, eyes that let him see the miniscule threads of power and magic that flow through the world. His insanity was a poor coincidence.”
“He died screaming ‘Get this monster out of my head! She’s killing me!’ I highly doubt that was a coincidence.”
The changeling’s mouth morphed into a thin line. “I assure you I had nothing to do with that. Again, it was insanity. The ramblings of a dog whose mind was shattered and broken. I always considered him a friend, even if he kept me imprisoned.”
Dorgath took another drink of the wine and swished it around in his mouth before swallowing. “Enough talk of your past victims. You said you had something interesting to tell me. I assume it has something to do with the phenomenon.”
“Indeed. You see, I observed the footprint of a sizeable magical event, similar to the teleportation spell that I use. Whenever a spell like that is used it leaves residue, time-space stuff, if you will. I found a trail breaking off from the epicenter that confirms something was brought through to your city due to magic and later moved, either by itself or with help, though I think the latter. This trail I followed weaved in and out of alleys to avoid being seen, but did so expertly and took a specific path out of the city, so the guide must be familiar with all the streets and which gates are unguarded.”
“Wait. How do you know that it wasn’t someone familiar with this city that teleported in?”
“Well I don’t know for sure, but I based it off where the trail leads, and the inability for you dogs to craft a useful teleportation spell. You learned about that magical explosion that occurred outside your city, correct?” she asked.
Dorgath nodded. “I did. It was the house of a scholar named Nokto Tresbulon, assistant to a professor here. In fact we’ve taken that professor into custody due to his connection with Nokto, amongst other things.”
“That’s where I followed the trail. In fact he would’ve died if I hadn’t healed some of his injuries first. So we can assume that he either guided whatever came here to his house, or perhaps carried it. Whatever showed up may not be a living creature, but an artifact of some kind. For all we know that could have caused the explosion.”
Dorgath nodded his head. “That makes sense. Hopefully we’ll be able to get some answers when he wakes up.”
The Emperor of all Diamond Dogs sank into the couch and gave a long, shuddering sigh. Today had been one of the worst days he had ever had. Secret plots, unknown magic, potential traitors that he had kept in his service, and having to see that bug again. Sometimes he wished that he had married young and produced an heir to help with the troubles of running a nation. That was something else he needed to worry about. In a few years he would be required to marry in order to carry on the Forge line. His wife would need to be of noble blood, of course, but most were witches that spent all their time trying to win favor for their families in the game of politics. Dorgath didn’t want that, he wanted a bitch that would be a good mother for Lapis.
“You know,” Chrysalis spoke up, “I do have magic that could see into our injured pup’s memories to find out what happened, if only you would let me.” Her voice was dripping with feigned sweetness.
Dorgath glared at her, or at least tried to, but he really didn’t have the energy. Not today. “Our mages can also read minds, though they lack accuracy, and I don’t trust you.”
“Then why did you bother to use my talents today? You consider me to be a monster, yet your family has used my powers constantly for hundreds of years. This collar,” she said, motioning towards the rune speckled iron collar on her neck, “binds me to the service of you and your blood relatives, so I cannot disobey a direct order from any of you. Why not just order me to look through the scholar’s mind, and only look?”
The hulking mastiff didn’t even bother with a reply. He just sat there with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. After a time a light snore came from deep in his throat, his entire body rumbling. Chrysalis snickered a bit and silently moved to his side, poking his nose with a holed hoof. He let out a snort.
“Aw, is the wittle pup tired from his tough day?”
“Wait,” Chrysalis said to herself. “What am I supposed to do now that he’s asleep?”
The changeling thought of her options. Technically he had ordered her to find whatever came into the city, and he had never absolved her of those duties. Chrysalis shrugged and picked up the bottle of wine with her green magic, taking a few long, deep swallows. She smacked her lips and placed the bottle back on the table.
With a flash of green magic she was gone, leaving nary a trace in her wake.
***
Captain Sleipnir stood in the middle of a room situated in the medical wing of the castle, staring down with curiosity and just a hint of malice at the bandaged dog. The patient was of an impressive size; Shepherds rarely got this big, though he was still a bit smaller than the captain, and couldn’t really compare to mastiff’s like Dorgath. His body was covered with stark white bandages, wrapped tightly around his chest. The dog’s breath was slow and raspy. An IV drip ran fluids into his bloodstream. A magic powered monitor to the left of his bed beeped and booped, the flashing lines and numbers indicating his vitals from heart rate to brainwaves. Etched into the floor and surrounding the bed was a circle etched with a myriad of designs and runes, the symbols pulsating gently with a sorrowful blue light. The captain turned to the doctor next to him, a Malamute wearing a white robe trimmed with red and a red cross pinned to the lapel, indicating his status as a healer.
“What exactly is that circle for?”
“Well, the doctor said, “most of his physical wounds have been healed, such as the muscle tears and minor fractures or injuries to small bones, like the paws or nose, but I’m more concerned about his internal leylines.” The doctor glanced at a chart he was holding, then at some numbers on the monitor. “Whatever hit him sent a strong magical surge through his entire body, damaging and disrupting the magic currents. Normally leylines can heal on their own if the damage is small enough, but that isn’t the case with Nokto here. His leylines were almost completely destroyed, which leads to death in most cases.
“Think of leylines like irrigation canals. They exist to guide water, or in this case magic, from a large source, which is located in the stomach. Occasionally that water may overflow the banks and cause some flooding and damage, but it’s usually minimal. In this case the canals were obliterated and all the water flowed outward like a tidal wave, destroying anything it comes in contact with. This circle keeps his magic flowing in the proper way while his body tries to heal itself and re-align his internal leylines. On that note his prognosis seems relatively good, and I doubt he’ll die, since he was brought here in time. The bad news is that his career as a mage will most likely be over. He’s a scholar of magic, correct?”
Sleipnir nodded. “He is.”
The doctor looked saddened. “That’s just too bad. Judging from the damage, his magic will only ever recover to a mere percentage of what it once was, like a canal system drying out. I doubt he’ll be able to cast anything more than a light spell, and that’s being generous. Poor dog.”
“When do you think he’ll wake up, doctor?” Sleipnir asked.
“Within a few days, hopefully. Does he have any family? I’d like to get a letter sent, if possible. His emergency contact list only has a Professor Sapphire listed.”
Sleipnir snorted at the name and scratched his chin. “I think he has a mother in some convent on the other side of the Everfree, but I’ll have to check. I’ve briefly interviewed some of his friends and colleagues, and he never mentioned his family to any of them.”
The doctor stayed for a few minutes, going back over Nokto’s vitals using an ornate, spiraled wand carved from rowan to scan the bedridden dog’s body before scribbling down more notes on his clipboard. Meanwhile Sleipnir was deep in thought, going over the potential problems that this could create for himself and his allies. Nokto was an unknown, an element that could bring everything down around them, or help their plan along. Sleipnir had planned on arresting Sapphire anyway, but this incident forced him to act ahead of schedule.
The real question was what happened to Nokto. Something caused his staff to break and release all the energy encased within, and few things had the strength to do such a thing. Maybe he tried some spell that was far out of his league, or maybe it was some sort of freak accident. Or someone wanted him dead.
That brought up the question: should he kill Nokto? A quick surge of magic would be enough, and it would be expected, given his injuries. However he desperately wanted to know what had happened to the young dog.
Sleipnir turned on his heel and marched from the room, sparing a last glance at the injured dog. He needed to consult the duke. Their plans might need to be sped up just a bit.