Reverie Bound

by MartiantheGray

First published 25th of May, 2015

Dropped unceremoniously into a world of ponies, a man must fight to stay alive in a world that loses more and more of its life with each passing day.

Dive headlong into the mind of a young, displaced man named Ladarion as he is thrown across planes into Ponyland. There will be comedy, there will be tragedy; there will be triumph, there will be loss. But a whole lot more tragedy and loss.
Join our hapless "hero" as he fights to discern reality from fantasy. With talking ponies, murderous woodland creatures, and terrible phone service, Ladarion's grasp on his already fragile sanity slips even further.

Note: To prevent any misconceptions, no this is not a Displaced fic.

A Siesta in the Sun

“Hello? Hello!” With the calls of that oh so wonderful voice disturbing my restful slumber, along with light prods to accompany it, I began to stir.

Oh shit, my head… What the hell happened last night?

“What type o’ critter are you?” the voice queried before I felt another poke on my ribs.

I groaned as I opened my eyes. Then I immediately shut them a moment later as the invasive rays of the sun assaulted my sight. My head spun as I gritted my teeth with a pained growl. The grass was comfortable enough as it was, and for whatever reason the sun was beating down on my prone form incessantly.

Before I could bring my worn mind to question what I was doing outside in a hot meadow, I was interrupted by another annoying prod.

I swatted the object away this time, yawning a small “Gimme five more minutes, damn it.” as I did so, before attempting to nestle myself into the blades of the grass to once again return to my ever elusive siesta. I would have been successful if it weren’t for – For God's sake, another poke!

By this time I was beyond sick of being bothered. My bloodshot eyes snapped open, my vision swimming and tears forming in my eyes from the orgy of vibrant hues that danced merrily in my sight. If I wasn’t agitated before, I was certainly fuming by now.

Wearing my fragile patience on my sleeve as I shook my head and pulled myself to my knees, I opened up my conversation in as calm and collected a manner as I possibly could at the time:

“Listen, if you keep on touchin’ me, you’re gonna catch a hand to the fa-," then I cast my infuriated glare over at the one who was bold enough to wake me. My eyes widened shock as I took in the bizarre sight of a Stetson-wearing, orange, freckled pony that was staring at me wide-eyed, and by that I mean its eyes were huge, with barely contained horror. Yeah, just dwell on that tidbit of information for just a minute.

But the craziness didn’t end there! We were both staring at one another for some time, the pony with fright and I with unbounded perplexity, before she spoke. As in actually spoke. With words! Words that I could understand!!!

“H-howdy, partner?” it more so questioned instead of stated. “Y’all doin’ alright? Ya look as though you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.” Its voice shook within its being as if it had just stepped out of a freezer or something, it was so nervous. It also had a quaint southern drawl when it spoke, and its voice was very feminine in tone. It, or rather she, I guess, had one of those accents you’d expect to hear coming from one of those cute southern belles from a 1950s sitcom or something. I’d’ve probably lost myself in that voice if it weren’t for how horrified I was at what produced it.

I can only imagine that I mirrored her earlier expression of barely contained horror as I froze from the shock brought on by the unexpectedness of this turn of events. I tried opening my mouth to say something, but no words would come out. I was stuck there looking like a deer in headlights.

Then, just as I was reeling my disbelief and utter terror back in, telling myself that this was some deluded dream brought on by some mad god, she spoke again.

“Hello?” she managed with only the slightest hint of trepidation in her voice. “S-should I… go an’ get somepo-“

“AAAAAAAAAUGH!”

She was interrupted by a manly, and not at all girly-sounding, shriek of fright by yours truly. What can I say? I handle pressure with all the grace and poise of a procrastinator who’s only recently found out that a 15-page research paper on the curative effects of men’s body wash was due the very next day of class… and he was informed at midnight of that day.

I fell back on my ass from my previous position on my knees at the combined force of my terrified voice and my flight response for some reason nopeing out at the outlandishness of this situation, crawling backwards away from the pony as fast as I could without breaking my line of sight on her – as though she was some Subject Zero who infected those that got too near with mind-maggots, flesh-eating flies, and the creeping need to listen to Taylor Swift and Miley Cyrus at the same time. So yeah, it was perfectly reasonable of me to want to get the hell out of dodge at that moment.

“H-hold up there! Where’re y’all goin’!?” Stetson Pony cried out as I hastily moved away from her. When she again began approaching me, I eloquently set the stage for how relations between me and the fair folk of this glorious land would fare:

“Oh hell no! Stay away from me, you hear!?” I gaily responded as I sprinted in the opposite direction. She, of course, took my ever so merry tone as an invitation to follow me as I turned tail, prompting me to push even harder to move quicker away from her.

Now, I ran track in high school, the hundred meter to be specific, and I’m not tooting my own broken horn when I say that I’m fast. Not record-breaking fast, but fast enough to have landed third place in my school for time in the hundred meter dash. Despite this, she was hot on my trail for the entire way. I tried to shake her by moving side-to-side as I ran, because I was smart enough to realize that four legs are faster than two, to ensure she wouldn’t grab at my legs or anything to trip me up. It seemed to be working as, while we neared a fence with a thick line of foliage resting behind it, she seemed to slow her stride.

“Wait!” she called from behind, as I neared the fence, and consequently the large forest. I started at her call, largely ignoring the words being said as I vaulted over the waste-high fortification of wood.

I kept on moving along the front end of the greenery until I was certain Stetson Pony was no longer in pursuit. I mean, I know I was scared outta my wits, but I still had enough presence of mind to keep from heading headlong into a forest of all places.

I had never taken wilderness survival and I sure as hell wasn’t no boy scout growing up, so I knew nothing about surviving away from civilization. I only knew that you followed where the moss on rocks pointed to get back to a human-run community, and that you couldn’t eat tree bark unless you were really desperate for indigestion. I had no weapons, no skills, and no food to even want to attempt to put my will to the test.

As I walked further along the brush, my heart pounding all the while from the recent adrenaline-rush, I spotted something. It seemed the rocks with the moss were right! I’d only found one along the way and it had actually directed me toward a place that I could get some kind of help from!

I had fished out my iPhone earlier to check for a signal so I could call someone, presumably the authorities, for aid, but for some odd reason there was none. I could only sigh disappointedly to myself for expecting Verizon to pull through for me this one time before guessing that the tall, somewhat menacing trees had effectively cut me off for now from the rest of the world in terms of communication. Whatever. I was headed towards a city anyway; I would ask the residents for the nearest map, possibly the nearest cab, and I’d be on my way back home before the day’s end. No talking ponies, no vibrant colors, nothing else strange to make my day any more exciting. It was a weekend anyway, dammit! I deserve to relax on weekends, not… wake up in meadows after being dragged out of my own house!

Yeah, I was gonna put all the strangeness behind me and everything would go back to normal. Either when I got back home if this was all real, or when I woke up from whatever disturbing dream this was if I was indeed dreaming.

As I continued down the outskirts of the forest, I approached what appeared to be a… village? Okay, that was weird, I gotta be honest. Of all the things I could have expected, I was not expecting a rural town such as this. Where did I wake up in? Germany? Because that place has a lot of timeless, out-of-the-way hamlets, doesn’t it?

Either way, my journey only got stranger as I spied the occupants of said town. Ponies. Ponies everywhere. Ponies of varying colors of the Roy G. Biv spectrum, even one that actually was Roy G. Biv incarnate, as it flew majestically through the sky, leaving a large rainbow in its wake.

…Wait, what?

Not only were there ponies inhabiting this village, but they had different species as well!? Flying ponies, ponies with boney protrusions sticking out of their foreheads, regular ponies. What the fuck!? What did I do, step out of La La Land and end up right in Uncanny Valley!? The houses looked like houses, if a bit rustic, the grass was grass-colored, and my sanity was near-broken.

I walked in thinking I would get home, but then I see some polychromatic pony with wings push a cloud and manipulate the skies as though the weather were a simple marionette to be toyed with? I walked in expecting to ask a few simple questions about directions, and I’m left with so many more. Too many more. Where am I? What world am I in? Did Ted Cruz muddle his chances at presidency even more than he already has!? QUESTION MARK??? EXCLAMATION POINT!!!

And it was with all of these pleasant, and not at all sanity-crushing, thoughts that I decided I’d be better off taking the forest. Screw that and all that it stands for, I’d take getting lost in some forest over grinding my already fragile mental state into dust any day of the week!

A Poisonous Joke

“All these squares make a circle… all these squares make a circle…”

Um… I would like to provide some sort of explanation for why I was currently curled up in the fetal position and spouting complete nonsense as I rocked back and forth, but I can’t. I can only say it was the fault of waking up barely an hour ago and having nearly every single thing I grew up believing being turned upside down the moment I opened my eyes. I was scared, I was pained… and I felt a latent hatred deep within me for this world for making me feel so helpless, like I was only just born but without any family or friends there to comfort me and ensure I would be able to walk without tripping over myself and scraping my knees.

This world had made me a child again, and I despised it for that.

As I clenched my eyes shut even tighter to prevent any tears from spilling, I could only focus on that one emotion. I’d never felt such a wrongness for being somewhere as I did being here, and I had certainly never felt so strong a repulsion for something as I did this happy-go-lucky world. I was ripped out of my home, away from my family for this!? Hell no! I was gonna get back to the world I knew and understood; I was gonna get back to the world I grew up in, the world in which I belonged! I didn’t care what I had to go through to get there, but with that goal in mind I felt a renewed sense of determination, driven only by the want to get back to someplace familiar.

And as I finally opened my eyes with replenished fervor, shining with hope and intent, I unfurled myself and moved to my knees, pushing myself up to my feet so that I could stand against the world like the man I was!

“I got this. I’mma beat this… this… whatever the hell this is! Be it a dream, reality, I don’t give a shit! I, Ladarion Vincent Coleman, will triumph over all odds!” I shouted. “Ya heard!? So throw whatever ya got for me next, because I’m pretty sure that nothin’ else’ll surprise me after what I just saw! Gimme your best shot!”

And then I heard a deep, rumbling growl emanate from behind me.

In hindsight, it wasn’t really the brightest of ideas I’ve ever had to shout out at the top of my lungs in the middle of the wild.

I slowly, ever so slowly, turned around to face what made that bone-chilling noise, nearly pissing myself at the sight of a positively massive lion as it stared right back at me with a predatory gleam in its terrifying red eyes. The thing stood 3 heads taller than me, had a large, bushy mane, and each of its teeth were, unsettlingly, stained with copper red. On its sides were the wings of a bat and poised above it, ready to strike, was an impossibly long scorpion’s tail.

I found myself moving sluggishly backwards as I took in the terrifying sight, the creature of myth moving forward at just as steady a pace, keeping its eyes glued to mine the entire time. The moment my back hit a tree, I could only stare back petrified at what I knew would be the death of me.

My breathing picked up its pace as the creature’s tail raised, aimed for me, its eyes narrowing dangerously and wings twitching in what seemed to be anticipation as a menacing hiss vibrated from deep within its chest.

The moment it was about to strike, however, I did something stupid: I jumped onto its face. The creature's tail hit the tree faster than I would have imagined possible, tearing off a chunk of the wood with the unthinkable amount of force it put into what would have definitely been a killing blow if I had stood there for just a nanosecond longer.

My arms and legs were wrapped around the muzzle of the beast as it let loose a blood-curdling roar that shook the very earth, nearly deafening me since I was literally right next to it when it emitted such an alarming sound. Clearly I had angered it. If the roar wasn’t enough evidence of that, the following rodeo that both the beast and I had inadvertently become a part of definitely confirmed this.

As the bat-winged freak began to furiously shake its head around in an attempt to dislodge me, I only tightened my grip, effectively shutting the thing up and further infuriating it as it made certain hisses and murderous roars, however muffled, that promised a world of pain and agony the moment it shook its head free of me.

When its blood truly began to boil, the creature, whom I nicknamed Mufasa, started to actually employ its wings to aid in ridding itself of my troublesome presence. Mufasa kicked and howled, much like a bull would in a bullfighting ring, and began tossing itself about into the environment to eject me from its unfortunate face. Trees, earth, hell even boulders were used in vain attempts to remove me. Too bad Mufasa was too stupid to actually throw me into any of these things, so I was simply holding on for dear life as he crashed and fumbled into the surroundings.

I was still scared outta my wits, but I was beginning to enjoy myself just a bit when I saw that Mufasa was banging himself up instead of tearing me apart limb from limb. Before I could think anything else, though, he began charging wildly toward a pit full of glowing flowers. Now, I knew from fairy tales and TV shows that anything that glows is usually dangerous for those that come in direct contact with it, be it due to magical or radioactive properties.

I was in no mood to find out what the hell a bioluminescent flower in a world as unconventional as this would do to me, so I finally loosened my grip on Mufasa’s muzzle, allowing me to see his hate-filled eyes staring back into my own before I dove off of his face. The look in his eyes went from seething rage to unbridled panic as he saw where he was headed. He attempted to stop himself in his tracks, only to slide headfirst into the patch of plants with a rather pathetic yelp. Huh. Guess he forgot he had wings, he was so unawares.

I’ve never come so close to death in my life as I had then, and I gotta say, facing your mortality is quite a sobering experience.

“H-holy shit!” I thought to myself. “I’m alive! I-I’m actually alive. Hot damn, man, is that liberating! When I get back, I’mma have to-“ a feral roar shook me out of my stupor before I could complete that thought.

I shrieked as I continued running through the forest, making sure to avoid any kinds of glowing plants as I put more distance between myself and the roars that, for whatever reason, seemed to be heightening in pitch as I moved further and further away from the source of the sound; I’m fairly sure I was just hearing things, though, as I wasn’t entirely focused on the noise as much as I was focused on putting as much distance as possible from it.

I kept on running until my lungs burned and my legs ached. When I found a tree that seemed to be a suitable resting place, I decided to catch my breath for a few moments. With the adrenaline in my body once again wearing off, I found myself more worn out than ever before. I looked up at the trees to see that some kind of fruit was hanging from the branches. It was… clear in color, but with what looked to be a fiery substance floating around inside of it.

Normally, I wouldn’t even consider touching such a thing, but the growl that sounded from my stomach controlled me at the moment. I wasn’t very experienced in climbing, and my boots only served to make it even more difficult. That is, until I found a branch low enough to the ground to aid in boosting my fat ass up the tree and sturdy enough to carry one hundred and ninety pounds of man.

As I climbed the tree, I heard something that sounded somewhat close to a monkey. Lions roar, dogs bark, but monkeys? What kind of noises do they make? Eh, you can probably imagine the sound they make without me spelling it out for you anyway.

I turned my head in surprise when I saw something else move in the tree. There, hanging upside down, was a four-eyed monkey. I wasn't even going to question that. I’d seen stranger by then. As I turned back towards the one fire-fruit that I could possibly get my hands on without having to fall a deadly distance to get back to the ground, the grey-haired thing followed my line of sight toward the prize.

I sharply turned back toward Four-Eyes, casting an angry glare at him for what I knew would be future trouble. Four-Eyes turned back to me, eyes full of mischief and even a challenge as his lips curled upward into a smirk.

“Oh hell no, don’t you dare,” I warned the suicidal monkey. “Y’see that fruit over there, huh?” I asked as I pointed to the fruit in question. Four-Eyes, obviously intelligent, followed the direction of my finger before once again resting his four freaky eyes on me as I clung to the branch. “That fruit right there is mine, you little shit. You understand me? Mine!”

“Hoo hoo,” challenged Four-Eyes in a slow, mocking tone. He glanced back over to the fruit before pointing to it, then back to himself. “Hoo.”

“You what? C’mon, fool, I’ll tear you apart,” I strained as I pulled myself overtop the branch, still holding on tight for fear of a single gust of wind pushing me off to my demise.

And then Four-Eyes gave me the “bring it on” gesture, the cocky little bugger.

I growled at the annoying primate as I narrowed my eyes. He reciprocated the action.

After a long time of staring at one another, a single leaf fell from the large tree and floated to the ground. I held my breath the entire time in hesitation as it drifted ever so slowly to the dirt. The moment it hit the earth below, Four-Eyes made his move, disappearing into the tree before nimbly dashing from branch to branch, each move bringing him closer and closer to my meal. I let loose a cry of indignation before standing atop my branch and jumping rather sloppily to one directly above me and crawling along to get to the fruit.

The way I was going was much more direct to the fire-fruit, but I would make it in half the time Four-Eyes would at this rate. The jerk was showing off, dancing around the tree like he owned the place. It was with that thought in mind that I moved to my feet and kept a low crouch close to the branch to ensure I maintained my balance. Still crawling closer to the life-saving fruit, I had gotten right underneath it before a dark hand shot out of the branches and snatched it from its resting place, nearly scaring the life out of me in the process.

I would have fallen a good 15 feet if I hadn’t latched on to the tree at the last second. As Four-Eyes turned and attempted to leap away with a victorious screech leaving his monkey mouth, I mustered up from my ire and my hunger the strength to leap up right behind him and grab onto his tail.

“Hah! Gotcha, ya dinner-stealin’ deviant!” I triumphantly hollered when I had him in my hand, before Four-Eyes freaked out and started jumping around and, in a feat of strength I was not expecting, began tossing me about into the air and the tree. This was the second time today I was holding on to a wild animal for my life!

As Four-Eyes dove across the tree into another, I nearly lost my grip; when he grabbed onto another branch, however, I did, finding myself weightless for but a moment before gravity decided that it was the only thing in this world that worked the same as it did in my own. The monkey, for whatever reason, stopped rampaging as it realized I was no longer literally on its tail. I saw an opportunity to grab Four-Eyes around the waist as he hung from one arm, breaking my fall.

Four-Eyes shrieked in surprise and fright as I clung bodily to him, attempting to shake me off before letting go of the fire-fruit and allowing it to fall so he could support the weight of the two of us. I ripped the fiery fruit out of the air with a hand and let out a jubilant cry as I caught it.

“Yes! How ya like them apples ya monkey bastard!” I shot a winning smirk to Four-Eyes, only to receive an intense glare in return.

As Four-Eyes placed a foot upon the one arm holding him and began toying with my fingers, a smirk of his own – this one much more malicious – graced his features.

“Hoo,” with that, he picked a finger off his waist. “Hoo,” and another.

“Y-yo, hold up!” I pleaded, my eyes widening from fear. “W-we could… we could share! Yeah! J-just don’t do anything we'll regret!”

The smirk only grew wider, a few teeth shining through on Four-Eyes’ face. He grasped the rest of my fingers and concluded with a verdict: “Hoo.”

And like that, I once again found myself at gravity’s mercy.

“Ugh, my head,” I idly rubbed my neck after popping it to loosen it up. “What the hell happened?”

As though the question had opened up the floodgates to my memory, the last memories I had before losing consciousness inundated my mind. Along with the memories of Mufasa and Four-Eyes – whose ass I vowed I would kick at my earliest convenience – I also vaguely remembered… laughter?

Fuck it. I could spend all the time in the world pondering all this as soon as I got out of my current predicament. The meat of my plan was eating, drinking, and getting the hell out of this forest, not particularly in that order. If I could find someone who wasn’t a pony or creature of myth, then the ball would be rolling. I’d ask them directions to the nearest airport or carpooling spot so I could get the hell out of here and I would never mention any of what I’d just experienced to avoid being thrown in the loony bin. I may not be completely sane anymore, or at least I know I’m less sane than I was when I first arrived, but I’m not completely crazy. I think.

“What the-?” I asked to nobody in particular. In my hand rested the fire-fruit, still shining brightly. With the sight of nourishment in my very hands, I remembered my untended hunger. Mouth watering, I took a greedy bite out of the starvation-staving gift from the heavens, or in this case trees.

That proved to be both the best and worst thing I could have done at that moment. As I swallowed down the fiery fruit, a warm feeling spread throughout my body; I felt limbered up again, rested, as though I could take on the entire world with zeal alone! However, that great feeling transformed into gut-wrenching agony as the warm feeling grew even warmer and warmer, effectively turning my insides into liquid. At least that’s what it felt like. My arms and legs spasmed with every beat of my heart, every breath I took in was hell – with every inhalation a fresh wave of searing heat spread through my lungs – and with every contraction of my stomach my organs felt as though they were mere moments from boiling away into pink mist that would then be expelled as I exhaled in sheer pain.

Every muscle in my body tightened as I felt my vision go red, thoughts of untamed violence and destruction playing across my mind, and it felt as though I should embrace these thoughts and allow them to control me. The entire time, I could vividly make out the sound of cruel laughter echoing in my head.

And, in the course of ten seconds, it was all gone. The pain, the violent thoughts, the laughter, everything. The only reminder that any of that horrifying experience had actually happened was the warmth that still resided within my stomach.
I breathed out a sigh of relief, sweat drenching my face as I chose to lie there for but a moment longer to allow myself to relax for a minute. I was firmly awake after that, but my mind was a mess. Why didn’t I go into shock? What is it with that laughter? Why is Pepé Le Pew such a perv? These are the kinds of thoughts that swam haphazardly through my addled mind, some more pertinent than others.

As I looked back at the demon-fruit, I once again began to see red, my thoughts taking a turn to the psychotic; I reared my arm back and was two seconds from tossing it back into the brush before I realized that the place had grown a bit darker than before. I didn’t exactly like the dark, especially when there were dangerous predators lurking within it. So I kept it for the time being, tightening my grasp on the demon-fruit as I soldiered onward to less green pastures.

After a few more hours of nonstop walking, credit to the demon fruit for providing me with such ample energy, I began to feel thirst tugging at my dry throat. I’d been doing a lot of yelling and writhing, so it was perfectly understandable for me to need something to drink. I continued walking until I heard the soft susurrus of a nearby stream. The sweet sounds serenaded my senses with their seamless serendipity. It seemed whatever deity was out there had finally taken pity on me! Guiding my way with the light of the demon-fruit, I eventually navigated myself to a shallow, and most importantly clear, body of water.

Oh, how I rejoiced! I fell to my knees and, without hesitation, drank heartily from the stream. I dunked my head underneath the water as I did so and only came up when the need for air outweighed the need to quench my ever-shrinking thirst.

I pulled my head out at last and enjoyed the feeling of cold water running down my matted hair and onto my warm forehead. Gotta enjoy the little things in life when there’s a chance you’re gonna get mauled to death by angry forest critters at any given moment, I say.

It was at that moment, though, that a gigantic purple serpent with a glorious moustache exploded from beneath the water, coating me in a healthy amount of cold water and ruining my tranquility.

“Hellooo, young traveler~! What brings you to these…” I was already two hundred meters down the path before he finished the sentence. “…parts?” he finished confusedly before shrugging. “There are so many strange creatures in this world, wouldn’t you say?” He asked himself before diving back underneath the surface. With that, everything went quiet again in the forest, save the bird songs and the flow of the stream.

As I ran, the demon-fruit guiding the way, I couldn’t help but think to myself how in the hell such a large… thing could sneak up on me like that, let alone fit in a stream so small!

I felt something warm build up within me before looking down to my chest and seeing that a dull light was radiating from where my heart was located. I would have had a miniature freak out over that if it didn’t seem to actually help keep me going on my feet when I should have, after all this time spent running and getting tossed about, been worn out beyond recognition.

I listed it off as just my adrenaline working excellently today as I kept running, trying not to pay attention to what seemed to be a nuclear reactor pumping in my chest.

When I finally slowed down after running what I considered a safe distance, I, against my better judgment, once again glanced down at the demon-fruit I held in my palm. Something compelled me to do so, it seemed, as – when I had no clue where next to wander – the light seemed to glow brighter, demanding my attention.

What I saw nearly made my jaw drop. Constellations. Honest to God constellations were being shown on this demon-fruit. When it was sunnier, near mid-day, all that showed was the sun in the middle of the fruit, but now that it had grown darker and the stars had taken control of the sky, the fruit seemed to mirror the formation of the stars! It was the single most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. The color of the fruit also changed to a more bluish hue, as though adjusting directly with the time of day.

This thing was effectively a compass if used correctly. A compass fruit! Goodness me, was that cool!

I brought it closer to my face in wonder and watched as the stars danced beneath the surface of the fruit, seeing one that shone even brighter than the rest. I felt the need to touch it for whatever reason. As my finger drew near, a spark connected to it from the largest star, and a smart of pain caused by the sudden jolt of electricity from the fruit caused me to tear my hand away, the smell of burnt flesh assaulting my sense of smell.

As I disconnected the charge from the fruit to my finger, I began to… see things. It’s hard to explain, but imagine being able to see the sky no matter where you are, or at least see what’s in the sky and where. I could feel the pull of the sun and sense the direction of the bright star at the same time. Like I said, it’s… surprisingly difficult to thoroughly explain in an in-depth way.

I looked back at the demon-fruit noticed that it was now empty, save for that same eerie blue glow it now had. There were no more constellations inside it for some odd reason. I shrugged and kept it to help light the way as I attempted to… feel… where the brightest star rested in the sky. I felt a gentle tugging on my mind and my legs followed.

When I heard the sound of water rushing once again, I found that I had entered a clearing in the forest, the first real clearing in miles. At what seemed to be an edge to what must have been a really long drop into more forestry lay a waterfall.

I looked up at the sky and spotted the moon, a lot closer than it should have been to the world compared to the moon of Earth. But more importantly, I saw the bright star, the one that I felt some kind of connection to. As I stared, I hardly took notice of the bright glow being emanated from my chest. I stood there for Lord knows how long before I heard another angry rumble.

Knowing it wasn’t the sound of my stomach, I breathed a soft, “Goddammit,” as I turned around, only to be met once again with the red, malice-filled eyes of my rodeo partner.

“Yo, whattup?” I asked in the most disarming voice I could muster.

A ferocious roar was all I got in response.

Why can things never for once just be easy?

Under a Starlit Night

As I turned toward Mufasa, I couldn’t help but notice something… off about him. As he roared in my face – my poor ears – I couldn’t help but point something out:

“Since when was your hair pink, bro? I gotta say, it suits you perfectly!” I foolishly stated.

“ROOOOOOOAR!!!” Mufasa eloquently retorted in a learned, and not at all primal, manner. Obviously he was thankful for the compliment. So thankful, in fact, that he tried to knock my head clean off my shoulders.

I shrieked before hitting the grass belly-down. “What the hell, man!? Can’t you take a joke?” I chirped from my now prone position.

Another roar was Mufasa’s answer. I distinctly remember this one being of murderous intent as he leapt backwards before impaling the earth where I lied only moments before. I rolled out of the way, somehow predicting the attack, before bringing myself up to my knees. The moment I came out of my B.S. combat roll, a claw met me on my ascent, leaving behind a rather nasty mark across my chest. The bastard had clawed through my hoodie, torn my shirt beneath my hoodie, and raked his dirty, razor-tipped claws across the top of my skin.

I released a pained yelp and grasped my chest as I felt something warm flowing shallowly down my belly, the cold wind seeming to freeze it in place. With the sensation of my life-fluid spilling out onto my flesh, I was surprisingly calm. I don’t know what came over me, but I guess I’d just been doing enough running for that day and was finally getting sick of this world’s nuisances.

I stood my ground, slightly hunched forward in both a small amount of pain and in anticipation of Mufasa’s next attack. We both circled one another, sizing each other up. I wasn't stupid enough to believe I could go toe-to-toe with a predator that literally kills to live, but I was planning on fending the beast off until I could think up a way to get out of this situation without being ripped in half. A small part of me noticed that, for some reason, Mufasa was glowing a faint blue as he eyed me from afar. I would have thought that strange if my life wasn’t yet again on the line.

As Mufasa lunged forth, this time with his sizable teeth leading him, I jumped to the side, landing heavily on my left arm. A small grunt escaped my lips before I once again lifted myself off the ground as fast as I could; this time, however, Mufasa wizened up and stayed right in my personal space as I attempted to dodge out of the way. There was rending, scratching, and hollering, all of it coming from me as I poorly attempted to outmaneuver something larger and quicker than myself.

I threw a wild punch and, surprisingly, it landed. An enraged howl blared from the wild man-eater as my fist made contact with his sensitive nose, giving me a brief amount of time to catch my breath after suffering such a ferocious beating.

I found that opportunity short-lived as Mufasa once again pounced, using his wings to propel himself forward ever swifter. He was still glowing, and he seemed much smaller than before, but he still was proving himself to be no slouch in the hunt.

As the menace tackled me to the ground, attempting to gnaw at my face, I managed to grab him around the maw and direct his flesh-rending teeth away from my neck. My valiant efforts were rewarded with a sharp jolt of pain traveling up the arm I had landed on earlier. I was winded after having the air knocked out of my lungs at the hard fall, but I was intent on making myself as much of a nuisance as possible if Mufasa here was planning on gobbling me up for dinner. Still, despite my resistance, the distance between his dangerous jaws and my exposed neck slowly but surely grew smaller. You remember how I said my first encounter with Mufasa was the closest I’d come to death? Yeah, well this, which I thought would surely be my last run-in with him, was all the more terrifying.

I felt my chest warm up once again, and this time it wasn’t because of my spilt blood. As the dull glow brightened, I could feel myself growing stronger and stronger, and eventually I was holding Mufasa’s head back to where he could no longer advance. Saliva spilled from his mouth in anticipation at having his next meal, but a feral hiss reverberated from his throat as he realized that I was actually putting up something of a fight.

Eventually, he raised that god-awful tail of his over his head in preparation for turning everything from my collarbone above into red mush and grey matter. I wasn’t gonna have any of that. When the tail struck, somehow I’d moved my head enough out of the way to keep it on my shoulders where it rightfully belonged. I drew myself up from under the lion-bat-thing’s stomach and kneed him under the jaw, finally getting the savage off out of my breathing space.

A surprised shout left the candy-coated killer as he looked back toward me with a dumbfounded expression, a dumbfounded expression that quickly morphed into absolute fury at my continued survival. I could tell Mufasa was beyond done with my shenanigans, and the feeling was mutual as far as I was concerned.

As he glowed, seemingly ignoring the fact that he was still shrinking, he looked deeply into my eyes the same way he had when we had first met. The red in his eyes once again made contact with the brown of my own as we stared one another down, each waiting for the other to make their move. I coulda sworn I saw a glimmer of respect somewhere deep within those strangely alluring eyes. Past all the hatred and hunger, I could see the look of veneration one gives to a worthy adversary. Only we weren’t truly adversaries. I was only something meant to line his stomach for a day’s time as he went on to search for another unsuspecting prey the next day. I wouldn’t allow myself to die in such a way.

As the both of us stood, him in a position primed to once again launch himself at me, and I ready to jump to either side, another cold wind passed over the many trees of the all-encompassing forest surrounding the clearing. I became acutely aware at this point in time that, along with the rushing of water in the waterfall, I had my back to the edge of the cliff. I quickly threw a glance behind myself at the long drop that awaited me if I were to lose my footing, breaking eye contact with the pink predator, before Mufasa made his presence known through a low hiss. I snapped my attention back towards him before gingerly reaching toward my back pocket for something I could potentially weaponize.

It was at that moment that he sprang toward me, wings erect and jaw wide. I pulled out my iPhone and threw it in his general direction, actually hitting him in the nose with the piece of human-engineering. Mufasa roared as his already sensitive nose was yet again bopped, pawing at it as the course of his flight was knocked wayward. I again dove out of the way as he collided with the ground, still clutching his face. I took that opportunity to stomp on one of his wings, eliciting a deafening screech of agony, before grabbing him and hoisting him up into the air by his mane in a feat of strength I never knew I was capable of.

Mufasa responded appropriately, scratching at my forearms – reducing the cloth to shreds – roaring, and frantically shaking his wings, including his now-broken one, in a futile attempt to escape my grasp.

“You shouldn’t’ve messed with me,” I growled, tightening my grip on his head as I idly noticed that my wounds were glowing. “You coulda picked a fight with any other creature in this forest, but no, you just had to play the ‘big cat’ and try huntin’ my ass down! Well, guess what, Mufasa!” I exclaimed in righteous fury as I moved his head closer to mine, glaring into his feline eyes.

“Long. Live. The king.”

Then, just before I could let him fall to his untimely demise in what surely would have been a badass end to this altercation, I heard a whimper; a plea; the sound of something that once stood proudly begging to be spared from damnation. It was a pitiful sound to hear coming from such a fierce predator, once immobile as a mountain in the wind; once mighty in the face of adversity, now bested by a common man. And it fueled me.

The first time this beast had tasted fear, the first time this haughty creature had faced death, the first time this pathetic excuse for an apex killer had lost. Oh, how his whines sung to me. How euphoric it was to hear the frightened sounds he produced when the reaper had his hands wrapped around his throat!

With renewed vitality, I removed one hand from Mufasa’s mane, moving the other to his neck as I stared into his pleading eyes, the mad laughter I’d been growing more used to echoing in my mind.

… And I dropped him…

No, no, not off the cliff you morons, I mean at the edge of the cliff. I may have felt better than ever after seeing the realization cross Mufasa’s face, but I still had a conscience. And although he had tried to kill my ass, I wouldn’t sleep right knowing that I went and killed someone or even something in cold blood, even if they deserved it. This decision would likely come to bite me in the ass, quite literally in this case, but at the moment I didn’t care. Besides, even if it wasn’t I who struck the final blow, Mufasa’d have no chance surviving the wild with an injury as serious as the one he was now sporting. I gave him a week at best.

Mufasa coughed and sputtered after I dropped him, looking up to me once again with all the malice of before being replaced by fear and respect. He lay his injured wing to one side as he allowed himself a moment of respite after his failed endeavor. I stared back before finally turning around, picking up my phone and the makeshift lantern that I had dropped during the scuffle, and walking the other way - I even could see through all of this that a few of my deeper cuts and gashes had been somehow healed - thinking as much as I could with the mad laughter eventually fading away.

As I stepped back into the forest, Mufasa carefully stood. He considered tracking me down and killing me in my sleep for my faux pas, but decided against it after thinking how I had shown him mercy unlike any other hunter of the wild would, choosing to walk off to another direction entirely.

At long last, all that could be seen or heard in the beaten clearing were the ghostly rays of the bright star and the rushing waves of the waterfall.

Enough Monkeying Around

Some time after my little altercation with Mufasa, I found myself once again traversing the woods. The sun was painting the horizon the pink it usually does by morning from what little I could see through the unending trees and the gentle tugging I was once again feeling on my mind, meaning that I had walked without pause for more than a few hours.

Fighting off the grasp of drowsiness resulting from me only having taken two short naps that lasted less than thirty minutes each since I’d gotten to this place, I pushed doggedly onward, knowing that if I had actually fallen asleep due to exhaustion here I likely wouldn’t wake up. The pointy shrubs of the brush nicked my skin as I passed, leaving tiny scratch marks along my exposed flesh that had miraculously healed and shown no signs of infection after the shenanigans with the pink-maned menace.

Damn bat-winged, scorpion-tailed, lion-like whatchamacallit having the audacity to tear up my clothes and leave me vulnerable to the elements. My hoodie was near-rendered useless now! Every cool morning breeze chilled me to the bone; each thorny bush that I got tangled in left small dots of red along my arms and ribs; every second that passed only made me feel as helpless as the day I was bo-

My internal whining was interrupted, rather rudely might I add, by the snapping of a twig. Fortunately, there were no more carnivores stalking me, ready to take a chunk out of my hide; unfortunately, though, the real reason behind why I gave so much attention to the useless piece of wood was because it had broken across the back of my head.

A startled shout erupted from me as I turned toward where I believed my assailant to be hidden, an annoyed scowl etching itself onto my visage as I found nothing. As I continued eyeing my surroundings, I heard something that made my heart nearly stop:

“Hoo.”

I one-eightied, nearly jumping out of my own skin, to find two familiar pairs of black eyes staring at me, all sparkling with mischief. My mouth began moving quicker than my mind had, apparently having already readied a response for this repeat encounter:

“Four-Eyes,” I accused as my eyes narrowed. I spat the name as though it were acidic, venom dripping from my very words.

“Hoo,” Four-Eyes cheerfully greeted from his inverted position. I’m guessing he was saying good morning or some good-natured tripe like that.

“Fuck you, you triflin’ little shit!” I was going to have none of it, though. “Ya toss me off of a damn tree and expect me to be all buddy-buddy wit’ you all of a sudden? That ain’t how things work! You lucky I didn’t lay you the hell out the moment I recognized you, 'cause I been pining to smack the shit outta something since I got here. And you, sir, are already pretty deserving of a broken jawline in my books!”

Four-Eyes reeled a bit at the hostility, as though it weren’t expected, lifting his hands in what I assume was to be taken as a placating gesture. “Hoo,” he calmly stated, his face going serious for a moment. He was likely telling me to get my panties out of their bunch, and I was willing to listen to what he had to say before I snapped him in twain.

“Well? I’m waiting,” I barked impatiently after a few seconds of tense silence. “You gon’ say somethin’?”

“Hoo,” Four-Eyes confirmed, his previous smile returning in full as he pulled another twig from… somewhere.

“What’re you doin'?” I queried, my eyebrows rising in cautious curiosity.

Four-Eyes looked from me to the stick, then back to me, his grin growing even wider.

“Hoo hoo.”

I took a step back, snarling as I realized what he was about to do. Instead of doing the smart thing and walking away, however…

“You better not-!” my sentence was halted as a loud thwack could be heard throughout the environs, followed by an enraged bellow.

… I stuck around and allowed this monkey to make a mockery out of me once again.

With all the dignity a man with wounded pride and a throbbing headache could muster, I launched myself at the grey-haired goon. Four-Eyes dodged out of the way by pulling himself back up into the tree, leaving me to fall ass-up when my chin hit the ground. And with that I could hear what was left of my already faltering dignity deflating like an air balloon with a leak.

“Hoo hahahaha!” the four-eyed fiend guffawed from above, perched in his little safe spot among the branches. I pushed myself to my feet and quickly jumped, reaching for the dignity-destroying dingus. He was low enough to the ground for me to almost grab his tail, but he moved it out of the way at the last second. I jumped again when it returned to its original position, only to stall myself at the sound of Four-Eyes’ uproarious laughter. The bastard was playing with me, and from the sounds of it he was getting quite a kick out of my plight. I fumed at the realization.

“Yo, get your ass down here so I can introduce it to my boot!” I threatened. I was only met with more laughter. I growled as my chest once again warmed, throwing myself shoulder-first into the tree. It hurt like a bitch, but it got the job done; the tree rocked back and forth, knocking Four-Eyes off balance and allowing me to once again grab for him. He quickly recovered, however, and like some kind of freaky gymnast reached over to another tree’s branch, complete with a somersault and a flashy twirl to top it off.

My jaw dropped for a moment before I remembered I was trying to strangle the nuisance, aggravation once again clouding my mind as I threw myself into that tree as well. Four-Eyes once again jumped to another tree, this time, though, swinging from branch to branch in what seemed to be an attempt to evade me. I quickly took chase.

As the nimble ne’er-do-well drifted from tree to tree from above, I kept pace from below as well as I could. I tore through bushes, sidestepped perennial plants, and vaulted over any sorts of flowers that glowed. The dull light that radiated from my chest shone ever brighter as I ran, seemingly fueled by my anger, as I pursued Four-Eyes.

Thankfully, there were no predators out at this time of day, so Four-Eyes and I had the forest all to ourselves; this fact made it all the more convenient for me as I had to stay on the ground in order to hope to keep up with my monkey friend; I could pay closer attention to him while he was above me and the obstacles that lay in my path as I ran along the dense vegetation along the ground.

One piece of shrubbery after another was torn asunder as I rushed through them, intent on ensuring I wouldn’t lose sight of the swift form of the grey-haired primate. Eventually, though, I stumbled over a pit I didn’t see in the earth. I quickly adjusted my footing so as to keep from twisting my ankle, landing on my back. As I hurried back to my feet, forgetting about the dirt now adorning my thoroughly ruined hoodie, I resumed my pursuit.

Four-Eyes howled from above, as though taunting me for my slip-up; I resolved that I’d repay him in full for all the humiliation that he’d put me through. I picked up my stride once again to match the speed at which he maneuvered from tree to tree, periodically glancing to the ground to make certain that no other hidden holes would halt me.

At some point during the chase, the monkey made a chirping noise that caught me off guard with its intensity. I spared another seething glance up at Four-Eyes before turning my head forward, letting loose a yell, and skidding to a halt.

There before me sat a gigantic pit that dipped deep into the earth. I couldn’t even see the bottom from where I stood. A small rock had been knocked loose by the disturbance and fell toward into the massive hole, and though I listened for it I didn’t hear it reach the bottom.

More howls sounded from above me, and I looked up towards Four-Eyes as he hung upside-down from another branch, blowing raspberries at me from afar. My fear was slowly replaced with a burning determination as I grit my teeth, knowing I was about to make one of the dumbest decisions of my life outside of walking into this forest. I stepped back a few yards before Usain Bolting toward the Pit of Doom, leaping over the colossal hole that led to what looked to be a perpetual fall into oblivion. I’d’ve probably starved to death before I hit the bottom, to be honest.

I nearly reached the other end, having to reach out to the opposite side to grasp the soft earth with my arms. I collided into the dirt ribs-first as I held onto the top-most soil, sliding further and further back toward the abyss. I tore out chunk after chunk of grass trying to get a handle on the ground to halt my backward movement; when I neared the edge I finally grabbed onto something that held, a victorious “Yes!” leaving my mouth. I spoke too soon, however, as not even a second later, the patch of grass crumbled in my hands.

Here I was, only one hand holding onto the edge of a descent into hell, while I flailed the other around in the open air in an attempt to find purchase on the ground. I finally made contact with another patch of hardened earth, using what strength I had to heave my top half over the edge before that, too, could fall to dust in my fingertips.

I pulled my knees up after and began crawling as fast away as I could from the Pit of Doom, shaking all the while. I had a deathly fear of falling, as every sane individual should. As I took a moment to regather my bearings, I heard another bout of cackling from above me. Bastard was still finding amusement in my dilemmas. I gave Four-Eyes a glare that would have killed any other being with its intensity before getting up and dusting myself off. He seemed to take that as the cue for the chase to once again resume as he continued running off into a random direction.

I followed Four-Eyes, my hot anger being fine-tuned to a cold rage as I imagined all the things I would do to him when I got my hands on him. We were entering a new area, and I could tell by the difference in the trees as well as the surrounding vegetation. Oak trees gave way to willows, cherry bushes soon morphed into bayberry, and the grass turned to a somewhat darker green.

This is where Four-Eyes finally stopped running. I skidded to a halt in the empty forest; for some strange reason none of the ambiance that I’d grown somewhat used to in the deeper parts of the forest carried on here. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it seemed as though I had stepped into someplace…sacred.

Four-Eyes dropped down right in front of me, shocking me out of my small bout of daydreaming. I looked down to him, being a good two heads taller than the puny primate.

“Oh. So you’ve finally gotten sick o’ runnin’, huh?” I breathed, a malicious smile breaking across my face as I thought about how I would reduce him to a bloodied pulp. I casually popped my neck as I looked back down at him. “Well, get on over here and accept your ass whoopin’ like a man.”

As I stepped confidently toward Four-Eyes, he… he took up a combative stance; it looked like the stance a martial artist would take in one of those Ip Man movies or something. Now a little more cautious, I continued stepping forward, nearing the troublesome creature until I stood over him.

Much like in my showdown with Mufasa, we both stared at one another for an immeasurable amount of time. The morning sun was steadily rising over the horizon by now, its light shining through the trees and upon the two of us, both stars in the limelight preparing for our great debut. The gentle breeze blew the delicate leaves of the white willow trees past us in a quiet, harmonious dance as the forest caught its breath.

Only one of us would be walking away from this as far as I was concerned.

“I’mma tear you apart, you know that?” I asked as I looked down upon him.

Four-Eyes only narrowed his eyes in response, his once playful demeanor now replaced by an emotionless mask. He raised his arms, sliding his left foot back and turning it for leverage as he bent his forwardmost leg at the knee, using his tail to maintain his balance all the while.

“Hoo,” was his response. No mischief, no laughs, nothing. It was just a statement.

I raised my own arms and settled into a boxing stance, protecting my face since I was likely going to be making the first move.

“Alright then,” I said. “Let’s dance!”

And like that, the tranquility of the silent forest was shattered.

Through Winding Tunnels and Seas of Red

…There are more than a million ways to break the mind. It only takes the faintest of whispers, soft and steady as the wind, to convince one that one is insane. It takes but the tiniest nudge in a suggested direction, the most harmless of actions, to reduce the fragile walls of the mind to rubble.

Hmhm. Even the most stalwart of individuals break in time; the greatest and most resilient of structures crumble and collapse to the earth eventually. With no foundation, no footing in your own life, let alone your place in this world, how can you hope to ever get any further than you have?

Your distress is succulent; your pain is my pleasure; your hatred sets aflame a burning zeal I’ve thought long gone. I will keep you alive for now so that you may continue writhing and clawing away for your pathetic existence for my amusement. I will see you very soon my tasty morsel~.

I could feel myself dazedly awakening, eyes heavy as I attempted to get my bearings.

“Hoo.”

I heard what seemed to be a command of some sort before a sudden explosion of pain erupted from the side of my face. I was definitely awake by then. And pissed. Let’s not forget pissed.

Tell me how you would feel if someone slapped the heavenly feeling out of your face to wake you up. That’s something a bunch of good-for-nothing friends would do to wake up someone who drank a little too much and was suffering the effects of a hangover. Not. Fun.

So me being the rational, down-to-earth kind of guy I am, with all the diplomatic powers of a warmonger on top of that, I conjured up the most reasonable, friendly response I could with a mind weighted down by both sleep deprivation and irritation:

“OW! Motherfucker! I will snap yo damn neck, dig yo grave, toss you in, an’ then piss on it as a final ‘Fuck you’ for the afterlife, ya heard!?” …I may have been exaggerating the geniality of my statement, now that I think about it…

Another loud smack echoed through the walls of wherever we were – it had great acoustics, by the way – followed by yet another cry of anger.

My bruised face ached as I finally opened up my eyes to stare into the face of the soon-to-be dead pile of trash that took it upon himself to so much as lay a finger upon my virgin face. Four more black orbs stared back.

“F-Four-Eyes?” I dumbly asked, feeling a slight surge of trepidation after seeing him again.

“Who you think you is, huh? You think you bad or somethin’, hittin’ up on sleepin’ dogs?”

“Hoo,” was his response, as per usual. He was still wearing that expressionless mask that he wore when the two of us exchanged blows, but I could see the faint shine of mischief once again painting the colorless canvas of his eyes.

Notice how I didn’t call it a fight? That’s because it was a little too one-sided to be considered a fight. It wasn’t even really an exchange of blows, either; it was mostly me getting my ass handed to me as I was tossed to and fro all over that picturesque field that belonged in an old karate movie. It wasn’t a fight, it was a massacre. Every move I made, it seemed as though this little monkey knew exactly what I would do, when I would do it, and how I would go about doing it before even I knew. That’s some scary shiz, bro.

I was taught how to fight through a few months of a boxing class and a few quarrels with the local punks of my old run-down neighborhood. I was a streetfighter who fought other people using my environment to my advantage – never play fair in a fight kids – while Four Eyes here was a martial arts master! How’s that fair!?

I was horribly outclassed. If there had been a crowd gathered to see us in our match of fisticuffs, they’d’ve booed us and demanded their money back, it was such a sad display. Now! On to the new and exciting topic of me not getting my shit kicked in by a monkey, I was getting my shit kicked in by a monkey. Sigh.

You know you’re gonna have a bad day when you’re woken up by getting slapped in the face by a primate. My day only got worse from there, however, as when I actually took the time to look around, I found the room was full of primates! They were all dressed in what appeared to be ceremonial white garbs – Four-Eyes being the only one undressed for some reason – and as I observed more of the room we were in, I noticed we were in a cave; it wasn’t just any cave, however, for there were lit candles that glowed eerie blue flames along the walls, dozens of hand-carved side rooms, and here, in the middle of it all, sat what appeared to be a throne room.

I could tell this was some sort of room for royalty because of the cliché red carpeting leading up to a throne, where an aged monkey that looked awfully similar to Master Pai Mei sat cross-legged. The Kung Fu King, as I took to calling him, had a magnificent beard that shone a pristine white, and his equally snowy hair was pinned up into a bun. The mofo even had Pai Mei’s giant, bushy eyebrows and his iconic apparel included.

I was on my knees in the middle of the room, surrounded by masters of combat, with my hands behind my back and a creeping headache making itself apparent due to the sheer exposure I’d had over the past twenty-four hours to tomfoolery.

My eyebrows furrowed as I spoke directly to the Kung-Fu King who peered down upon me through his impossibly thick eyebrows, observing me.

“So. You’re the King o’ Kung Fu? Name’s Ladarion. Now that the pleasantries are past us, can you politely show me to the nearest exit? I got things to do,” I surreptitiously began to work the bindings around my wrist, testing their sturdiness.

The Kung Fu King continued staring at me for a brief moment, staying silent the entire time.

“Well?” I snapped. “You gonna say somethin’ Master Mei, or am I just speakin’ for the sake of hearing my own voice?”

Four-Eyes once again raised his hand to strike me across the face before KFK halted him with a hand wave. Four-Eyes turned to the Kung Fu King, a surprised look etched onto his face before he bowed down to his knees in honor of his sensei’s wish. Didn’t stop him from giving me the evil eye when he once again stood, though.

I smiled a sweet smile in return before shrugging. “Them’s the breaks, bro. I know you’re positively aching to lay your banana-peelin’ fingers on me, but you better listen to what the boss man says, dig?”

Four-Eyes actually growled at me, leveling a deadly glare my way. I ignored him for the time being as I turned my attention back to the master of martial arts, raising my eyebrows toward the skinny figure.

“So are you gonna untie me or what?” I asked.

Still receiving no response, I found my patience beginning ebb away. The two of us sat there, him staring at me in interest and me staring back in mild frustration. Finally, with the wave of a hand, I felt my bindings come loose. I wasn’t even going to question that. This guy was likely the leader for a reason, and if he could cut through tough rope with his mind then I wasn’t going to risk becoming his next target. In all that I’d been through thus far, I didn’t need a Jedi as an enemy.

I kept my stare upon him, which he returned, as I rubbed my tender wrists with my hands. It didn’t even occur to me that a cold sweat had broken down my face due to the casual display of dominance. I attempted to speak once again, but my throat dried, making the words that crossed my lips emerge broken and warbled, much like a violinist who fails to play a proper note on their instrument.

The Kung Fu King bid me to rise with the motion of a hand, and so to my feet I stood. I felt naked under his gaze now, as though he could do whatever he wanted with me while I was helpless in comparison. Then returned the feeling of hatred I felt for being made vulnerable in this world. My gaze hardened, yet the sensei either didn’t notice or care as he stood, beckoning me to follow him into one of the side rooms.

I could have made a run for it, but with my lack of knowledge of the layout of the cave system, along with the guards and the Jedi, I didn’t think it would be wise to make any moves… yet.

I was followed by two of the personal guards of the Kung Fu King, distinguishable by their ornate gray garments and the presence of what looked to be undersized katanas on their persons, along with Four-Eyes as the leader walked in front of us through the winding tunnels of the cave.

The tunnels were dark and dank, the waxen, blue-flamed candles doing little to improve the lighting, and the bleak atmosphere was only accentuated by the echoes of our combined footfalls as well as the occasional sound of water hitting the cold, hard floor. The darkness wouldn’t have been a problem at any other time, but it seemed as though I had lost the fire-fruit at some point during my scuffle with Four-Eyes. Torn pockets tend to lose things like that. I still had my phone, fortunately, but I didn’t want to pull it out to shine the flashlight lest the monkeys take it for an offensive action or “appropriate” it.

The dim light would have to do for now.

After walking for what seemed to take hours, we finally approached another room. The interior, from the outside, glowed a ghastly red. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling an increasing sense of dread with every step I took for some reason, and the heat in my chest was amplified ten times over as we drew closer. I seemed to be on autopilot, my legs and mind going numb and simply shuffling after the Kung Fu King as his posse fell in step behind him also.

I could hear faint whispers in the wind that shouldn’t have run this deep within the cave system, my sight clouding slightly as we stepped into the forbidding room. Everything, from the whispers to the glow to the darkness, stank of foreboding. It all seemed so wrong. And then, as I strode to the middle of the room, still in a zombified trance, I gazed upon the source of all of this grimness: a pit.

The room was circular in structure, smoothed out by what I assumed were the monkeys, walls lined with eldritch candles approximately every three meters. Decorated upon the ground were the words of a language I did not believe existed and images of what appeared to be some sort of god-like figure “cleansing” the world with fire. The etchings were simplistic in nature, yet still very disturbing. In the middle of the room where I stood were three sets of stairs - each carved into the circular shape of the room - that descended down to a shallow pit that held the vile fluid.

KFK stepped to the side as Four-Eyes and one of the goons took up position on the other side of me, the last goon still behind. The Kung Fu King looked to me and pointed toward the glowing substance. Finally coming back to my senses as the fog in my mind cleared, my hair raised as alarms went off in my head.

“Oh hell naw! I ain’t steppin’ in that!” I said, slightly panicked, as I considered taking my chances by running for it. Even with KFK’s use of the Force, I’d be more inclined to get cut down running away from a bad situation than I would be to stare dumbly and allow whatever was gonna happen here go on without interfering.

The back of one of my legs was kicked in, leaving my on one of my knees as I shouted from surprise and pain. I would’ve made a move in retaliation for the goon’s dickishness, but the sharp set of cold steel pressed against my throat made me reconsider the wisdom of such an action.

With a nod from the Kung Fu King, the sword thankfully moved away; however, a hand found its way to the back of my head before forcing me down face-first into the fiery substance.

I kicked and flailed in my terrified state in an attempt to resurface, but the goon’s arm wouldn’t give up any ground. As the dreaded throes of agony once again made themselves known as the liquid was forced into my system, nearly drowning me in the process, my resistance only grew more desperate. My heart hammered rapidly against my chest as everything from the inside and out grew unthinkably hot. I felt as though my skin was being seared from the bone, as though my lungs were shriveling up into uselessness, as though my internal organs were becoming nothing more than mush. I’d experienced true hell twice.

Moments after, however, everything became numb; my legs and arms felt as though they were made of lead and my head felt as heavy as an anvil; my heartbeat went from nearly tearing itself out of my chest to a slow and steady rate of repetition. I could even breathe when my head was submerged, strangely.

It was then that I did lose consciousness once again, only to realize that I hadn’t retreated into my happy place as I usually did when asleep; instead, I found myself still in the room, only this time all the candles’ weird flames were extinguished and the monkeys all sat cross-legged, eyes closed and making no movements.

I looked back towards the pool, only to find that it had shrunken considerably. Although every part of my being called for me to turn around and run, I cautiously approached the small puddle, looking down upon it only to see my face being reflected off of its red surface. A bead of sweat slid down my neck before I took it upon myself to turn around and begin walking out of the circular room. Just as I was about to enter the tunnels, though, a familiar voice tickled my ears. It was the voice of my little sister.

I once again turned, letting my guard down as I sprinted back towards the puddle, the voice carrying from the pint-sized splatter upon the ground. I once again eyed the puddle as I dropped down to my knees, placing a hand into the curiously warm liquid. Memories flashed before my very eyes; memories of family and friends; memories of allies and enemies. These were memories of home.

Somewhere in the middle of my daze, though, that same sound of laughter returned. It was subtle at first, and I wasn’t even sure if I had heard it until it began to pick up in volume, deafening me as it surrounded me on all sides. Covering my ears did nothing to relieve the discomfort, for it carried on incessantly even in my mind.

Just as it was becoming unbearable, the laughter ceased. I felt myself relax as I pulled my hands away from my ears, only to find discontent as I spied blood upon my palms. All was quiet until I heard something splinter.

I very much wanted to crawl out of the tunnel while I still had time, but something compelled me to once again inch toward the puddle. For whatever reason, the crimson pond had frozen over, becoming as flat as the rock beneath it. Its surface radiated a blinding scarlet gleam from where the cracks had formed. As I continued staring on, apprehension present on my expression, the glassy-red material continued to fracture, each crack spider-webbing across the topmost part rapidly, leaving more and more light to shine brilliantly in the disk-shaped room.

Finally, when I could look no longer for fear that I would forever lose my sight, I heard a thunderous shatter. With the booming sound, I was tossed backwards backward across the room, the monkeys oddly unaffected. Pain shot up my back as I collided with the wall, me shouting out an expletive as I hit the ground once again.

I had landed face down when I heard chuckling, pulling my head up to gaze upon some form of spirit. It was red and shapeless, but it definitely had functioning vocal chords somehow. The chuckling escalated into full-blown psychotic laughter as the creature floated in place; I was steadily worming my way to the room’s exit as the spirit continued guffawing. Just as I had once again reached the way out, though, the laughter cut off.

I turned around to find the spirit staring right at me.

As I stayed in place, hoping that it wouldn’t see me if I made no sudden movements, a cruel smile crept along the spirit’s face before it said something that turned my blood to ice:

“Hello, my tasty morsel~.”

Caught in the spirit’s malicious gaze, I could feel my brain nearly shut down as I stared at it speechlessly. The same as earlier, it didn’t feel as though I was in complete control and a haze once again clouded my mind.

“I’ve yearned to meet you vis-à-vis, mortal,” said the spirit, that same fiendish smile plastered across its, or his if the masculine tone was anything to go by, face. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You may call me…Salamsala.” A small chuckle escaped from the spirit’s lips as he floated towards me.

“…” I responded as loud as I could with my jaw dropped. I slowly began to backtrack as he advanced.

“My oh my, what an interesting conversationalist you are. We are not here for small talk, though, so allow me to ask you this: do you know why you are here?” he queried. When he got no response, his smile broadened. “Well, you are here with one objective in mind: continue living. Continue to upset the balance of this already volatile world in order to ascertain my freedom from my shackles. And when all is in place, you must be the one to release me. That is all that is required of you.”

I shook my head, clearing it of the fog. “W-what’s in it for me, huh? Living, I plan on doin’ anyway. Upsetting the balance is sure to happen if the only other things in this world are wild animals or talking ponies, but I don’t plan on bein’ here for too long. Ascertaining your freedom, though? I don’t owe you a damn thing, so why would I want to do that?” I demanded.

“Because if you do not, if you prove to be worthless to me, here you will die,” Salami answered as red electricity began to dance across his…claws. “Do I make myself clear?”

Now somewhat pissed off at his arrogant attitude, I felt all the apprehension I felt but a moment before melt away as my heart once again glowed. “Transparent. And not just because o’ the fact that you’re a formless ghost, but because I can already tell how much of a prick you are after just three seconds of conversation. Demandin’ from me when you ain’t doin’ nothin’ for me? Fuck that!” I jumped up as I continued my rant.

“Kill me, if that’s the case! Strike me down! If you can replace me, then have fun with that, and if you can’t then you’s screwed unless you give me a reason to even want to help your sorry ass.” I stared right up at Salami then, my anger fueling my speech. “If you think you so powerful, then why the hell would you need my help to get outta here anyway you pompous punk? Must take some real balls – not like you have ‘em from what I’m seein’, though – to strong-arm weaker beings into doing your will, you lazy brat,” I was encouraged to finish strong by the expression that bordered on shock and enragement on Salami’s face.

“My sister is more of a man than you is. She at least knows to pick on people her own size. So fuck you, fuck everything you stand for, fuck everyone you crossed on the street, and fuck your mother and the rest of yo next of kin. Ladarion is leavin’ the building unless you have something you else need to say,” I shouted. I never said I was the smartest man around.

Salamsala fumed for a few seconds; though he was formless, I could see his glowing eye twitching as electricity jumped sporadically from claw to claw. Even his smile dipped into a deep scowl. I couldn’t tell much else about his body language considering those were the only prominent body parts that showed, but I’m pretty sure all of them were pointing toward him getting ready to zap me until I was reduced to a pile of charred remains and Timberland boots.

Though I stood defiantly, sweat began to run down my face as I realized that I very well could have sealed my fate in a bout of childishness. Didn’t matter, though. I’d make a sexy burn on the floor anyway. I was honestly about sick of having to deal with this world by now, so I was satisfied that I’d go out like a real OG, minus the crying as my blood was turned to pink vapor if the spirit decided to fry me on the spot.

“I will not lie, I did not expect that. Such an interesting individual you are, stubborn and stupid. I could very well reduce you to your atomic state, but you are correct, I am in need of your services,” admitted Salamsala as the lightning in his paws lost their intensity.

“And I ain’t interested. I got shit to do before the weekend’s over, and going outta my way to aid a churlish spirit ain’t on my to-do list,” I retorted. I was surprised I wasn’t turned into microwaved take-out, but I wasn’t going to act like I was thankful for being spared by something with as much of an ego as Salami obviously had regardless of how shocked I was.

“Ah, but I have an offer that you cannot refuse,” Salami said. I had turned around and begun walking away before I heard this, curiously turning back towards him.

“And what would that be?” I inquired.

“From what I have gathered, you do not belong here. You see, I am fueled by emotion, particularly negative emotions such as hate, distrust, and pain, to name a few. I have never felt such a surge of power, such a surge of emotion as I ever have when you arrived. Even but a moment ago, when you defied me, your outrage granted me power still.”

“Yeah? Well, you gonna keep beating around the bush or are you gonna get to the point?”

Salamsala smiled a wicked smile. “Truly I have never met a being such as you. No other would so much as breathe a word of contempt toward me. I believe we are going to get along quite nicely~.”

“Yes, I’m the chosen one-of-a-kind moron that comes along only once in a lifetime and I’m your only hope at freedom. I get that. Now, the point. As in why should I care?” I coolly responded. I was honestly growing a little impatient. I can’t believe I was intimidated by this fruit cake!

That smile grew larger and larger as my frown did the exact same. “Patience, young Padawan. I am getting to that right now. Are you interested in returning home? For I can offer this to you in return for my liberation.”

I went from agitated to hopeful in all of one second. I almost hopped in the air and shouted out for joy at having a means for leaving this wretched place for someplace familiar, but my proclivity for cynicism brought me right back down to earth.

“That’s… tempting. As in very tempting. You seem like the conniving type, though. You’re locked up in here for a reason, and I don’t want to go releasing assholes into a world, even if I don’t really give a damn about this place, before I learn about why they were imprisoned. If I find out that you’re trying to trick me in any way, shape, or form, this deal will be over before it began. I’ll simply find another spirit that happens to be less of a dick to transport me safely back home if that’s the case. The minute you step outta line, I’m through with you, ya heard?” I demanded.

Salamsala’s smile only grew wider, however. “I cannot tell you of the reasons behind my imprisonment, but I can tell you this: only two beings know of the transdimensional spell required to cross planes. There are also only two beings who have the sheer power required to perform such a spell. I am one of the beings that know of this spell, the other being a pretty pony princess named Celestia.” I pretty much tossed that option out of the window the moment I heard it. “She seems to be quite occupied at the moment, however. The only reason I’m able to be as active as I am at this moment is because there seems to be some… tension, for lack of a foreboding word, going on between her and some large foreign group,” he stated.

“ If you help me gather my power, I will return you to your home. However, if you want my word for that, you must take my paw so that we may shake on this deal,” Salami said as he extended a paw-like extremity.

I weighed the information in my mind. Salami could have been lying, but I was uncertain. All that I did know was that I wanted to go home and that this opportunity would likely not come again too soon. It seemed the most logical to go through with this “deal” of Salami’s than walking back through that damned forest to talk to some political figure that would in all likelihood either turn me into a court jester for my alien looks or possibly vaporize me when I caused an uproar in her country by simply walking through to speak to her. I didn’t even know where that princess’s castle was.

It was with this thought in mind that I decided I would go with the more assured way of going home.

“Say that I have your word first,” I stated.

“You have my word,” he answered, paw still extended.

“A’ight, then,” I said as I reached over to place my hand in his paw. “I’m in.”

The moment those words left my mouth, though, electricity shot forth from Salamsala’s paw and into me. It was certainly surprising, but it was nowhere near as painful as the fiery liquid I was forced to imbibe earlier. I grit my teeth as I took the shock like a man, thankful that I had recently shortened my hair at the local barber of my old city before arriving here.

When it was over, the spirit was once again gone, and I felt my eyes growing heavy once more.

---

I awoke in the real world to find Four-Eyes staring into my eyes, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I stared back before asking: “Yo, whattup? Lookin’ to make out or somethin’?”

That was meant to be taken as a joke, but for some reason Four-Eyes’ eyes took on a whole nother level of creepy, mischief still dancing about within them.

“Hoo,” he answered as a smile tugged at his lips. He moved closer to me, making me even more uncomfortable before I placed a hand on his chest to keep him from moving any closer.

“It’s a joke, dammit! You ain't got a snowball's chance in hell!”

I was answered with more laughter as Four-Eyes fell onto his back, clutching his stomach. I wanted to punt the little jerk, but remembered where violent action would likely get me when I recalled that I was still surrounded by karate masters. I settled on quietly simmering instead.

When I pulled myself to my feet, I walked over to the steps to notice that there was no longer a fiery pond at the bottom of them. All that I could see was a small red rock lying in the center.

The Kung Fu King was inspecting it, too, and moved to pick it up. With the rock in his hand, he rotated it around to check every part of it before walking over to me and holding it out.

“…What?” I lamely asked. “You want me to take that? I don’t wanna touch that thing!”

As the goons placed themselves behind him, I quickly changed my mind. “Y-you know what? I forgot I absolutely love…colored rocks that serve no purpose,” I said as I snatched the object from KFK’s hand before his goons decided to demonstrate how sharp those katanas of theirs were. I pocketed it as the others began walking back out of the room. Finally. I know I haven’t mentioned it in a while, but not being able to feel the tugs of the sun and that bright star was beginning to wear on my mind. Ever since I’d been down in these tunnels I couldn’t tell what time of day it was, and for some reason that made me very anxious.

I moved to follow the posse, Pai Mei’s monkey twin leading from the front, as we once again traversed the dark caves.

A Whiff of the Desert Air

I had somewhat expected that we’d be walking back to the head guy’s HQ so the monkeys could take turns beating me black and blue, just as Four-Eyes had done; however, when I heard the faint soughs of the wind and felt the air brush past my ears, I was excited, if very confused. Like I mentioned earlier, I wasn’t expecting to have a very happy ending here, but for them to simply lead me to freedom? It was a breath of fresh air, both in the literal and figurative sense.

The wind was a bit dry, however, and when we neared the exit of the cave I could see that sand littered the mouth of the cave.

“Yo, where we goin’?” I questioned, honestly confused as to how we could move from white willow trees in the forest to sand in what appeared to lead into the wastes. How far did they drag me when I was knocked unconscious a little while ago?

I got no response as we continued walking against the soft, and for some reason dry, wind. I could spot what appeared to be the statue of a Chinese dragon – Mushu from Mulan, it looked like – near the gape of the cave.

The statue was partially eroded from age and wind, but the figure still looked sturdy. Sand was jammed into every crevice that was created by both environmental exposure and any nook and cranny that was already carved into the statue originally, and as I walked up to it, concerning the monkeys had stopped for a moment, I looked up into its eyes.

I reached out to touch it before its lifeless eyes moved to my own, making me tear my arm away from it in fright. A soft expletive crossed my lips as I looked back towards the statue, which no longer seemed to be staring back.

I stared for a while longer before shaking my head as the Kung Fu King stepped up next to the statue, Four-Eyes and the goons in tow. They all bowed and began reciting some dead language in hoarse, airy tones as I stepped out of the way. The statue’s eyes began to glow red, and I noticed that something in one of my pockets was glowing the same color. I threw my hand into my pocket, fishing around my phone for the crimson stone I acquired.

Sure enough, when I pulled the stone out it was what was making the demonic glow. Holding the crimson stone in my hands, I could feel that it was very warm to the touch, and as the eyes of the statue emitted the otherworldly red light, I could see what looked to be a flame form inside the stone, much like the flame that was contained within the fire-fruit I had eaten from the tree branch back in the forest.

The soft echoes of laughter rang once again in my head as I glanced from the stone back to the statue, which seemed to be fueling the flame within the rock. A small feeling of trepidation welled up inside me as I hypothesized just what the source of this energy transfer was, the heat the wind carried on it not helping in any way with the small spike in my heart rate.

The volume of the chant picked up noticeably, as did the zeal, as the light inside the statue radiated brighter and brighter until finally the chant ceased. With the end of the murmurs of the monkeys, the glow in the eyes of the statue died out, leaving deep cracks in its surface.

KFK and the others slowly rose, seeming to be slightly drained of vitality as they moved shakily to their feet. He turned his eyes to me as he spoke in a withering tone. “This…shall grant you power…whenever you need it. The stone…is the key…to your salvation,” he said cryptically as he looked up to me, his age for the first time actually showing.

“The key to my salvation.” I softly mimicked. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I use this I’ll be able to go home?”

“The stone…is key…to your salvation,” he repeated gravely.

“So…am I able to go home?”

I was answered with a headshake. “Damn it all,” I whispered. “So where do I go from here? You can’t honestly expect me to venture through the...” I gestured to the dry, cracked landscape of the flat desert. “You can’t expect me to go through the desert like this.”

With a snap, the goons produced two medium-sized water canteens and a small bag with objects that clanged like loose change within. They walked up to me, holding up the offerings. I took the items from their small hands, tying the strings of the bag with the loose change around one of the belt straps on my pants and choosing to simply hold the water canteens in my hands.

Another fire-fruit was offered as well. I would have declined it, but after remembering how limbered up I felt before the excruciating pain took hold made me reluctantly remove the fruit from the hands of one of the goons. If I did end up in agony once again after eating it, I took solace in knowing it would only last for about a minute before vitality and hydration once again made themselves known.

“Thanks, I guess. Though y’all’re assholes for beatin’ my ass an’ stuffin’ my head in a tub of demon ejaculate, I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. Except for one thing…” I looked down at Four-Eyes, the both of us narrowing our eyes at one another once again. “This ain’t over, Four-Eyes. I’mma cash in on that ass-whoopin’ I owe you before I leave this place for good, I promise you that. So prepare thyself, Four-Eyes, cuz you an’ I got unfinished business between us,” I determined as I stared the monkey in question down.

In what seemed to be an unexpected move to him, I held out my hand in the first friendly gesture I made toward him. Four-Eyes gaped, perplexed at the display of sportsmanship, looking from me to my hand before reaching out to grasp it.

We shook hands for a brief moment before breaking the gesture. Four-Eyes looked up to me, that playful twinkle in his eyes replaced with disbelief and a trickle of respect as my own carried a glimmer of grim determination and a small amount of anticipation.

“Peace out, mothafuckas,” it was with that farewell that I turned around and walked purposefully into the unforgiving desert, the monkeys all turning around and walking back into the bowels of the cave. Four-Eyes looked over his shoulder at me as he walked, pausing for but a moment before smiling.

“Hoo,” he affirmed before turning forward to follow the others into the cool tunnels of the cave.

Author's Notes:

Only took an hour of time this time around. I've been drawing blanks the past few days about how exactly I'm gonna get this story moving the direction I want it to. So far, I've got a great idea for where I want the story to go in my mind's eye, but I just don't yet know how to steer myself there without making the story uninteresting altogether.

I've been making character sheets for characters I know I want in the story, prettying up their biographies and everything! Laziness was only a minor factor in me not getting this out sooner.

Anyway, sorry for the short chapter guys, but I hope my work's been improving since my debut into the authorial world of FiMFiction. Thank you to all of you who are still following this story! And on that note, peace out mothafuckas!

Parched

“On the road again…Just can’t wait to get on the road again…”

As the unforgiving rays of the sun licked at my skin, causing generous amounts of sweat to run down my body, I couldn’t help but sing a small song in hopes of taking my mind off the sweltering heat of the arid badlands I was currently traversing. Gotta hand it to Willie Nelson, he made some catchy tunes for wandering about.

“… The wife I love is gettin’ groovy with my friends…”

I had emptied the first canteen of water the monkeys gave to me in minutes. I’m a bit of an idiot like that. And with the pounding of the torrid air against my face, along with the dryness of my throat, I couldn’t help but feel tempted to down the second flask I carried with me as well.

“…I bet’ not see that bitch again~.”

Listen, I never said I actually knew the lyrics to the song. I was tired, delirious, and I was almost above my boiling point, so don’t give me any flak for that! Anyway, I successfully resisted the urge to go bottoms up with the last bit of the ever so thirst-quenching, life-preserving, and all around god tier canteen of H2O I held in my hands, choosing to instead take a small, reassuring sip from the half-empty container. Wait what!? Half empty! Since when!?

I had a minor freak out as I looked all around, finding nothing but cracked land and a distinct lack of vegetation. All of these factors combined with a small amount of water did nothing to alleviate my hysteria. In what seemed to be becoming a daily exercise, my breathing once again picked up as I realized that I could very well die out in this desert.

It was at that very moment that a shadow passed over me, causing me to look up towards the cloudless sky in puzzlement. Up there I saw something that made me very uncomfortable. A vulture.

“How quaint,” I commented. My words betrayed the trepidation known only to a man who was fearing for his life. When my mortality was called into question, I nearly panicked. If I did die out here, I’d be bird food!

Looking back down towards the ground, I found the skull of…something… picked free of its flesh and very old if the cracks in the structure of it indicated anything. I chose a random direction and ran as quick as my legs would take me when I realized that this would be me if I didn’t get out of this desert soon.

After many more hours, with the sun still high in the sky, I continued my tormented trek through the vast wasteland of watchful vultures, decrepit land, and flesh-searing sunlight. Panting like a dog, I drank from my water canteen, only to find there was only enough for a mouthful of water. I shook the container, surprised, as though the action would restore the fluids that were once held within before letting out an exasperated sigh. That was the last of any kind of nourishment I had next to the fire-fruit, and I wasn’t too keen on learning of any other side effects that fruit had on me after the agony in the forest and the glowing heart as a result. I took a bite anyway, feeling a minute trace of pain and seeing a faint haze of red cover my eyes for but a moment before I began to feel less like a dried pear. Huh. Guess smaller samples of the thing meant less pain, but also less benefits.

I pulled out my phone once again, attempting to make some kind of call to anyone. Although the battery was at an appalling ten percent, I called the authorities once again, but when they wouldn’t pick up after about four or five times I grew somewhat desperate. I dialed my sister’s number this time, hoping with bated breath for someone on the other end to pick up. The battery kept on draining all the while, now hitting five percent. A minute passed…then two…and it finally went to voicemail after the fifth.

“Hello, this is Tamaria Coleman. Unfortunately, I’m not near my phone at this moment in time. Please leave a message for me after the beep. Beep!” She even made that cute little beep sound at the end of the message, just like she used to when we were but children in kindergarten as we played firemen. Or as she would say, firewomen. Heh. It was humbling knowing that I could very well expire in the next hours’ time, knowing I could very well never get to see Tamaria’s face again.

I realized that a stray tear or two had spilled from my eyes upon these grim thoughts, remembering with trembling lips that the voicemail was still recording.

“H-hey, little troublemaker. It’s your big bro…” Suddenly my voice had gotten even drier than it had before, and it wasn’t because of the dehydration I was suffering from. “…Y-yeah, jus’ callin’ to check up on you, girl. I been feelin’ a bit worried about you, like a big brother does. It’s my job to worry about you, you know?” I had trouble putting together anything meaningful, but for me, every last word I could get to her was the most valuable thing I could imagine. The battery hit three percent.

“I know we weren’t exactly on the best terms when we last saw each other, but I jus’ wanted to apologize for bein’ such a dick to you an’ your boy. It was outta line, an’ I had no justification for what I did,” Two percent… “Anyway, I wanted to call to say it may take a while before we can see each other face to face…if you even want to see me again after that… but know it ain’t because I’m ignoring you or anything. A few complications with my landlord and with the phone bills are keepin’ me from picking up phone calls an’ stayin’ at home for the time being. So if I don’t return your calls, don’t be discouraged, just know that Ladarion is tryin’ to pull his finances together for a bit,” One percent.

“Tamaria. Go and be happy with your boy. If I don’t speak to you in a while…just know that I will always support you no matter what, even if I don’t always show it. I love ya, sis…”

And with that, the voicemail ended, and the screen went black. I stood there for another minute or two, simply staring at the screen. When I came out of my trance, I wiped my eyes clear of their tears with dirty hands before feeling the tug of the bright star somewhere up in the sky, choosing to follow the strange feeling. I was gonna get home. Sooner or later, I was gonna get back to my family, back to my sister. At that moment, though, I had the more impending matter of getting out of this hellhole before I fried.

I tore the rest of my shirt and hoodie from where Mufasa left his clawmark on my chest, letting the tattered clothing flutter off to the side as the rest of my torso was exposed in order to prevent myself from overheating.

By now I had eaten the rest of the fire-fruit, bit by bit, over the course of my hellish journey. I was fortunate enough to be hydrated enough to continue producing sweat to prevent my skin from being grilled by the harsh rays of the sun, but I was unfortunate enough to have gotten a bit delusional from the extended time walking in a direction that seemed to be taking me nowhere.

The sameness of the landscape was maddening, and I was so caught up in the thought of water that I tricked myself into believing that the first dip in the ground was an oasis. I merrily jumped into the dip, only to howl in pain a moment later when I hit solid earth instead of weight-dampening water.

Now here I was, walking through the exact same uniform brownness and dust after pulling my hurt form out of the small hole. The occasional tumbleweed rolled by, capturing my attention as I would stare at them until they became mere dots in the waning blood-red sunlight. Soon I wouldn’t have to worry about the extreme heat; instead, I’d need to worry about the icy cold come nighttime.

I scratched at the stubble that had begun to form on my chin as I trudged ever onward, hoping for some sign of civilization in this dusty plain. As I thought this, however, shadows once again passed over me. Looking up, I expected to see the vultures that were tailing me, likely waiting until I finally dropped from exhaustion to swoop down and savage my carcass.

What I saw, however, were no vultures. In the air, two figures circled me, one a pony with wings and the other a…bird of some sort? What in the hell kind of scavengers were these? Last I checked, ponies were herbivores. And if these two could fly, why were they in this desert instead of, oh I don’t know, at home or something? What were they doing out here of all places?

My confusion increased exponentially when they both gradually descended towards me after what seemed to be an exchange of words between them. When they landed in front of me, I backed up slightly, still wary of the other beings on this world. What can I say? Being nearly torn asunder by wild animals, tossed out of trees by karate-fighting monkeys, and coerced into accepting deals with malicious spirits does a number on a man’s ability to trust others.

“Whaddya make of it, Tony?” asked the bird thing, looking at me with a predatory gleam that I knew far too well by now as though I were a giant chunk of meat. It looked like a feathered lion with a beak. I was never too big into mythology when there were so many fascinating stories about real life in history books, but I’m pretty sure this was what the Greeks would call a griffin.

“I have no clue as to what it could be,” answered the pony as he gazed at me in curiosity. “Ya think we should take it to the boss? He does like his selection of one-of-a-kind critters. ‘Sides, it ain’t like he got anywhere better to be, what with bein’ caught out here anyways.”

The two goons were wearing what appeared to be vests, the griffin with two sets of straps around one of her thighs that carried a compact bag that was held closed by a buckle and the winged pony with a vial of some sort hanging from around his neck.

I took a step back as they began talking about me as though I were mere property, a weak growl escaping my cracked lips as I bared my teeth.

“Yo, I can hear y’all, y’know? Quit speakin’ about me like I’m some cheap item on the dollar menu, for Christ’s sake! And while you at it, can you kindly scamper off back to wherever the hell y’all came from?” I commanded angrily. I didn’t even think to ask them for directions before I told them off, I idly thought as I sat there, waiting for them to heed my advice. When they didn’t, though, I spoke again.

“You hear me? Get the hell outta here! Shoo! I don’t want nothin’ to do wit’ y’all, okay?”

The two thugs stood there, motionless, looking at me as though I had grown a second middle finger on my hand when I lifted it up to them for their viewing pleasure.

“Y-you can speak?” asked the griffoness, obviously caught off guard.

I moved to respond before ‘Tony’ jumped and shouted with excitement.

“Hot diggity! Y’know what that means? Extra pay from Boss Man! Anesthetize this critter, Hawkeye!” the blue-coated pony exclaimed.

I took another step back as the griffiness reached toward her sack.

“Whachu think you doin’-!” I managed to blurt out before a pill hit me in the cheek, bursting into powder as it made contact with my face. I choked on my words as it grew difficult to breathe through constricted lungs, water pouring from my stinging eyes as the substance made contact with them.

The world spun as I fell to my knees. I clutched my throat as I looked up to the now fuzzy figures as one of them strode up to me. I let out one more strangled sound before a sudden spark of force knocked me to the ground, the world growing murkier and murkier before I finally succumbed to the blackness.

I felt submerged. The world shifted into and out of focus, colors inky and dulled. I heard various voices around me, but they all sounded muffled, as though I was listening to them underwater.

I could make out two – no three – voices as I sat on the line between consciousness and limbo, one being notably female, while a bit deeper than the usual woman’s voice, and the other two being distinctly male. One was excited and enthused, with a childish tone to the words, while the other was grim and baritone, like that of an overworked man.

More mumbling continued as I heard the clippity-clop of hooves approaching my side. Then, as what sounded like a command sounded in my ears, my jaw was forced open and something cool traveled down my throat. It was cold and bitter on the way down, and it felt as though ice was forming on my very breath as I exhaled before coughing and sputtering as the liquid got to my stomach, making the muscles there tighten and contract the same as they had done in my esophagus.

My eyes shot open in panic as I continued hacking, my body attempting to expel the fluid from my system before I froze from the inside out. I could see my cold breath on the air despite for some odd reason sweating profusely. My pupils dilated as my eyes adjusted to the rather dark room I was in, the only light source being a dingy lamp hanging overhead.

My heart pounded in my chest, glowing ever bright as fear consumed me. I looked down to see that my arms and legs were bound to a rickety wooden chair, the realization that I was tied up and defenseless doing nothing to cull my feelings of utter terror. When my coughing stopped, I heard a small hem from in front of me.

As I looked up from my bindings I saw two figures, one a large griffiness with a pack buckled around one of her thighs and a balaclava tied around her neck, seeming come up to my chest if I were to stand in front of her, and the other a pony with a maroon coat and a short black mane. The pony was pretty small in comparison to the horses of Earth, looking to only measure up to around my ribcage, so that took some of the fright out of me at least.

While I was looking at the both of them, I noticed the griffon was tossing my bag of change in one of her…whatever the hell the word for griffon hands is, a cocky grin on her face. Both were staring at me with an unsettling amount of scrutiny, the red pony’s dull brown eyes and the griffon’s fierce orange eyes seeming to dissect me with but their eyes.

I started when I felt something prod me in the ribs, expecting the object to be a baseball bat or something that these thugs would use to beat my head in until my skull went concave. Instead, another pony was sitting next to me, this one being the vested blue…pegasus, I think they’re called, that ordered the griffon to pacify me so they could carry me off to here. Wherever here was. His mane was a sandy tan, being both messy and long.

I saw him placing the necklace with the vial back around his neck, somehow grasping string with hooves, as I glanced in his direction. So that’s what I was forced to imbibe.

The blue pegasus looked over at the maroon pony and called out. “Well, Boss Man, he’s awake. So whadda we do now?” he asked in an energized way that honestly didn’t make me any more comfortable. His sharklike grin worried me even more.

The other pony, who lacked both wings and the horn that a few of the others I saw had, continued stripping me down with his muddy brown eyes. The griffiness off to the side seemed to have a more lascivious expression on her predatory visage, a dangerous glint in her avian eyes as she essentially stripped me down the same as the red pony, but only less meticulous and mechanical; instead, her gaze was more…curious, I guess. Disconcerting was an understatement.

The pony continued to look at me, a tense silence beginning to settle over the dark room, only broken by my heavy breathing and the jingling of the coins in the bag Hawkeye tossed up and down in her hands. At long last, the pony opened up his mouth to say something:

“For now? Nothing,” he said as he advanced toward me. “At least not yet. Creature, do you know why you’re here?” asked the pony. I simply stared back at him with no small amount of fear in my eyes. Normally I would have been pissed by someone not using my name, but at the moment I didn’t feel I had any room to speak, what with awakening in the custody of a questionable band of individuals.

“Yes, that is about what I expected. Do you know where you are at the least?” he questioned. I simply shook my head, realizing that the icy liquid made it impossibly difficult to form coherent words.

The pony, now face to face with me, being only slightly smaller than me in my seated position, closed his eyes as he hummed in thought. “Interesting. Well, allow me to tell you what I know then, creature,” he said as his dull eyes took on a small, sadistic shine. He leaned forward. “You are in our custody. You are tethered and defenseless. You have no idea where you are, why you are here, or what we are going to do to you. We can do anything we want with you and you will be helpless.”

A spark of life, however malignant, gleamed in his large brown orbs before dying out, being replaced once again with his dull, dead stare.

“However, we will do none of that to you so long as you sit there and answer our questions without protest. Let us begin; what sort of creature are you?” he asked. A wave of relief washed over me when he told me I would come under no more harm if I obliged his request.

I moved to speak when suddenly I froze, coughing once again. The pain I experienced with what felt like ice forming in my chest, the cold nearly extinguishing the heat and glow of my heart that usually shined when I was under duress. I chose not to attempt to speak when what felt like a spear pierced through my heart in order to avoid any more pain.

“Are you going to answer? It is a simple question I am asking after all. You’re quite the novel sight, if I do say so myself,” said the maroon pony.

When he was answered only by my silence once again, the blank expression on his face shifted into one of mild annoyance. He turned to the vested blue pony off to my side.

“He is obviously intelligent, Tony, so why isn’t he speaking?” asked the “Boss Man”.

Tony turned back to me with a small frown, tugging at the vial around his neck nervously as he spoke. “Dunno, Boss Man. What I do know, though, is that this here critter sure was speakin’ when we first met. Swears like a sailor, too, as a matter o’ fact,” responded Tony.

Boss Man turned back to me, leveling another stare at me as I continued to pant from both pain and dehydration. “Hm. I honestly don’t care what you are, so if you choose not to sate my curiosity, then so be it. Tell me this, though: why were you in the middle of the desert when Tony and Hawkeye found you?” he asked as he gave me some breathing room. When no response came from me yet again, he closed his eyes, reopening them as a dangerous glint tinted them.

“If you are going to remain silent, then I see no point in extending this meeting any longer than I already have,” he turned around and walked to the door that led outside the room, putting a hoof on the handle before turning back to the griffiness. “Hawkeye, keep watch over this creature. I know that he is restrained, but it’d be foolish to leave him alone. Tony, follow me out, we have something to discuss.”

With those parting words, the pony broke physics as he somehow turned the door handle before exiting the room, the blue pony following him through the door. I calmed down a bit as the Boss Man left, enjoying the peace and quiet before a female voice pulled me out of my reverie.

“Well~. Looks like it’s just you and me for now,” my breathing once again picked up as Hawkeye approached me, that predatory look in her eyes as she scanned me over all the while. She placed the sack of coins on the ground, forgetting it as she stared rapaciously into my eyes. As she loomed over me, I couldn’t help but feel the bindings around my arms and legs seemingly tighten as I knew there’d be no escaping this situation. I could only lean backwards into the chair to distance myself from her as much as possible as she got closer and closer.

Just as Hawkeye seemed as though she were about to make a move, Tony opened the door. He stared in shock at the two of us as Hawkeye hovered over me, the griffiness letting out an agitated groan in response to his interruption.

“Ugh, what is it, Tony? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” asked Hawkeye, making no move to get out of my personal space. The return of Tony was a godsend, but I was still scared out of my mind at what Hawkeye was likely going to do to me.

“Uhh…” the pony responded somewhat awkwardly. “Pardon the, uh, intrusion. I-I got some water for this here critter, iffn ya don’t mind. Thought he’d be more talkative if he were to wet his whistle,” he said as he, too, approached my bound form. He had a pail of the aforementioned substance balanced upon his back as he moved towards us. I would have been amazed by the amount of skill that must have taken if I wasn’t being held captive and nearly jumped by a crazy mythological creature.

He stopped by the side of my chair, the griffiness finally stepping back so she could snatch the bucket from his back, placing it on the floor.

“Thank you, now leave,” said the griffiness in a venomous tone.

Tony wilted under her glare and tone, choosing to heed her advice as trotted quickly out of the room.

“Damned pest. Ruined the mood,” I heard Hawkeye mutter.

She turned toward me, a small smile creeping onto her face yet again, this one less wild. “Well, guess I get to handle rehydrating you. Wouldn’t want you to croak due to drying up, after all.”

I still felt wary about being around her, but water is water, and I needed quite a bit of it if I wanted any hope of getting out of this place without dropping from dehydration.

As she turned away from me to pick up the pail, I couldn’t help but think to myself how badly I needed to get out of this situation. I wasn’t exactly in agreeance with being tied to a chair after being knocked cold in the middle of the Mojave.

‘I gotta wait,’ I thought to myself. ‘I gotta wait for the right opportunity to get the hell outta here.’

As the griffiness raised the water to my lips, I couldn’t help but drink heartily, my throat as cracked and dry as the desert outside. When their guard was down, that was when I would make my move, but in order to do anything I’d need to muster all the strength I could. So it was with this thought plaguing my mind that I sat back, still nursing from the bucket, waiting for the perfect moment to escape…

A few hours later, I was still sitting in the rickety wooden chair, my arms and legs no less tied up. As relieved I was to not have someone else trying to jump my bones without my consent, along with finally getting a bit of water into my system, I was still on edge.

Thankfully, the griffiness who was about to do the bone-jumping earlier was sitting away from me by the wall furthest from me, near the door. She seemed less intent on messing with me after Tony’s interference earlier, but that didn’t stop her from glancing in my direction every now and again from her position on the floor. She had sat down in a position akin to the Sphinx and chose to play with my bag of change once again. I don’t know why she seemed so happy to have a bag full of quarters, but hey, I’m guessing she was a gamer or something. I know I enjoyed arcade games when I was but an ankle-biter.

Hawkeye splayed herself out as she played with the coins, flipping one up over and over again. I couldn’t help but watch as she did so, what with the boredom that accompanied my isolation in this dank room. Hawkeye noticed that I was watching her, smiling as she continued to flip the coin.

“Heads or tails?” she asked, looking my way with a small grin. I was surprised by her directly regarding me, put on guard when I remembered what possibly would have happened had her blue-coated partner in crime not arrived when he had. She was probably just as bored watching over me as I was having to be here in the first place, but I wasn’t going to allow myself to be lulled into a false sense of security by her amicable tone.

My voice was hardly doing any better, but I was able to put about one or two words together, even if with great difficulty. About a dozen questions swam about in my head as I attempted to keep myself alert, but I eventually consented, finding no harm could come out of obliging the griffiness’s request.

I cleared my throat, which now wasn’t as dry, and attempted to speak.

“T-tails,” I responded. My voice came out like an avalanche sliding down a mountain made of barbed wire, broken glass, and sandpaper.

The griffiness’s smile dipped a bit when she heard my gravelly voice, but a smirk soon settled on her beak when she realized what I had said. She flipped the coin and snatched it out of the air before it hit the ground, placing it upon the back of her wrist. She hummed when she inspected the quarter, her smirk growing wider.

“Looks like you got it,” she said before looking back toward me. “Not bad. But games like this are hit and miss, y’know? You’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of guessing right, but you can’t know which side you’ll land on, face down or face up. You never know where you are until the dirt is in your eyes or the sky hangs overhead.”

I didn’t know where this sudden philosophical lecture was coming from, but I decided it was better to have Hawkeye talking over there than touching me over here.

I moved to speak, my words stinging my throat as I talked. “The f-funny thing about chance, though, is that it comes in copious quantities. You’re never stuck in the dirt or looking up.”

She turned to me, surprised that I actually was conversing with her. “Yeah, you may be given various chances to do something, but it’s never truly in your control where you land or for how long you stay there. It’s the invisible hands of fate that flip a coin that gives you the opportunity to see things anew. Some are more likely to fall onto a certain side, and you can tell which side they’ve fallen to by how worn out that side is. You can’t easily change when you’re stuck in the mud.”

“I don’t get stuck flat on one side. I roll with the choices, always balancing myself out to ensure I ain’t caught in the earth or simply dreaming. I like to keep my options open, an’ I don’t allow myself to fall victim to the “invisible hands of fate” like I’ve seen others do. The moment you quit rollin’, the minute you stop movin’ forward, is the moment you allow yourself to be influenced by these flimsy-,” I was interrupted by a harsh cough before continuing. “These flimsy external tides. You can’t let others dictate how you’re gonna live and where you’re gonna fall, or even if you’re gonna fall. You just gotta keep rollin’.”

Hawkeye's grin slipped as I talked, shifting to a thoughtful expression as she continued flipping the coin before it slipped between her talons and landed sideways on the floor, rolling slowly before settling in a standing position, both sides showing. Hawkeye stared at the coin in shock before looking back to me with a newfound interest – this one less lecherous and more curious.

“Pheh. Didn’t know you could speak without so much as a single swear in every sentence. Much less in a philosophical sense,” she said.

“Well, I tend to cuss when I’m stressed out. It helps me cope with situations where I’m about to get kidnapped by thugs in the middle of the desert while suffering the adverse effects of dehydration,” I responded. “And I ain’t so much as philosophical as I am pragmatic. In the end, it’s easier to keep balance between two choices or find a third way to do things than it is to give in to the fatalistic view that there are only a set amount of options to go about things in life.”

Hawkeye jerked back a bit at the bite in my tone, along with the fury in my eyes, when I told her of her part in my current situation, but continued looking on at me as I spoke.

The griffiness scratched at her beak. “Hey, just so you know, it’s nothing personal. Everyone’s gotta make a little dough someway, y’know?” she asked as she glanced at the upright coin out of the corner of her eye.

“So you abduct people that you find in the desert then? What the hell am I even doing here?” I asked. My blood was beginning to boil and my heart once again warmed as I felt the sting in my throat grow numb.

The griffiness looked back to me with a stony mask covering her features. “I can’t answer that. And even if I could, I wouldn’t tell you,” she answered. At that moment, I couldn’t help but notice the coin fell to one side as she responded.

Hawkeye slowly advanced toward me as she continued. “Remember, we are the ones who hold the power here. We are the ones who ask the questions. And now that you can speak so clearly, maybe you can answer a few of them when Barney gets back,” she icily said as she closed the distance betwixt us.

I’m guessing Barney – as ridiculous as that name was – was that maroon pony with no special features outside of a tramp stamp on his ass. I wasn’t paying enough attention to his behind to tell what it was, but I remember it having something to do with water. Now that I think about it, even the blue pony had one. The only person missing an ass tattoo was Hawkeye, not that I was looking or anything.

I glared into Hawkeye’s orange eyes, intense as a flame, with a challenge resting within my own. I grit my teeth, a frustrated sound escaping from me as I looked away, declaring her the victor of this small battle of the minds.

She finally backed off as I broke eye contact, moving back to her Sphinx-like position near the door, picking up the coin and looking at the dirty side of it. She made a small huff as she continued flipping it in her talons. The silence returned, only broken by the flipping of the coin.

I knew being difficult wouldn’t get me out of here, so she could take as many victories as she wanted. After all, this was only a small battle.

I, however, aimed to win the war.

An undiscerned amount of time later, I was awoken by the sound of jangling keys, followed by the opening of a door. Tony had traded positions with Hawkeye over watching me, saying something about the ‘night watch’. This information, along with the gentle tug of the sun on my mind, allowed me to conclude that it must have been early in the morning by this time.

In strode Hawkeye once again, one of my canteens in her claws along with a slice of bread. Thank God, because I was actually getting sick of having to drink out of a bucket. She kicked Tony as she passed him, startling the pony who was beginning to doze off, before looking to me.

“Morning,” she said in a chipper tone. She must have been an early riser. I couldn’t empathize with that, as I was somewhat irked at having my slumber, as uneasy as it was, interrupted by another. I didn’t respond as she walked up to me, holding up the piece of bread before picking a piece off of it and guiding it to my lips.

“Come on~. Open up wide, ‘cause here comes the choo-choo train,” she childishly said. A small, amused smile carved itself into her beak as she continued her immature behavior. I simply gave her a deadpan glare. Great, and here I thought she’d be too drowsy to mess about.

Tony gave an exaggerated yawn before calling out to the annoying griffiness. “Ugh, would ya just feed the dang varmint already? Quit playin’ around with him.”

Hawkeye turned toward the pegasus pony with a look of false woe, the claw holding the water canteen and the rest of the untorn bread covering her feathered chest where I assume her heart would be. That is, if the creatures of this land even have hearts.

“Why, I’ve no clue what you’re implying, Mr. Feathers. I’m but a dutiful griffiness who’s feeding an otherwise helpless creature in his time of need!” said Hawkeye in a melodramatic tone of faux ignorance. “I would never think to take such a vital assignment, no, obligation so carelessly, and I do think that I am due for an apology after such an unthinkable accusation!”

Tony rolled his eyes. Turned out he’s the one who doesn’t enjoy mornings, which I found pretty surprising considering how energetic he seemed otherwise.

“Just hurry it up, Hawkeye. You and I both know that we ain’t got all day,” responded the pony. “You’ll get plenty o’ time to…talk with him when it’s your shift.”

Hawkeye gave the pony an eyeroll of her own before turning back to me, grinning all the while.

Now I’m not going to sit here and describe what may have been one of the most emasculating experiences in my life in too much detail. I’m not planning on giving anyone too much ammunition with which to shoot down the rest of my hopes and dreams with naught but humiliation.

I attempted to get the overly large bird to free my hands so that I could feed myself, but she denied me that small request. In all honesty, she was likely just being cautious to ensure I wouldn’t just strangle her when I could use my arms, and I’m not going to confirm or deny whether I actually would have if I was given the opportunity.

She took her time, too. Piece by tiny piece she would give me the bread before finally allowing me to drink from the canteen when the entire slice was devoured. What could have been a three minute thing took an excruciating amount of time. I wanted to get out of this place all the more because of this.

‘Soon…,’ I vindictively thought to myself, sucking up my pride only because I wasn’t going to turn down food or drink.

When she was finished tormenting me, the griffiness set her attention back to Tony, giving him a cheeky smirk. “Oh, I just remembered. Barney wants to see you, Tony. Said something about an opportunity for a bonus payment,” she said to the blue pony.

Tony’s ears shot straight up, his fatigued expression one-eightying into that of excitement at the mention of money. “Really? Well I ain’t gonna keep him waiting if that’s the case!” he said enthusiastically as he trotted quickly to the door. “Watch this here critter for a bit, Hawkeye. I’m gonna check what it is the boss man wants.”

With those parting words, the pony hurriedly opened the door and exited the room, another jangling of keys accompanying the sound of the locking mechanism of the door being activated along with the subsequent echo of hoofsteps fading down a hallway signifying that I was once again left alone with a wild griffiness.

I warily turned toward Hawkeye when I felt her eyes once again aimed at me.

“So, Mr. Sailor, heads or tails?” she asked, pulling out a coin.

I groaned in response.

A few hours later, I had a snoozing griffiness in my lap. Don’t ask why. I was planning on catching a few more z’s, but the moment I closed my eyes, Hawkeye took it upon herself to join me. I wouldn’t have minded overmuch, but there are instances where I don’t like being touched. In particular, I don’t enjoy being laid upon by dubious strangers of another species who also happened to have kidnapped me.

I looked down at the griffiness, who seemed awfully at ease. My heartstrings may have been tugged if the circumstances were less…this. This being the whole ‘me being abducted’ ordeal.

I wiggled my arms and legs, attempting to loosen the rope around them before my concentration was broken by another tintinnabulation of keys. When the door was unlocked, the maroon pony, Barney, and Tony stood outside. They were turned toward each other, speaking in hushed voices. I picked up a small amount of their conversation:

“Yeah, I got the message to ‘em, Boss Man. Just like you asked. They should be here in a day’s time to check out the quarry,” whispered Tony.

“Good, good,” said Barney in just as silent a tone, the first etchings of a smile I’ve ever seen weaving its way onto his face. “You’ve done an outstanding job, Tony. We shall await their arrival for the time being.” The maroon pony made to move into the room before Tony halted him with a hoof.

“Ahem,” said the blue pony with a sly grin.

Barney nodded his head. “Yes, you will get your bonus on top of the bits we should receive for such an exotic creature. It would have been a waste of time and energy to trek with him through the desert when you or Hawkeye could have simply flown to-,” he finally turned his head, peering into the room to see the fierce female lying on top of me, asleep. His eyes widened upon viewing the odd scene as Tony brushed past him, greeting the two of us.

“We’re back, everypo- oh!” exclaimed Tony as his jaw nearly hit the floor when he glanced at us. “What in the hay am I bearin’ witness to!?” shouted the blue pony, rousing the man-sized predator atop me.

Hawkeye gave an admittedly cute yawn before rubbing at one of her eyes.

“Ugh, keep it down, would you big guy? I’m trying to get some shut eye here,” she said as she gave me an agitated glare. When she saw that I was looking at something past her, she followed my gaze. When she spied her partners observing us she had a miniature freak out, squawking as she fell back, sharp limbs flailing this way and that and luckily not hitting my face before she found purchase with the cold stone floor.

Hawkeye scrambled to an upright position before smiling awkwardly at Tony and Barney, coughing into a claw and scratching at the back of her neck as she looked everywhere but them, a small blush coloring her visage.

“H-heya guys! You didn’t see any of that, did you?” she nervously asked. When she was met with stunned silence she clarified the situation. “Because if you did, then know that I was just uh… j-just making sure he wouldn’t try escaping! Yeah, that!”

An awkward silence settled within the room.

“I don’t think they buyin’ it,” I helpfully pointed out, a shit-eating grin on my face.

Hawkeye swiveled toward me so quickly that I thought she was going to give herself whiplash, her eyes wide with embarrassment before narrowing with annoyance.

“Shut up!” she quietly commanded as her cheeks practically glowed, socking me in the shoulder with an unnecessary amount of force.

“Ow! Bitch.”

“Female dogs have nothing to do with anything right now, so keep your trap shut!” she responded.

I mumbled angrily to myself as the ache in my shoulder lingered, wishing that I could have given her what-for and many more for her transgressions.

As I grumbled dark utterings about vengeance and comeuppance, Barney recovered from his initial shock, his expression turning neutral as Tony reeled his jaw back in.

“Hawkeye, we will have a discussion about guard duty etiquette when we are done with this transaction,” said the maroon pony as he leveled an unimpressed gaze in the direction of the griffiness in question.

Hawkeye responded appropriately, lowering her head somewhat as her blush lost some of its intensity.

“And you,” the pony pointed to me.

“Me?” I asked innocently.

“Yes, you,” answered Barney, even less impressed. “I still have a few questions for you.”

“Well, do I get to leave if I answer them correctly? Between you and I, though, I ain’t too good with pop quizzes.”

“Ha. Ha.” I like to think he was laughing on the inside. “Very funny, Mr. Wise Guy. No, you do not earn your freedom if you answer my questions.”

“Then why are we still talkin’?”I asked. “If there’s no reason for me to bother, then why would I give you any answers to anything?”

“Well, I could have Hawkeye here pry them out of you. For all of her affections, she is still more devoted to her paycheck than she is to keeping you out of harm’s way,” he said by way of reply.

I didn’t believe him, but I still looked warily at Hawkeye. What I saw, however, chilled me to the bone.

The griffiness was once again regarding me with that same emotionless mask she had the other day, when we had first argued. Her wings were half-way open, making her appear much larger, her talons caught the small amount of light available, drawing my attention to the deadly objects, and she stared into my eyes with intensity that was not joking or lecherous, but predatory. My instincts called for me to book it upon the sight of what could very easily end my life with but a swipe as I sat strapped to a chair with no means of defending myself. This, along with her sudden shift in attitude, nearly made me piss myself.

A bead of sweat rolled down my forehead, and it wasn’t because of the stuffiness of the room. I reminded myself that these were first and foremost my captors. These were thieves, criminals who sold flesh and disreputable services for cash. I had to get out of here before tomorrow came, before those ‘tradesmen’ arrived to evaluate me and possibly purchase me for Lord knows what.

“So,” began the maroon pony as he paced in front of me. “While we still have you in our hooves, we are allowed to do whatever we want to entertain ourselves and list it off as having found you in whatever condition should become of you if you refuse to comply.”

“You... Damn you!” I growled. “What gives you the right to-,” I was cut off when I felt a sharp talon press against the soft flesh of my throat.

“Creature, we have you bound to a chair in an undisclosed location with the necessary tools to make your life a living Tartarus. You lost your rights the moment you were dragged in here.”

I glared at the bastard, but chose not to immediately tell him to remove the stick that was wedged so firmly in his ass when the talon pressed even more firmly against my jugular.

“Well! When you put it that way, how am I supposed to complain?” I asked as a million homicidal thoughts flashed in my mind, my heart once again warming as I tugged at the restraints in agitation. “So whaddya got to ask then, huh? Somethin’ about the weather? The world around us? The answer to life itself?”

“No. I’m here to ask about this.” He pulled one of my possessions out of somewhere I’m not going to even bother giving extended thought to.

“Hey! Gimme back my phone! I’ll make you regret it if anything happens to it!”

“What is this ‘phone’ you speak of? This odd object right here? Hmm,” he feigned thinking on my demand. “No. You will see the safe return of your phone when you answer what I have to ask. What is the primary function of this object?” he asked.

“Well you can shove it up your ass and it acts as a substitute vibrator. It’s a good gift to give to your girlfriend, or boyfriend. I don’t judge.”

The pony took the phone and smashed it into the ground.

I let loose an untamed cry of rage in response, pulling even harder against the bindings.

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you! Just you wait, when I get outta here I’ll tear out your goddamn throat, ya heard!?”

“All you have to do is answer my questions. Clearly this item is valuable to you; I wouldn’t want anything to happen to it if that is the case,” responded Barney, a small smile on his face.

“Put it down! Put down my phone! You bet’ not do anything more to it!” I shouted.

“Oh very well.” Barney then dropped my phone to the hard floor, an unnatural crack resonating within the confines of the little room we were all in. I looked down at the phone in shock. I could have maybe found a way to recharge it if this bastard hadn’t abused it in such a way.

I leveled a murderous gaze toward the maroon pony, him returning the stare with a much more neutral look. “If you will not tell us how to work this toy of yours, then I believe Hawkeye can force the information out of you. We could possibly sell this trinket for a sizable amount of bits if we were to find out how to use it.”

Barney turned to Hawkeye, whose dagger-hands hadn’t let up against my throat. “Hawkeye, ensure that he speaks. Any damage that becomes of him will be explained as him being in that state when we found him and took him in. I will leave this machine here so that you may test whether or not he is being truthful.”

For some reason, Tony looked deeply uncomfortable when Bitch Pony turned to him, looking from Hawkeye to me in anxiety.

“Come, Tony. Let us leave Hawkeye to her task,” said Barney.

“I-I dunno, Boss Man. Y’know she gets a bit…zealous when you promise her more bits. We may not have anything to trade but meat and broken tech if ya let her go about this unrestricted,” responded Tony as he glanced back at us.

“Heh. She’ll keep him alive, that I can guarantee. We all know creatures as exotic as this sell for quite a bit. Especially ones as unique as he is. She’ll restrain herself. Now come along,” he commanded as he led the blue pony to the door before pulling out a set of keys and unlocking it. I idly wondered why they would make doors that locked from both sides before a voice pulled me back into the present situation.

“Hawkeye! We are going to leave the two of you alone for a moment. Don’t make a mess, you and I both know that flesh is most valuable when it’s whole,” called Barney as he stepped outside along with Tony.

Hawkeye nodded to him in acknowledgement as he closed and locked the door.

“Well. Looks like it’s just you and me,” she said as she had once before, only this time it sounded much more dangerous.

I couldn’t help but gulp in trepidation, my stupidity and pride once again getting the better of me and making matters worse.

I couldn’t help but think to myself at that moment in time: ‘When am I going to learn?’

Say Uncle!

So there we sat, both glaring deeply into one another’s eyes, the defiant brown of my own never leaving the fearsome orange of Hawkeye’s. We sat like this for a time untold before a question shattered the tense silence that had built up between us.

“So, you aimin’ to kill me?” I challenged as I struggled to put some room between my neck and her talons. “Or is you lookin’ to make out?”

A cheeky grin worked its way onto my face despite the circumstances before being promptly knocked into oblivion when a fist collided with it.

I let out a pained grunt before the talon pressed even tighter against my throat, causing blood to spill from my punctured flesh and down my neck. She moved her head closer to me, her fiery eyes still never leaving mine as her small beak nearly poked me in the nose.

“As tempting as an offer that is-,” she said before she was interrupted.

“Which one?”

“Both,” she responded. “But! I have to keep you alive, and as much as you may want this fantasy of yours to come alive-,” I let out a small laugh at that. “-we unfortunately won’t be spending a pleasant evening together,” she declared before moving far enough back that our breaths didn’t mix.

“It’s near nighttime, girl,” I responded, feeling the presence of the bright star from the forest lingering in the sky. “Not only that, but what exactly do you plan to do with me that won’t be pleasant?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’ve already made it seem as though I interrogated you enough. The phone isn’t much of a loss anyway, because I’ll get paid regardless. Just because I enjoy getting more bits doesn’t mean I actually like to make others suffer more than necessary for it. You can consider this a gesture of good will from me to you,” said Hawkeye as she finally eased her talons away from my neck.

“’Gesture of good will’? Gesture of good will! And what a gesture that is, my feathery little friend! So you ain’t gonna torture me, fan-fuckin’-tastic. Makes me feel as though I’m in your debt or somethin’!” I angrily retorted.

“You are.”

“Bitch, you abducted me, strapped me to a chair, force fed me in the most humiliating way possible, almost raped me, caused me bodily harm, and now you got the gall to say that I owe you!? Fuck outta here!”

Hawkeye’s emotionless mask was shattered upon my listing of her crimes against me, adopting an expression of true shock – even a bit of regret – as my words embedded themselves within her conscience.

“You gotta make a decision, Hawkeye, and you gotta do it right now. Are you gonna be forever my foe for the sake o’ cash? Or are you gonna redeem a small part of yourself by allowing me to go free?” I asked, leaning forward to regard her with a grave expression.

The griffiness for once seemed genuinely conflicted, sputtering and looking this way and that. Her usual calm, playful demeanor was fractured in the wake of a choice that seemed to actually bring her pause. Funny how she was so worked up over me. I almost considered that to be flattering in a way.

My lips curled into a cruel smile upon seeing her reduced to a blubbering mess, my heart glowing all the brighter as vitality flowed through my veins and the first echoes of the mad laughter once again reverberated in my skull. I began tugging at the ropes, loosening them up once more before a voice cut through my concentration.

“No.”

I looked up, taken aback and inflamed. “No? The fuck do you mean ‘no’!?” I agitatedly shouted.

Hawkeye unbuckled the pack that was strapped to her thigh, reaching in to pull out yet another one of those accursed pills. “I mean I’d rather make an enemy I’ll never be harmed by than a friend that isn’t useful.”

With that she tossed the pill in my direction. I watched it float through the air toward my face as though it were all in slow motion. When the damnable object finally made contact with my head, my world was lost to smoke and a claustrophobic darkness that followed...

Now, now. I do not know how it is that you got yourself into this situation, but it is about time you woke up. I still have a great need for your services, and you did agree to our little deal, did you not? Besides, you are my only shot at freedom, and you being turned into anyone’s slave but my own would bring that to a grinding halt. Here~. A gift from me to you…

I was awoken when I felt the gentle pull of the sun on my mind, a veritable cocktail of thoughts and emotions swimming about in my head with no sense of organization or direction. I felt adrift, as though I were being carried aloft by naught but the currents of my synapses.

I felt cold once again, the same way I had when that blue pegasus had forced that vile liquid down my throat to bring me back to the world of the living. However, the moment I caught my breath and searched the immediate area, I realized I was alone for once. I couldn’t allow this opportunity to be wasted.

Suddenly, my heart started glowing once again. My thoughts reorganized themselves and at the forefront were all the terrible experiences that I had suffered through upon being tossed like trash into this land. I remembered my run-in with Mufasa, how Four-Eyes had thrown me from a large tree, the deal with the spirit, my phone’s battery cutting out in the middle of the desert, my kidnapping, and my inability to even reconnect with my old world after having my phone smashed before my very eyes.

Upon recollection, I felt myself grounded more and more in this new reality. Not only that, but I felt angrier than ever. The warm feeling of my heart spread throughout my body, warming my insides of the chilling cold that plagued me.

It was with renewed conviction that I focused all of my effort on breaking loose from my restraints. I pulled and tugged as much as I could, the sudden surge of power allowing me to pull the rope far enough from my wrists to give me room to wiggle them out from under the bonds. I then turned my attention to the rope around my ankles, moving to untie myself there as well.

When my legs were finally free I stood, only to immediately fall to my hands and knees when it became abundantly clear to me that they had fallen asleep. That was not the end of it either. I felt a dizziness well within my head, presumably an after effect of those damned pills Hawkeye used. I felt like I needed to throw up, but fortunately nothing became of my feeling of sickness. I stretched my legs out a bit, reaching to touch my toes and all that jazz along with wiggling them around until my blood once again flowed down into the extremities.

I carefully moved back to my feet once again, cautiously stepping once, then twice to ensure I wouldn’t get any cramps or anything. I glanced down at my wrists when I felt a stinging sensation around them, only to realize that, under the light, my skin was pink and irritated from me rubbing up against the rope so much. The hair was still mostly there, but the flesh was definitely sensitive.

Looking up from my burnt wrists, I scanned the room for my possessions. A swift search brought up nothing, however, as the room had been cleared out. That included my sack of coins, my broken iPhone, and my water canteens. Fuck. Something told me I’d need those back soon.

Despite the fact that I was still pretty angry at having my phone recently broken along with Hawkeye’s decision to stay loyal to her crew, I still had enough of my wits about me to hear steps echoing through the halls. I caught my breath as the steps stopped right outside my room, a jangling of keys coming shortly after. Pressing myself firmly against the wall, my muscles were taut and I was ready to spring upon whomever stepped through the door…

...And then I realized that whoever was out there was trying to get into a room right outside my own.

Still playing it safe, I moved back towards the center of the room under the dim light that hanged from the ceiling, picking up the wobbly chair and bringing it back with me over to the door. I was still feeling slightly nauseous, my gaze spinning, creating immaterial replicas of the few objects I could see in the dark room. It would pass, I told myself. I only needed to get out of here while I still had the chance.

I flattened myself against the wall once again as I heard the door across the way lock, holding the chair in both my hands as I uttered a small promise.

“I’m gettin’ outta here,” I whispered, a gentle frown upon my face. “I don’t care how many o’ y’all mothafuckas I gotta go through accomplish that.”

And with those silent words that I waited with bated breath as the steps moved to the room I was trapped within, the keys ajangling once more as they were placed into the lock.

‘All or nothin’ now,’ I thought to myself.

When the door was unlocked, the handle turned, the creature on the other side pushing it open. After the door’s opening, a beak poked its way into the room, followed by a feathered head.

The rest of the griffiness made its way inside the dimly lit room soon after, eyes settled on the spot where I was once bound underneath the low-hanging light. I couldn’t get a good look at her face from where I stood as she idiotically walked further in as opposed to turning back – I imagine she was quite horrified to see that I had gotten free while she had gone – but I decided to use her faux pas to my advantage.

I pushed the door ajar as slowly as I could, making sure not to close it to ensure the griffiness wouldn’t hear anything, as well as to provide me with a means of escape after I was done here. Unfortunately for me, griffins must have great hearing, because the moment I pushed on the door, her ears perked up as she turned toward the source of the noise.

Before she could completely turn towards me, I took two large steps toward her as I brought the chair above my head, sending it crashing into the back of her body. The brittle chair shattered upon impact, splintering this way and that sans the chair legs.

The griffiness let out a shriek as I slammed the chair down on her, seemingly shrugging off the attack as she spun around and slashed her talons along my exposed ribs in response. I howled as blood spilled from my flesh. The cut shredded my skin to the white meat beneath, but luckily nothing important was hit. I wildly swung one of the chair legs at Hawkeye, the griffiness easily predicting the attack as she dodged beneath it and used her wings and powerful legs to tackle me to the ground.

The wound I received stung, and the moment the back of my head hit the ground my dizziness skyrocketed. I was brought back down to earth when a fist collided with my left cheek. Dropping one of the chair legs, I moved an arm to the front of my face in an effort to protect myself from more blows to the head.

While my arm absorbed a few more wild blows from the enraged griffiness atop me, I moved the arm that still held the chair leg in preparation to strike Hawkeye in the back of the head. She noticed the movement though, grabbing my arm as it raised and slamming it back into the ground. I shouted in pain as her claws dug into my skin, releasing the weapon while simultaneously pulling back my free hand to retaliate.

Hawkeye was hit with an unexpected haymaker, my fist connecting with the side of her head. Not nearly enough power was put into the punch to throw her off of me or to knock her out, but at least I had some room to maneuver my arms now. I grabbed at her neck to keep her from poking my eyes out with that beak of hers, scooting backwards across the floor in an effort to get my legs from under her body. She responded by attempting to claw at my face, instead shredding one of my arms when I covered myself with my free extremity.

She had to continue moving forward as I scooted away, me using this to my advantage while she paused to look for an opening by pulling my legs from underneath her completely and pressing them to her chest. I pushed Hawkeye off of me with my lower body, the feathery fiend sliding across the stone of the ground. Moving to my feet, I jolted when the cut she made across my ribcage made its presence once again known. I may have been running purely on adrenaline by this point, but some things are hard for a drugged body to shrug off, I suppose.

“Well,” said Hawkeye, licking off the blood on her talons as she slowly circled me. “Good morning to you, too.” She spat that sentence out with as much venom as a cobra, her avian eyes never leaving me.

“Shut up,” I said tiredly, circling the dangerous bird as well. I moved back subtly in hopes to bring us closer to the light since I could see naught but Hawkeye’s orange eyes and her outline in the darkness. She didn’t seem to have as much trouble as I, though, paying attention to every move I made.

As we drew nearer the light, my visibility increased, but not by much. I was still suffering from the combined forces of my new headache caused by Hawkeye tackling me as well as the side effects of that pill she had thrown into my face earlier.

“How are you awake?” she asked, settling into a pouncing stance as her wings extended to their intimidating span at her sides. “That pill should have kept you unconscious for at least another three hours.”

“It’s just cuz I’m that special,” I responded. “Now enough talk. Let’s get this over with.”

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed dangerously as she prepared to charge. “Your wish is my command!” she said as she sprinted forward.

I moved forward just as quickly to meet her assault head on despite my shakiness, throwing a forward kick that she sidestepped before shallowly raking her talons across my fresh wound. Once again I cried out, the griffiness not giving me a breather this time around as she spun around and kicked me in the stomach.

I stumbled in flow with her attack as I grasped at my wound. Looking back up, I had just enough time to duck beneath a horizontal swipe of Hawkeye’s knife-like talons, pulling back up with an uppercut that made contact with the underside of her hard beak. The blow clearly caught her off-guard as a pained growl escaped her as she grabbed at her face.

I felt something warm, presumably blood, running down my knuckles after my fist scraped the sharp point at the end of Hawkeye’s dangerous feature. Ignoring the pain I had caused myself, I followed up with a roundhouse kick that sent the bird-lion sprawling to her belly.
I dashed over to the prone form of the griffiness, nearly tumbling over my own two feet as my head swam, falling down to my knees as I grabbed the back of her head. Hawkeye screeched and flailed about before I grabbed one of her wings and pressed it down beneath one of my knees, applying a great amount of pressure which caused her to go taut.

Immediately she ceased resisting, producing no sounds and moving nothing as she gasped and held her breath. As I pressed more of my weight into her extremity, she whimpered.

Upon hearing that sound, my glowing heart’s luminescence intensified, casting an eerie red light over Hawkeye’s pained face like a dull lantern. I drank in her features at that moment, my grim scowl giving way to a brutish smile upon seeing her eyes wide in terror and her beak agape in a soundless scream. Seeing that expression on her face made everything feel right. After all of her antagonism over the past few days, after all of her transgressions against me, I could finally sit back and delight in her trembling.

The glow from my heart spread throughout the rest of my body, seemingly closing off the deepest wounds I had accrued during the tussle while making the lighter scratches nigh nonexistent. Despite this, it didn’t eliminate any of the pain, nor did it return any lost blood. The glow did, however, seem to eliminate my feelings of nausea and wooziness as well as heal my cuts.

“Damn,” I said. “Winning feels good.”

I put more weight into the wing of the poor birdie before another pained grunt escaped her.

“Heheh. You sound like a damn rubber duck when you squeak, y’know that?”

“S-stop. Please…” she begged, her voice strained.

“What was that? Mind speakin’ up, cuz I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me breakin’ your wing!”

“NO!” she shouted with much more strength despite not being able to move her body. “N-not that! Anything but that!”

“Well ain’t you a bucket o’ fun?”

“I’ll tell you anything! Anything you wanna know, I’ll answer it! Just spare my wing!”

I hummed. It was an unfair offer, but hey, it was unfair in my favor. “Well in that case, riddle me this: If I were to leave this room, where would I find my stuff?”

“J-just across the hall! You’ll need my keys, though, if you want to get into the room. I dropped them somewhere in here when you attacked me.”

“A’ight. Now on to question number two: Where is the nearest exit?”

Hawkeye responded through gritted teeth. “On the other side of the building. You’ll need to go up to the first floor and past the conference room. When you get through there, you walk out of the lobby and you’re home free.”

“Conference area? Lobby? What is this, an office?” I asked, brow raised.

“Yes. I mean no! This place used to be a manufacturing plant for the Equestrians when they built weapons for the locals. It was closed down when the princesses decided that it was a waste of resources to produce so many for such small settlements, though.”

I would’ve asked why they were producing the weapons in the first place, but I honestly didn’t care.

“Interesting. Now on to my final question, and this is the one that really matters: Why did you try to rape me?” I asked as I put just a tiny bit more pressure into her wing.

The griffiness screeched weakly before moving to respond. “I-I didn’t mean it! It was just a spur of the moment decision. I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was too late!”

“Really?” I asked, honestly unimpressed by her explanation.

“Really! That, and because you’re such a unique creature! When Barney and Tony said you were one of a kind, I wanted to see for myself how unique you were! Well, there’s that and, um, the fact that I’m kinda into bondage,” I noticed she was blushing slightly after her confession.

“So seein’ someone tied up makes you want to jump their bones? Hmph. It’s better than nothin’, I guess.”

“S-so can you let me go now?”

I thought on it for a moment, slightly lifting myself off of her wing. “Nope.”

Hawkeye’s eyes widened even further at my answer. “Why not! I’ve told you everything you need to know!”

“While that may be true, you still owe me much more than a few explanations after what you’ve done to me. I thank you for your help, but I know the first thing you’re gonna do is rat me out an’ chase me down if I let you go right now. So it’s with that in mind...” I increased the pressure until I heard a few faint pops. Hawkeye screamed in agony as I pressed further and further into her sensitive extremity, breaking her fragile bones. “…that I gotta say no!” I put all of my weight into her wing, a snap and a louder shriek being my reward.

I then grabbed her by the head and slugged her across the face, knocking her unconscious.

I fell back on my ass after a couple of minutes, looking over Hawkeye’s body as I realized what I had just done. I just reduced a creature to a mess, and when she pleaded with me to spare her, I reveled in her agony.

And it. Felt. Good. Not so much in the sexual sense – I didn’t get off on it or anything – so much as the mental sense. Just…that feeling of power, of dominance over another filled me with childlike glee. I could completely understand what Hawkeye was saying earlier.

Honestly, though, I was conflicted with my feelings of appallment at my lack of mercy while simultaneously feeling strangely satisfied with my cruelty.

I shook those thoughts out of my mind before moving to search Hawkeye, checking the pack on her thigh to find it empty. So that's why she didn’t just pull another one of those pills out and toss it into my face. Upon finding that she had nothing of value on her person, I moved on to looking for the keys she dropped during our fight, stumbling around a bit in the dimness before something caught the reflection of the light. Turning my eyes over to the glimmering object, I walked over to find the keys I was looking for.

A smile made its way to my face in spite of my morality crisis before being swiftly removed as my ribs once again began aching, the pain still not gone. Now feeling the effects of my blood loss, I fell to one knee, propping myself up on one arm as I waited for the awful feeling to dull. A few minutes later, the pain had returned to a manageable level and I rose again to my feet, still slightly hunched over.

“You know what?” I asked to no one in particular. “That bitch deserved it after all.”

With those parting words, I opened up the door, being mindful to step over the tattered remains of the old chair, leaving behind the snoozing griffiness and stepping out of the dark room.

I could only hope there weren’t any more criminals than the two ponies Hawkeye was buddy-buddy with, but considering my luck so far there’d be an entire team of them. Ugh. Why can’t I just have a calm, boring day for once?

Author's Notes:

Longest chapter to date. Next time I'll just split it into two to update this story more quickly.

Sorry if the fight seems a bit lackluster, I wasn't as inspired about it as I had first thought I would be. As always, though, thank you guys for reading. Peace out.

Behind Closed Doors

A turn of the key gave me access to what looked to be a storage closet. I wouldn’t have been able to tell what exactly lied within due to the fact that each of the few doors down the poorly lit hallway were paling with age and had no tags on them to make them discernable from one another, though.

“Open sesame,” I said as I pushed the door open.

As I stepped into the closet, there were boxes upon boxes of mechanical parts and various other objects that were useless to me. I turned on the weak light in the room before moving further in.

Lifting the lid of one of the more worn looking boxes, I shouted in fright at what lied within. Inside the box rested a hideous spider, about the size of a size ten shoe, and all the more terrifying for it. It looked as pissed off as a bull ready to charge as all eight of its horrifying eyes turned up to me in annoyance.

“Oh shit!” I screamed in a manner most dignified.

The spider actually hissed at me before I shut the box closed, searching around the room in panic for my possessions. I didn’t want an eight-legged eldritch monster the size of a Chihuahua jumping on me, after all.

Luckily I didn’t have to go further back into the closet where there were more cobwebs gathered around the equipment as I found my stuff lined up neatly in one of the shelves that lined the wall to my left. The shelf that held what little I owned was about waist height, so I crouched down to snatch everything up, including my phone, my water canteens, and even my bag of quarters. I decided at that moment that I’d hit up the first arcade I saw when I escaped.

I noticed I was missing something, though, as I still needed the red stone the monkeys gave to me. A quick pat down revealed that the object was actually in the pocket of my jeans. Sighing in relief, I reached into the bag out of curiosity before pulling out a…quarter? Only this quarter was unlike any coin I’d ever seen. It was golden in color, and upon making this observation I looked down into the bag to see that all of the quarters I had were golden!

Realizing that I hit a jackpot made my mouth water at the amount of money I could sell these for when I returned home. I’d never have to go hungry again!

My pleasant train of thought was derailed when another hiss emitted from the box along with a few large bumps. I hurriedly placed the coin back inside the bag and rewrapped it, tying it around one of the straps on my pants. I searched the room quickly for anything else of use when the glint of an object caught my eye in the dark room.

On the floor, I saw a dagger. I’m not too good at describing things, but I’ll say this: it was large, the tip curved backwards, and its surface shone like it was freshly polished. It appeared to be made of stainless steel of the highest quality, the teeth were serrated, and the handle was covered in some form of brown synthetic leather. The synthetic property of it made sense to me, I guess, what with ponies being herbivores last I checked. I had a hard time imagining a pony, even one from this world, eating and skinning other animals. I could have been proven wrong as I have many times before since I arrived here; this was a different world after all.

Back to the knife, though, it was beautiful. Masterful crafting, intimidating curves and ridges, and firm padding around the handle made this weapon quite appealing as I reached down to grab it before running out of the room and locking the door to ensure the dog-sized monstrosity still residing in the room wouldn’t be able to follow me out.

I held the weapon in my hand, getting a feel for it. I tossed it up in the air a few times, doing a few little flashy tricks with it until I missed it and it bounced off of the ground, leaving a nice little gash in the cement right next to my right boot. I blanched for a moment, grateful that my foot wasn’t just an inch to the left.

Reaching down to pick up the knife – which showed no sign of wear incidentally – I wondered where I should put it. Eventually I decided to place it between my belt and my pants, keeping it over my back pocket. I walked down the hall before a thought occurred to me: I never locked the door to the room I was imprisoned in.

I rushed back to the room containing Hawkeye before peeking inside. Surely enough, there lay a still-unconscious griffin resting on the cold, hard floor. I moved closer to Hawkeye as I realized she could have just jumped up and pursued me when she awoke, spotting the rope that was used to bind me. I quickly ran over and picked up the rope before attempting to tie the griffiness’s talons and paws together, doing a shoddy job. Like I said, I wasn’t no boy scout growing up, but I did double knot the bindings if that counts for anything.

I removed a golden coin from my pouch before placing it upright in front of the griffin, both sides showing, slowly backing away so as not to wake her from her uncomfortable rest.

A slight smile tugged at my lips as I slowly crept out of the room.

“Sleep tight, princess,” I whispered sweetly.

I locked the door after me to make sure the griffiness wouldn’t just waltz out when she awoke, whistling a nursery tune as I walked down the hall, twirling the keys around my index finger as I went along.

I followed Hawkeye’s directions, ending my whistling as I climbed the stairs to the first floor.

‘A’ight. That’s done, so I got two more places to pass before I’m outta here,’ I thought to myself as I mentally checked “Get to the first floor” off of my to-do list. Now all I had were “Get to the lobby” and “Home free!” on my list.

I slowly peeked around the corner of the stairs, looking for any sign of life. I cautiously stepped toward the end of the hall, approaching a door.

"What the hell kinda design is this?" I asked myself, honestly perplexed at the layout of this strange place.

When I opened the door I found it opened up to a large room filled with old assembly lines, vacant lunch tables, and hanging machinery. A few large windows allowed sunlight to pour into the room, dust particles floating throughout like algae in a shallow river. I coughed a few times, swatting at the air in front of me to clear the way for my sinuses to properly function without any of the dust there to clog them up. I looked around the abandoned room, searching for a way out as the stuffiness made me wholly uncomfortable. On the far end of the room, under a large railing, sat a door. I vaulted over a few of the assembly lines – each with various unfinished weapon parts – to reach the door, only to find it was blocked off as I pushed on it.

The place was clearly made for ponies, as it seemed to swing both ways with no handles. It made me wonder why the lower levels of this building had doors built with handles instead of being made the same way, to be honest.

I looked through the glass pane to see a massive amount of clutter lying on the other side of the door, keeping me from pushing through. I groaned as I looked around, once again taking notice of the railing. I backed away from the door to give it a once-over, quickly discovering that there was yet another door at the top. I thought there’d be an emergency exit somewhere around here, but everywhere I looked there were only concrete walls.

A ladder led up to the railing. A noticeable difference being that this ladder was simply like a steep flight of stairs. I quickly climbed this ladder before walking to the door that awaited me. This was another push-push door that read “Authorized ponies only”, and despite the slightly shorter height, I bent down only a bit to move my way through.

On the other side of the door was what I guessed was some kind of control room. The only thing that was worthy of my attention in the hot area being a flashing red light. Curious, I approached the light like a moth to a flame, the radiance coming from a red button that simply read “Start.”

Before I realized what I was doing, I unthinkingly moved my hand toward the red button.

When I finally got my bearings, I already had my finger firmly pressed on the button. A deafening beep signified the reanimation of the hibernating machinery, a veritable merry-go-round being what it looked like as the assembly line whirled back to life and slowly spun around. Loud scraping sounds emanated from the room as the buildup of rust was assaulted by the rotating wheels in the conveyor belts, and I quickly pressed the button once again in hopes of turning it off.

In hindsight, that wasn’t a good idea; it was actually quite moronic, as instead of stopping or slowing down, the machinery kicked into high gear and spun even faster. Now thoroughly panicking, I looked around the table that held all sorts of flips and switches, each flashing the same red light. Looking through the glass, I saw that all hell was beginning to break loose.

“The fuck is wrong with these ponies!?” I shouted, madly flipping each switch and making more of an ass of myself. “Why is every one of these buttons the same damn color!?”

The conveyor belt was running at an insane speed, the scraping sound nigh unbearable at this point in time, before it eventually wore down and began breaking. A few wheels shot out of the assembly line and into random directions, one even shattering the glass and nearly taking off my head with it. I started at that and decided that I liked having my head on my shoulders more than I cared about being subtle.

I sprinted to the other side of the room, hitting another door that seemed to be locked before pulling out my keys and seeing that there were probably a dozen different keys I’d have to try as the metallic screeching continued behind me. Eventually, I decided to simply punch through the glass pane and squeeze my way through, running down the hallway on the other side and abandoning the madness that persisted in my wake.

I was still making my way away from the scene as quickly as I could a few minutes later. My hand hurt like hell, but the adrenaline I was filled with after nearly getting a fatal haircut helped me ignore the pain. I powered through a few more doors before stopping to catch my breath. I found myself in another hallway, this one appearing to be an intersection.
I looked around as my panic bled away, now feeling like I had gotten far enough away from the control room of the manufacturing section of this building. My eyes rested upon a map that sat on one of the walls and I noticed that this place was huge. According to the map, the manufacturing plant I was inside was only one of four that this compound held.

“Why would anyone need a weapons manufacturing plant this large in the middle of the damn desert?” I breathed, shocked at the implications of what seemed to be a war factory.

“This place could supply World War Seven if the former owner put their mind to it. Why would anyone abandon a factory as big as this?”

I gazed at the point where I presumed I was. I say presumed because there was a giant star that read “You are here” in bold red letters. I noticed that the conference room was nearby. I just had to go down a couple of flights of stairs to make up for climbing that ladder back at the plant and take a left.

“A’ight. Gotta get through the conference area and I’ll find one the lobby. Sounds easy enough.”

I turned and began walking down one of the halls.

“But so does everything else at first…”

“One hundred bottles of beer on the wall, one hundred bottles of beer; take one down, pass it around, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall~,” I silently sang as I neared the so called conference room.

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer; take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall~.”

What can I say? I was rather bored walking around this giant facility and simply wanted to just leave, but I didn’t want to possibly draw any unneeded attention when I did go. As much as I loved the people I had met here so far, I didn’t need tears, cake, and sharp objects pointed at me for my going away party. No siree, I just wanted to keep everything on the down low if at all possible.

As I walked to the conference room, I placed my ear against the door to make sure no one else was in the room. After a few seconds of hearing nothing, I carefully pushed the door open to peek inside.

Luckily for me, when I actually stepped into the room I had guessed was empty, no one surprised me by beating the back of my head in with a blunt object. Believing that to be a good thing, I stopped to look around the conference room. There was a large oval-shaped mahogany table that took up a large portion of the room, surrounded by legless chairs made of more of that synthetic leather. My only thought about the low seats was that they were designed specifically with ponies in mind.

The rest of the room was quite bare in comparison, with only slightly better lighting, a few filing cabinets, and one storage closet with horizontal cuts in place of a pane that allowed those inside to look out, but were angled in such a way that it would be difficult for an outsider to look in. Yeah, I had a hard time wrapping my head around how that worked as well before just blaming it on this world’s many, many nuances compared to my own.

The door also had handles on it, which I found quite odd, considering this room seemed to be made expressly for ponies. I couldn’t help but think this was way too out of place in a room that showed such signs of opulence. Why wasn’t this room out in the hall or something? Why right in the conference room? I couldn’t help but feel this was placed here for some reason other than storing janitorial and office supplies.

I jumped over the table, which wasn’t as dusty as the rest of this place all considered, to get to the door on the other side of the room. As I reached out to push the door open, I heard distant voices on the other side.

“Yessiree, Boss Man. Hawkeye’s been sent down to pick up the loud-mouthed critter. She shoulda been back by now, though. Wonderin’ what’s goin’ on down there, in all truth.”

“Ensure that she gets back this instant. We have ponies that I very much want to impress and a paycheck that I don’t want destroyed by either Hawkeye’s mischief or the brown creature’s churlishness. Also, from the central maintenance hub, I could see that for whatever reason the power’s been draining for the past thirty minutes. We need as much light as possible if we’re to make a good impression, so go and see what that crazy griffin is doing.”

“Alrighty! Be back in a sec, Boss Man!”

Oh crap! It was Tony and Barney, and from the sounds of it they were headed right to the conference room!

Backing away from the door as the hoofsteps on the other side grew louder and louder, I couldn’t help but take notice of the storage closet yet again. I leapt over the table again and ran over to the closet, twisting the handle and pulling myself inside in the nick of time. Right as I shut the door, the blue pony pushed his way through the entrance and walked around the table to leave the room, soon followed by the Fearsome Threesome’s ringleader, Barney.

I narrowed my eyes upon the entrance of the maroon pony, clenching my fists as I remembered that I still owed him a broken jaw for my broken phone. He was a businessman apparently, so he knew that in the business world everything evens out one way or another due to some equalizing force. I was going to be that equalizing force. Not at that moment, but eventually.

My breath caught in the middle of my festering anger when I saw Barney’s eyes trained directly at me. They were as cold and calculating as ever, and I could just see the cogs spinning in his head as I stared back in shock. As he advanced towards the storage closet, I involuntarily took a few steps back as quietly as I could to keep the distance between us as far as possible.

‘I could take him. I can crush him right now,’ I thought to myself, my thoughts betraying a completely different message than my body as I broke into a cold sweat the moment I once again felt the lingering pain from my fight with Hawkeye compounded by my hunger and lack of hydration.

I put a hand over my mouth to prevent any noise from escaping when I grunted in pain as the ache of my ribs returned with a vengeance. I was in no condition to fight. I nearly got my ass handed to me on a silver platter by Hawkeye, so how was I supposed to deal with Barney here if he decided to open that door?

“Christ,” I whispered, grasping at the spot that Hawkeye had earlier reduced to mince meat when another jolt of pain shot through the area.

The clippity-clop of hooves stopped just outside my door as I realized something:

This situation wouldn’t end with a happily ever after either way.

Tabletop Tantrums

As the clops of hooves neared the closet, I slowly drew my knife. I said a small prayer as my grasp tightened around the hilt of the weapon when the pony on the other side stopped right outside the door.

There was a long pause; I stood there, holding my breath as best as I could with a million thoughts running through my mind as I waited for Barney to open the door, and the maroon pony on the other side simply sat there in front of the closet. It was at that moment that I realized I hadn’t properly shut the door. I blanched at my blatant stupidity, now sure that the pony on the other side knew something was amiss.

I heard a small chuckle as Barney pushed the door completely closed.

“Well, isn’t that curious,” he said. I could just hear the smile on his face, and at that moment I could tell he was toying with me.

His behavior made me want to slam the door into his smug nose and run off, but before I could make any move to do that, I heard the mixing of a few other voices in the hall leading to the room.

‘Great. More company,’ I thought, my scowl dipping deeper at the thought of having to listen to more of Barney’s confidants.

I placed my knife back behind by belt as Barney turned toward the sources of the noise as they grew louder the closer they got to the conference room. There were more pony clops before they slowed and the voices abruptly hushed at the sound of one’s command. I breathed a little easier now that Barney wasn’t paying attention to my ingenious hiding spot as both the pony and I awaited the grand entrance of whatever hardened thugs were preparing themselves behind the door.

I heard the muffled sound of a question and two responses, along with the shifting of what sounded like armor before the door was pushed open. A pony guard wearing a dark red garb and a golden faceless helmet with holes etched into it that allowed his ears to poke out of the sides with segmented plates that ran down the back of his neck stepped into the room.

He, along with the other guard dressed in the exact same uniform, wore a short silk cape that covered one of his shoulders and was held to the armor beneath the cloth by a clasp that was also golden. Both guards had curved swords – scimitars I’d guess – sheathed underneath their capes. Looking down, I noticed that they also wore shoes that were, you guessed it, golden. The shoes ran up the fetlocks of the guards and I could see with my amazing twenty-twenty vision that, etched along the front of the pony-boots, were elaborate engravings of phoenixes carved into them.

Both ponies were a tannish color, with long, slender necks that resembled that of swans more than the shorter, more muscular necks of the ponies that I had seen thus far and they stood on slimmer, longer legs as well. The difference in appearance, along with the flashy get-ups, told me that these ponies weren’t natives.

One of the guards held open the door for a taller, more ornately dressed pony to step into the room. He was of a slightly darker shade of tan than the other two ponies, and he donned the same red garbs as the other ponies, only his was a lighter shade of crimson and had ritzy designs stitched into the cloth and the golden chestpiece beneath was much sleeker and seemed less weighty. His boots were of the same design as his armor, being less bulky and more elegant, with a phoenix also being incised into them.

Unlike the other two, however, he wore a tightly wrapped black turban with a red gem at the center pinning a terracotta red feather to the cloth as it proudly extended upright. Along with this, he also wore pointed black shoulder pads that connected to an even longer cape that ran down to his tail. The cape was held by two clasps that ran over the shoulder pads, and it was blood-red in color.

On to other differences in appearance, I could make out an even larger scimitar strapped to the pony’s hip. The handle had a guard that protected the user’s extremities from slashes during combat. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this guy was compensating for something. That, and I wondered why a pony would need a guard for a sword. Didn’t ponies use their mouths for these sorts of things? I couldn’t imagine seeing one properly wielding a weapon in their hooves, let alone using one to its full extent in combat.

As I paid more attention to his face, I noticed that he was sporting a goatee. As confusing as it was for me to behold an equine with facial hair, I pushed the observation to the back of my mind as I noticed that he had a small scar on his upper right cheek, right beneath the eye. This was the only imperfection I could see on the pony’s face.

The swan-necked pony, who looked like a villain that walked straight out of a Disney universe, strutted into the dusty room like he owned the place. Jafar – as I took to calling him for now – had his nose pointed high as he trotted into the room, the pony flanked by the second guard who moved to sheathe his scimitar as he walked into the room after the tall pony.

Jafar may have kept an uptight appearance, but I could see his yellow eyes carefully scanning the entirety of the room as the guards took up position on either side of the conference room’s entrance, staring attentively ahead.

Barney moved to greet the slender pony when he saw Jafar trot inside.

“Welcome to La Fuerte Express, Bolukbasi Sarif, emissary of Saddle Arabia,” greeted Barney as he extended a hoof. “Or at least one of them. Please pardon the lack of imagination that went into the name of this plant; the locals aren’t exactly known for their creativity.”

Jafar, or rather Sarif, turned to Barney as though he had only just then seen him. He extended his hoof to the smaller pony to complete the handshake. I’m sorry, still thinking normally in this bizarre world. I meant to say hoofshake. And seriously, Saddle Arabia? The longer I stayed in this world, the more I wanted to put a bullet through my head. I’m fairly certain I had to get in line, though, what with how many times others have tried killing me. I find that sad.

The bolukbasi gently wiped his hoof off on his garb after they broke the gesture, moving to speak. “Charmed. I apologize for forgetting your name?” he spoke in a deep tone that brimmed with authority and elegance that matched his uniform. Though he had an excellent command of the English language despite being from another country entirely, he still had an accent; luckily, though, it wasn’t so thick as to make what he said difficult to understand. He paused as he waited for the maroon pony to introduce himself.

“My name is Bare Yield, though my friends colloquially refer to me as Barney,” answered the shorter of the two.

Sarif nodded before continuing. “Unfortunately, the young representative of our great nation could not make it. I do hope that is not too large of an inconvenience,” said Sarif as he inspected Barney.

“It is perfectly fine, Bolukbasi. Please, sit,” responded Barney as he gestured to one of the nearest seats.

The captain sat himself down where the maroon pony indicated and attempted to make himself comfortable as Barney moved to the other side of the oval-shaped table to take a seat across from him.

“May I ask why you are here when you are the head of Prince Yahguul’s security detail in foreign lands, Bolukbasi?” queried Barney as he set his hooves on the low table. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Sarif seemed a little uncomfortable in the chairs that seemed too small for someone of his stature, though he took his discomfort in stride, keeping a regal posture as he turned to look at the maroon pony. “No, I do not mind giving you an explanation. We were a bit later than we had originally agreed to, after all,” responded Sarif. “Although Prince Yahguul is meant to be our official emissary, he often sends me to do tasks of this sort. When he visits these lands, he is infamous for either pushing the small amount of work required of him onto his subordinates or frequenting the brothels of the lands he finds himself in. Quite the hedonistic procrastinator, he can be,” he said as a disdainful expression made its way to his otherwise stoic face. “He does have at least two armed guards around him at all times when I am not near, so I fear him drinking himself into a comatose state more than I do him being targeted by some assassin.”

“Yes, I’ve heard quite a bit about Queen Alimada’s youngest son’s…exploits during his endeavors into other lands. Now, on to the transacti-,” said Barney before he was interrupted by Sarif’s held up hoof.

“Before we move on I have a question to pose. Do you smell an odor permeating throughout this room? What does this stench belong to, for it is assaulting my senses,” said Sarif as he put his hoof back down.

I silently cursed as the captain began sniffing the air, acutely aware of the amazing sense of smell ponies had. It certainly didn’t help that I hadn’t bathed in days.

I backed away from the door slightly, keeping my eyes on Barney and the guards as they, too, replicated Sarif’s actions.

Surprisingly, Barney answered. “It may be the stench of rodents or of rotting wood. This building has been long abandoned, after all, so you can’t expect it to be well-maintained.”

Sarif stroked his goatee as he continued sniffing the air. “What you say holds weight. My apologies for the interruption; what is it you were going to say?”

“The transaction,” Barney answered simply.

“Ah, yes. Thank you for reminding me of that. Now, where is this creature you intend to sell to us?” asked the tannish pony.

“I must respectfully ask where the payment is before answering any further inquiries,” responded Barney.

“But of course.”

With a wave of the hoof, Sarif motioned for one of the guards to approach. The guard reached under his cloak before pulling out one, two, three sacks that I presume were chock full of those golden quarters. For the first time since the meeting had started, I saw Barney’s emotionless mask shatter as his eyes widened upon viewing the bags. I gotta admit that the sight made my mouth water, so I could empathize with how he felt. The only bad thing about this was that it was being used to purchase me; I can guarantee that no amount of money in the world would be enough for me to give up my freedom willingly.

Sarif allowed himself a small smile when he saw Barney’s shock.

“May I?” asked Barney.

Sarif nodded and Barney moved to lift one of the bags, weighing it in his hoof before opening the bag and putting his hoof inside to retrieve one of the quarters. Barney looked at how the light reflected off of the coin as he closely inspected them before bringing it to his mouth and biting into it to see if it would bend. He seemed pleasantly surprised at this development as he tossed the gold piece back into the bag and moved it closer to the center of the table to show he wasn’t doing anything more suspicious than this get together already was.

When I stopped salivating at the sight of the gold, I couldn’t help but think to myself how seedy this entire situation was. Apparently the ambassadors of another nation were buying rare creatures from other countries when they docked. I couldn’t help but wonder why. All that I knew for sure was that I wasn’t going to be added to their list of slaves.

“It’s genuine alright…” muttered Barney.

“I take it that this is to your liking Mr. Yield?” asked Sarif, small smile still on his face.

“How much is this?” responded Barney, casting a suspicious glance over to the captain.

“Oh, only about three thousand seven hundred bits.”

Barney’s eyes once again widened, his mouth slightly parting as he was caught completely off guard by the revelation.

Stroking his goatee, Sarif clarified: “Take this as an additional apology for our tardiness. I understand that the original deal was five hundred bits less, but I simply had to make up for my lack of punctuality since I pride myself on timeliness. Still, if this creature is as unique as you say he is, I can say with all certainty that Prince Yahguul will not mind the small dip in his finances. I doubt he will even notice anything as small as five hundred bits disappearing.”

A cautious glance was aimed at the captain by Barney despite his excitement.

“Is there any reason you’re dipping your hooves into your Prince’s cookie jar anyway?”

A smile was given to Barney in response to his question. “I have already told you my reasons for the additional sum. It was to make up for me losing track of time. That, and I do not care overmuch for our esteemed representative,” the last part was whispered, but the venom on the captain’s tone spoke volumes about his thoughts of the young Yahguul. “Bandits of your ilk tend to be too distracted by greater rewards for their dishonest services; why is it that you are so curious to know such things?” asked Sarif as he leaned over the short table.

“No reason,” responded Barney quickly. Almost too quickly. “I simply was ensuring no repercussions would fall on us if it were to be made known to your superior that you had given away more than agreed upon.” A smooth mofo, this guy was. I was surprised he dodged that bullet.

“There will be no repercussions on your end, Mr. Yield. All blame will be held by I and I alone,” replied Sarif, leaning back carefully into his seat. He seemed way too confident about not losing his job after such an offense, if you asked me. Just what was his relationship with this Yahguul? What was his relationship with Queen Whatsherface? These questions flooded my mind before Sarif interrupted my train of thought.

“Would it be rude of me to ask what I can expect of this ‘exotic’ creature you have told me about?” inquired Sarif.

“Not at all. Though I did not care enough to catch his name, you will know the creature when you see him,” answered Barney before he was cut off by yet another question.

“How is it that you came to know this creature is male?”

“He has a masculine voice, is how I came to the conclusion that he is not a female. He looks a bit strange, almost like a minotaur, but hairless everywhere except on the topmost part of his head, his face, and his chest. He’s even bipedal, which is a bit of an anomaly around here. He truly looks like an alien despite his similarities, though. His skin is brown, he has a small, almost nonexistent muzzle aside from something of a bump that he breathes out of, and his eyes that are just as small. He also has a fair bit of muscle from what I’ve seen, so I can assume that he won’t be useless wherever you place him,” said Barney before contemplating and letting out an exclamation as he remembered one last detail.

“Oh! And let’s not forget that he wears clothes. I’m not sure why, as from what I’ve seen he has little by way of intelligence,” I wanted to punch him in the face so badly when I heard that part, “but he seems to cover his genitalia along with everything else, sans his face, with material.”

The captain drank in every detail, listening intently to every word. He went back to stroking his goatee as he spoke, staring off into a corner of the room before looking back to Barney.

“Interesting. Very interesting indeed. I’ve been from Genoosa to Caliheigh, crossed the Twilight Sea and trekked through Draghdad; yet despite all of my interactions and ‘deals’, I’ve never quite heard of a creature such as the one you describe. Nor have I read about any with such an appearance. Alien indeed,” he said as he allowed an enlivened sigh to escape from his lips.

“Now, just where is this creature so that I may gaze upon him and be done with this deal?” asked Sarif in a creepily enthusiastic tone.

Before Barney could answer, in burst Tony, a barely conscious Hawkeye on his back.

“Alert! Alert! We got a problem, Boss Man!” exclaimed the vested blue pony.

“What is the meaning of this!?” shouted a surprised Sarif as he and his guards unsheathed their swords and pointed them at the panting pegasus.

“Woah, now! Let’s not do anythin’ rash, okay?” said a startled Tony as he frantically waved his hooves around.

Barney moved to keep the situation from escalating. “Calm down, everypony! He’s with me!” he assured.

“Why is he so distressed?” asked one of the guards, not moving his sword.

“H-hold on, now! It’s just- just look at this!” he motioned to Hawkeye. Barney’s eyes widened for the third time today, and this time it wasn’t out of excitement. “She’s been jumped! Beaten! Her wing’s broken!” shouted Tony.

With the explanation of the cause of his jitteriness, Sarif lowered his scimitar.

“Yield, guards.”

And with his command, the guards also lowered their scimitars, but made no move to resheathe them.

“Tell me what you saw,” demanded Barney when he saw that his partner was not going to be spitted by Sarif and his guards.

“Just like I said, Boss Man,” responded Tony worriedly as he moved to carefully place Hawkeye on the table. “When I went down there, I found Hawkeye unconscious. She was hogtied, hurt, and her wing was bendin’ at an unnatural angle. She was also carryin’ some sorta object in one of her talons. I couldn’t get a good look at what it was, though, because she had a death grip on it. Not only that, but the pane to one of the doors leading to the assembly lines was busted and somepony left the machines runnin’,” he said as he turned to look at everyone in the room. Upon hearing this, Sarif’s guards turned to one another in askance as he glanced between Tony and Barney.

“Tony, where is the creature?” asked Barney as he glanced uneasily back at the present company.

Hawkeye groaned, interrupting the vested pegasus as she lifted her head, her good wing twitching in anxiety. “H-he’s…he got loose,” she answered.

“Got loose!?” shouted Sarif in surprise. “How on Equus could this creature have gotten loose! You all surely kept a close eye on him at all times while we were making the necessary preparations to journey through the Soranora Desert!” exclaimed Sarif. He then turned to Barney with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “You said he was unintelligent!”

“He showed no signs of being a threat! Not only that, but he hardly gave any reason aside from speaking for me to think that he was capable of such an act!” said Barney in response.

“I-it was my fault,” said Hawkeye quietly, pushing herself up into a seated position as she looked everywhere but at the others in the room.

“What did you say?” asked Barney in a tone that promised retribution.

“I said it was my fault,” she said with more power. “It was my fault that the…whatever he was escaped. I left the room for a minute when he was pacified and when I came back to check up on him, he had broken free. I’ve got a broken wing here to prove the fact that he got out,” said she as she attempted to move her broken wing. She winced when it twitched, Barney and everyone else remaining silent for her testimony. She looked down at the object in her hand, which turned out to be the coin I gave her, before continuing.

“He trapped me. I was close to restraining him, but he used my strength against me. I thought I had him pinned, but he, a dehydrated, cornered creature came out on top. H-he even…he even forced me to tell him how to get out of here by threatening to break my wing. Tony here knows how much us fliers value our wings! So I told him…and he still broke my wing before knocking me unconscious.”

The poor thing looked positively devastated, like a puppet with its strings severed, cutting it off from the whims of its puppeteer. She looked like she’d seen the Void, to be honest. She looked traumatized.

“I-I can still hear him whispering into my ear ‘You still owe me much more’ as he leans over me and ever so slowly fractures my bones as though they were made of glass. I-It h-hurts more in memory than it does in reality,” she shakily said as a few tears ran down her feathered face.

As Hawkeye silently wiped her face free of her tears, Tony jumped up to the table to comfort her, gently rubbing her back in understanding. Barney, on the other hand, had the same cold stare leveled at the griffiness despite her sob story.

"I found the poor girl cryin' when I arrived. She musta been torn apart..." said Tony.

If that didn’t make Barney anymore sympathetic, then the mofo must be truly cold-hearted; even I almost felt sorry for her, and I’m the one who caused her predicament. Still, someone was going to have to knock her down a few pegs further down the line anyway, so it might as well have been me.

“So you do not have the creature in your possession?” asked Bolukbasi Sarif, irritation laced in every word. “Have we travelled this far for no reason?”

“Of course not!” affirmed Barney. “As a matter of fact, I’m beginning to smell that rotten stench you mentioned earlier, Bolukbasi.”

The maroon pony turned his icy glance in my direction.

“And I don’t believe it was because of aged wood. Abandoned buildings do tend to be overrun by pests, after all, and pests tend to hide when they feel threatened.”

With those words, the fuming pony advanced toward the closet yet again, this time with purpose in every step. My heart started pumping yet again as I pulled out the knife in anticipation.

I couldn’t help but think that now would be a great time to make a run for it.

The guards curiously moved from their posts, swords at the ready, and Hawkeye stopped crying as Barney stopped in front of the door, moving to grasp the handle.

“Isn't that right, Mr. Wise Gu-,” Barney was interrupted, however, when I slammed the door into his face, causing him to stumble back as I pushed the door open completely as the guards jumped back in surprise.

I jumped on the table before quickly passing Sarif as he reached for his scimitar, the guards, Hawkeye, and Tony looking on in surprise at my sudden appearance as Barney held his bleeding nose. I blasted through the door, leaving them in my wake.

“You’ll never catch me, ya punk asses!” I shouted as I sprinted down the hall to the lobby area.

The guards and Sarif realized that they and every other able-bodied person should have been chasing me at that moment, the captain snapping out of his daydream before pointing after me.

“Seize him!”

Multiple collisions of hooves on stone let me know that I was being pursued by my would-be captors, the Saddle Arabian ponies determined to return to their home with me in chains.

‘Shitshitshitshitshit!’ I thought to myself as I continued running, wondering why I couldn’t just for once have a nice day that didn’t result in me being chased by slave drivers.

Author's Notes:

I had quite a bit of fun writing this chapter, even if it took all day. As promised last chapter, I'm attempting to expand the world of Reverie Bound to ensure it's not so small. I like to have room to write, and a single location doesn't give me enough elbow room to be as creative as possible.

Thank you guys for reading! See y'all in the next installment of Reverie Bound!

We Are But Friendly Businesspersons

I sprinted down the hall as quickly as my legs would take me as I heard the clacking of armored hooves behind me. As I quickly glanced back, I could see that I was being pursued by none other than Sarif and his guards, the Fearsome Threesome nowhere in sight. The ponies were forced to resheathe their scimitars before running after me, so that, along with my head start, gave me ample time to get ahead before they took chase.

Unfortunately for me, the Saddle Arabians were fast little bastards; their light armor did nothing to slow them down as they slowly closed the distance that I had put between us. I guess the longer legs meant they could move more quickly. Still, things seemed to be looking to work in my favor, as the hallways had plenty of old filing paper, cardboard boxes, and even filing cabinets for me to toss behind me in order to slow the ponies’ pursuit.

I panted heavily, my lack of proper rest still weighing on my shoulders, but the knowledge that stopping right now would result in my enslavement kept me moving forward. I turned a corner, grabbing onto the wall so that I could keep my momentum going, and headed toward a door that had a sign above it reading: “Lobby Area”. I pushed on to the end of the hall as the ponies skirted around the corner, still hot on my trail, slamming into the door hard enough to force it open.

Realizing that the door would now be useless after my show of strength, I quickly turned around to see another filing cabinet perfectly positioned on the side to allow for me to create an impromptu blockade. I shut the door as the ponies neared, Sarif at the front, and threw the filing cabinet down in front of it to ensure they wouldn’t be able to easily follow.

I turned back around and continued running until I reached what looked to be a reception area, with legless chairs that looked a lot like the ones in the conference room I just ran out of, a front desk with dusty miscellaneous items resting atop it, and an assortment of more filing cabinets.

Looking up at the low ceiling, I could see arrows pointing to various areas such as the employee lounge, the next manufacturing facility, the lower levels, and most importantly the exit.

By now, the angry ponies were bashing against the door, only held back by the obstruction I so wittily placed behind it, but they were quickly making progress in their endeavors. Alarmed, I followed the arrow pointing to the exit, sliding to a stop in front of the door so I could lower my head before throwing my weight into this obstacle as well.

To my misfortune, on the other side of the door lied a flight of stairs. Expecting the ground outside to be level, I foolishly continued looking straight ahead until my foot was met with open air. A quick glance down showed that I was going to have a bit of an unpleasant experience for the next few seconds.

‘Well, shit,’ was about all I could think at that moment as time seemed to slow to show me just how much of an idiot I was.

I tumbled down the stairs, shouts of pain and irritation leaving me every step of the way. Luckily, the staircase had only about ten steps, so I made contact with solid earth eventually. I landed on my back, my ruined hoodie gathering a blanket of dust and sand as I stared up at the cloudless sky while the sun beamed right back at me, giving me a warm welcome back outside. I was free! Finally!

I let out a small cheer as I moved to my knees, only to have the smile that had made its way onto my face summarily erased when I was greeted with the sound of several swords being drawn. Facing the direction of the sounds, I noticed three more Saddle Arabians with their scimitars pointed directly at me.

One of the guards started shouting demands at me in some harsh language as he moved closer to me. I stood to my full height, patting the grime off of my pants and shaking the dust off of my torn hoodie, keeping him in my sight as the other two moved to my sides, weapons also at the ready.

“English, mothafucka. Do you speak it?” I asked.

The guard took the hilt of his sword and slammed it into my stomach in response, making me double over. He then smacked me in the face, leaving me face first on the ground in pain, still clutching my aching belly.

I looked up to the suicidal pony, defiance painting my features as I spoke through clenched teeth.

“Listen here, asshole. You touch me again and I’mma have to bust out my ninjutsu moves, ya heard?” I threatened, a small smile etching its way onto my face in response to the guard’s scowl deepening.

He let out another command that I couldn’t understand before moving to once again strike me as I was on the ground before the doors once again burst open. Another command sounded from above me as I prepped myself for another beating, the Saddle Arabian doing the hitting finally backing away when he realized that he didn’t want me to break out the ninja moves. Now that I think about it, though, maybe it was because of the command…

I moved back to my hands and knees, painting the brown earth with bloody phlegm before I ran my tongue over my gums, checking for any loose teeth. Past a busted lip, there didn’t seem to be too much to worry about, so I turned my attention to the one who was ordering the others around, already having a good idea as to whom it was.

Surely enough, there stood my good pal Sarif, gazing down at me in annoyance, his guards on either side of him. He slowly descended down the stairs, the guards moving to surround me as he approached.

“Disarm him,” commanded the captain.

I was again pushed chin first into the ground, my arms being pulled apart by two guards as one of the ponies pulled my knife from my belt.

“You will learn not to make such an ass of yourself in the future, creature,” said Sarif as he drew a smaller blade from somewhere beneath his cape, pressing it against my neck as I was pulled back up by my head.

“The only ass I see is right in front of me,” I responded, staring angrily into Sarif’s yellow eyes as he stared intently back into my own.

“What you gonna do, boy? I could use a good shave right about now anyways.”

Sarif allowed a small smile to make its way to his face, his pearly whites showing as he responded. “You are utterly hilarious,” he said as he moved the knife gently up and down my neck. “But I do not plan on needlessly staining my blade today. Guards, restrain him,” he said as he withdrew the knife.

As one of the guards moved to grab rope that he just so happened to have on his person, the door was pushed open again. Hawkeye, Tony, and Barney stood at the top of the steps, each carrying their own bag of loot and looking like deer caught in headlights. Hawkeye seemed to be much more awake for some reason, Tony was fiddling with his necklace as he pulled it over his head, and Barney had dried blood smeared across his nose and foreleg.

The guards turned their attention to the trio, Sarif not even having to turn around as he asked a question.

“And where do you three think you are going?”

“You’ve already got your creature as far as I can see, so our deal is fulfilled,” responded an agitated Barney as he held a hoof to his sensitive nose.

They all walked down the steps as a team, carefully watching the armed Saddle Arabians as they descended. I could see that Hawkeye had her wing wrapped up before she walked out here. She was looking at me with an expression mixed between pity, hatred, and fear the entire time before her attention, too, was recaptured by the captain.

“Ah, but we are the ones who had to catch your creature, Mr. Yield, so I believe that renders your reward moot,” said Sarif as he turned to finally regard Barney.

Barney’s eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I will have to politely ask that you return my bits,” answered Sarif, reaching for his scimitar. “I would prefer there be no bloodshed required to ensure this happens.”

As he said this, the guards, including the one who was meant to tie me up, moved to stand beside him.

“We will not have any disagreements, will we, Mr. Yields? We are but friendly businesspersons until provoked, after all.”

“Shit!” whispered Barney sharply as he looked around before shouting “Hawkeye! Trixie Exit Dash Two!”

With that command, the griffiness reached into her pack and pulled out yet another pill – I guess she must have restocked with Tony on the way back up? – before tossing it at the hooves of the Saddle Arabians.

I held my breath and closed my eyes as I saw her pull out the pill to avoid asphyxiation and temporary blindness. The guards and Sarif didn’t seem do the same, as they were caught coughing and rubbing at their eyes as the gang ran in the opposite direction.

I felt around for my weapon, opening my eyes as the cloud faded just a bit, finding my knife strapped to one of the guards’ hips. I jumped up and tackled the uncoordinated pony to the earth, lifting his helmeted head up and smashing it back into the ground, knocking him unconscious before grabbing my knife.

As another saw that I was loose, he reached for his scimitar that he had dropped on the ground before I dashed over and kicked him in the throat, causing him to drop it as he gasped for air, grabbing at his windpipe.

The third – this one being the one who couldn’t speak a lick of English – was able to overcome his coughing fit soon enough to run over to me and tried to impale me with his sword. The motion was sloppy enough for me to sidestep before I swung my fist into the side of his muzzle, causing him to rear back in pain before I took him by the slender foreleg that held the sword, leveled it against the ground, and dropped a knee on it as I pulled back, breaking the bone.

The pony screamed as he clutched his foreleg before I kicked him in the jaw, his head swinging with the blow. Seeing that he was incapacitated, I chose the direction of the town I saw the gang running toward and sprinted in that direction, leaving in my wake three damaged ponies and three more who were only just then regaining their bearings.

“Rrraaaaaaaaaaaugh!” shouted someone, presumably Sarif, as he once again was able to use his lungs properly. There was more wrath in that one shout than I’d ever heard before, matching Mufasa back in the forest in terms of sheer ferocity.

I continued running, though, not bothering to look back as I headed toward civilization. I needed to get the hell out of Dodge, and there wasn’t no rest for the wicked apparently.

Author's Notes:

Though this chapter is shorter than most of the other recent ones, I had a lot of fun writing it! It felt right to end it where I did, to be honest. This story's starting to get somewhere now, and I'm pretty happy about the fact that Ladarion is seeming to grow with each chapter.

La Casa Blanca

Jogging’s fun. No really, allow me to just sit here and relay to you what it’s like running through a desert. I’m almost certain that you’ll find the tale of an idiot running around in the middle of a place too boring for even plants to grow quite intriguing, won’t you?

Moving on, I jogged and jogged through the brown terrain that never seemed to change, the city never getting any closer from the looks of it. When I couldn’t jog anymore, I walked. When I couldn’t walk, I crawled. When I couldn’t crawl, I took a five minute break to drink a bit of water from my canteens that were fortunately filled by the ever kind Hawkeye before getting back up off my ass to go back to jogging.

The hours blended together into something that stretched on forever, the only thing keeping me from simply stopping and allowing myself to expire being the slight shift of the sun in the sky and the gradual enlargement of the town in the distance. Nothing about the landscape itself changed, but in the sky floated more clouds than anywhere else in this dried out hellhole. The number being one to be precise. Sigh.

Eventually, I reached the outskirts of the sprawling metropolis, the haven for hellions, the shitstain of the earth; I reached Sauna Pai.

Let me tell you a bit about this place. Sauna Pai was a homely little town in the middle of nowhere that was so small that every family had grown next to one another for generations upon generations. Every individual in the population knew one another on a first name basis, and they were all good friends. Well, except for the two largest families in the region.

The Blancas of the house La Casa Blanca – seriously, I’m pretty sure that translated to the White House. Where are these these ponies getting their names from? – were a wealthy family that was quite influencial throughout the region. Though they were quite a small, tightly-knit family consisting of about twelve members, they were undoubtedly powerful.

Then there were the Eltens of house…Elten. This family was much larger than the Blancas, consisting of a jaw-dropping fifty two members. The only problem with this family? They descended from gamblers. The first two members of the family, Daddy and Momma Elten, migrated to this desolate plain in hopes of earning a little more spending cash when they helped build the town, believing that it would become a tourist attraction for its “quaint atmosphere and industrious communities”.

None of this happened the way they had planned, however, and somewhere along the line they had a few children who had a few more children with the locals. When the Eltens were all but broke, meaning they had their hooves on what probably equated to over two million U.S. dollars, they gambled out of desperation at the Blancas’ casino that for some reason was opened out here.

The equivalent to two million dollars and they were desperate? Come the fuck on.

Anyway, as their family grew larger and larger and they grew poorer and poorer, they did the only logical thing: they gambled more and more of their money in hopes of getting a larger return. They lost all their cash and they blamed it on the Blancas for “cheating” them out of their fortune. I literally facepalmed when I spoke to one of the more impassioned members of the Elten family, who happened to be drunk and rambling at the time, about this issue. I got all of this information simply because I was asking where the nearest bar was.

I wanted to smack the taste out of his blabbering mouth for wasting my time with some feud I gave zero shits about.

Since I started the story, though, I might as well finish it. The Blancas, on the other hand, came from a much humbler family of tomato farmers that all stuck together through thick and thin, and extended from the first generation that moved to Sauna Pai after the once prominent Elten family in hopes of finding decent-paying jobs. Somehow they managed to save up enough money by dually selling their “top-notch” tomatoes that they grew indoors and working for the Eltens.

They eventually pushed their way across the land with their amazing vegetables, giving jobs to various unemployed families and in turn increasing their influence. They built a casino on the side in Sauna Pai, and when the Blancas weaned themselves off of the teats of the Elten family, the Eltens began to gamble at their esteemed establishment in hopes of increasing their wealth.

Needless to say, the exact opposite happened, and when the Eltens came crawling on their equine equivalents of knees to the Blancas, begging for money to help them get their lives back on track. Naturally, being the kind-hearted, and not at all manipulative, people they were, the Blancas gave the Eltens the money they needed to get out of their hard times.

Then the Eltens threw it away gambling again.

I got this information from a member of the Blanca family as he was trotting down the “nicer” streets of Sauna Pai at about midnight. He was also intoxicated. No wonder these ponies were so talkative when a literal alien from another world spoke to them in the dead of night, they were all drunk! I wanted to get drunk too, so why wouldn’t anyone simply point me in the direction of the bar when I asked them instead of giving me their damned family history!?

I placed a hand on my head as I sighed, looking down to the pony named Queseque Blanca, who for some reason had taken us out of the town and rested near a sign out front. On it was the population number, there being only two hundred ten ponies, the previous number of sixty four residents being crossed off with what looked to be faded chalk.

“Listen,” I said, running my hand down my face. “Will you just direct me to the nearest bar? I ain’t got time for your bullshit.”

“And of course we cannot forget of my part in this dangerous game!” responded the drunken pony, completely ignoring what I had to say. “I am the lover who is unloved! The dreamer who cannot come to terms with reality! I am the sheagle who is without wings!” Oh, and this guy had an amazing Spanish accent, by the by.

“Sheagle? The fuck’s a sheagle?”

“Sheagle, y’know? Eh, like an, uh, l-like a she eagle! I am the flyer, but I may as well have the lady parts because I cannot speak to the ladies, you know amigo?”

“I feel ya, compadre, but I honestly don’t give a shit. I just want to find the nearest bar! Can’t you get that through that thick ass head o’ yours?” I asked, beginning to feel a bit irritated with this copper-haired pony.

Queseque aimed his hazel eyes in my direction. “Qué? Oh, yes, yes. But of course! I could point you to the greatest bar in town, man!”

With those words, Queseque – who probably couldn’t even pronounce his overly-complicated name in this state – extended his tangerine hued wings and attempted to fly, only to somehow catch the single gust of wind that had ever passed through this desert and go crashing into the sign.

“I’m okay!” he drunkenly said.

I facepalmed for the umpteenth time since the past five minutes before turning around to walk back into town.

“I think I can find my own way, bro.”

“Ey, no need, amigo!” said the pegasus as he stumbled over alongside me. “I think walking’s better anyway. We can just sit here under the stars in the desert sky while getting to know one another…It’s quite romantic.”

I turned toward Queseque, an eyebrow raised. “Tangarine Pony. Is it a’ight if I call you Tangarine Pony?” Queseque nodded. “I don’t swing that way, bro. I know you sayin’ you ain’t got some in a while, but I ain’t experimentin’, so you ain’t either. Take that crap to someone you know,” I said.

“What? Oh! No, no! You misunderestimate me, fam. I’m just thinking about…her…” he said with a starry-eyed expression that was illuminated by the moon as it hanged in the sky. Cursed drunks and their misuse of words. ‘Misunderestimate’? For real?

I could tell that he wanted me to ask about who this mystery girl was, so I decided not to ask for that specific reason.

“I know what you’re thinking, you are wondering who she is, the dove who stole my heart,” said Queseque.

“Actually, no, I’m not. Your bizz is your bizz, ya dig? An’ I ain’t tryin’ to intrude on your personal life.”

“Her name, the mare who reduced this fierce hawk into a whimpering hatchling, is-,” I cut him off.

“None o’ my business?” I tried.

“Her name is Moxie Elten!”

Damn ponies.

“One, two, three,…” I said as I stopped in the middle of the street we were on.

“You alright, bro?” asked Queseque as he turned back around to regard me with worried eyes. I continued counting as he trotted closer to me.

“What’s wrong, ese?”

“I’m tryin’ not to smack a bitch, is what’s wrong. But fortunately for you, my little pony, I’m merciful. Guess my anger management courses in elementary school paid off,” I gave him a winning smile as I passed him, still in search of the local bar.

The streetlights were still being lit by various townspeople, the glass casings being opened and the candles inside being lit. I noticed that a few of them were glaring down at the Blanca I was next to, and others were passing glares on to me along with looks of fear. I could only assume that these must have been the members of the once prestigious Elten family.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable underneath all the scrutinizing glances the ponies around us gave, but as Queseque continued rambling on as though he didn’t notice them I simply kept by his side.

As we moved further into the small town, I saw a greater presence of Saddle Arabian guards. There weren’t many, probably only about a dozen, but they were definitely here. I received even more discomforting stares from the red-garbed ponies as they played with their weapons or stopped their conversations in their language to simply look at me intently.

More whispers were exchanged between the guards as we approached before I nudged Queseque with a boot.

“Yo, where the hell we goin’?” I whispered. “The bar can’t be that far away!”

“As I’ve said, hermano, we’re going to the best bar in town!”

“And where would that be, exactly?” I queried.

“Oh, it’s just across the way! We’re going to my parents’ place, homes!” he responded, seeming slightly more sober.

“Oh for crying out loud,” I said exasperatedly.

“Que te pasa?” questioned the pony.

I looked down at him in askance. “The hell’d you just say to me?”

“What’s wrong, ese? That’s what I’m asking,” said Queseque.

“It’s nothin’, Tangarine. Nothin’ at all. They got booze at your place?” I asked.

“Of course, bro! The best brew in town!” he enthusiastically said, showing his bright white teeth as he smiled.

“Good. Let’s just hurry the hell up an’ get there before we-,” I was interrupted as a Saddle Arabian stepped in front of us.

“What do you want?” I asked, warily looking at the swan-necked pony.

“Ah, we were simply wondering if we could walk you and the respectable Mr. Blanca to his home. It does get quite dangerous after dark, after all,” said the nameless pony as his cronies moved to surround us.

“Piss off,” I said, trying to keep the nervousness out of my tone as I realized they were all armed. “We don’t need your help walkin’ nowhe-,” and yet again I was interrupted, but this time it was by a bumbling moron.

“Sure thing, bros! The more the merrier!” said the fruit-colored idiot.

“Then we shall take you under our care for the time being, Mr. Blanca. The relations between your family and Saddle Arabia are quite valued,” responded the leader of this group of Saddle Arabians, a sycophantic smile crossing his tannish face.

“Come with us; we shall see you are safely returned home.”

I really wanted to strangle Queseque at this moment. He’d been nothing but a nuisance thus far, and I was about done with his gallivanting, but I needed to endure this for the time being because of him.

I felt uncomfortable the whole walk, not paying too much attention to the surroundings so much as I was eyeing the red-garbed guards. Honestly, why did Queseque agree to this?

As we were led to the town’s outskirts, we eventually came across a paved cement path, a nice change from the dirt and dust of Sauna Pai’s regular ground.The Saddle Arabians kept quiet for the most part. The leader, though, eventually struck up small talk with Queseque as he trotted along.

“So, Mr. Blanca, what were you doing in Sauna Pai all by yourself after dark?” asked the leader.

“Oh, nothing much, ese. I was simply hitting the town with a couple of my amigos, but they bailed on me halfway through the night, man. What kind of crap is that, am I right?”

“Indeed,” answered the ringleader, sounding rather disinterested. “If there is but one thing to enjoy about your…interesting family, I must say that it is their products. I truly do find their vegetables – the tomatoes in particular – rather delightful. How is it that they cultivate their crops so well?” asked the pony.

“Oh, that’s a secret closely guarded, mi amigo, one so closely guarded that not even I know of it. I heard that they use some kind of special product during the cultivating process, though, if that helps,” responded Queseque.

“Ah,” responded the ringleader. I could see that I was being closely watched by the other Saddle Arabians, who seemed to be sizing me up as we walked. Every time I looked back at them when they glanced, though, they would turn their heads forward, acting as though they weren’t doing anything.

“So I have heard that you and Prince Yahguul have become fast friends, Mr. Blanca. Would you mind telling me how that came to be?”

“Sure thing Señor, uh…,” Queseque trailed off as he realized he never asked the pony’s name.

“Arib, you may call me,” the Saddle Arabian provided.

“Arib! Well, me and the Prince both met in the most normal of ways: we both were drunk in a dirty bar and sang songs together! It only took but one night to know we were kindred spirits, ese!” the stallion beamed at Arib.

“Hmhm. Indeed. That sounds just like something our fair Prince would do,” the guard smiled before turning to look up at me, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“Hello, there. You already have my name, so would you mind giving me yours? It is only fair.”

I looked down at the pony, chewing my tongue as I considered telling him to go shove his questions where the sun don’t shine. Eventually, though, I settled on just telling him.

“Ladarion,” I said simply.

“Ladarion? Ladarion, Ladarion,…” Arib rolled the name around on his tongue a bit as he turned back to face forward. “An interesting name, that is. I quite like it,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks. Anything important you gotta ask, though?” I responded, a bit of hostility creeping into my tone.

“Where are you from, Ladarion? I am curious,” stated Arib.

“I come from a big blue ball somewhere in the cosmos,” I responded. “From a planet where people can make others’ heads explode without even touching them.”

Arib’s curious look turned into one of alarm. “W-what?” he eloquently challenged, horror clearly carved into his visage.

“Yup. If I stare you in the eyes hard enough, I can make your brain ooze outta your nose,” I said, a smile creeping on to my face as I looked into the pony’s brown eyes. Arib let out a small cough as he turned to once again face forward, not wanting to test out my threat.

We finally reached Queseque’s mansion, meaning the silence that I had thankfully forced out of Arib was shattered as the shorter guards, covered in silver chestpieces and faceless helmets, trotted up to meet us. The mansion was white, holding true to the Blanca name, and was almost like a miniature version of the White House. There was a gate that separated us from the synthetic green grass and running fountains on the other side, and the guards that stood in front of it stood vigilantly, as was their duty.

The guards were armed with spears and shortswords, and they readied them at the sight of the Saddle Arabian group approaching the house. They then lowered their weapons once again as they saw the tangerine pony move his way through the red-garbed guards.

One of the guards, this one a winged pony, trotted up to the young Blanca.

“It is a pleasure to see you in good health, Mr. Blanca,” said the guard.

“Oh, please! Mr. Blanca is the name of my old man, you know this, Flash!” responded Queseque.

The blue-maned guard offered a salute as he responded. “My apologies, sir. Who is your company?” he said as he looked to me.

“He’s an amigo, Flash. We’re going to go drinking together!” Queseque excitedly responded.

“Are you sure that’s wise, sir? You already seem a bit…tipsy,” said Flash as he eyed the wobbly pony.

“It’s all good, ese! You and I both know I can take shots like a champ!” responded Queseque before drunkenly laughing.

“Of course, sir. Don’t hurt yourself,” the tannish pony said as he waved for the guards on the other side of the gate to open it.

“Gracias, amigo!” said the obnoxious pony as he waltzed inside before turning around to look at me with a smile. “Well? You coming in or what, hermano?”

I turned back to the Saddle Arabians who were all still scrutinizing me before looking back at the tangerine-coated pony, weighing my options of dying should I go with either option.

I had a very important question to ask before I made any decisions, though:

“There’s gonna be alcohol, right?” I asked, a suspicious expression on my face.

“Of course, man! It’s all free, too!”

And like that, I decided I would prefer to go out with alcohol poisoning than I would with steel poisoning.

As I walked past the gate, Queseque smiled up at me before casting a glare over to Arib and his crew. “Before I forget, I gotta say something: Don’t let me see your brown-nosing faces around my house again, okay? I’ve been nice enough trying to set up better relations between my family and your nation, but you best back off a bit, homes,” he said as he waved a hoof.

“Guards, remove them from my property, por favor.” The guards moved forward, swords and spears aimed Arib and the rest of the Saddle Arabians, who all had surprised looks on their faces.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Arib. “We helped you through your town!”

“Though the Eltens may be a threat, they’d never lay a hoof on me, hermano. They may have numbers, but I’ve got power. One means a lot more than the other in the long run. Besides, I’m a grown stallion, I can walk through Sauna Pai myself with nopony holding my hoof. Thank you for your help, though, and adios amigo!” Queseque said as he waved away the Saddle Arabians.

As the guards advanced, Arib and his men irritatedly allowed themselves to be escorted off of the property of the Blancas, the leader turning back once more to give Queseque the evil eye before disappearing out of sight.

“Well, ese? Are you ready to get your drink on?”

I looked down curiosly at the pegasus as he walked ahead of me, honestly surprised at his display.

I could only dumbly follow after him to the front of his family’s mansion, which had the letters “LCB” engraved in bold steel letters on their bold steel door.

“Ladarion’s the name, right?” he asked. At my nod he smiled, turning with a flourish in his drunken steps as he lifted a hoof to present the mansion that he called home.

“Welcome to La Casa Blanca!”

Author's Notes:

I was planning on there being a bar fight by the end of this chapter, but then THIS suddenly hit me outta nowhere. I'm interested to see where I can take this sudden change in plans...

Like, comment, breakdance and all that jazz. Love y'all!

I'm Here to Drink Your Booze

After his flashy introduction to his house, Queseque - who I’m now gonna simply call Q - walked up to the giant steel door and grabbed a handle that hung from it, lifting it up and slamming it into the metal about three times. I walked up behind him as what looked to be a green mare dressed in a frilly French maid outfit opened the door for him to allow him entrance.

You got no idea how much confusion racked my mind at the sight of a miniature horse dressed in such away. The dress ended just above her tail, making me wonder just what the hell the point of wearing the dress was if it wasn’t going to obscure anything important, and hugged her slim body tightly around her wings. The maid even had long white stockings on her forelegs and hind legs that covered up most of the fur beneath, prissy black shoes, and the maid cap to top the look off. Her brunette hair was tied into a neat little bun and her bright blue eyes moved between Q and I.

“Welcome, Sir Queseque Blanca. It is good to see you well,” said the maid in a soft tone that held latent admiration as she looked down at Q. “What brings you home so early?”

If a little after midnight for this guy was early, I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of crazy lifestyle the tangerine-coated frat boy by my side lived in this tiny community.

Q scratched at the stubble lining his face, aiming his tired, yet excited eyes at the maid. A drunken smile stretched across Q’s face as he spoke. “Hey mamasita! Glad to see somepony missed me! I was gonna be out a lot longer, but I ran into this fella right here during my night on the town!” said Q as he pointed a hoof in my direction. The maid turned to me as he gestured in my direction.

“Sup?” I greeted as she gave me a quick once-over.

The maid chose to stay silent as she regarded me with distrustful eyes.

“I decided that since this was our unique friend’s first time being here in the great city of Sauna Pai, I should introduce him to some of the finer brews of Casa la Blanca! It’s a good idea, no?” Q said as he flashed the maid a smile.

“...” responded the maid.

She was still staring at me as she stayed silent, by the by, and it was beginning to get on my nerves.

I stared right back. “What’s wrong, girl? See somethin’ you like? Understandable, I guess. I am quite the catch, after all,” I teased, a slight smile on my face.

The maid’s gaze hardened as she still chose not to speak before her attention was again snatched by the stallion beside me.

“I promise you he won’t bite, Marzia. Isn’t that right, Ladarion?” asked Q as he looked up to me with an encouraging smile.

I shrugged as I looked down at him. “I was plannin’ on it, but you just went and ruined all the fun,” the stallion gave out a chuckle at that for some reason. “But since you said so, I’ll stay civil, I guess.”

With that said, Q turned his back to Marzia. “Well, Señorita Decocco? Is that to your liking?”

“Of course,” responded Marzia as she moved herself out of the entrance to the mansion.

“Make yourself at home, Sir Queseque Blanca,” she said as she waved a hoof, gesturing for us to walk inside before she turned her wary eyes to me as well. “And the same welcome extends to you, Mr. Ladarion.”

She only heard my name once and already used it with a professional amount of courtesy. Even if the ‘Mr.’ part pissed me off as much as it seemed to roll on her tongue like an overflow of salt - her expression as she said it was hilarious, too - I took it in stride, nodding to the mare as she cast her still-suspicious eyes at me.

I noticed Q kicking off what looked to be silver horseshoes on the lavish purple carpet that looked like the Magic Carpet from Aladdin before he continued walking forward, drunkenly singing a song that had no consistent tune.

I stepped into the mansion, observing the high-end interior. The floor was made of white marble that was broken up at intervals by red four by four diamonds that all formed a circular shape beneath an overhanging crystalline chandelier, with another circle of marble enclosing them within the space. The floor shone as though it was buffed mere seconds before I walked through the entrance, reflecting the low-intensity light quite well.

There were two flights of stairs that formed a semicircle on the far end of the palatial entrance hall, hugging the walls that were shaped to hold them. The stairs were covered with sumptuous purple cloth that was just as opulent as that of the Magic Carpet Q had carelessly dropped his horseshoes on, with fancy golden threads weaved into extravagant designs that made each step tell its own separate tale based off of artistic complexity alone.

Behind the polished oakwood volute newels that curled back into themselves time and time again rested two large vases, one behind each handrail. The vases stood at about twice the height of the average pony - and by average I mean excluding the tall sons of guns known as Saddle Arabians - and were made of what looked to be bronze or copper. Each vase had a story to tell about the Blancas, with farmers on a dirt field on a dark grey background on etched into the left vase and successful businessmen in a large house on a background of light blue on the right.

The handrails were held by dustless balusters coated with magnificent off-white paint and further up the stairs rested candelabras, each with three branches and one on both sets of staircases. Each candelabra held candlesticks that were all lit, the objects themselves being carved out of brownish copper. A great white pillar rested at the top of each step, out of the way so as to grant walking room, but still keeping the heavy ceiling from crumbling down in a way that reminded me of Atlas in Greek mythology as he held the sky on his shoulders.

Down the hall Q was walking down, there laid four more pillars set about in a quadrilateral shape, each keeping the second floor from falling down just as the pillars atop the stairs had done for the ceiling. Behind these pillars rested a grandiose dining room, with a rectangular table made of more polished oakwood and various decorations, such as a long purple cloth that ran down the length of it, legless wooden chairs with black leather padding that ran down the sides and two larger wooden chairs with purple leather padding at both ends of the table, more candelabras - three to be exact - set in intervals down the long surface, and steel plates and silverware set up at each chair. The ponies could even glance outside into the vast desert if they wanted, as there were three twenty foot tall windows barred with gold that they could gaze out of during their dinners.

As I stepped further into the house, ready to follow the lively pony, the maid stopped me with a small “Ahem.”

I glanced at her confusedly before she pointed down to my boots.

“You will have to remove your boots before you go any further, Mr. Ladarion,” she said, eyeing me contemptuously.

“You sure you want that?” I asked. “I can’t say I’m the most hygienic person at this moment.”

She continued looking at me expectantly, not moving a muscle as she kept her icy gaze on me.

“Well, be that way, then, girl. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I replied as I bent down to untie and remove my beat up Timberlands.

As I removed them, a putrid stench permeated throughout the room, assaulting the senses of the both of us. Marzia wrinkled her dainty muzzle as she caught wind of the odor, but other than that didn’t react the way I wanted her to. Damn mare was good at keeping her cool, I’ll give her that.

“I will take these to be washed right away,” she said as she picked up my boots in her hooves before moving them beneath her wings and walking off up the stairs.

I walked toward the large dining table after she left, there being a few guards stationed around the interior of the mansion. I passed them without a second glance as they stared forward like statues before actually making it toward the dining room.

Upon my entrance, I saw that adjacent to the dining room was a large kitchen - though it was out of use for now - that had a long desk allowing plates and other items to be exchanged over the counter and a wooden push-push door that gave any waiters access into and out of the kitchen.

Sitting in the large chair at the end of the table was none other than Queseque as he awaited my entrance.

“Come on, hombre. I want to introduce you to my old man before we start emptying his bar.”

“A’ight. Lead the way, then,” I responded.

Q hopped up out of the chair before walking to the other side of the dining room, opposite of the kitchen, where a door that led to a fireplace lay; the hearth was made of the same marble as the floor, there were shelves upon shelves stacked with collections of books by various authors from various species, and the entire place seemed to radiate a rather homely atmosphere. In comparison to the other rooms and areas of this house, this room was rather humble.

Q pushed the door completely open after knocking twice, revealing a bespectacled, red-coated earth pony with magnificent gray hair as he sat in a large black leather armchair that rested next to a nightstand. The pony had a pipe in his mouth that he puffed every now and again, with a gigantic, well-groomed moustache resting atop his mouth, and a purple cravat made of silk that was tied around a white button-up, a dark gray cardigan overtop his other clothing articles. In his strong hooves was one of the books from his generous selection, one that he seemed to be quite invested in as he slowly scanned over the pages.

What I assumed to be Q’s father looked up from his book with disinterested eyes as he heard the click-clacking of Q’s horsey hooves and the pit-patting of my human feet. His attention was taken by Q as he trotted right up to him.

“Ey, Papi! I brought some company over if you don’t mind!” said Queseque, pointing a hoof in my direction.

His father turned his hazel eyes to me as he took another puff from his pipe before closing his book to inspect me further.

“I can see that,” responded ‘Papi’ in a baritone voice with a rich Spanish accent somewhat heavier than his son’s before he spoke to me directly. “A rather tall one, you are,” he said, giving me an appraising look.

“Compared to most of everyone else here? Yeah, I can see why you’d say that,” I said.

“And you stink of odors most foul as well,” he continued, removing his pipe from his mouth.

I shrugged. “After going at least a week without a proper shower? Yeah, I can see why you’d say that,” I responded as I stuffed a hand into one of my cluttered pockets, rubbing a finger against the red stone Pai Mei gave me.

The father placed his book on the nightstand as he hopped out of his seat to rub his son’s head, sniffing the air before humming in disapproval.

“Mí Hijo, you have been out drinking again despite my warnings? One of these days, Queseque, you will learn why I discourage such things when you are in Sausa Pai after dark.” Q gave his father a small glare as he turned turned toward me, likely not too appreciative of being treated like a child in front of a stranger.

As Q muttered darkly while running a hoof through his disheveled mane, his father trotted toward me, taking another puff from his pipe as he planted himself in front of me and extended a hoof. “The name is Blanca. Nahive Blanca,” he said as he pulled out his pipe, foreleg still extended.

I looked down at him in surprise, shocked that he allowed a stranger that was quite literally pulled off the streets into a home as nice as his with no complaints. “Nice meetin’ you, Nahive. Name’s Ladarion,” I said as I grasped his hoof. Though he was up there in age, it was clear that he was no slouch when it came to physical activity. We shared a working-class handshake born of active lifestyles before pulling away from one another. “I’m here to drink your booze,” I said with a cheeky smile crossing my face.

“No. You are going to get out,” he said in response. Taken aback, I looked at him with confusion molding my expression before he took another puff of his pipe.

“Wha-? B-but Papi, you allowed that grave robbing mare here and all she does is take up space! Ladarion and I were planning on having a bit of fu-,” said Queseque before his father held up a hoof without looking at him, shutting him up. I was honestly wondering why he was so desperate to have me around…

“As I have stated before, Sr. Ladarion, you stink. You may have all of the alcohol you want from the bar after you bathe,” said Mr. Blanca, pulling out and opening a golden pocket watch out of one of his pockets. “I will give you thirty minutes. A maid will lead you to the bathroom.” With that, he closed the pocket watch and stuffed it back into his pocket, placing his pipe fully between his lips so that he could clap his hooves together, producing a loud, ringing noise.

Not even two seconds later, the ever pleasant Miss Decocco arrived at the door to answer Mr. Blanca’s call.

“How may I aid you, Mr. Blanca?” she asked demurely, narrowing her eyes at me when she noticed my presence.

“Take Sr. Ladarion to the upper suite; the one with the hot tub. Do make sure that he is scrubbed clean as well, will you? Queseque and I have something to discuss in the meantime,” said Mr. Blanca as he waved us away.

Before we got to the door, Mr. Blanca called Marzia once again. “Miss Decocco,” he asked. “Yes?” she responded. “Be sure to take this young stallion’s clothes to the wash, por favor. He reeks of sweat and shame.” “But of course, sir.”

Again the mare brushed past me, wrinkling her nose yet again as she smelled the musky scent only known by those with a will to survive. I let out a small snicker at seeing her expression as I moved to turn around. I slowed down though to eavesdrop on this other character that was apparently stopping by in La Casa Blanca, hearing a small bit of information before being forced to walk after the mare:

“Papi, you never listen to what I say! I don’t trust that mare. I don’t trust her occupation, her shady history, or her mannerisms. I don’t know why you are always allowing odd mares into our home, especially those cut from her cloth!”

“Queseque, mí hijo, she is an important business partner. She has brought a great deal of income our way for covering up the details of her job in this region, and I must admit that while she may hold an untamed beauty, I never have had those intentions. Your mother and I are married for a reason, after all…”

The voices faded as I increased the distance between myself and Mr. Blanca’s study.

“Come, Mr. Ladarion. We do not have all night.”

“A’ight, I’m comin’...”

We walked up the lavish, carpeted stairs and down a dimly lit hall, Marzia leading and me following. Every time I tried to strike up conversation the girl would either politely say the equivalent of shut up or ignore me outright. I almost forgot that she was a bitch, but that served as a healthy reminder, I suppose, so I kept quiet after about my third try to talk to her.

When we finally arrived at a door that was as posh as the rest of the mansion, I found myself thankful that we reached what I presumed to be our destination before the awkward silence that had built up between Marzia and I stretched on for too long.

The green mare pushed the door open, showing the spacious and snazzy interior; the floor was marble as it was everywhere else in this house, the walls were composed of white diamond-shaped tiles with golden outer edges, and the ceiling somehow emitted light without there being any light bulbs.

I’d’ve scratched my head at that if my attention wasn’t stolen by the large tub that sat in the middle of the room. Three steps that gradually descended into the tub circled around it - just imagine a dartboard and think of the circle the tub sat in as the bullseye - and were still made of marble. The tub seemed to have been built into the floor, with a smaller hemisphere with two golden knobs and a faucet being carved into the ground. This room was built oddly if you ask me. Who bathes without curtains or without a mirror or a proper sink or toilet in their bathroom?

I suddenly remembered that Mr. Blanca did indeed call this a bathroom when he told dear Marzia here to lead me here before nearly caving in my forehead with my palm. Damn rich people and taking everything too literally. The Blanca family actually had a room specifically built for bathing and bathing alone! C’mon!

I blinked out of my trance when I heard a throat clear impatiently beside me. I turned to find Marzia giving me a rather intense glare. I stared dumbly back at the mare, about half a minute passing before she moved to speak.

“Well? Are you planning on stepping into the bathroom before my hair greys, Mr. Ladarion?” she asked in an irritated voice.

I looked back at her disbelievingly. “Uh, what are you doin’?”

“I am holding open the door for you so that you may bathe, Mr. Ladarion.”

“Why?”

“Because that is my job, Mr. Ladarion.”

“Why?”

“Because I am paid to do my job, Mr. Ladarion.”

“Why?”

“If you do not stop asking why I am going to make you regret it.”

“...Why?”

The mare stomped a hind leg into the floor before shouting at me: “If you do not step into this bathroom this instant, so help me I’ll force your teeth down your throat!”

I jumped a bit at the outburst before an amused smile settled onto my face at the rage on hers, my heart once again glowing in response to her unadulterated anger. I held my arms up in a placating gesture. “Woah, there. Simmer down, girl. I was just wonderin’ why a woman is holding a door open for a man, is all. It’s supposed to work the other way around.”

“Will you hurry up and step inside?” she asked annoyedly.

“After you answer my question.”

“Because that is considered a gesture of politeness! It is simple etiquette, you stupid monkey! Are you so uncivilized that you do not know what is meant to be common sense!?” she barked as she let go of the door.

“I mean, yeah, I know what etiquette is, but it’s usually the man who holds the door open for the woman where I come from, ya dig? And there ain’t no need to be so racist, either. I’m a human being, not some simple primate. You sayin’ that ‘cuz I’m black or somethin’?” I asked, my smile dipping somewhat as my heart glowed a bit brighter due to my own anger rising at the mention of the word ‘monkey’.

“I do not care what you are, Ladarion. Will you stop being such a pain in my tail?” she asked through gritted teeth.

We both sat in tense silence for a minute as we stared hardly into one anothers’ eyes. I clenched my fists and she pawed at the floor like a bull ready to charge before a small bit of laughter sounded through the empty hall.

To my surprise, I realized that the sound was coming from me. The mare looked on in stunned silence as my laughter grew more hearty as a sense of untamed glee passed throughout my body. She allowed a small chuckle to escape from her after she got over her shock at hearing my own, soon joining me in a paroxysm of joy before she actually snorted. Our laughter quickly cut out as she covered her muzzle with a hoof, a slight blush painting her face as we looked each into each others’ eyes.

Eventually I started chuckling yet again, pointing at the mare as my delight once again returned.

“Haha! Y-you just snorted! Hahaha!” I fell against the wall, still laughing all the while before she spoke.

“Hmhm. I did didn’t I!?” she asked with a smile as hysteria once again took control of her body.

Our combined euphoria reverberated off the walls as I doubled over, Marzia now rolling on the floor in a completely unladylike fashion before she beated against the floor with a hoof.

When our laughter was reduced to chuckles and giggles, I pushed myself off the wall, helping the mare up off the floor and receiving a small “Thank you.” in return.

“Well, now that that’s outta the way, I’mma go an’ bathe right quick, ‘kay?” I said as I placed a hand against the door.

“Oh, nono,” responded Marzia, walking up beside me. At my questioning glance, she clarified her statement. “You see, it is proper form for the maid to wash any guests of Mr. Blanca’s house. It has been that way for generations, Mr. Ladarion,” she said in a less hostile tone than before.

I raised an eyebrow before speaking. “As much as I would like for a human maid to wash me all over, I don’t think I’m comfortable with allowing a stranger, especially those of a new species, to touch my unspeakables. You gonna have to break that tradition o’ yours, cuz the only person touchin’ me is me.”

As I tried to push the door open, the mare put a hoof in front of me. “Why so uptight, Mr. Ladarion? It is only a bath,” she said, another suspicious look in her eyes.

I sighed at having to explain such simple things as basic appropriateness to what may as well have been an uneducated woman. “It’s because where I come from there’s a thing we call modesty. You cover up your private parts or you get arrested for indecency, ‘cuz not everyone wants to see what you’re offerin’, ya dig?”

“No I do not ‘dig’ as you say. Why are you...humans? so restrictive against nudity? Here, nudity is a norm, as you have likely seen. You only need to wear uniforms for certain occupations, but otherwise are allowed to walk around as you please. Take my uniform for example,” she said as she gave a little twirl to show it off, me diverting my eyes so I didn’t see anything not PG-13. “This shows that I am a maid, but otherwise I go without any article of clothing. It is liberating.”

“Like I said, we humans don’t want to see what others got. Like what you said about proper etiquette earlier, we do it for the benefit of one another in a way. That, and clothing is a symbol of status where I’m from, as I’m sure works the same here. A bum dresses up more raggedly than a more wealthy and sharply-dressed member of Congress. That, and we don’t have sheaths and stand upright, meanin’ everything kinda hangs out in the open for others to see.”

“You have no sheath? Ah, well that makes some form of sense. You truly are a strange creature, Mr. Ladarion.”

“I get told that a lot, Cocoa,” I replied as I worked a kink out of my neck. “Listen, I like talkin’ about dicks as much as the next guy, but do you mind leavin’ me to my lonesome? I still don’t want you seein’ nothin’,” I said.

“I still must do my job, Mr. Ladarion. And did you just call me Cocoa? Really?” she asked with an unimpressed glare.

“Sure did, Cocoa,” I said, staring right back into her eyes. “I’ll let you in, but you don’t get to rub your hooves all over me like you were hopin’, girl.”

“Pfeh. You wish those were my intentions, human,” she said with an eyeroll.

I smiled at her response. “Look at us. Already fast friends, you an’ I.”

“I do not consider you my friend, Mr. Ladarion, nor will I likely ever. You are but a guest in Mr. Blanca’s house, meaning to take from him without giving back in turn.”

“You read me like an open book, girl. If there’s nothin’ else you remember about me, remember that simple statement, ‘cuz I ain’t gon’ be here for long.”

“Oh, thank the heavens.”

“Y’see? Already back to the jokes!”

“Who said I was joking?”

That shut me up for a second. “Touche, Cocoa. Touche."

With those words, I finally pushed the door open, the low light welcoming me inside as I drew toward the tub. I grew distinctly aware of how grimy I felt after not bathing for so long, but I aimed to remedy that in a moment.

Smiling to myself, I reached to pull off my shirt as I heard the door shut behind me before a voice pierced through my musing:

“Well, Mr. Ladarion? Strip.”

And like that, I was back in my high school locker room.

“W-what?” I asked, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment.

Marzia raised an eyebrow as she regarded me. “Undress, Mr. Ladarion. Do you understand what that means?” she asked as though she were speaking to a child. “The sooner you take off your clothing, the sooner I can take them to be washed. The sooner I can take them to be washed, the sooner I leave. I have other things I must do before I rest.”

The furnace that was my face only burned hotter as she said this before I sighed in defeat. “Fine,” I said as I quickly pulled off my hoodie and shirt before tossing them at her.

My body was nothing special; I used to do about a hundred push ups a day back at home, meaning that I had a chest that was slightly built. I hardly ever did crunches, though, so my stomach was flat with only the slightest hint of muscle. I had definition in my arms, but they weren’t anything compared to Barry Sanders’ in his prime. A faint glow rested where my heart was, the unnatural luminescence emanating past my skin like a weak flame.

Next to go off were my socks and belt. I removed my knife before taking off my belt, of course. When they were added to the growing pile of dirtied clothes, I began fishing around in my cluttered pockets. I pulled out my cracked iPhone and my red stone. The stone glowed faintly as it came in contact with my skin, making me feel a bit light-headed before I placed it on the floor with my phone and my knife.

I untied the sack o’ gold that hung from one of my belt straps and shook it slightly, finding comfort in the fact that when I got out of this accursed land, I’d be rich. That thought certainly took my mind off of the awkward situation I found myself in as Marzia patiently waited for me to remove my jeans. When I did, though...

“...” she said as she stared. Her eyebrow somehow raising itself higher along her forehead.

“What?” I asked in response as I looked down at myself. “Somethin’ wrong?”

Marzia cast an unimpressed stare at my lower body before speaking slowly. “Mr. Ladarion. What is that?”

“What, this?” I said as I placed a hand on the object she was describing.

“Yes, that.”

I rubbed the back of my neck as I looked away, feeling slightly on the spot. “Well, you see, these are what my people call basketball shorts, Cocoa. I tend to wear them underneath my jeans just in case I gotta run or somethin’. Sometimes I wear them simply so I don’t have to wear a belt.”

“But you have a belt, Mr. Ladarion.”

“True, but I just like wearin’ ‘em. It’s not like most people are gonna see me without my pants on anyway, ya dig?”

“What is with you and this ‘digging’?”

“It’s a manner of expression where I’m from.”

Marzia rolled her eyes. “Will you please hurry up, Mr. Ladarion. We don’t have all day.”

I jumped slightly, feeling uncomfortable with her in the same room as I did this. I looked in another direction as I pulled down my shorts and kicked them into the pile.

“Really?” Marzia said as I looked back to her in confusion. “Disregarding the hearts on your apparel, what is with all of the clothing?” she was growing impatient, so I did the one thing that helped me stay calm and collected in odd situations: I joked.

“Cocoa, if there is one thing you gotta know about my race it is this: Humans are like onions; they have layers.” It was lame, I know, but it helped me lighten the mood for myself.

“Hurry. Up.” Marzia narrowed her eyes as she said this.

“Okay, fine.” With that, I finally pulled down my heart-covered boxers.

A few minutes later, I was sitting alone in the bathroom, soaking up the lukewarm, sud-filled water in the tub. I had already thoroughly scrubbed myself clean and was now simply reveling in the feeling of the water and my restored cleanliness.

I thought back to the last few minutes with a smug smile on my face. Marzia’s expression was priceless. I didn’t know jaws could drop that low, to be honest. Seriously, who’d’ve guessed that much sand could fit in a guy’s underpants? It was unreal!

As she was out cleaning my clothes, muttering something about not being paid enough for her job before she left, I grabbed my phone off of the floor, toying with it in hopes of being able to possibly salvage something from it. I wanted to speak to my sister again to see whether she was okay. I didn’t want her worrying about my sudden disappearance for no reason, after all. I picked up the red stone and played with it, the object as cold as a corpse in the Antarctic.

After over two dozen tries to get my phone to show any sign of functioning, I was beyond frustrated, now realizing that I likely wouldn’t be able to speak to her until I returned. The thought angered me as my hand tightened around the red stone in my palm, the stone glowing just as brightly as my heart while I fumed. I grit my teeth as I felt a stinging pain nearly pull me from my thoughts, looking down to my palm to see the fist I had around the rock crackling with small amounts of red electricity that reminded me of the same electricity the spirit in the monkey caves had used.

Steam rose from my hand, the electricity turning the water to vapor. ‘When I get my hands on him…,” I thought to myself. ‘...I’ll make him regret the day he fucked with me and my stuff.’

A red hue bled into my vision, staining the world a frightening shade of crimson as I smelled the stink of searing flesh. Just imagining not having any chance at contact with my world made me feel even more angry and hopeless than I was, and I wasn’t in a forgiving mood after Barney deliberately severed the one link I had to my sister or anyone else on Earth.

My skull throbbed as the mad laughter I remembered from the forest once again echoed in my mind, this time louder than ever. I felt something writhing around in my head, nearly making me scream out in agony. I bared my teeth as my head pounded, reaching up to my face with the hand that wasn’t gloved in voltage to hold it.

As my pain escalated, so did the laughter and the force of whatever was swimming around in my head. More of my skin peeled from the flesh under the intense barrage of electricity as the intensity was upped, the red stone glowing its unholy glow yet again as I felt it sap the power out of my body.

A shout escaped from me as I felt my eyes nearly roll into the back of my head from the pain of it all. I didn’t hear the door open during my squirming, but as the crescendo of my agony reached its zenith along with the insane cackling, I heard a gasp sound from behind me.

Like that, everything began to feel somewhat fuzzy as the stone stopped sapping my energy away from me and my heart stopped glowing. I still smelled an odor akin to that of singed skin, but that was at the back of my mind at the moment as I came down from my terrifying high. At that moment, I decided I was going to find the deepest river in the land and toss the damnable stone into it to ensure I would never see it again.

I was startled out of my shocked state - no pun intended - when a salvo of hoofsteps ran up behind me and my head was pulled above the water. I didn’t even realize that I had managed to slip beneath the surface!

I coughed and sputtered, looking up into the frightened eyes of Marzia as she seemed to be about two seconds from freaking out. To be honest, after all that I was beyond scared too. I don’t like to admit that, but I was.

“W-what happened?” I asked, gasping for air.

“I’ve no clue! I walked in to tell you that I had towels for you, only to find you being electrocuted and falling into the water!” she was breathing quite heavily, likely from the adrenaline born from fear that she’d gained from seeing the unnatural spectacle.

“Oh,” I responded simply, still very caught up in the last few seconds.

“Since when did your eyes glow red, Ladarion?” she asked, moving my head in a way to make sure that I didn’t drown on any water that I may have inhaled while still staring at my face.

I coughed into a burnt hand, blinking as I felt the last of the red tint leaving my eyes along with the pain in my head being reduced to a dull headache. Before I could move to respond, the maid gasped again. “Mr. Ladarion, your hand! It-it’s seared! We must get you to the nurse right away!”

The pony attempted to pull me out of the water before I pulled away from her grasp. At her questioning glance, I pointed to the towels lying on the floor. She quickly nodded before moving over to the items and bringing them back to me, averting her eyes this time as I stepped out of the water to grab at them with my good hand.

I wrapped the largest of the two around my waist before actually drying myself off with the smaller towel to ensure I didn’t slip on any water I would have tracked through the house’s marble floors, my heart still glowing somewhat and my hand tingling in response. I decided to leave my sack o' gold and my knife behind for the time being, asking Marzia if she could send someone to put it somewhere safe. Luckily, she said there was a safe in the room that I was supposed to spend the night in and she told me she could get one of the guards on duty to deliver the items safely to my room after we visited the nurse's office.

Now fully dried, I nodded toward Marzia and she led me to our destination. I couldn’t help but shake my head at the fact that Nahive had actually put money into building a medical facility, no matter how small, into his house. His family must be rowdier than I’d thought for one to be needed.

I didn’t feel like asking anything of Marzia, considering I was still a bit shaken from the experience and she’d nearly witnessed what, to an outsider looking in, was attempted suicide. I still had my phone in my unharmed hand while the injured one still carried the stone.

I couldn’t remember bending down to pick the stone back up when I set it aside.

We made our way to the nurse’s office, Marzia politely knocking on the door despite the sign on the front saying “Cerrado”. Going off the fact that it was past midnight and that offices such as this tend to be closed after such a time, I wasn't guessing that the sign meant "Open". I could tell the maid was trying her best not to lose her composure after all that she’d seen, but I knew that if I were to bring it up, I’d likely cause the both of us to crack.

“Dios mio,” I faintly heard inside the room. “Coming, coming!” A few hoofsteps sounded against the marble floor on the inside of the room before the door was pulled open, revealing a short, pudgy mare with a physician lab coat thrown over her body and a stethoscope hanging from her neck. The mare had dark purple hair covering a horn protruding from her forehead that contrasted with her lighter lavender shade of fur, and seemed to be a good bit older than the young maid by my side, likely middle aged as she had wrinkles settling into her otherwise flawless skin. “Marzia! Can you not read what the sign says?” she asked impatiently, giving the maid a scornful glare.

“Y-yes, Mrs. Higher. I just had to tell you of an accide-,” Marzia blurted out before the nurse interrupted her.

“That’s Miss Higher. You know I’m no longer married. Now get on with what it is you must tell me,” she snarled before waving for Marzia to continue as she toyed with her stethoscope.

“W-well, you see, Mr. Ladarion here needs your help with-,” and again she was interrupted by the disruptive nurse as Miss Higher turned toward me.

“And who would this be?” she asked glancing up at me.

“Oh, this is-,” BOOM! Third time interrupted!

“Allow him to speak for himself, Marzia,” said Miss Holier-Than-Thou before she once again regarded me with irritated eyes, still toying with her stethoscope. “Well?”

I’d dealt with bosses like this in the past. Irritable, rude, and generally unpleasant to be around. I knew the drill, so I was sure to have the answer waiting on my lips for when the question was asked. “My name’s Ladarion, ma’am.” See? I can speak in a way that ain’t completely brainless.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Ladarion. You may call me Miss Higher.” She actually took her hoof off of her stethoscope for the first time since we’d met so she could offer it to me in a friendly gesture.

Surprised that she wasn’t slapping me or anything given her...heated nature from what I’d seen, I moved to grasp her hoof with my hand, shaking it lightly before releasing it so she could go back to messing with her stethoscope. “Now why are you here?” she demanded.

“I’m here for a check up. Sudden case of second-degree burns and the disturbing outcome thereof,” I said as I lifted my pinkish hand up for her viewing pleasure. Weird. I’m pretty sure the burns were worse than that earlier.

The nurse looked at the off-colored extremity before humming to herself. “Well, are you going to simply stand there or are you stepping inside?” she barked as she pushed the door open.

I wasn’t even willing to make a big deal out of her holding the door open for me this time, settling on quickly walking inside before she got any more annoyed.

The nurse turned back to Marzia. “Thank you for your aid, Marzia. Now go and do whatever it is you do around this place, for I I must now take it from here.” She shut the door before Marzia could get a proper response in, turning to me with a soft frown on her face.

“Now, Ladarion. This is what must be done concerning your injuries…”

Well, I could say what I want about Miss Higher, but she certainly knew how to do her job. She rubbed down the affected area with ointment - after wrestling the rock out of my hand - and wrapped it up with a few cotton balls, gauze, and white cloth wraps to go over the gauze.

I asked her how she was lifting objects up without touching them, slightly freaked out as I imagined her using the Force to choke me out if I did anything wrong, and she said the answer was magic or some shit. Not those words exactly, of course. When I noticed her horn was glowing and asked her about that, she once again said it was magic or some shit. Again, not those words exactly.

Finally, I asked her why she couldn’t simply use that “magic” of hers to simply heal my arm and be done with it. She answered me by looking into my eyes and telling me that I ask as many questions as her foals. I almost asked her what a foal was before she actually answered the question without saying magic or some shit.

“Eh, magic does not come by easily these days. The Princesses seem to have been drawing more and more of it out of the atmosphere over the past few years for whatever reason. Unicorns such as I cannot afford to throw what little we manage to gather over a given period of time away as we, along with all other creatures on Equus, require it to continue living. That would be wasteful, no?”

And again these “Princesses” were mentioned. Isn’t there usually just one princess in a monarchy? And where were the king and queen in all of this talk, is what I was wondering. On three separate occasions did I hear about these rulers: from the spirit in the cave, from Hawkeye when I was kicking her ass, and from little Miss Higher here.

None of their explanations about what was going on in this fair land seemed to be very positive. Each time I heard of them, it was talk of how they were preparing to defend against a foe, building weapons factories, or sucking up the life essence out of the atmosphere. They sounded like noble tyrants to me through hearsay, what with them wanting to ensure the safety of their citizens, but at the same time taking away what kept them breathing without their consent.

I didn’t need to concern myself with this world’s problems, though. I was going to get out of here soon enough anyway, so why invest my time in something I ultimately couldn’t control?

Now I was plodding through the hallway, my naked feet making funny slapping sounds against the cold marble floor as I looked around the mansion. I noticed a few more guards stationed at certain spots around the house, particularly Mr. Blanca’s study, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to ask them where the bar was.

Luckily these guys weren’t stuck up assholes, so thanks to them giving me directions, I made my way to the Blanca Bar - no seriously, that was its name - without a hitch a few minutes later. I know I had nearly died and all a few times since I’d gotten here, but right now I just wanted a good drink before I passed out due to exhaustion. The beer was free, after all, so I thought it’d be a crime to not drink any of it.

Upon my arrival, I noticed a tired, cream-coated stallion with a white apron tending to a bronze-colored pegasus with hair that was about fifty shades of gray. She wore a green button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and had what looked to be a pith helmet lying on the bar as she cradled a beer mug in her hooves and looked over what appeared to be a large map.

Looking around, I noticed that the place was a proper bar, with round tables and legless chairs in the middle of the room and rectangular tables built into the walls with cushioned black seats on both sides of each table. I was surprisingly able to enter without ducking my head before I was stopped by a familiar voice.

“Eh, ese! It’s good to see that you could make it!”

I turned to see Queseque smiling and waving at me from one of the tables with the cushioned chairs, a keg in his hand and another waiting across from him on the opposite side of the table, likely for me.

I moved over to the pony, still looking to the mare to notice her attention was broken from her map at Q’s obnoxious shouting before she looked to me, her rose-tinted eyes widening. These ponies’ eyes come in every color of the color spectrum.

“Ey, whattup, Q,” I said by way of greeting as I sat down in front of him. “This is for me, I presume?” At his nod, I placed my lips to the keg before downing it in one go. What can I say, I wanted to get a bit of a buzz on after all of my stress in Happy Pony Land. The beer went down smoothly at first, tasting a bit like uncarbonated ginger ale before heating up and fizzing as it hit my stomach.

“Daaamn, L,” said Q, staring at me with disbelieving eyes. “Quite the drinker you are!”

I felt a pair of eyes still on me, looking over to see that the pony I then called Monochrome Rainbow was still looking at me, her tearing her eyes away as she noticed me staring back at her.

I looked back at Queseque before coughing harshly. “Would it surprise you if I said I wasn’t much of a drinker back at home?” I asked in between coughs.

Q smiled before chugging his own drink down in one go, it seeming to go down a lot more smoothly down his gullet than it did my own. Queseque sighed as he finished his beer. “Ah~. It’s good, no? The finest brew in the land, I say! Gharfeld Groves’ Grip, it’s called. It may not be tasteful, but it surely separates the stallions from the colts, and you, mi amigo, are now officially a stallion!” said Q as he reached across the table to pat me on the shoulder.

“Oh, and where are your clothes, ese? I was growing used to seeing you in them, so it is a bit odd to see you without.”

“Cocoa went on and took ‘em to the wash. They was stinkin’ up a storm, so I’m glad she did so. That, and I finally got a good bath. I’m squeaky clean now!” I said as I rubbed my forearms, failing to properly run my hand over my bandages.

“What’s happened there, L?” he said pointing to my damaged arm.

“Oh, this? Pfeh, just shocked myself in the tub bein’ idiotic an’ all. No biggie,” I said, giving him the biggest, fakest smile I could muster.

Q’s eyes hardened as he saw right through my thinly-veiled half-truth. “Uh huh,” he said, slowly nodding his head. I began sweating a bit at the sudden change from friendly to suspicious, but luckily was spared from any more interrogation at the sound of chuckling. “I’m just playing with you, ese! It’s nothing to be worried about, we’re just friends talking over beer. It’s not like we’re enemies or anything, y’know?” he said with that same friendly smile that seemed to be perpetually attached to his face.

“Yeah. Friends, hehe…” I responded as I once again felt myself rubbing my fingers across the surface of the red stone. “But don’t you worry, I went on an’ got it all sorted out as you can see.”

Q chuckled once again. “Hmhm. Yeah, I can see that you visited the lovely Miss Higher. Tell me, how did that go?” asked Queseque as he leaned his cheek onto a hoof.

“Well, she certainly is...assertive.”

“So by that you mean she is a bit of an, uh, how you say? Oh yes! The female diamond dog!”

“The female what?” I questioned with perplexity.

“A bitch! She is a bitch is what you mean to say!” Wow, talk about obnoxious and rude. I’d been thinking that, but I’d never say it out loud, especially in polite company that I only barely know.

“Yeah. That.” I responded, looking around to make sure no one else in the room heard his little outburst. Considering that he said it so loud, I’m assuming the other two were accustomed enough to ignore him, as they simply continued going about their business, the stallion cleaning shot glasses and the clothed pegasus looking over the map.

“Yeah, Cocoa also took me there to make sure I was alright. I gotta thank her despite her somewhat cold behavior earlier, cuz she’s really helped out since I’ve been here.

The stallion’s smile widened as he leaned forward with a teasing tone. “Cocoa? I see you’ve given the nice maid a little pet name~.”

“Oh no! It ain’t nothin’ like that! I jus’ tend to give people I know nicknames. Makes gettin’ to know them easier.” My face began heating up, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t because of the booze.

The smile on Q’s flushed face stayed just as wide as it was despite my explanation, though. “Yes, I’m sure it does help you get to know others better, L. That’s why you nicknamed her.” This conversation was going in a weird direction quick and I didn’t like the destination, so I chose to tactically change it the one way I could: refilling my beer.

“I gotta get a refill,” I said, shaking my empty keg to emphasize my point. The stallion let out a small chuckle before calling out my name.

“Ladarion!” he whispered sharply, all the joviality in his tone gone as it took a strange turn toward the serious. “You see that mare over there?" he pointed to the gray-haired mare. "Be careful around her. She does not give me the most positive of vibes.” I acknowledged him with a nod before turning to walk to the bar.

I sat down on one of the undersized stools as I spoke to the cream-coated bartender, who was looking at me with trepidation as I approached, slowing his shot glass cleaning to a near halt.

“Yo, I need a quick refill,” I said, pointing to the keg in my bandaged hand before placing it on the counter.

“W-what would you like? We’ve got Cherry Blossom, Fridge Freeze, Sweet Salamander, and a plethora of other beverages to choose from,” he said with a nervous hint to his voice.

I waved a hand, him watching the movement with great apprehension. “I’ll take anything, bro. Surprise me.”

I felt a pair of eyes drilling a hole into the side of my head yet again, turning to find the mare quickly glancing back at her map, running her hoof over random locations that held no significance to me to make it seem as though she had never looked up.

As the bartender came by and refilled my keg with an orange liquid that shimmered slightly, I tapped the mare’s shoulder as I thanked him. When she froze and looked up at me again, I held out my keg, attempting to strike up small conversation with her to see why Q was so wary of her.

When she got the meaning of my intrusion, she lifted her own keg up and bumped it up against mine.

“Cheers,” I said before downing the drink, the alcohol leaving a spicy tinge in my throat.

“Cheers,” she responded as she downed hers as well.

“Ah~,” she contentedly hummed.

“This some good shit,” I said as I resisted the urge to cough once again. The mare gave me a questioning glance at that. “What?”

“That’s an odd saying, is all,” she answered, looking back down to her paper. The pegasus had a rather raspy voice that was deeper than that of the average female, but still feminine enough for me to easily tell the difference.

“So what are you here for?” she said, not looking up from the map.

“Where? Here at the bar? I’m here for a couple o’ drinks,” I replied, trying to be evasive of her question.

Unfortunately she seemed to see right through my innocent facade. “No. Here as in here. Why are you sitting next to me?” she asked, finally looking up to meet my eyes.

I looked around the room, feeling like a complete idiot for even attempting this. “No reason. I jus’ saw you lookin’ at me from across the way and thought I’d introduce myself. The name’s Ladarion,” I said, extending a hand.

The pegasus seemed to curse under her breath at my noticing her furtive glances, moving to place her hoof in my hand to shake it roughly. She nearly tore my arm out of its its socket.

“Daring Do, at your service,” she said, now giving me her full attention as she placed her keg on the table before laying both forehooves on either side of it.

“Jesus! What kinda workout regimen are you on, Ms. Do? Nearly murdered me by just shakin’ my hand!” I said as I rolled my shoulder to keep my arm from going numb.

That actually got a chuckle from the otherwise straight faced mare, her stoic expression giving way to a friendlier grin as she fully turned to regard me. “Well, I am an author. It means I get a lotta work in with this hoof,” she said. “And don’t call me Ms. Do. It makes me feel older than I already am.”

I looked up at her in disbelief after working the feeling back into my arm. I already had a burn there, I didn’t need it torn off too. “You’s a writer?” I asked, my feelings about that evident on my surprised tone.

“Well, yeah,” she said, the small smile growing larger at the expression on my face. That, and likely because she knew she was the reason I was in pain at the moment. “I don’t discuss it with anypony, but I narrate my own stories based on my adventures...under a pseudonym, of course.”

“Wait, then why are you tellin’ me this information so quickly?” I asked, puzzled at what seemed to be a faux pas.

“You’re not a pony, now are you?” she asked.

“True...but what are these ‘adventures’ of yours?” I asked in response.

Daring called for a refill for the both of us, asking for “the strong stuff” before turning back to me.

“Well, this is Sauna Pai, and I doubt you’re gonna be able to do anything relevant with this information. So strap yourself in, cuz we’re gonna go for a ride! A ride into the life of a treasure hunter…”

I looked back at Q’s spot, seeing that he was gone, the beer keg still at his seat. I shrugged as I listened in to Daring’s story, somewhat intrigued that she was a treasure hunter and also wanting to see exactly why Q distrusted her so much.

There were many stories told, and much beer was downed, but I still gotta say that this interesting turn certainly made up for all of the hardship I was put through thus far…

Author's Notes:

Thanks for reading, guys. See y'all in the next installment.

When the Daylight Fades...

I stirred the next day after being lightly prodded in the side. Hunched over the countertop with my face resting against my arms, I blinked away my lethargy. A sickening stench of alcohol was the first thing I smelled as my senses came into focus, nearly making my stomach flip as I groaned at the terrible odor. I wearily lifted my head, running a hand down my face and over my mouth, pulling it away to find it covered in drool.

“Ugh,” I drowsily groaned. That was about the most intelligent response I could make to that as I absentmindedly wiped the hand on my towel.

I looked further down the bar to find that Daring Do had vacated her seat, likely because she had enough common sense and sobriety to find her way to a bed in this huge house. I had drank so much that I just passed out right where I sat. What followed was an odd dream that I cherished every second of - something about fireworks, methinks - and being that I wasn’t in any immediate danger for once, I caught what small amount of z’s I could.

The only problem with this sleep was that when I had awoken, I felt like the world wanted to kill me simply by allowing me to retain my senses. Everything was too sensitive; the already bright colors of this world grew brighter, almost seeming to try to burn out my retinas; my sense of smell was heightened to a nauseating degree as I inhaled the tangy odor of beer, and my ears rang with an incessant white noise. None of this was helped by the obvious hangover I was currently suffering from.

Another poke from what felt like a thick broomhandle that was flattened at the end started me out of my reverie. I frowned, turning a withering glare to what I had expected to be the orange apple-bottomed pony from the orchard. Instead, I found Marzia directing a piercing glare right back at me with her large blue eyes.

We stared at one another for a few seconds before I turned away from her, resting my head on the table again.

“Mr. Ladarion!” shouted the cruel little pony.

“Agh, sonuva- ow!” I courteously retorted, nearly falling off of the small barstool as I did so.

“It is time to wake up. You’ve been sitting there long enough.”

I muttered darkly before responding, rubbing my temples vigorously as though I could massage away all of my head pains. “Can I have five more minutes, please?”

“No.”

“C’mon! I literally just said please.”

“And I literally just said no.”

I frowned at the Queen of Snark before running a hand through my hair and letting out an agitated sight.

“Too early in the mornin’ for this shit,” I muttered.

“Mr. Ladarion, it is three o'clock in the afternoon,” responded Marzia.

I did a double take at that information, opening and closing my mouth before I regained my faculties. “Really?” I asked.

The maid sat down, giving me a small nod. “Yes, really.”

I looked at her for a few more moments, hearing a shuffling behind the bar as I turned toward the bartendender as he awkwardly cleaned a few mugs. Huh. So apparently he’d rested up a bit and gotten back to the bar without me hearing him.

I turned back to Marzia before commenting.

“You sure I can’t sleep for five more minutes?”

“Ow ow! Okay, OW!”

I was led to the Blanca’s dining hall by Marzia. Well, less ‘led’ and more so coerced. I couldn’t help but cry out in undignified agitation as I was pulled into the hall by ear, feeling humiliated as the eyes of the ponies occupying it turned to the maid and I. Here I was, a man around five feet and eight inches, being pulled around by a pony that only came up to my chest. I was basically on my hands and knees as I was dragged in by the vixen.

“Good God, Cocoa! Can’t you see that I’m up by now!?” I exclaimed in outrage as I was pulled along.

The maid, who was busy hauling me to my seat in the most embarrassing way possible, didn’t even bother to respond. I could’ve sworn I’d see a satisfied smile etched upon her face if I weren’t preoccupied with the situation at hand.

When Marzia finally tossed me to my designated spot at the large dining room table, I heard a few snickers sounding out from across the way. Looking up with heat rising to my cheeks, I noticed Queseque covering his muzzle with a hoof. I glared at him for finding joy in my plight, but before I could formulate any cruel ideas on how I was gonna shut him up or get back at Marzia, a throat clearing snapped me out of my thoughts.

I turned to find Mr. Blanca coolly staring my way, taking a puff of his cigar. A mare with no horn or wings who seemed to be short and somewhat on the skinny side compared to the few mini horses I’d met since my time here was sitting next to him. And by skinny, I mean nearly sickly so; enough for even me, a member of another species, to feel a bit concerned for her health. She was a faded shade of yellow, with tired blue eyes and a green mane at shoulder length. The beginnings of wrinkles were observable on her otherwise youthful face, betraying her age. She was dressed in a casual summer dress that complimented her eyes. And by casual, I mean casual for people that were filthy stinking rich.

I found it safe to presume that this mare was Mrs. Blanca.

“I see that the dead has arisen, Sr. Ladarion,” said Mr. Blanca as he placed his cigar on an ashtray lay on the table. “Did you enjoy the booze?”

I dug a finger into my temple yet again as he spoke, still mildly irritated. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I answered. I kept my response succinct to spare my poor throbbing head of any more pain.

Mr. Blanca raised a brow. “You seemed a lot more talkative yesterday, Sr. Ladarion,” he said.

“That’s cuz my head wasn’t fuckin’ spinning the entire time!” I snapped back at him more harshly than I had meant to.

A deathly silence settled within the room, the host’s already quiet wife staring right at me with a soft frown and Q giving me a surprised glance as his snickers died out. Mr. Blanca picked up his cigar from the ashtray and pressed it to his lips yet again, lightly puffing it once more before placing it back down.

He blew a small amount of smoke out over the table before looking at me with a cool expression, his bushy moustache slightly twitching. I felt a great apprehension rest upon my shoulders as I realized just how badly I screwed the pooch. I gulped as I attempted to form an apology before the silence was finally broken when Mr. Blanca leveled his stare on Marzia, who was standing off to the side with no decipherable expression on her face as she quietly watched the events in front of her transpire.

“Señorita, it is time for lunch. I can see that now would be a wonderful time to partake in the fine cuisine of our culinary mastermind, Chef Tidings. Be sure to bring out the red wine, I am especially parched on this afternoon.”

“But of course, Sr. Blanca,” said Marzia with a small nod before trotting off to the kitchen that was right next to the dining area.

I let out a small breath of relief when it occurred to me that Mr. Blanca was being patient with me. I was worried I would get kicked out of this “La Casa Blanca” without my phone, my money or my clothes. That would be unpleasant. But I’d still have this red succubus stone that I for some reason keep carrying around without even realizing it!

I looked down to the object in question before shaking my head clear of all distractions, looking back up to Mr. Blanca to do as much asskissing as would be necessary to keep me off the streets naked and poor.

“Look, Mr. Blanca, I apologize for that. I didn’t mean to-”

Mr. Blanca raised a hoof to silence me as he picked up the cigar again, taking a long puff before releasing more smoke into the dining area. I’m fairly certain that if this place had smoke detectors, it’d always be flooded with this guy around.

“No apology is required, Sr. Ladarion, so long as you do not make the same mistake twice.” And again the cigar found its way to the ashtray. Nahive really needed to figure out where he wanted to keep that thing, in his mouth or on the table.

Still, aside from that, I gave him a shaky nod, glad that he wasn’t going to have any of his guards walk into the room and “escort” me off of the premises. For some odd reason, I don’t think I would have really enjoyed that, in all honesty.

Only then did I finally catch wind of just how quiet the dining hall was. The only person who had spoken so far was Mr. Blanca. His wife, his maid, and heck, not even his son had spoken! From what I had known about the chatterbox that was Queseque being so untalkative was certainly out of character for the lively lad. I just assumed it had something to do with family tradition or table manners.

Mr. Blanca placed his hooves on the table, leaning forward to look me in the eye. “Now! On to introductions!” he said with a small amount of forced enthusiasm.

He turned to the mare sitting next to him, who was still looking like she’d be anywhere other than here. “This is my loving wife, Carmina Blanca. We have been married for over twenty years, and her beauty never ceases to enrapture me.” He gave Mrs. Blanca a kiss on the cheek, one that she hardly responded to.

“And this,” he turned to Queseque, “is my son, Queseque. I am aware that the two of you have already met. He is the youngest of my three sons, the seven others being none other than my graceful daughters. Unfortunately, my two other sons, Edrico and Manuelle, have left town for reasons yet to be explained in full detail with me.” Mr. Blanca pursed his lips at that before turning to me. “I’d say Queseque has grown into a fine stallion, but with the way he’s been behaving, I see little point in leaving him any of my fortune if he is prone to waste it away on whorses and alcohol in but one weekend.”

I was expecting what Mr. Blanca said to have been some kind of joke, laughing a bit awkwardly at it in an attempt to dispel the growing tension in the room, but one look at Q, the friendly pony who had invited me to his house in return for literally nothing, told me otherwise. Q was looking down at the table, an expression of bitter hatred adorning his normally cheery face. I was feeling… something in the air that seemed to be curing me of the pangs of pain running through my membrane, as I noted that that seemed out of character for him.

I couldn’t properly respond to what was being said, so I chose not to speak as I waited for Mr. Blanca to continue what he had to say.

Before anything more could be said, though, in walked Marzia and a pudgy green pony with a Chef Boyardee toque atop his head and a goatee rivaling that of Terry Crews’ on his face. The appearance was completed by a double-breasted chef’s coat. They wheeled in a silver cart, opening it to reveal a mouthwateringly large array of food, ranging from salad and pasta to steak and other meaty delights…

Why were ponies serving meat?

That question was pushed to the back of my mind for the time being when the maid and the chef started piling food onto plates and serving it to us as we sat. Meat included. Aside from the obvious confusion I had about ponies eating other animals, I noticed that who I presumed to be Chef Tidings didn’t seem to pay me much mind. I wondered why that was.

All the questions I had were swiftly knocked from my thoughts the moment a plate full of assorted veggies and beef was placed in front of me, along with comically oversized silverware.
The chef walked off to the side, bowing lightly to Mr. and Mrs. Blanca. “Bon appetit, Sr.and Sra. Blan-” he was interrupted by the sounds of me noisily devouring everything on my plate.

“Oh my god, this is like nirvana to the taste buds!” More chewing. “A delight to the senses, isn’t it, my friends!?” I said to my captive audience, no cares in the world as I happily tore through the food on my plate.

Everyone sans Mr. Blanca looked on in abject horror as I greedily cleaned my plate of everything, speaking through a mouthful of orgasmic flavor… that’s not what she said.

“I’ll have what I’m having!” I shouted passionately, closing my eyes as I enjoyed eating my first real meal since I’d gotten here however long ago. When I opened them again, though, I noticed just how silent the room had once again become.

Looking up from the food in front of me, I was met with several owlish stares. My only defense for my behavior is that I’ve always been an… enthusiastic eater. Especially after I’d gone for what was probably a week without any proper food.

I coughed awkwardly, looking around the room as I ignored the large mess staining my face. Again, not what she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Q push his plate away from him as he shook his head. “You can consider my appetite more dead than Lulamoon’s stage career.”

I had no idea what this ‘Lulamoon’ was, but it sounded disappointing.

“Anyhow,” began Mr. Blanca, almost looking as bored as his wife when she reigned in her surprise at my frenzy, “You have quite the… voracious appetite,” he said as he somehow picked up one of the forks and knives in his hooves, cutting into the meat on his plate. As he lifted it to his mouth, he paused. “Why is that?” He then placed the delectable cut into his mouth, chewing slowly as he raised a brow in my direction, waiting for my answer.

I wiped the food from my face, ignoring the heat once again rising to my cheeks as I tried to claw at whatever dignity I could hope to grasp after being pulled by the ear, put into my place, and recently creeping everybody out simply by eating.

I think it goes without saying that I didn’t have much left.

I cleared my throat as I saw all eyes were again on me. “Since I ain’t yet got a foundation, I been going wherever the wind takes me. Kinda like a tumbleweed, except even less graceful. Most I’ve eaten were a couple of fruits from the forest, and that’s about it.” I scratched at my chin as I finished explaining, and Mr. Blanca’s eyes widened, for once breaking his stoic expression.

“You mean the Everfree Forest?” he asked, almost urgently.

I looked at the pony, shrugging. “I guess? I don’t much know about the layout of this area.”

“You truly are an alien. To have survived the Everfree with no scars whatsoever…”

“I’ve been in that place for about three days. Just recently got here as a matter of fact, and I’m sure Q here can vouch for me on that.”

Mr. Blanca looked at Q, who then nodded his affirmation with a small, lopsided smile that he aimed at me. “When I met Ladarion here, he was almost just walking into town, asking everypony around where the bar was. Things happened, and, well, now he’s here for the time being.” Mr. Blanca then glanced back to me, examining me up and down in what appeared to be a new light.

“You don’t say…” he seemed to have nigh completely forgotten about the meal at his nose until Marzia, who I hadn’t even noticed leave with the cook, walked back with four small wine glasses and a bottle filled to the brim with crimson liquid perched atop her slender back, secured between her wings. I was quite impressed with how well she balanced them, in all honesty.

Mr. Blanca blinked at her sudden entrance, allowing a small smile to make its way to his face as he noticed what the maid carried with her. “Ah, there is the Ghorfindum Wine I was expecting.”

Marzia nodded lightly as she took the five items and placed them on the table with her wings, manipulating the objects with her feathers as though they were fingers. She popped the cork of the bottle with a corkscrew that she produced from… somewhere, pouring the red wine into the glass on the table.

She left the bottle on the table by Mr. Blanca, the corkscrew disappearing in the blink of an eye when I turned my attention away from it, making me wonder for a moment whether it ever really was there.

“Some call this particular brand the “Wine of Introspection”. Quite a fitting name, I would say, as it certainly helps disconnect one from the outside world. Would anypony else like a drink?”

The thought of more alcohol after my aching head this morning made me immediately frown at the offer, and me finding the word ‘anypony’ rather exclusive didn’t help it any. He turned to Q, who then shook his head with an innocent smile that seemed… sinister in a way. Mr. Blanca raised a brow in what looked to be surprise before turning to me.

“Naw, man. I’ve already drank enough.”

He pursed his lips as he turned to his wife, the mare giving a reserved “Si.” in response. He smiled at that, and when Marzia approached, Mr. Blanca turned his attention to her.

“You are dismissed, Srta. Decocco,” said the moustached pony.

Marzia curtsied. “As you wish, Sr. Blanca.” She then took her leave of the room, likely off to do whatever else maids do in mansions.

Mr. Blanca took the “Ghorfindum Wine” he seemed to treasure so much and poured it into a second glass for his untalkative wife, humming a small tune as he did so. “Gracias, Nahive,” she quietly uttered as she took the glass in her hooves.

“De nada, mi amor,” replied Mr. Blanca before turning to Q and I, bottle in hoof. “Are you two absolutely certain that you do not want any of this fine wine? It is quite rare nowadays and the taste is exquisite!” His excitement for this one thing almost made me change my mind to see what all the fuss was about, but one more thump in my head made me quickly abandon that line of thinking.

“Thank you, Mr. Blanca, but I’m sure I don’t want no more alcohol. Just seein’ it is making me a bit green in the gills.”

“What about you, mi hijo? I know you are more into beer and the like, but I’m sure any kind of alcohol would sound enticing to you, si?”

Queseque’s smile became more strained as his father regarded him. “I am quite alright, Papi. Ladarion and I have already shared a few drinks prior to this and I would not want to impose. I know how much you like this particular brand of wine.”

There was definitely a strain in the relationship of this family despite how happy and functional Q made them out to be when he told me their story. Still, I didn’t want to overstep my bounds by asking about it. That, and I wasn’t overly worried about their family issues, either.

“Well, more for Carmina and I, I suppose.” He placed the bottle of red wine down on the table before grabbing his glass and drinking from it ever so slowly, savoring every crimson drop of the liquid. Queseque looked on avidly as his father drank heartily from the glass, letting loose a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Ah~. As warm and flavorful as ever.”

Upon him finishing his drink, Mrs. Blanca finally decided to place her lips to her own glass, opting to down her wine in a single gulp as opposed to savoring it.

When she placed the glass back on the table, she pushed out her chair. “I am sleeping,” she said in her airy voice. I’m guessing she meant to say ‘I’m going to sleep’, but with her not speaking any English until now, I could safely assume that it wasn’t the primary language used within the mansion’s walls.

Mr. Blanca sighed before leaning in to kiss her on her cheek. “Dulces sueños, mi delicada flor.” He picked up her hoof and placed his own overtop it, the mare nodding and pulling away from him, walking out of the dining area.

Mr. Blanca sighed again. “She has been sleeping more and more often, as of late. She seldom eats anymore.” He poured himself another glass, going bottoms up as his wife had a moment before, smacking his lips together at the taste. “It is sadly ironic that this is the glass that has torn us so before,” he said to himself before again upturning the glass.

I noticed that Q’s almost nonexistent smile disappeared when his mother walked out of the room, a flash of concern, possibly even guilt, glossing over his eyes before he, too, sighed, turning to look at the table.

“The lack of magic has slowly been desiccating the earth upon which I cultivate my crops and now I find my love life parched. Damn those Princesses and damn this alcohol. Damn it all, I say!” he swiped the glass off of the table, shattering it on the floor, before grabbing the bottle and swigging mightily straight from it without a care in the world, seeming to have forgotten that he had two guests in the same room as him. I certainly was startled at the sudden change from calm and collected to ranting and destroying things.

He reigned in his anger after drowning it with a river of wine, calmly placing the bottle down on the table before two simple words. “Leave me.”

Queseque and I stood up, me a little more awkwardly since my chair wasn’t exactly made for someone my size, and made to exit the room. “One moment!” he said right before we left. “Ladarion, your original clothing, shoes forgotten, was irreparable.” I could feel myself blanch at that, but before I could panic about having to wander about naked, he continued. “So I have had my tailor mock the design and fabric to duplicate them. Twice. So now you should have no worries about wandering about naked.” How did he use the exact same wording as me? “I understand what it’s like to want to dress to impress.”

He then waved us away as he once again lifted the bottle to his lips, me wanting to thank him for the gesture, especially without asking for pay, but deciding to simply leave him to his lonesome.

“Ey, L?”

I looked down at the miniature horse that was Queseque. “Whattup, Q?”

“It’s unorthodox, but I could lead you to your room. That is usually the job of the maids and staff, but I’m guessing with the shenanigans that went on yesterday that you didn’t even get a chance to see your guest room, let alone memorize where it would be in this labyrinth of a mansion.”

“You sure, man? I could just go and find Cocoa or talk to one of the guards. I did it before to find that bar of yours.”

“I am sure, amigo,” he said with his usual cheery smile that for some reason didn't reach his eyes. "After you get your clothes on, I plan on showing you around town. You will come to find that there's never a dull moment in Sauna Pai."

Despite a flash of anxiety I felt, I shrugged. So long as I was with someone in a family as influential as the Blancas, I should be fine, right? “Well lead on, then, pony. I’m tired of free ballin’ in a stranger’s home.”

Queseque’s expression took a turn for the sly as he picked a direction to walk off to. “You should try it more often, homes. I do it all the time.”

I turned to walk behind him before blinking. “Wait, wha-” And then it dawned on me, a shudder working its way through my body. “I do NOT want that image in my head, Q!”

Q chuckled at my flustered reaction, his little joke making the walk upstairs to the guest room I’d been given a lot more awkward than it would have otherwise been with him at the lead. I shook any unwelcome thoughts from my head as I stared pointedly at the wall on the other staircase across the hall.

We reached the second floor hallway when Q spoke again, a cheeky little smile on his face. “You seem a bit red, amigo. Are you running a fever, or are you thinking naughty thoughts?” I shivered at the lewd edge in his voice.

I coughed into a balled hand, still not looking directly at him as I responded. “Let’s just get to my room, alright? I’m tired of catching every draft that runs through this house.”

“You didn’t answer my question, L,” he said, giving his hips a little shake as he looked back at me.

My eyes widened at the display, my mind drawing blanks at the implications of Queseque’s actions. “Now you are speechless? I suppose it truly is the former, then. A bit disappointing, but you’ll get over it in time, amigo. In the meantime, we still have an entire day to bond!” When I registered what he said, I let out a growl of annoyance. What this guy would do simply to get a reaction out of me!

We continued on in relative silence, Q whistling a jaunty tune that sounded suspiciously like Livin’ La Vida Loca and me quietly simmering at his antics. I took to marveling once again at the sights of the mansion before my concentration was broken. “And here we are!” said Queseque as he hopped to a stop in front of a random door.

I quizzically looked at the door Q stood next to. “How do you even know which room is mine, Q? This hallway has enough rooms to second as a hotel for at least a dozen weary travelers.”

Q tapped the side of his head with a hoof, goofily smiling. “Memory, amigo. I only had to look at the blueprints for this mansion once before I could make my way to every nook and cranny without a problem. It is quite helpful to remember things that easily. Not to mention how me and mi hermanas used to play hide and seek when we were younger. Anywhere was fair game, so long as it was on Papi’s estate,” he straightened up with pride. “I won nearly every time I was the seeker. Oliviana and Penelope would call me a cheater, and they made sure I only got to be seeker a few times as a result, but we always had fun.”

With him seeming a bit more nostalgic as the usual brightness in his eyes faded just a bit, I noticed that the smile he had no longer reached them. Although I didn’t ask for details on his past, I found myself quite curious about his family. I could empathize with him in some ways on the aspect of simpler times with family members, where I didn’t have to worry about the world chewing me up and spitting me back out.

“Huh. Reminds me of my time spent with my sister, Tamaria,” I said as I looked down at Q. “We used to do the same sorts of things: hide and seek, tag, I Spy, you name it. We even used to play with the garden hose and - when I got my hands on a BB gun from some rich fool’s kid in another division - shoot at flocks of geese in the sky.” I looked off to some random spot in the hall, not comfortable holding eye contact for too long as I spoke of myself. “We wasn’t supposed to do either of those things, ‘cause my parents were already swimming in bills and the species of the geese were endangered, but hey, we was just dumb kids. It’s not like either of us actually hit anything with it anyway, but damn did we try. Always got us a few lickings from Mom and Dad, but we never really learned our lessons. What can I say? We was some hardheaded brats. It was the most fun I’ve ever had, though. Tamaria was one of the few people aside from a group of kids at my school that I ever really got along with. Sure we’d fight and argue almost all the time, but we’d always make up almost immediately afterward, like a brother and sister should.” I frowned softly. “At least up till recently.”

Q’s smile disappeared entirely at that. “So what happened to the two of-” he began before I cut him off.

“It don’t matter,” I said a bit more harshly than I meant to. “If there’s one thing this world has shown me other than to never let my guard down, it’s gotta be that I should never allow myself to be corrupted by idleness. All that matters to me is that I can get back home so I can reconnect the severed rope that ties our relationship together. ‘Sides, it ain’t like you understand that kind of hardship, Q. You’re rich! What problems could you have that money can’t solve?”

Q gave me a sad look at that before sighing, producing the most tired sound I’d ever heard him make. As his shoulders sagged, I couldn’t help but think of a man who once was pushed so past the breaking point that they couldn’t feel any strong emotion other than an overriding sense of hopelessness. “There are quite a few things that no amount of bits in the world can solve, Ladarion.”

My frown softened at that. “Q, I didn’t mean to sound so flippant. Sometimes, I speak before I think, and-” he interrupted me this time.

“It's alright, L, I get it,” he said as he lifted his hooves up into the air in a ‘simmer down’ motion. “Personal matters, especially those involving family members, are quite sensitive. If anything, I should be the one apologizing here. Now go and get your clothes on, you stupid ape, before daylight dies. You didn’t exactly seem too comfortable being around those Saddle Arabians last night.” That same trademark smile of his resettled itself upon his muzzle. “When the daylight fades, the red-garbed ponies come out to play, after all.”

On that ominous note, Q pushed me inside the room and shut the door behind me. I blinked as I heard hoofsteps echoing off the hallway walls, along with Q humming yet another tune. I looked around the room, it being nothing special. Just a bed that, interestingly enough, was king-sized, meaning I wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping uncomfortably, a lamp with no switch that sat unlit on a nightstand in the corner of the room, and, most importantly to me, a well-polished desk that had both sets of my duplicated clothes neatly folded on the top of it.

I stepped forward, rubbing my hand on the copies, finding that they seemed to be made of the same material as the original. “Dang, man. I guess this ‘magic’ is pretty efficient. How the hell anyone other than a unicorn holds a job on this planet is beyond me.”

Seriously, consider this: the unicorn that bandaged me up, Miss Higher, is able to lift a variety of objects with her mind and no need for assistance. If someone like Q were to do the same, they’d have to fumble around with one thing at a time with those cumbersome, clumsy hooves of theirs.

Then comes whoever duplicated my clothes. Now, I’m not sure whether they were straight up copied or anything, but handling a needle in the clothing business is the same as handling a needle in the medical field, unless these ponies have machines that do the sewing for them, which I wouldn’t immediately disregard considering the fact that I was I was held captive in a factory that was once used specifically to manufacture weapons in the middle of this godforsaken desert.

What I’m trying to get across is that unicorns with their telekinetic capabilities seem like they’d be less uncoordinated and more proficient in their lines of work. But that’s just me. The guy whose track record includes getting mauled by a manticore straight out of Freak Mythology, having his ass handed to him by a monkey, and more recently being kidnapped by a band of misfits and nearly sold into slavery. Yup, I’m the guy whose opinions are completely valid.

Anyway, after I was done fondling my clothes, I decided to drop the towel so I could finally throw them on. Thankfully they had an extra pair of undies and socks to go with everything, because I couldn’t imagine the horrible chafes I’d get without either of them considering how much I’ve walked these past few days/weeks/whatever. I shuddered at the painful thought.

I looked down to the wrappings around my forearm, peeling them back to find slightly pinkish skin resting underneath, looking nowhere near as scathed as it had been yesternight. Yes I said yesternight. Sue me. It’s like ‘yesterday night’ but compressed into one word, and it’s not like I have to justify myself in my own writing. I can write whatever I want here.

I sighed in relief at the sight. Somehow, I’d gotten some kind of regenerative healing powers since I’d gotten here. I’m pretty sure that spirit Salami had something to do with them. I wasn’t going to complain about being able to survive most encounters because of my newfound ability to rapidly heal. Hell, I hardly had any scars covering me after all of the times I’d been maimed and sliced. I still had that clawmark on my chest from Mufasa that stood out the most, but things such as the cut along my ribs, courtesy of Hawkeye, were very light and easy to miss. The more superficial scratches were gone completely.

I placed the red stone that I don’t remember picking up from the dining room table or carrying around at all on the desk, grabbing the pair of underwear and putting a leg through it. It was at that moment that Marzia decided to open the door.

“Mr. Ladarion, are you finished dressi-” I cut her off with a completely manly and dignified shriek.

“Don’t you ponies know how to knock!?” I shouted, trying my darndest to pull my underwear up to preserve my diminished decency.

Marzia’s eyes widened as she jumped at my hollering. “I-I’m so sorry, Ladarion, I didn’t mean to-”
I stepped on the elastic of my underwear, causing me to lose my balance and collide with the corner of the desk, my back taking the brunt of the impact. I let out a grunt as I pressed my hands in front of my crotch, still more concerned about my privacy than my pain. “Just get the hell out, Cocoa!” I said through clenched teeth, my eyes shut tight in discomfort. Although I could tell she wanted to do the opposite of that - her job was to keep the guests from bleeding all over Blanca property, after all - she complied, giving another small, yet flustered ‘Sorry!’ before shutting the door.

I breathed deeply for a few moments, counting to ten yet again to calm myself down before opening my eyes and picking my ass up off the cold floor and pulling my underwear to where they belonged. What an idiot I am for having forgotten to lock the door. Still, I was expecting some form of forewarning before Marzia just up and barged in like that, so I was understandably caught off guard. Oh, and pissed. Can’t forget pissed.

I threw on my black dupe jeans and a gray shirt, leaving the hoodies - that had sleeves that only went down to the elbow due to what I’m guessing was a fault of the replication magic only being able to copy the exact proportions of clothing based on their previous conditions - on the table with my other black jeans and gray shirt. Would it have killed them to put a bit of variety in the colors? I mean, seriously, they could have made the jeans gray and the shirt black! A little bit of color inversion never hurt nobody.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts before reaching for the doorknob. I yanked the door open to find Marzia a respectable distance away from my guest room. I narrowed my eyes at the equine as her face reddened, clearing my throat to catch her attention when she turned so as to not face me. “So where to, Marzia?” I stated her name as though it were an accusation. She flinched a bit when she realized I hadn’t used that pet name I gave her before bringing her expression back to its usual aloofness.

Marzia straightened her back as she got off of her haunches and gestured for me to follow, which I did without question. “I-I was not expecting you to be undressed, Mr. Ladarion. I apologize for assuming.”

“You know what they say about people who assume, Marzia. It makes an ass out of you and me.” Her ears flattened somewhat at that, but she made no move to respond. I felt a small smile reach my lips at that. I scratched my chin as I continued. “But I accept your apology. Though I wasn’t expecting you to open the door without at least knocking first, I know we all make mistakes. So don’t worry, ‘cause we still friends.”

Marzia stiffly looked ahead, seeming to force her ears to stand at attention yet again. “So we are friends, now, Mr. Ladarion?”

“Soon as you cut that ‘Mister’ crap.”

“I have no idea what it is you are talking about, Mr. Ladarion.”

I rolled my eyes. “Why you gotta be so rude, Cocoa?”

“It makes my days more interesting, Mr. Ladarion. Not to mention the fact that you are one of the few people that I have ever been able to jest with in such a way while on the job.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, smiling.

Marzia finally turned back to regard me with a cool stare. “Don’t.” And like that, my smile disappeared. Fucking ponies, man.

“So if you don’t mind my asking, what was up with Nahive at the dinner table?”

“I would ask the same of you, Ladarion,” said Marzia as she glanced back to me. “You are certainly an avid eater.”

I scratched my chin yet again, trying to ignore the heat rising on my face. “Well, it’s been a little while since I had any real food to eat. You heard me when I said I was in that forest, right?”

Marzia nodded. “Yes, I recall you saying something about spending three days there. How you survived the Everfree, I have no clue. Very few ponies ever last a night in that cursed place, let alone three.”

“Well, I ain’t a pony, now am I?”

Marzia stopped, this time turning to fully face me as she gave me an appraising once over. “You are going to have to tell me about your experiences there. I’ve only heard tale of the Everfree, and the only other individual I can immediately think of that has trekked through there unscathed is our other guest, Daring Do.” Marzia spat that name out like it was made of spoilt milk, her expression souring. “And she is thought of as a walking legend for that.”

“Yeah, from what little I remember of her crazy stories she’s told me, she certainly ain’t nobody to trifle with. I mean, I wouldn’t call what I did ‘surviving’ since it was mainly me blindly charging through a forest all willy nilly with no plan whatsoever, but Daring? She probably conquered that place.”

“She is one of the reasons we have safe paths through the Everfree mapped.” I felt my eye twitch at that. “Although the forest changes from time to time due to the latent chaotic forces that saturate its entirety , the paths usually remain unaltered. Or at least that is what I have heard.” Yeah, I knew I was lucky to have escaped that place with my life. But to know that a place changes actively as though it were a living, breathing being? That made me realize just how badly things could have turned out if I hadn’t followed Four-Eyes in an attempt to wring his little monkey neck. I never thought my violent, impulsive nature would actually get me out of trouble for once.

“So you’re meaning to tell me that this Everfree has safe paths?”

“Yes,” responded Marzia. “They are marked as safe due to their consistency compared to other parts of the forest and because the forest’s more carnivorous inhabitants generally avoid them. Know that all of the Everfree is still yet to be drawn, but foal steps are better than no steps, I suppose.” I slapped my palm into my forehead and groaned. “What is wrong?”

“I’m not saying that I’m an idiot, but I’m a damn idiot. If I coulda gotten my hands on a map or somethin’, I’d’ve saved myself so much trouble. I could have avoided having to tussle with Mufasa, for Christ’s sake! That would’ve been one less life or death scenario in my short time spent here!”

Marzia slightly flinched at my outburst. “Who is this ‘Mufasa’ you speak of, Mr. Ladarion?” she asked warily.
I tossed the red stone I had - seriously, how does it keep getting near me? - up and down in my hand. “He’s a, uh, whaddaya call it? Oh, manticore! He’s a manticore. Yeah, he had the scorpion tail and the lion head and everything.” For whatever reason, I felt proud of myself for remembering that.

Marzia’s large pupils shrunk down to pinpricks at the word ‘manticore’ before she shook her head, returning them to normal. “And you faced this manticore?”

“Yup.”

“And you’re still here?”

“Kinda.”

“And you’re still in one piece?”

“Mostly.”

“B-but you’re an idiot! How could you have escaped an encounter with a creature as ferocious manticore!? They’re the fiercest hunters of the Everfree!”

I gave her a winning smile at that. “I punched him in the face.” It was Marzia this time whose eye twitched.

“You are definitely telling me that story sometime,” she said as she once again took to trotting down the hallway that seemed a lot longer for some reason.

“How do you know so much about the Everfree anyway? You speak like someone who’s got some experience with that place.”

Marzia hesitated for a moment. “Though Equestria is in a state of discontent at the moment, the press has made sure to stay on top of all the events that have been transpiring, and they are raking in the bits because of it. If one enterprise is benefitting from the world’s unrest, it is those journalists and their sponsors, specifically Canterlot Press. They were known for exaggerating the smallest details decades ago for desired reactions, but nowadays, they simply record events and they are best sellers. They actually cut smaller details from the stories now. Unfortunately, that harms the lives of some as a result.” Marzia sighed, the frown still present on her face deepening at that sentence. “So in short, I read the news, Ladarion. Everything important is on the news.”

“Specifically the part about Daring Do mapping the Everfree?” I poked. Marzia tried to cover her darkening expression with that veil of cold impassivity she had before, and it was then that I knew there was a bit more to this story than was being told.

“Yes. Specifically the part about Daring Do singlehoovedly mapping the Everfree.” Something’s up. I’ll get Daring to elucidate, ‘cause I’m sensing some hostility originating from a certain pony-shaped maid. With that thought in mind, I decided it would be a good idea to change the topic.

“Anyway, back to the first topic, I get a bit… unrestrained when I’m hungry. So that’s what you saw at the dining room table. Still, you haven’t answered my question about Mr. Blanca. What was up with him earlier?”

“It is not my place to speak of the members of this family with complete strangers, but since you are a moron,” I let out a snort at that. “And since your mouth is as big as your ego, I am only going to tell you the obvious to ensure that you do not poke your nose where it is not needed: Mr. Blanca and his wife have been having… problems in their relationship. I will leave it at that.”

“What kinda problems are we talking abo-”

“I will leave it. At. That.” I could hear the frown in her words.

“Alright, then. That actually makes sense of a few things, at least,” I said thoughtfully. “What’s up with him and Q? I could feel quite a bit of tension between the two at the table. Nahive said something about Q not inheriting his fortune because of his ‘habits’ or something, if I’m not mistaken?”

“Again, I will tell you only the obvious,” snapped Marzia. She let out a small, aching sigh as she looked away from me before continuing in a quiet tone of voice. “He is a hedonist.” Marzia sat down, allowing a lock of her hair to drape down her face. “He drinks far more than is healthy for him, and he ‘mingles’ with mares - possibly even stallions - every time he trots into town. His callousness has been bordering on downright recklessness as of late, and I can’t help but feel worried for him.”

I sat there and ingested the influx of information that was being injected into my inquiring ichor. “Nothing truly matters to him more than what is going on at present, which is likely why he took such a splendid interest in you. Whenever we speak, he speaks almost entirely of you, even more so than the young Elten mare he is so fond of…” Marzia blew the lock of hair out of her face bitterly.

“Well,” I began, “it’s not often that you run into something like me here, I’d assume.”
Standing back up, Marzia looked back to me with a tender gaze before again moving. “That is very true, Ladarion. It is not everyday that somepony happens upon a creature of your disposition.”

When we had finally reached the stairs, Marzia and I found Queseque and two of his guards waiting near the door, but something was just a bit off about him that I couldn’t quite put a finger on…

“It is good to see you are well, Ladarion.” He greeted. He then approached the two of us and, with practiced ease, took Marzia’s hoof into his own and placed a grateful peck upon her, looking her in the eyes the entire time. “Thank you for delivering him in good health, querido. My appreciation is infinite.” He looked back to me with a smile as a red-faced Cocoa trotted out of the room at a swift pace.

“Yo, are you… are you actually wearing clothes?” I asked, identifying the oddity. “I thought you was the type that roamed around naked all the time.” I appraisingly glanced over his white-collared dress shirt and his blue vest, both articles brought together by the classy maroon tie around his neck. Of course, this being the laid-back Queseque, the dress shirt’s top button was unsecured, his sleeves were rolled up, and the tie was rather loose, giving him the appearance of a horse-shaped fratboy. The golden watch on his fetlock cemented that thought into my mind.

Q chuckled at that - the sound deep and honeyed, with a mischievous hint that betrayed a great hidden intelligence - as he adjusted his tie. With his signature winning smile, he spoke. “You are correct, Ladarion. I like to think of myself as a free spirit, unrestrained by the boundaries of clothing as often as possible.” He then sat and motioned to his attire. “This, however, is for special occasions.” Placing his hooves back on the ground, he looked up to me expectantly.

“So, uh, what special occasion would this be exactly?” I questioned, looking from him to the guards.

“Why, we are going to consummate our friendship, of course!” he responded enthusiastically, throwing his hooves into the air with childlike glee.

“How so?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“We are going out for a night on the town, mi amigo!”

“You’re really hyped for this, ain’tcha?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve got you to hang out with, L.”

I placed a finger to my chin. “Well, I can think of a reason. The main one being that there are dozens of those damned soldiers in town! Not to even mention how you yourself have stated that the Eltens hate you and your family with a burning passion. How are we even supposed to enjoy ourselves if we’re constantly being harassed by a family of fallen hicks or a group of thugs in the guise of a privatized military escort?”

I thought of my explanation as sound, but that did nothing to diminish that confident smile on L’s face. “Why else do you think these two are here?” he asked as he nodded to the statuelike guards flanking him. I didn’t respond to that one, allowing the obvious question to linger in the air. “So you are wondering how a measly two guards are going to defend us against what you’ve described as a town full of psychopaths and deviants?” I nodded. “Well, that’s it! We are not going to need them for protection so much as we will to make a statement.”

“And what would that statement be?” I asked, raising a brow at the pony.

“'We will wreck your shit if you dare approach us with hostile intent!'” That didn’t fill me with any confidence at all. “Oh, and it is primarily a symbol of Blanca influence and might. I, myself, represent the influence of my family. The guards represent our might. And with you under my wing,” he said, trotting next to me and motioning for me to kneel next to him before he placed a wing and a foreleg around my neck, throwing his free hoof toward the city beyond the door in a large sweeping motion, “we will dominate Sauna Pai.”

“Well, that sounds ominous,” I deadpanned, wedging his extremities loose from me before standing back to my full height so as to look down to the silly little pony. When he looked up to me, confidence never wavering, I found it in myself to trust him despite the fact that I knew I was making an idiotic decision. Suddenly, I felt it necessary to give him a pat on the head before speaking. “But if you got faith in this little shindig of yours, then I guess I do too. You ain’t done nothing to me just yet to make me question your intentions, so I’ll try my best to enjoy myself.”

The surprised expression that had appeared on Q’s face after I petted him morphed into unadulterated excitement yet again as he heard that from me. “That’s the spirit, L! Now,” he turned to the guards, “this is Sergeant Dust Petal.” He pointed to the mare that had a coat of darker red than even Mr. Blanca, which contrasted quite heavily from the silverish-blue armor covering her mid-section and hooves, and an open-face helmet that pressed down her snow white hair while still allowing her ears to poke out through the sides. Her weapon of choice seemed to be a pike that stood about three heads higher than her.

Stepping forward, Dust Petal lifted an armored hoof toward me. “Sgt. Dust Petal, sir. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Surprised by the lack of surprise or fear on her features - I’d gotten used to at least something of a reaction, excluding the Blanca parents and Marzia - I stared dumbly for a moment before remembering that she had her hoof offered to me. Placing my hand around it, she shook it up and down feverishly as she made an excited sound. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! He’s shaking my hoof! See, Flash, see! A real life alien is touching me!” A grin that put Cheshire Cat’s to shame set up shop on the deranged pony’s visage before she realized that she was tossing me around like a wet rag. “Oh, sorry!” She finally stopped shaking her hoof, allowing my battered form to finally find purchase with the cold, hard floor.

Dust Petal gave a sheepish grin as she attempted to help me up. Holding up a hand to stall her advance, I sat there for a moment face-down as I added yet another near-death experience to my growing list. Dust Petal gave a nervous chuckle, giving yet another rushed apology as she fell back to the side of the next guard.

When I moved to my knees, I saw a still-smiling Q looking down at me. “I forgot to mention that she gets… enthusiastic when she meets new people.”

“I’m never going to wash this armor again,” I heard her whisper as she stared intently at her fetlock with her dazzling, disc-sized green eyes.

I all of a sudden felt most of my confidence in Q’s plan dissolve.

“And allow me to introduce Captain Flash Sentry. I believe you two have already met.”

The stallion next to Dust Petal moved forward, offering a hoof of his own. “Hardly,” he said in response to Q’s statement. I looked warily at Sentry’s appendage, not finding it difficult to recall what had happened mere moments ago when I had taken the same offer. The peach-colored pony gave me an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, sir. I won’t toss you around like a ragdoll. It’s not like I even have the strength to do so even if I’d wanted to, after all.” I gulped as I reached out to wrap my hand around his hoof. Surprisingly, though he led the shake, I found I wasn’t being whipped around again like a rubber chicken.

When we broke the hand-hoofshake, I stood back up to get off of my sore knees and to put less stress on my bruised pride. The Captain walked back to stand next to Dust Petal.

“Though they’re quite animated,” said Q, “so are their military records. Both were once a part of Celestia’s Solar Guard, with an outstanding sense of duty and leading capabilities on Captain Flash Sentry’s side and unmatched fighting prowess and first-response accounts on Sergeant Dust Petal’s side.”

“Wait, Celestia’s that princess that everybody keeps on talking about, right?”

“Well, she’s one of them,” said Sentry. “Equestria’s ruled by a diarchy composed of both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean? Y’all are ruled by lesbians? How’s the royal family supposed to extend past them if that’s the case?”
Q even jumped in. “And aren’t there two more princesses after that? One had her wedding crashed by Changelings, and the other fought the magic-stealing Tirek, right?”

Flash slapped a hoof to his forehead, producing a hilarious ringing sound that he chose to ignore. “To your question, Ladarion, no, the Princesses are not lesbians. I think. They’re sisters. One rules the day and the other rules the night.” He then turned to Queseque. “And to answer your question, sir, I simply keep forgetting about those two, in all honesty. But yes, there actually are two more princesses, I just continue to fail to recognize them as such. So that makes four princesses, which makes Equestria a… quadrarchy? Or is it a tetrarchy?”

“...That makes no sense,” I said.

“Sometimes I think the same,” he agreed, shrugging.

“So, if you two were a part of the guard of an actual princess who allegedly rules the day, which I’m guessing means by extension the sun - which I ain’t even gonna bother arguing over at this point in time - what would make you want to leave her security force?”

Flash opened his mouth, only to have Dust Petal pipe up in his place. “We were kicked out!” she shouted, smiling that impossible smile all the while.

Sighing, Flash nodded his head. “Yeah. That.”

“What for?” I asked, wondering what I could find out about the princess’s guard, and her as a result.

“Well… I was kicked out for not meeting mental health standards.” Her smile grew wider with that, the expression doing nothing to comfort me in having her serve as one of my escorts. “They say shaking the hooves of everyone you meet and following them home is weird and can be a criminal offence. I have more restraining orders on me in Canterlot than there are nobles in Celestia’s court.” With that, she proudly placed her hoof to her breastplate as though that was an accomplishment worth gloating over.

“I went on a trip to that place once with my father when I was fifteen. This mare out of the blue approached us and began shaking our hooves with great fervor. Papi almost called the Royal Guard on her before he realized she was a part of the Royal Guard. Despite the security we had, she still had the gall to talk to us as though we’d all known one another since we were toddlers. When we found out she was without a job months later, we sent her an invitation to join the Blanca Security Force.”

“They’ve even taught me about this concept known as ‘personal space’. It really helps with keeping all of my restraining orders in Canterlot and Canterlot alone.”

I looked to Flash in anticipation for his story. Sighing, he scraped a hoof against the ground. “Where to begin…?” he whispered, before halting his motions and looking me in the eyes. “Do you want the long, unnecessarily detailed version or the short, to the point version?”

“I’ll go with the latter, if you don’t mind.”

“I was caught having an affair with Fleur de Lis.” Before I could ask who that was, he moved to answer the question. “She’s a model. Oftentimes considered the hottest model in Canterlot, possibly even Equestria as a whole. She’s held that title in fashion magazines and the like for well over twenty years.” His eyes glazed over for a few seconds. “She holds beauty unparalleled by anypony but the princesses themselves. The most angelic form you’ll ever see in a mare. And she’s surprisingly intelligent, too, which is what I really liked about her. A hot mare and a calculating mind, all wrapped in one delicious package that’s sure leave both stallions and mares drooling...” He hemmed when he found himself near-salivating before tapping his hoof erratically against the floor.

"So, uh, yeah. In short, I was in a relationship with one of the four princesses, yet I was dumb enough to partake in the tempting fruits of Canterlot. To avoid a large scandal, I was booted from the Royal Guard by her brother, who happened to be the Guard’s captain, a decision which was unanimously supported by the princesses, one of whom was this particular princess’s mentor, another who was saved by her and thereby indebted to her, and the last her babysitter, childhood friend, and wife of the Captain of the Royal Guard.”

“That wasn’t a short synopsis at all,” I said. “And that deal with the princesses sounds like a clusterfuck of epic proportions.”

“Oh, it was. Couldn’t show my face in Canterlot for fear that I’d be targeted by some of the more conservative groups who believe ponies that cheat in a relationship should be quote on quote ‘unsheathed’, if you catch my meaning.”

Everyone’s eyes widened, aside from Dust Petal’s, who had instead went back to inspecting her armored hoof. “‘Unsheathed’!?” Q asked, completely appalled.

Flash shrugged, allowing a nervous chuckle to escape his maw. “Well, yes, sir. They take tradition, particularly that in royal courtship, very very seriously. I’ve got a scar to prove it, too.” He pulled his breastplate down, allowing us to see a long, vertical slash on his chest. “The unicorn doctors of Canterlot didn’t want to use magic to help. They said they already had to ration their use of it, and even if they had, they wouldn’t have helped me with it. Still, they couldn’t let a patient die on their doorstep, so they brought me in and cauterized the wound.”

“Damn!” I said, Q releasing a soft, sympathetic hiss as he reached for his chest.

“That’s an understatement. It hurt like hell. I have a second one, but it wouldn’t be appropriate or professional to show it to you guys. Let me just tell you that when I was attacked, it was late at night and they… got a bit closer to the bull’s eye.”

“Dios mío!” said Q, hoof going down to cover his crotch. “What would I do without my Queseques!?”

“Yeah, what he sa-” I started. “Wait, your ‘Queseques’? The fuck?”

Q looked back to me and Flash, sputtering before looking down to the floor in embarrassment. “Um, uh… Ouch. I meant to say ‘Ouch’.”

“Ah, no need to worry, they just got me in the stomach. Well, the lower stomach to be exact. Like I said, it was pretty close to the bull’s eye. I managed to fight whoever they were off, and investigations were made for both cases, but charges can’t be pressed and crimes can’t be filed against what equates to ghosts.”

“So, uh, how’d you, y’know, get the wound closed this time?” I asked.

“Two words. Heated. Poker.”

At that, Q spoke, seeming to have recovered from his embarrassment. “I am sure we all get a bit heated when we play poker, Captain. I have had to pay for two tables at two of our very own casinos. But what does that have to do with your wound?”
The moment Flash raised a brow in a manner that said ‘Really?’, Q seemed to actually get what was being implied. “T-that’s just flat out insane!” Shouted the crazy pony.

“I was nearly killed at the doctor’s for what should have been a simple procedure on my chest. They caused more damage than my attacker had by cauterizing me and refused to even give me aid when I was bleeding in front of them. So I simply did the job myself, as crude and painful as it was. I just consumed a lot of alcohol before doing so.”

“That’s… frankly that’s horrific,” My eyes couldn’t go any wider. “Least you know you still had the balls to do it, am I right?” Surprisingly, Flash chuckled at that. Finally, someone with a sense of humor similar to my own! “Anyway, why didn’t you sue the hospital or the doctor charged with your care?”

“Oh I tried. The courts wouldn’t hear the case as soon as they heard my name, though, with most of them being nobles and by extension the more conservative sort. In their minds, I deserved every bit of pain and suffering I’d endured and then some. There was no justice for me in Canterlot.”

“Damn, man. That’s… what about the princesses? Despite you falling out of their favor, they had to have listened to your grievances, right? They had to have seen the documents for the lawsuit, not to mention the story of you being attacked in some news article?”

“I’m a bit skeptical, in all honesty. Those newspapers are run by those same nobles, unfortunately. And those same nobles are the ears and eyes of the princesses when they’re too busy running the country to be bothered worrying about what’s going on inside of it, which has been growing increasingly common as the years have passed. This whole ‘protecting the world by draining it of what keeps it flourishing’ plan doesn’t seem to be very effective, and that’s ignoring the fact that it’s completely self-contradicting.”

“Good thing I don’t need no magic to live, then.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Flash as he gave me a look one would give to someone who decided to wear their pants on their head. “Everything on Equus lives on magic. And even I, a Pegasus, can feel the magic coursing through your veins. That says a lot. The only thing off about you despite your appearance is the fact that the magic within you seems… artificial in a way. Usually beings are composed of it, they don’t simply have it inside of them. Least that’s what my Magic course taught me in school.”

I gave him a hard stare at that, one that he coolly returned. “...Bullshit.” That’s about all I could say as I felt a familiar warmth stirring inside of me.

“If that’s what you think, then that’s your prerogative.”

As I thought of the disturbing implications of what Flash said, I was torn away from coming to a conclusion as to how I felt about these implications when Q once again cut into the conversation. “Guys, chill. This is a night about eliminating stress, not generating more. We’ve already burned enough of the daylight becoming such great friends, so c’mon, let’s go out and enjoy ourselves!”

“Sir, yes sir!” Flash and Dust Petal both said simultaneously, placing their hooves to their foreheads. With that, Q led the two guards outside as he held the door open for them, showing the sun outside falling slowly toward the earth, angled to descend behind the extensive Everfree Forest.

I stood there in front of the door, overlooking the vast brown of the desert that was cut off by the encompassing green of the forest as, in the middle of it all, sat the small town of Sauna Pai, with me as an even smaller part of that. As the scale of what little of the world I’d explored hit me, I could feel how insignificant I was in comparison to the largeness of my surroundings. How must these ponies feel if this is the case for me? I wondered. With the breeze that blew inside, the drift carried both the dust across the Blanca’s field along with my previous thoughts, instead allowing me to focus on the interactions, however blurred, I had with Salamsala.

Ahh~. Fear. Pain. Hatred.

I have never felt such a surge of power, such a surge of emotion as I ever have when you arrived.

I still have great need for your services.

I believe we are going to get along quite nicely~.

I then thought to the deal we had made.

If you help me gather my power, I will return you to your home. However, if you want my word for that, you must take my paw so that we may shake on this deal.

“So… it is magic inside of me, then. What’s that mean for me, though?” I asked. This meant that the deal was constantly being altered due to its vagueness. And who was altering it? Salamsala. I was nothing but a pawn for his freedom in the grand scheme of things. That was the deal, after all, wasn’t it?

...Wasn’t it? I’m going to have to check back to the last few entries to make sure I’m remembering things correctly, because whenever I think back on that deal of ours, I feel as though something important was left out, and that it could bite me in the ass later down the line.

And through the fog, I heard a voice echoing. “Hey, Ladarion! Let’s go amigo! Do you want to stay inside the entire time?” And like that I was back, feeling a minor beat thump-thumping against my skull. Rubbing my temple, I thought back to the past few seconds, remembering nothing but a sinister laugh and wading through some kind of mist in the middle of some flooded, isolated land. Nothing to worry overmuch about, right? Yeah, nothing to worry about.

I opened my mouth to speak as the fog cleared, finding no words worth speaking before I blinked the rest away, walking outside to join Queseque and his guards.

“You alright, L?” asked Q. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something, man.”

“Nothing… Nothing to worry about,” I breathed, still following the direction of the sun as it slowly followed its path to the Everfree.

“Qué? Are you sure, Ladarion? I can call this off no problem if you are feeling unwell.”

My eyes snapped to his suddenly, causing him to flinch as I stared intently into his eyes, seeing something… caged contained within his psyche. Something having to do with a wine bottle, a pony dressed in scarlet most brilliant, and three figures whose shapes I could not completely make out. “Nothing to worry about,” I repeated before looking forward as I rubbed my temple yet again. “Just a bit of fog, is all.”

“O...kay? Are you sure you’re doing alright, L? You seem... shellshocked.”

When he approached to tap my leg my whole body tensed before I again turned back to him, this time feeling a bit more in control of myself.

“Y-yeah. I’m alright. It’s nothing to worry about, really. I think a bit of fresh air could do me some good.”

Smiling at him on the outside, I turned back around and started toward the town, ignoring his questions as my mind still felt a bit foggy.

Suddenly, Q didn’t seem so trustworthy. Suddenly, nobody seemed very trustworthy. All I could do as I brushed past Flash and Dust was focus on one thought, something of a warning: It is about time you woke up.

Author's Notes:

Forgive the funky Spanish that appears in the chapter; it's not my native tongue and I took no classes for it in high school.

...The Red-Garbed Ponies Come Out to Play

The haze had dissipated, and upon reintroducing myself to lucidity I once again found that I was in my guest room. I sat up as I placed a hand to my head, trying to clear my thoughts.

The action was easier said than done with the light rapping against my window.

Growing annoyed, I threw off the covers laid over me and swung my feet to the floor, not paying any mind to the fact that someone had taken care to remove my shoes while I was out of it while I made toward the source of the incessant noise. The curtain was torn open to reveal a set of large pink eyes. I jumped back, almost, but most certainly not, shrieking in surprise.

Daring placed a hoof over her mouth to suppress an urge to giggle at my reaction before adopting a serious expression, motioning for me to give her entrance to the room. I frowned. Sure, we had traded stories - mostly hers - over drinks about a day ago, but to me she was still a stranger. Paranoia, that same creeping paranoia I experienced when the fog had overtaken my senses, kept me from immediately doing as she asked.

I thought back to the conversation Q had with his father on my first night here. Why was it that such a friendly, carefree guy such as him wouldn’t trust Daring? Odd indeed. However, I then thought back to the largely forgotten conversation I had with her while we were hammered.

Daring tapped at the window even more urgently, knocking me out of my train of thought as she frowned, impatiently repeating the same motions for me to let her in.

Eh, fuck it. It was with this internal declaration that I moved to do as she had ordered. She didn’t seem to be so bad from the brief interaction I’d had with her, and the fact that she was one of the few people I’d met so far that wasn’t out for my blood earned her points of favor, if not trust. Hell, if she tries anything funny, I could just try slamming a door into her face.

Daring smiled gratefully as she flew on inside, and I was a little too caught up in my current thoughts to properly greet her as I made to sit on the bed. Speaking of door-slamming, I wonder how that prick Barney’s doing with his busted nose. He and the Fearsome Threesome couldn’t have gotten much further than I have… I furrowed my brows. And that means Sarif and his butt buddies ain’t too far behind, either...

I dismissed the implications of that admittedly troubling conclusion, choosing instead to focus on the pacing pegasus in front of me.

I was going to make a saucy comment on how she and I were in the same bedroom alone, but decided against it as I was not feeling particularly flippant at the moment. Instead I settled on getting straight to the point.

“Now, what are you doin’ tap-tap-tapping at my window at this time of the night, Daring?” I pressed.

Daring, for some reason with her hat on as well as a pack that was fastened around her waist as though she were ready to leave in the next minute, stopped her pacing as she looked up to me, worried. “You should leave, Ladarion. Right now.” The seriousness and urgency in her tone caught me off guard. “Just pack your things, follow me, and get out of this town as soon as possible.”

I pursed my lips. “Why?”

Daring shook her head, looking around before closing the curtains of the windows and walking over to the door to press an ear to it. “We don’t have much time, Ladarion! You have to get out of here! Just trust me!” she whispered.

“No.” I responded calmly. “This is the safest I’ve ever been since I got to this damned place, and I ain’t gonna throw that, as well as the hospitality of the Blancas, away by pissing on their kindness and running away from them in the dead of night like they’re my enemies.” I glared at Daring, keeping my voice low as well. “Now give me a reason or get out.”

Daring went back to pacing, her wings twitching slightly as she appeared to be contemplating something. Finally, she let out a sigh as she opened up her horsey pack, pulling out what looked to be a picture and handing (hoofing?) it to me. “Here’s your reason.”

I looked at the black and white photograph in my hands, trying hard to discern the ponies from one another - a difficult task considering just how similar they look to one another without their colors to differentiate - before finding my focus drawn to the center of the picture. Amongst a crowd of ponies, and more than a few Saddle Arabians was an ornately dressed, swan necked pony with more than a few pieces of jewelry around his neck and right next to him, in a button up shirt that was mostly unbuttoned with a beer mug in hand was…

“Is that… Queseque?” I asked, rotating the photograph in my hands in an effort to better identify the ponies. He and the Saddle Arabian ringleader were sitting at a poker table, cards in hoof, with a few bottles of beer next to them, both seeming to enjoy each others’ company.“And who’s this pony he’s all chummy with? He looks rather...” I paused as the memories of both the meeting between Barney and Sarif as well as the conversation between the Saddle Arabian grunt, Arib, and Queseque came flooding into my mind. I put two and two together in no time after that. “...regal.” I finished, scanning the photo even more intently, seeing a pony that resembled Jafar approaching the table.

I looked up, many thoughts plaguing my mind. Shit.

“That’s right. You’re looking at your ‘pal’ Q and Prince Yahguul of the Saddle Arabian Empire fraternising in a Blanca casino.”

“Oh, that ain’t what caught my attention,” I said, my mouth suddenly running dry. “Y’see, I already knew about the friendship between Q and the Prince. From what I’ve heard, Yahguul was a pretty laidback guy, only really worried about material possessions and hedonistic pleasures.” Daring looked at me like I grew a second head. “This may be wishful thinking, but so far nothing’s become of this relationship between the two; I doubt Yahguul even knows I arrived. However, the thing that does have me concerned is this guy right here.” I showed Daring the picture and pointed to Sarif.

“You knew about their relationship!? Do you have a brain in that headcase of yours!?"

I shrugged. "I figured Q, being the chummy guy he is, wouldn't sell me out to no one. Seriously, I've been fed, bathed, conversed with, and offered drinks here. The Blancas even went so far as to bandage me up when I was hurt and were thoughtful enough to clothe me. Ain't much reason in rewarding their kindness with suspicion in that case."

Daring Do closed her eyes for a moment, stitting down. "That makes sense, I suppose. So why are you worried about the baluk-bashi?” she questioned.

“Well, let’s just say that certain events had certain outcomes that may have this certain pony pissed off with a certain person, and leave it at that.”

“You do know, too, that what you said about the Prince’s ignorance isn’t true, right?” I blanched at that, wondering just how he could have found out anything. “He’s got ears all over the streets, Ladarion. Every bit of gossip, every new development, every pin that drops is reported back to him. Nothing goes under his radar. He may have been described to you as vain and airheaded, but the guy’s got a head for making sure nothing happens without his being aware of it. He knows you’re here in the Blanca mansion, Ladarion, and it’s only so long before he comes for you.”

“W-what do you mean by that?” I asked. “He’s got no power here, him doing such a thing could result in an international dispute, a war if the action is retaliated against to the extreme!”

“You mentioned Prince Yahguul being only concerned with material possessions and such, correct? Well, Ladarion, to him you’re nothing but property. Property that is rightfully his. I overheard him and Queseque talking about you. I’ve been gathering evidence of the illegal activities that go on here - and trust me, there are enough to fill the entirety of the court at Canterlot Castle - but recently I’ve caught wind of some ‘transaction'. You were that transaction, weren’t you?” I didn’t answer. "Queseque mentioned wanting to ‘keep you all for himself’, but Yahguul said that you were too unique an investment to leave on Equestrian soil, even saying that he had lost enough money because of you and a gang of bandits.

“You may not have noticed it, Ladarion, but the Princesses have their attention settled on other matters, matters concerning the world at large as well as the Gryphons overseas. They’re not going to save you. And with them pulling their forces back to Central and Northern Equestria, neither are any forms of law enforcement.” She frowned. “This is the Soranora Desert. It’s like the Savage South all over again. Corrupted politicians on the dime of the Saddle Arabians or other lesser powerhouses for protection against larger looming threats after being abandoned by their own nation, the expanding Everfree, and the law being only what individuals make of it. The Prince may not have ‘power’ here in the legitimate sense, but he’s most certainly got a footing, and with that the ability to influence whomever he pleases.”

I was silent for a long moment, pondering just how fucked I could possibly be if the Prince was as powerful as Daring made him out to be.

“...Why are you telling me this?” I asked, my voice clear and calm despite my quaking fists. “Why the hell were you there in the first place?”

“Neither of those questions are important. What is important, however, is the fact that we are not supposed to be here.”

“You keep saying ‘we’. What interest does Q or the Prince have in you, Daring Do?” I stood up, looking down at the pony as she stared right back up at me with a neutral expression. “Answer me, dammit! How am I to trust a damn thing you’ve said if you won’t provide a simple answer!?”

There was a pregnant pause as the two of us stared at one another, waiting for the other to back down as the tension rose with each passing second.

“Neither of those questions are importa-”

“Well fuck you, then! Get the hell out, Daring. Just go!” I shouted, turning away from the infuriating pony as I mulled over our conversation.

She narrowed her eyes, reaching into a saddle pack and pulling out a map of the layout of the surrounding lands. Using her wing, she pulled out an ink bottle before uncapping it with her hoof. She then bit into her wing, plucking a feather from it and dipping it into the ink. I watched her silently as she marked a small X over a part of the map that was named ‘Argothra Falls’.

Recapping the ink and replacing it along with the feather into her horsey pack, Daring rolled up the map and gave it to me, me taking it more so out of confusion than anything. “Place that in one of your shoes. That’s the last place anypony’ll check.”

“What?” I asked dumbly, my anger forgotten.

“We’ll meet up at the destination I marked on the map.” She opened the curtains.”Don’t make me wait.” Before I could ask her just what that meant, she had already defenestrated herself, flying off into the distance as her shadow was illuminated only by the weak moon’s rays.

I would have taken more time to consider everything that had been said if it were not for the mass of Saddle Arabians I spied waiting on the other side of the Blanca gate. My blood ran cold at the sight, my eyes widening as my heart pumped faster and faster. When my wits returned to me, I quickly tore off a shoe and placed the map inside. I put my shoe back on before running about the room, assembling my possessions. There was the rock that I still don’t remember keeping in hand, my phone, the rucksack (in which I stuffed my change of clothes as well as my water canteens and my bag of quarters), and last, but most certainly not least, my…

Where was my knife?

I could’ve sworn it was left in my room with everything else. Hell, I hardly even would let it out of my sight in my paranoia. But now? After having left the thing when I agreed, rather idiotically I might add, to go out on the town with Q, I return to find it missing!? Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. And the Saddle Arabians outside were not the only source of this pit in my stomach.

Who the hell was in my room before I woke up?

“I gotta talk to Q. Tell him that the Prince has sent troops to his very doorstep who look like they’re ready for a war.” Why did I want to tell Q before his old man? Well, because Q believed me and, in my mind, it would make more sense for a father to listen to their son than some alien stranger in such an already outlandish situation.

This just keeps getting better and better. I tossed the rucksack around my shoulders. Even when I try to take a second to breathe, this world is already tossing me back to the wolves.

Opening the door that led out into the halls, a frightening sight awaited me. There, lining the walls with weapons in hand, were the Blanca Guard, and all were staring straight at me. What’s more, I caught sight of a face that I really, really was hoping I wouldn’t see in a long while. With Arib and a guard who had a hoof in a cast - I assumed that was the one from before who couldn’t speak any English - flanking him, there stood my old pal Sarif, a grim smile on his face as he saw me walk out of my room.

“Fucking hell,” I breathed, a cold sweat breaking down my forehead. “Well, it seems as though I’ve appeared at a rather bad time, so I’ll just-” As I turned around to walk back into my room, hoping to jump through the window and regretting not taking Daring’s offer the moment she arrived, I was halted in my advance when two spears crossed in the doorway. I looked down at the two guards as they stared indifferently at me.

“Ohoho, no, my friend.” There was that same dreaded voice that I thought I left to rot in the desert. “You’ve arrived at the perfect time! I was just about to go and wake you up myself, but it appears that you are already prepared for our meeting.”

“Meeting?” I asked, moving forward as the two guards at the door poked me with a spear. I raised my hands to show that I was no threat to anyone as I advanced toward Sarif. The slimy bastard simply smiled at me, Arib giving me a skeptical glance and the English-hating cripple glaring at me with all the hatred in the world as Sarif motioned for me to follow.

“Come, creature. All will be understood when the young Queseque Blanca explains these alien circumstances.” With no other options given to me, and no feasible route of escape, I followed, keeping my hands in sight so no one would have any excuses to skewer me.

We approached the door to Mr. Blanca’s study, and Sarif and his guards backed off, the Blanca Guards taking up posts by both sides of the door, ensuring I wouldn’t make a run for it.

“Well? Go on, creature. He’s waiting for you beyond that door.” With the ever so encouraging words of Sarif, I let out a shuddering breath before reaching for the doorknob.

What awaited me on the other side, however, nothing could have prepared me for.

Author's Notes:

What's this? Story progression? A developing plot!? Impossible! Somebody stop me now before the world implodes!

Silliness aside, my apologies for the wait, but I am glad that I have waited this time around, since my head wasn't exactly giving me the best of ideas as to how to continue this story for the past few months. I've rewritten this chapter three separate times, and have gotten two rather shabby outcomes. This feels much more natural than the others, and I'm rather happy with the result. Anyway, see y'all when I see y'all. Comments and criticisms are very much appreciated.

Through the Fog

It is about time you woke up.

Those were the last words I recalled before some outside force summoned me to the waking world.

“Hello? Hello!” With the calls of that oh so wonderful voice disturbing my restful slumber, along with the light prods to accompany it, I began to stir.

Oh, my head… what happened last night?

“It is time to wake up, Ladarion.” As the familiar voice sounded through my ears, I yawned.

“Gimme five more minutes, dammit.” The response to this was a forceful kick to the ribs, shattering both my bones and my strange sense of deja vu. A pained yelp escaped me as my eyes snapped open. I found myself staring into the blue orbs of none other than Marzia, who then sported satisfied smirk after I took to glaring at her. Wrong pony, anyways. “What the hell was that for, Cocoa?” I questioned, rubbing my now aching side.

“It is nearly time to get moving, Ladarion.” Marzia, smirk now replaced by her normal stoic expression, motioned to the rest of the encampment, everyone else packing their possessions as they readied themselves for yet another day of walking. “Our journey is far from over. It will take some time, but we must keep moving if we are to hold any hope of reaching the Stone of the Twisted Drake before our competition.”

I pulled myself up off of the dirty ground into a sitting position, rubbing the exhaustion out of my eyes to no avail. “Yeah, you’re-” A yawn interrupted me. “You’re right, Cocoa. Anyway, I’m up. You can go on your merry way now.” When I noticed that she hadn’t moved after my suggestion, I growled, looking back at her impatiently. “Well?”

Marzia continued staring at me for a moment before replying. “Something seems to be eating away at you, Ladarion. For the past few weeks, you have been jumping at shadows that were not there, and you seem to be in a perpetual state of agitation.” I remained silent, my eyes hardening. “You’ve been pushing everyone away. The source of your paranoia, we all know. We all understood the risks of jumping on board this train of uncertainty the moment we agreed to aid you. But your recent change of behavior has been counterproductive to our mission. I will tell you this once and only once, Ladarion: Clean up your act. I will see this done with or without your assistance. Am I understood?”

I looked her straight in the eyes, trying to find within me the strength to defy her. She once again held her icy stare, and with it, I felt my feeble resistance shatter, the echoes of my loss sounding through the hollow landscape. I turned my head away, breaking eye contact. “Yes.” I answered. I had so much more I wanted to say to her apart from that. I don’t mean to be an asshole or to drive you guys, the few people I could ever truly call friends, away. But I can’t. It’s for the best. Trust me. Or I want so badly to tell you guys about what I know is going to happen. I want to convince you all to just turn around so we can pretend to lead normal lives again. But I can’t. It’s for the best. Trust me. Or If there were any other option aside from this, I’d take it in a heartbeat. But I can’t. It’s for the best. Trust me.

As I sat there, mouth agape in an attempt to word any of these unspeakable thoughts, I found a stray tear gathering in the corner of my eye as I continued to lie to myself. It wasn’t for the best. I deserved nobody’s trust. There were plenty of other options, but I, in my stubborn and single-minded journey, had doomed everyone I cared about by digging them too far deep into my hopeless adventure. Quickly wiping away the tear with a dirty hand, I cleared my throat, finally finding something to say.

“Marzia,” I nearly choked on the name. “I-I’m… I’m sorry.” But as I glanced up, I found she was no longer there. I nodded to myself. ‘Sorry’. Yeah, right. If I was so sorry, I wouldn’t have even considered going through this little escapade.

A sigh escaped me as I picked myself up off of the grass, the dew of the still-rising morning settled upon my clothes. I took off my shirt, giving it a few hard shakes to rid it of the gathering moisture, before putting it back on. I picked up the rolled up sleeping back I had rested my head on as I passed, setting it into a small rucksack before I scanned the surroundings of our campsite. There was an all-encompassing fog that suffocated the landscape, seeming to drain this empty place of any life, and there were hundreds, possibly even thousands, of great trees - each likely as old as the world itself - in the distance. White mist blanketed a winding stream in the middle of the swampy land, the same stream we had drifted down in order to find the clearing we had found ourselves in, as evidenced by the canoe we pulled over the land. Gnarled branches of dead bushes and nude greenery, twisted and contorted their arthritic vines this way and that around the clearing, each giving an overall sinister appearance to this otherwise peaceful and timeless place.

I approached the water, dipping my hands below the shallow surface to clean them off before throwing it into my face, the cold temperature waking me up just a bit more. I then cupped my hands, bringing the misty liquid to my lips to allow myself a hearty drink. After I felt hydrated enough, I took my water canteens out of my rucksack, placing them back inside after they had both been filled.

I then sat there staring at myself in the wading bourn where I had parted the cloudy substance atop the frigid surface. Staring back at me was a melancholy man with tired eyes. Water cascaded from my semi-tamed beard (and by semi-tamed, I mean I kept it trimmed with my knife) as I ran a hand through my large head of hair.

I look a bit like Ben Wallace. At least if he’d been to Hell and back. This thought caused me to let out a small chuckle, more so out of amusement than actual joy. As I observed myself in the creek, my gaze shifted to my wrist, where the red stone had embedded itself. The skin around the stone appeared to be cracked, but didn’t peel away or get infected at any point after the stone attached itself to my body. Flowing within was my lifeblood, the substance sloshing about freely in the confined space as the gem emitted a dull glow. The points where it had connected to my body had engrained themselves into the very fibers of my being, it seemed, wire-like filaments spiderwebbing this way and that beneath my skin with the same scarlet highlights of the red stone. My breaths became shaky as I gazed upon the unnatural ‘upgrade’ that was now wired into me.

Stepping away from the creek, I took inventory. “Backpack? Check. Canteens? Check. Knife?” I tapped my waist, finding the object in its hilt. I smiled. “Check.” I then looked around for one more thing, exhaling a breath of anxiety when I couldn’t find one of the most important instruments of my survival. With narrowed eyes, I turned back to the rest of the happy campers at our campsite, all huddled around a map.

“Where the hell is my phone!?” I asked, not at all angry as I approached the group.

Hawkeye snapped her head in my direction in surprise as Marzia and Daring Do continued looking over the map, fright painted upon the canvas of her visage as she noticed my expression. “H-hey, Ladarion! Glad to see you’re awake!” she said cautiously, her good wing slightly twitching involuntarily. The gryphon always seemed to be on her guard with me around. Good.

I crossed my arms, ignoring the greeting. “Where’d y’all put my phone?” I asked, Daring and Marzia finally tuning in on the conversation. “It was right next to me when I fell asleep for like two hours. Now it’s gone. That means one of you…” my gaze shifted across the three of them “should know where it is. So cough it up.”

“Pfft. What would any of us do with that stupid flattened brick you insist on carrying around, Ladarion? Maybe, in a usual fit of stupidity, you just happened to lose it,” responded Daring Do.

A tendril of lighting traveled up my arm, dancing along my fingertips. “You’re daring, indeed. You care to repeat that last part, sweetheart?”

Daring rose from her seated position, walking up to me in order to stare me down, ignoring Marzia’s plea to just stay sitting. “I said, tough guy, that you probably lost it in the river in a fit of your usual stupidity.”

As I opened my mouth to say something, another voice cut through the fog. “It is I, Trixie, who has taken it upon herself to take your beloved ‘phone’, Ladarion.”

I turned to regard the blue pony, sighing in relief before glaring back at Daring Do. “Don’t you believe for a singular second that this is over, Daring.” I said before walking in the blue unicorn’s direction.

“Ugh! Since when did you become such a prick, Ladarion!” She called after me. Those words stung far more than I thought they would, in all honesty, but I did need to live, after all; no matter how much I was beginning to think it best if I simply allowed myself to be relaxed and nonconfrontational, a surefire catalyst to my premature demise. Despite these thoughts, there were still a few embers keeping alive what once was a blazing flame of passion and determination. I wasn’t quite ready to die.

When I reached Trixie as she sat underneath a withered grey tree, I asked a simple question as I observed her tinkering with my breastplate - she was as much of the group's 'blacksmith', if you can call it that, as our mage. “Why?”

Trixie had been expecting to hear that question. “Trixie has been expecting to hear that question, Ladarion,” she said. “And your answer is as follows: I was curious.”

“Well, you’ve had a while to sate that curiosity of yours. Now give it back,” I said, holding out a hand.

“Not so fast. That is not the only reason Trixie has seized your item for the moment. It is meant for long distance communication, as you have told me, along with accessing large databases of information, yet it doesn’t appear to be capable of functioning in either of these capacities. Why is that?” asked Trixie, looking at me with a quizzical expression.

“It don’t matter, now does it?” I asked, growing agitated. “Just hand it over, already!”

“Regardless,” began the blue pony, brushing off my signs of anger. “This equipment is nigh useless. I would throw it into the tributary…”

“I’ll make you regret it if you do, Trixie.” I said coldly.

“...But your smoldering disinclination as of late, combined with the fact that this particular object is so dear to you, keeps Trixie from doing so.” She looked at me as she levitated my phone to my outstretched hand. “And though you would consider such a decision purely due to cruelty on Trixie’s part, she thinks it best that you let this phone go. No good will come out of putting so much of yourself into an object. Not when you have friends and acquaintances who are willing to toil through the same trials and tribulations as you, as a team, to help you accomplish your goals.”

For all of my crossness at Trixie for taking something that belonged to me, her explanation for having taken it, along with the wisdom in her words, calmed me down just a tad. I didn’t respond to her, however, giving just a small nod as I about-faced, walking back to the circle sitting around the map.

“...So, according to the map, we should be in this general area. We continue heading northwest from here, and we should come across what resembles a trail. We keep following that trail, and there should be two large stone pillars, after which, we grab this tome here and-” as Daring pulled out a large book from her horsey pack, she noticed me, her expression and tone going from professional to miffed. “What do you want?” she asked.

“I’m making sure everything’s in order. Y’all ready to go?”

“I don’t know who you think you are, Ladarion, but I’m the one who’s calling the shots. I’m the one with the experience, the know-how, and the map, so don’t go around saying you’re ‘making sure everything’s in order' as though you’ve been contributing so heartily. Secondly, we’ll be ready to go when I’m through screening the plan and explaining it. My compass has been outta whack ever since we got down here, so we’ve gotta do things the old-fashioned way.”

“And what might this 'old-fashioned way' be?” I asked, frowning.

“Looking for landmarks and hoping they lead us somewhere that isn’t our assured doom,” she replied. “Now, shoo. I’m not in the mood for talking right now, and I’ve got to commit everything here to memory.”

I spat on the ground before walking about the campground, Hawkeye excusing herself from Marzia and Daring as she made to follow me, the two shrugging and continuing where they left off. “Hey, L, wait up!”

I glanced at her as she fell in pace next to me before looking forward yet again. “Don’t call me ‘L’, a’ight? I don’t like that nickname.”

Hawkeye’s eyes widened before she made to correct herself. “S-sure thing, L- uh, I mean, Ladarion.”

Silence reigned between us for a moment.

“So, uh, whatcha doin’?” she asked.

“Walking.” I responded.

“No, I mean, what are you actually doing?” she pressed.

“Thinking.” I responded, still looking forward.

The gryphon let out a nervous chuckle. “You sure have a great sense of humor, Ladarion. I mean, seriously. ‘Thinking’,” she mocked in a bad imitation of my voice. “Priceless!” A far more genuine chuckle escaped her before she found that I had stopped, Hawkeye turning to face me, her titters dissolving into nothing. “Ladarion? I didn’t strike a nerve, did I? It was just a joke, y’know? Nothing meant to offend, or-” I cut her off as she began rambling faster and faster.

“I’m sorry, Hawkeye.” I said quietly.

The gryphon’s ears perked as she heard that, her eyes yet again widening in surprise as she processed my words before returning to their normal, but still large, size. “Sorry?” she repeated under her breath. “What do you have to apologize for, Ladarion? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

I shook my head, not taking my eyes off her once fiery orbs. “I’ve committed many sins, Hawkeye.” I sighed, finding a nearby stump to sit down at. “It’s just that now I ain’t able to ignore them in the same way I used to. And I’m telling you, I feel like only bad can come of this expedition,” I said, hinting at what would happen, hoping she would pick up on it in some way.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “Ladarion, we’re literally going to save the world! C’mon, how can you be feeling bad about that?” I stared at her. “And honestly, who cares about the mistakes we’ve made in the past? With what we’re going to be doing, we’re going to atone for not only our sins, but for the sins of every being on the planet!" A spark of guilt lighted inside of me. "Isn’t that great!? We’re going to be remembered as legends when we’re through here, and I can’t thank you enough for finding it in yourself to bring someone like me along to help with a task so important.” Hawkeye’s eyes once again had that glow that was once so familiar what felt like such a long time ago.

I let out a shaky breath. “Hawkeye, let me see your wing.”

The huge, beaming, naive smile that had made its way onto Hawkeye’s face disappeared in an instant, the fire in her eyes once again going dark as barely-contained terror etched its way onto her face. “M-my wing?” she asked. “Why do you want to see my wing?”

I stood, and with each step forward, she took an involuntary step back. I sighed. “I knew it,” I said. “You’re still terrified of me.”

Although that would only help in the long run, I could no longer bear how afraid she seemed to be every time I was around. I used to enjoy it, revel in it even, but after a while, after I got to actually know her, the taste has grown more bitter than sweet. I may have acted like a monster, but some part of me truly wished to forgive her for her transgressions against me, while a much larger part was seeking some kind of forgiveness or redemption for my even greater act of evil against her, one that I deemed necessary at the time.

“No, it’s not that, Ladarion,” she denied. “I-it’s just…” she allowed her words to drift into this vast land surrounding us as she fought to find the right words to say. This time, she let out a sigh of her own. “You’re right,” she said, so quietly that I had to strain to hear it, but when I did, it hit me like a freight train. I sat back down, feeling heavier by the second.

As I interlocked my fingers, placing my forehead against the back of my hands, she continued. “I am terrified of you, Ladarion. I mean, you crippled me, took away a large part of my life. Flying meant the world to me, and when I realized I would never be able to fly again because of a lame limb? It devastated me.” She sat down, scraping her talons across the ground. “I want to say that I hate you. I want to say that I want you dead for what you did. I want so greatly to blame you, to tell you that you ruined my life, but… I can’t.” I looked back up at Hawkeye, the gryphon close to tears. “It was me who ruined my life. Not you. So you can’t blame yourself the way you’ve been, okay? I can tell that the thought’s been eating away at you for some time, that thought along with many others. If you keep letting the vultures of the past pick away at your insides, at your being, all that’ll be left is a hollow shell.” She finally looked back up to me, that fire reigniting itself. “The moment I chose to lead a life of crime, I sealed my own fate. Now I must suffer the consequences of my own mistakes after causing so much pain. I've got to do something to prove not only to everyone else, but to myself that I'm worthy of the second chance that's been granted to me. That is why I must do this.” A few tears escaped from her eyes, and I found that even I had maybe gotten a fly or something in my eye.

I never had wanted to hug someone so much in an attempt to comfort them, but deep down, I knew I was someone who harmed and maimed, not helped and healed. However, the fact that I’d likely only be hugging Hawkeye in that instant for my own comfort as opposed to hers (she did just confess the fact that she still harbored feelings of terror toward me, after all), kept me from doing so.

As the gryphoness cried silently to herself, I turned to look away, getting that pesky fly out of my eye. “It doesn’t mean I still can’t be sorry for what I did to you, Hawkeye.” I said quietly. “Sometimes, I want to turn back the clock. I just want to make it so I was never here so I could never hurt anyone or disrupt any preestablished balance. I can’t help but think it’d be better that way.”

Hawkeye looked up at me in righteous fury, her previously downtrodden expression being replaced with determination as she walked up to me and slapped me smack-dab across the face, nearly sending me off of the stump I had sat on. Under normal circumstances, I’d’ve been beyond infuriated, but the suddenness of the action, combined with my being caught completely off guard at who did it, kept me pacified as I stared apprehensively at Hawkeye while rubbing my aching face.

What happened next, though, surprised me infinitely more.

Hawkeye then pulled me into a hug, covering me protectively with one wing as her other jittered about behind her. As she let out an anxious breath, she gained greater control of her lame wing, limply draping it over me along with the other. “Don’t say that, Ladarion,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t say that. Without you, I’d've likely been dead or worse by now. Even if it was fear that guided me into your embrace, I can safely say that I’ve become a stronger gryphon because of it. I’m ready to face the future, uncertain as it is, with you and the other friends you’ve introduced me to. But I’m not doing anything without you there by my side.”

I eventually returned the embrace after getting over my initial shock, finally letting out more than a few tears. “I never wanted to hurt nobody,” I said. “It’s just my curse. All this hate is getting to me, twisting me. The choice was never mine.”

The gryphon just patted me on the back, letting me vent. But I had no more words to say as we both sat there and sniffled, holding on to one another in one of the most twisted forms of forgiveness I’d ever taken part of. It’s too bad this good moment had to end, though.

It is about time you woke up.

Once again, that voice cut through the fog, reverberating off of the inside of my head.

“Give me a moment,” I said to myself, though Hawkeye, with her OP sense of hearing, caught what I said, moving away with a small smile before turning and walking back the way we came to get back to the clearing, leaving me in a small forested area alone. Luckily, there was a larger stream slumbering nearby. I approached, pulling my phone out of a pocket. I spent a few moments gazing over the object before deciding that it was indeed holding me back as Trixie had said, not putting too much thought into it as I tossed it into the water. No drama, no climactic event, nothing. I was just without my phone, simple as that... Simple as that...

I released a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding before turning around, taking note of just how thick the fog had gotten.

“Well, looks like I can wake up now.” I began to lose myself within it as I stepped inside. “Not as though I really have a choice.”

It is, after all, for the best.

Author's Notes:

And like that, the title of the story finally comes into effect. Takes place after Ladarion's trip at the end of "When the Daylight Fades...".

A Stained Conscience

Author's Notes:

Quick word of warning: This chapter's the edgiest in the story so far. Have fun reading.

My hand rested on the doorknob for a small hesitant second before I finally nutted up and twisted it, opening the door and stepping inside. Whatever I was expecting, it was most certainly not what rested on the other side. My eyes widened in fear as I gazed upon the bruised and bloodied form of Mr. Blanca, the beaten stallion resting upon the table with a spilt wine glass at the far end of the room, before a voice cut through my stupification.

“Ah, so nice of you to join us, L.” I turned to find Q calmly sifting through the pages of a book as he sat in an armchair off to the side. I noticed there was a cloth damp with blood resting on the stand next to him, along with two glasses filled with questionable substances. I felt the hairs gracing my neck stand up on end.

“Go ahead, mi amigo,” he motioned to the seat across from him. “Sit, if you would be so kind.”

I cautiously approached, looking at Mr. Blanca in worry. I may not have known the guy for long, but it was through his kindness that I was able to rest my head, if only for a day. “Oh, worry not, Ladarion, mi papi is still alive.” I looked at Q, a grimace on my face. “Well, alive in the sense that he is still breathing, at least. Now, sit. We have some things to discuss.”

I sat down, looking intently at my "friend" as he continued reading. “What the hell did you do, Queseque?” I asked.

“What have I done? If I so wish, I can make all of this,” he gestured toward his semi-conscious father, “your doing.”

“Listen here you little-” he snapped the book shut, cutting me off.

“Would you like a drink, L? A drink between amigos?” he asked, placing it down on the stand.

“We ain’t amigos, Queseque,” I grit my teeth, trying to burn a hole through him with my eyes. “And don’t call me ‘L’ no more.”

Queseque grimaced, the pony breathing in deeply before speaking. “Well, I suppose that’s fair. However,” he reached for a wine glass filled to the brim with a red liquid, “I urge you to take a drink, Ladarion. Who knows, perhaps it will save your life.” He sipped at his own glass, letting out a wistful sigh. “They don’t make anything quite like this anymore. And for good reason, I would wager. Like the drink we shared yesternight, the Gharfield Groves’ Grip, I recall, this separates the stallions from the foals; unlike it, however, this is reserved for special occasions as opposed to silly shows of friendship.”

“And what ‘special occasion’ would this be?” I asked.

“Oh, just the day I became the head of La Casa Blanca, assuming the leadership role of the single most affluential family of the Savage South.”

“Well, good for you! You done tricked me into believing that this property would serve as a spot of safety long enough for my pursuers to catch up with me, rubbed elbows with the prince of an empire to expand your influence, and destabilized the town of Sauna Pai and possibly the entire region of this damned country when you ousted your daddy and openly condoned the illegal activities of a foreign entity on your soil. Where the hell is the Norwegian Nobel Committee, ‘cause you are most certainly in the running to be the next recipient of the Nobel Peace Prize!”

Queseque narrowed his eyes at me, which I found to be a very odd expression considering the fact that I had up until this meeting seen him smile nearly all the time. Nahive groaned from his spot on the table, and I broke eye contact with Queseque to look back at the poor bastard.

A moment of tense silence passed before I asked a question that had been plaguing me since the beginning of this meeting. “How many lies?”

Queseque regarded me in bemusement, his eyebrows knotted. “What?”

“How many lies have you told me since we’ve met, Queseque?” I repeated.

Queseque chewed on his cheek, leaning back into his chair as he breathed heavily out of his nose. “Too many.” To think such a simple response would hold with it so much regret.

I bit back the anger building up from being so easily fooled, grabbing the armrest of my seat so hard that my knuckles turned pink. “Yeah, I shoulda known.” The words tasted as bitter as they sounded. I tapped the armrest of my chair impatiently. “Since that’s outta the way, what did you mean when you said this,” I motioned to the wine in front of me, “would probably end up saving my life? And I want the truth, if it ain’t no bother.”

Queseque swirled the wine left in the glass, looking off to the side. “The truth? Fine. It’s the least I could offer you at the moment, I suppose.” Turning his gaze back to my eyes, he adopted a stare of stone. “The alcohol I gave to you during your first stay, it was poisoned.” I was at a loss for words, a snarl being my only response to such knowledge. I would have likely beaten Queseque within an inch of his life the same way I assumed he had Nahive if it weren’t for his next carefully chosen words. “As was mine.” Now came bewilderment.

“I saw something in you, Ladarion. Something I have not seen in any other in these accursed badlands. I could tell from the moment I first met you that we were similar, even if we bore no resemblance to one another. You hold within you a flame, something that keeps you alive; something that gives you a meaning, a purpose. Benevolent or no, I was uncertain, but I needed to make certain that my impression of you was not without born of some misguided naivete. Fortunately, I was correct in my presumptions, and you were indeed an oddity in a manner past exterior dissimilarities. This concoction, Ladarion? This concoction can only be imbibed by the Chosen.”

“And those who aren’t ‘Chosen’? What would happen to them if they were to down this stuff?”

“Their insides would slowly but surely liquidize in an agonizing, irremediable process. After a few days, all that would be left would be a husk depending on how concentrated the poison was.”

“Sounds pleasant as popping off my fingernails with a corkscrew.”

“It is much worse.”

“Now how do you know so much about this here poison? And just why would you poison me simply to confirm whether or not your idea of me wasn’t unjustified?”

“Let’s just say that I have a certain guardian angel whom I believe to be watching over me and leave it at that. On to your second question… well, I at first figured that you were more than meets the eye the moment I saw that… determination in your eyes. I just had to ensure the inferno I could feel wash over me was not some form of deception.” I gave the pony a withering glare that carried with it just how crazy and stupid I took that explanation to be.

Another moment of silence reigned before Queseque sighed. “This is not how it was meant to happen.” Queseque’s once steely expression held an inkling of sadness. “We were meant to be amigos, Ladarion, this I know, but circumstance has pitted us against one another. If only, if only you weren’t the transaction Prince Yahguul had been so eagerly speaking about. If only you had arrived a few months before, or perhaps a few months after this mess. If only I could have stalled for more time! Then none of this would be happening. You and I, Ladarion, we’d be family, inseparable.

Another sigh escaped him as he vented, me listening intently with furrowed brows. “But, as fate has it, none of that will really be possible with the way things transpired. You were the transaction that Yahguul so badly wanted; you arrived just in time for all of this… shit to sully you; and I was not able to stall for any longer once the kind boluk-bashi standing just outside that door brought news of your escape. My hoof was forced, Ladarion, do you understand this?”

I thought back to that little conversation I had with Hawkeye, telling her of how she could free me and there’d be no hard feelings, telling her of how I didn’t believe in the hands of fate forcing people to make decisions. Honestly, a good chunk of that was bullshit in my mind. Hell, I’d been forced to act out without thought many a time since I’d gotten here, and when things went south, I never blamed myself so much as I did forces completely out of my control. So I guess I’m a massive sodding hypocrite, then. What a world, huh? Welp, like I also said in that little argument, it’s best to just roll with things.

I wanted to bring up that same argument with Queseque, but my morality was fucked the moment I got here; I had no right to tell other people what was right and what was wrong when I personally got a depraved kick out of others’ suffering.

But that didn’t stop me from trying. “This was all set up a little too perfectly to be an accident, wouldn’t you say, Queseque?” The diminutive pegasus looked at me in confusion. “I mean, there were the bandits, and the transaction, and finally this meeting we’re having right now. Something tells me you’re not forking over all the information you know in an attempt to seem as though you had no power over the way things turned out.”

“Ladarion, that was because with my father in charge, I truly didn’t have any power to-”

“Then explain to me why you stalled! You stalled both me and Yahguul for whatever reason, yet you make it seem as though this meeting shouldn’t be happening!”

“Well, if you’d give me a moment, then-”

“And afterward, you try to be all buddy-buddy with both me and the Prince to make it seem like you’re everyone’s friend!”

“Just let me get a word in, and I’ll be able to tell you why-”

“No, fuck you, Queseque! You fucked me! Alright?! You have singlehandedly ruined any possible chance I had at being a free man tomorrow, all for power! You’ve been telling Yahguul about me and allowed him to walk onto this property to seize something from me that is not, nor ever will be, his! Do YOU understand!?” I stood up, pushing my chair back.

“NOT EVERYTHING I DID WAS FOR POWER, YOU MORONIC CREATURE!” shouted Queseque, his formerly businesslike, if somber, demeanor tossed aside as he too stood up, eye to eye with me as he was atop the armchair he sat in. “This plan was too long in the making, and I could not allow the opportunity to pass! But then you came along and nearly destroyed it! The transaction was supposed to be for some mindless animal, not an intelligent, captivating being!

Queseque looked down, a small tear trailing down his face. The fact that he was crying served to only add to my confusion. “I pleaded, pleaded, Ladarion, for Prince Yahguul to allow you to stay! I saw you not as an animal, nor a sum of bits, but as a kindred spirit! And all it took was one night for me to realize that you, more than anypony else, could fill this empty, pleasure-seeking life I lead! I’d never met a pony such as you and wanted so desperately to befriend them! But the Prince refused, and I could not do any more than allow him to take what he wanted so that he, in turn, would not turn this town into a battleground! I feel so close to breaking from all of the pressure, from all of the awful things I’ve done! So what I got something out of it!? In this filthy world, you were something that went untarnished by the deserts! You were my redemption!”

“Well, that goes to show just how little you know about me, Queseque,” I said coldly. “I’m about as sullied as it gets, and I’ve already got plenty of blood on my hands. That you’re blind to it truly shows that I ain’t the only naive person in this room. And as touching as it is that you tried, knowing that you didn’t succeed doesn’t very much help anything. Now those ponies outside are gonna chain me up and make some kind of circus freak outta me. No amount of excuses will change that. And you can blame the lovely Prince as many times as you like, but you had just as large a hand in this as he did, far as I’m concerned, probably even larger.”

Queseque looked crushed for a moment upon hearing that, tears still flowing freely as he let loose a small sniffle. He placed his face in his hooves and quivered. I simply watched, some fleeting sense of satisfaction coming to me out of making him feel the weight of his actions.

After a long while, he released an unsteady breath while his face contorted into something… malicious. It was as though my little tangent caused something within him to snap. Queseque wiped clear his face before hopping off of his chair, approaching the table on which his father lied. “You’re right. Rightrightright, you are very, very right. So right, in fact, that my end of the bargain was made all the more simple due to just how right you are."

I warily backed away from the manic pony as he continued his ramblings, starting when he reached into his collar and pulled out my knife. “You know, from the moment we met, you have always had such a way with words, Ladarion. You’re like that eccentric reptile from way back when, Drakespeare! Haha! And I absolutely loved his work! I mean, if anypony else were to stomp on my heart in such a way, I would hardly care, but you? You’re special, mi amigo. This blazing furnace that burns inside of me? Something must be done to quench it."

Queseque approached his father, gently lifting his head as the stallion let out weak, pitiful breaths. “Mi hijo…” he coughed, spilling blood as red as the wine on the table. “I know I did not treat you well, that I was not the father you wanted me to be, but I implore you, end this insanity before its blaze consumes all of Equus. That is all I ask of you.”

Running a hoof through his father’s hair, Queseque smiled down at his old man. “Oh, you needn’t concern yourself with the problems of the future, dear Papi. Leave that for the living, eh?” He then leaned in, brushing his nose against his father’s ear, yet speaking just loud enough for me to hear it too. “The wine. The wine was meant to take your life, Nahive. As I’ve stated, only the Chosen can drink its contents. My hooves weren’t supposed to be dirtied with your blood, but as Ladarion over here says, I should take responsibility for my actions."

A glow emanated from Queseque’s chest as he said this, causing me to gape at the display. No. This can’t be right. “So I will not tell you that my hooves were forced. Instead, I will tell you that I did this because I wanted to. For every time you called me runt or bastard, for every promise you made to grant me nothing after your passing, for every moment you ripped me away from my sisters and my true mother, I only wish I could give you a longer, more proper repayment for all of your transgressions against me, this family, and the town of Sauna Pai. But for now…” He lifted his head away from the trembling form of his father. “For now, I must say adios, padre.” With that, Queseque took my knife and plunged it deep into Nahive’s neck, the pony weakly flailing about as more blood poured from the wound.

Queseque, still smiling, twisted the sharpened steel before tearing it from his father’s throat in a savage display of crimson-colored rain that lightly spattered everything in its arc, including me.

I let loose a horrified scream, having never witnessed such a horrific deed, before backing up and falling flat on my ass as I forgot in my shock how to properly walk.

I found myself sickened to the stomach at the sight, having to fight back bile as I took in every detail of Nahive’s twitching body, my own heart glowing just the same. The pony let out garbled, syrupy noises as he suffocated, me still unable to wrench my eyes from the disgusting sight.
It was at that moment that I realized that no matter how many violent movies I used to watch, they would never prepare me for seeing someone murdered in cold blood in reality. At least in TV, there’s a separation between me and the characters. They were relatable in the best of works, but at the end of the day they were all fictional. Here, though, in this land, however different from my own, everyone was real. There was no separation, only truth. And the truth was that I had just watched a living, breathing being get his throat torn in twain in some demented show by an insane pony. Funny how many curveballs life throws at you.

Queseque patted his father’s head, shushing him. “It will all be over soon, Papi. You will soon be free of sin.”

I sat there as I got my breathing under control before I heard the doors open, the clip clopping of hooves clacking against the floors as someone approached. “So I see that you have held up your end of the bargain, Mr. Blanca. Your father was something of a… hitch in the plans, you see.”

Queseque walked back to the stand, retrieving the already dirtied cloth and wiping his hooves free of the blood. “My father, Bolukbasi Sarif, was a simple pony who held close the antiquated values of his home. He was honorable, caring, and all around a good pony. However…” he turned to me, his eyes icy, “he was killed, murdered barbarically by a wild animal whose existence is unexplainable.” He placed the cloth and the knife atop the stand before trotting toward me. “YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!” he bellowed, causing me to jump and cover my face, a small whimper escaping me. Queseque drew in a deep breath before continuing. “I can find it in my heart to forgive you, though. Still, I think it best that you take this dangerous creature from my property, Captain. As you can see, my maids are going to have quite the clean up ahead of them thanks to him. Now begone, I wish not to see anypony at the moment.”

“But of course, sir,” said Sarif as two other guards walked in. He looked down to me, smiling. “You will make a fine addition, creature. You along with that trifling griffon.” And with that, he binded me, me not finding the strength or the will to fight back. With a command in his language, Arib and a Blanca Guard trotted inside. Soon enough, I was pulled to my knees and pushed through the door out of the study. I turned back to take one last look at Queseque, seeing him already back to reading wherever he left off.

I again faced forward as the door to the study was shut, still trying to shake the scene that had just played out before me from my mind, but to no avail.

What a crapsaccharine world.

Back to your regularly scheduled calamity

This is what I get for being trusting.

I tried to shake the crimson memories of what had just transpired from my mind, feeling on edge as I stared forward, not bothering to try to escape from my current predicament as I was led through the hall. My frown deepened as I saw more Saddle Arabians emptying my rucksack, one of them shaking my bag of quarters and smiling greedily at the sound.

A shank in the back. A betrayal from the one person I’d been growing to trust the most in this damned place.

We approached the grand doors of La Casa Blanca, the sounds of hoofsteps and boots clacking on the marble floors as they echoed through the strangely silent interior.

A loss of my freedom, bound here and uncertain of the future.

I saw, from behind the mass of guards, that a certain maid was watching apprehensively as I was led along. I glanced over to see Marzia giving me a concerned look. My gaze went back to the floor.

It’s about time I fucking woke up.

I didn’t bother looking at Dust Petal or Flash Sentry as I passed. Dust appeared to be just a tad downtrodden, a stark contrast to Flash’s stoic gaze. The two were standing guard at the doors, pulling them open as my entourage and I drew near. I gave the two a glare that promised retribution and a world of hurt, Flash gesturing with his head for me to continue and Arib prodding me with his scimitar to encourage me to keep walking.

I complied, walking outside to see that I was awaited by none other than the source of all of this recent madness, Prince Yahguul. He was slender, even more so than the other Red Garbs I’d seen, and he was just a mite shorter than Sarib. He had enough jewelry to sink a small canoe around his neck and forehooves, and a golden-threaded red keffiyeh covered his head. He smiled as he saw me walk down the steps, Sarif leading the group and giving a small bow to Prince Yahguul as we approached. The others did the same as he approached us, looking up to me.

“You are quite the sight to see. A big lad you are, eh?”

“For you.” I growled.

The Prince chuckled. “You will do, you will do. I still do not see the threat he could possibly possess, Captain,” he said, looking to Sarif.

“I have buried enough brothers in the desert to testify for it, my Prince. I suggest against taking him lightly, despite his odd appearance,” said Sarif as he stood back to his full height. “When I so foolishly did, I lost two good stallions.”

Prince Yahguul’s smile remained despite that news. I’d assumed Sarif had already talked with him about it over tea or something, which accounted for him not looking surprised in the slightest.

“Well tragic as it may be, we all must make sacrifices in order to get what we want, Captain Sarif, be it time, gold, or even soldiers.” A small scowl appeared on Sarif’s face at the Prince’s callous dismissal of the lives of his ponies. “I would say the reward was well worth all of that, however. All we need concern ourselves with now is the fact that the creature is here, ready to be transported to Saddle Arabia. Mother Alimada will be most pleased with this yield, Balukbasi Sarif, most pleased indeed!” All of this was said as the Prince scrutinized me, noting every detail of my face and stature. It was becoming more than a mite disturbing being stripped by almost every creature I came across.

The Prince ran a hoof along the underside of his clean-shaven (for a pony) chin as he hummed. “A fine specimen. I may just have to work with this one personally, Mother willing.” And now he was tip-toeing to Hawkeye territory. “Now, for the sake of conversation and intrigue, have you a name, creature?”

Though surprised that he had only a moment ago called me a ‘specimen’ prior to flipping and addressing me again as though I were an intelligent being, I was content to focus on anything but the spilled blood that I could not for the life of me unsee. My answer was rather short. “Ladarion.”

“Ladarion?” Repeated Yahguul. “ Ladarion, Ladarion… Fascinating! It rolls from the tongue quite differently than any name I have ever uttered.”

Arib butted in to share his two cents. “It is quite an interesting name, Prince Yahguul. I thought the same when he told me of it.”

Nodding, Prince Yahguul moved to respond before a loud clearing of the throat cut them off. “Ahem. Back to the topic at hoof, my prince?” he suggested in a strained voice.

“Ah, yes, my apologies. My eagerness derails my organization of thought sometimes. But I digress; that will have to wait for later.” Turning to me, he continued. “As you have no doubt gathered, this little arrangement of ours was made possible entirely by the cooperation of the good Queseque Blanca. Speaking of, where is the lad?”

“He has stated that he does not wish to be disturbed at present, my Prince,” said Arib.

Yahguul looked surprised at that. “Truly? Well, I will leave him to his own devices for the time being if that is the case; death in the family is never easy to overcome, I fear.”

“My Prince, while it is good to see that you are happy with the circumstances, shall we depart?” suggested Sarif, impatience on his voice.

Yahguul waved a hoof dismissively, chuckling.“Nay, Captain. I will be staying here for a while longer. There is more business here that requires my attention before I may return satisfied.” A greedy eye went back to appraising my binded form. “And as for you, Ladarion, I very much look forward to seeing you again. You are a riveting specimen, and I would be elated to see just how you tick when the Queen is through observing you herself. Our fun will be of the sort you will never forget! Now, as you may, Captain.”

Sarif and his two guards bowed, noses in the dirt. As he rose, Sarif spoke. “Farewell, Prince Yahguul. May the tide of the sands guide you.” Yahguul nodded, turning and discussing something on the topic of a commemorative gift to cement his and Queseque’s ‘mutually beneficial relationship’. A load of bull, it sounded to me, but then again I was finding it hard to care about anything going on in this damned town.

I was led to the Blanca gate, the object that once separated and protected me from the Saddle Arabians, only to find it open and crawling with the bastards. Beautiful. Was I scared out of my mind? Yes. Was I uncertain of what would become of me? Of course. Was I terrified at the prospect of being an enslaved display? Oh, absolutely.

Was I surprised that that fleeting moment of happiness and security had been ripped away from me, though…? No. No, not in the slightest.

“I want the creature bound in iron when we depart!” shouted Sarif to the contingent of guards standing at attention on the other side of the gate. God, there were dozens of them! What the hell kind of operation required that many henchmen? Oh, right, they were slave traders, and I was their latest catch. Yippee. They brought what appeared to be a windowless chariot with them as well, supposedly to help with their illegal transportation of ‘goods’ and such. Scum, the lot of them were. I thought I would have felt worse at having apparently taken not just one life, but two, albeit indirectly, but considering it was in self defense in addition to it being to degenerates who profit off of enslaving and selling others? I felt rather justified in that case. Didn’t stop a certain feeling of sickness from embedding itself in my stomach, but that may have been a result of Queseque’s betrayal and the vivid memory of him murdering Nahive that played over and over again in my mind.

“Leave him no room for comfort, and all risk of escape shall be noted and mended to ensure such an act is impossible! You!” Sarif pointed to one of the soldiers. “Fly ahead to alert the caravan to our approach! Ensure the company commander is aware of my wish to speak with him! You! ready the stocks! The rest of you! in formation!” He shouted a bunch of other commands that I wasn’t in the mood to keep an ear open for as the groups split and trotted into different directions, some toward the mansion and others into the path set for the city.

I was, however, mindful of the fact that the twenty-four strong group of thugs surrounded me and began walking in formation in a random direction in the desert. The doors to the chariot were opened and I was forced into it after a couple of guards snapped a pair of proper metal shackles that clanged and dragged along the ground around my wrists. Three guards crowded into the hot, cramped area after me, presumably to keep watch over the violent prisoner. I wasn’t going to do anything.

At the moment, I felt rather demoralized, The fact that I was still on this world wherein seemingly everything as trying to kill me; the constant fight for survival; the forces at play that I wasn’t able to comprehend that were responsible for my misery; not to mention my inability to at least tell someone at home that I wasn’t dead… yet. This all weighed me down at every moment of every day; every breath I took could be my last. I just wanted off this fucking rock. I just wanted to go home.

Usually, I didn’t have to think too much about just how little hope there was in my situation because I was in the middle of trying to stay alive, but it was becoming more and more obvious that nothing here could be trusted. I try to leave Mufasa alone, he returns and mauls me. I try to eat an apple, I get tossed out of a tree and nearly break my neck. I meet a few strangers in the desert, next I’m drugged and held captive. I hang out with a seemingly chill pony against all common sense to try to relax for just a second, and I’m in chains being dragged off to who knows where.

Hell, at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if Salamsala didn’t keep his end of the deal. It was rather vague, after all. ‘Keep it up, kid. Just let the hate flow through you.’ Sums up our conversation quite nicely. And how was I to know if Daring wouldn’t just go on her merry way without me regardless of her saying she’d wait up? I wasn’t even expecting a realistic way out of this that didn’t end with me being turned into a human pincushion if I tried running away.

Ugh.

Either way, those thoughts of helplessness and uncertainty, combined with the sanity-rending claws of fate accompanied me in my uneasy rest. By the time I closed my eyes, I couldn’t shake the memory of the bloodied blade. I felt something warm in the palm of my hand, then a numbness crept up my arm and clouded my mind.

Hello again, fog. My one true friend...

Author's Notes:

It's been far too long. I suppose that with Reverie Bound's one year anniversary we should get this show back on the road. This short chapter's meant to get me back into the groove of things, and to serve as a bridge for longer, more exciting installments in the future.

An Unwelcome Welcome

Well ain’t this a fucking treat? Me and one of the last people on the planet I wanted to see.

In all fairness, though, I didn’t want to see anybody on this planet anymore, but my point still stands. This is all I could think of as a familiar griffon was doing her best to strangle the life out of me. We were getting along well enough, all things considered.

“You won’t hurt me again! Ever! And I’ll make sure you never lay a finger on me for the rest of your damn life!” shrieked Hawkeye as her gloved talons tightened around my airway.

“Get your hands off my throat, bitch! I need that to breathe!”

“And who said I was planning on allowing you to?”

“Ach! I did!” I lifted my chained hands and grasped the enraged catbird’s wrists, twisting them as I lifted a knee to her underbelly. With a great heave and a ho, I sent Hawkeye careening bodily into the side of her bunk, the eaglelion making a pained squawk as her bandaged wing took the brunt of the blow.

Sitting up, I rubbed a hand along my sore neck, coughing. I glared at Hawkeye. “Now stay the hell offa me, and on your side of the room! Crazy fuckin’ bird…”

As Hawkeye gingerly picked herself up from the floor, she glanced at me, and through the pain and hatred, I could see a faint flash of something else… something primal. But then again, I could have just been seeing things. My mind was a just a tad bit clouded with everything as of late.

“W- what are you doing here? Of all places you could have ended up, it just had to be here, didn’t it?” she asked, her good wing twitching.

“I’m on the same boat as you, lying in some dank cell with someone I thoroughly dislike as company instead of, y’know, kicking back and relaxing on the beach or somewhere that isn’t here,” I said as I pulled my aching form onto my bunk. Say what you will about Hawkeye, but I’d be a dirty liar if I said she wasn’t fast or fearsome in a fight. Even with a broken wing and whatever abuse these slavedrivers had shown her since her capture.

“I’m in no mood for jokes, ape.” There was a cold edge to her tone that betrayed danger. It’s a good thing me and danger had become best pals, then, otherwise I would have been a lot more intimidated.

“Neither am I, Hawkeye. After all the shit you and everyone else I’ve run into put me through, I’m surprised I have an errant wisp of humor within me at all. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I’d be on the road, closer to home!”

“You’re saying this is my fault!?” The gryphon grit her teeth in anger. “You turned the Saddle Arabians on my crew; you got me captured; you broke my wing out of spite. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be out of this cell with Tony and Barney!”

A savage smirk wormed its way across my face. “And where do you think they are now, huh? Hatching some plot to save your sorry tail from the clutches of these assholes?”

Hawkeye straightened up. “Of course! We’re a team; we don’t leave each other behind. You wouldn’t know much about that, though, would you?”

Just how stupid is everything on this planet? “You think they gonna bail you out of this? I doubt that. From what I’ve heard, these swan-necked idgets have an army at their disposal devoted entirely to this slave trade they’ve disguised as a means of establishing a friendly connection with this country. You think your ‘friends’ are foolish enough to risk their necks to save yours, especially against those odds? What would it accomplish if they ended up getting captured too, because that’s what would happen.” Silence was my answer. “That’s right. Nothin’. People in your business don’t take unnecessary risks, not even for companions.

“At the end of the day, they get a bigger cut and maybe they mourn your loss for a bit before they eventually replace you. But that’s just my take on things. What I see is this, Hawkeye: I’m all you got. You’re all I’ve got. We can put aside our differences and wait for the perfect opportunity to get ourselves out of here, or they can just torture your ass for however long is necessary, because you’re the one who’s part of the three-man crew that hightailed it out of a deal with them with their dosh. That gives them reason enough to believe you know the whereabouts of the rest. The choice is yours.”

Hawkeye’s eyes furrowed as she looked away, the gears in her head spinning as she absorbed all of that information. “...You’re wrong about them. Don’t even pretend to know about us. They’ll get me out of this, one way or another. That I know. So you can stop trying to play your little mind games, creature, because unlike you, I have a way out of this. I refuse to work with something as demented as you.”

Just who does she think she is? My smile sank like the Titanic at her idiocy and her gall to call me the demented one. “Open up your eyes, Birdbeak! Smell the dust, feel the cold concrete underfoot, and pull your head out of your ass! You’re delusional if you think those punks are coming back to get you. They’re not! Hanging your hopes on them will bring you nothing but disappointment and despair. Now, back to reality, we can both get out of here much more quickly if we put our minds together and create a plan of escape.”

Hawkeye narrowed her hawk eyes, her good wing stretching out to its full length as she got into a pouncing stance. “Insult them one more time. I dare you.”

I stood up, preparing myself for another fight. “You and your friends are fools. Quite ironic that someone venerated for their keen eyesight is so blind to such a simple fact.” I hardly got the chance to finish my sentence before a flurry of feathers and talons slammed into me, knocking me off my feet and into the side of the bunk. I grunted in pain as my head was thrown into the hard floor, the griffon, strength restored by fury, relentlessly wailing on me. I lifted my forearms to protect my throat and my eyes.

Fortunately for me, I was saved from more of a beating when a pair of guards rushed to the room at the sound of the commotion. The pair opened up the cell door and one tackled the griffon off of me. Before I could thank them properly, a hoof crashed into my side, leaving me wheezing.

Yup. That’s a broken rib right there. I was hoping it would only bruise, but I definitely felt something lightly crack upon impact. I fought to regain my breath as the red-garbed ponies dragged a still-flailing Hawkeye out of the room, my poor, abused diaphragm paining me every time it expanded. I should stop tempting fate. Maybe one day it’ll actually get me killed.

Pulling myself to my feet ever so slowly, I fell right back down to my knees as the pain in my side spiked. I clutched my newest reminder for why I hated my existence as I coughed harshly, taking shallow breaths. A loud ringing that deafened me from the retreating sounds of the griffon’s panicked squawking filled my ears. I don’t think he knows how hard he hit me. With my luck, he probably did. The sadistic fuck.

I sluggishly crawled my way over to the nearest bunk, painstakingly dragging myself onto it. I took special care in keeping my injured side from coming into contact with the hard mattress.

I’m trapped. This place is a madhouse, and I’m trapped in it with no help. I looked up to the ceiling as my wheezing gave way to shuddering gasps. In my condition, I wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. That meant a halt had to be put on my plan to simply force my way out of here at the first opening in order to trek to wherever Argothra Falls and Daring were. It would’ve done me some good if I, for once in my life, just kept my trap shut. Then I wouldn’t be fighting for air. These thoughts hang heavily in my mind as I closed my eyes.

Try as I might, though, sleep wouldn’t come to me that night.

At some point the next morning, I was shaken from my fragile slumber by the rattling of keys. The pain had given me quite the headache through the night, and the incessant jangling afforded no reprieve from it whatsoever. After a moment, I was fairly certain the pony on the other side was just messing with the keys to annoy me. I would have called him out on it, but the pang of hurt that travelled up to my jaw and down to my knee allowed only a groan to escape my lips, reminding me how my mouth resulted in my great discomfort in the first place.

Eventually, the tool got the door open, and something was unceremoniously tossed inside. The door was locked shut yet again, and the voices of the guards soon faded into the distance. My head rotated to regard whatever was mewling on the ground, eyes widening in surprise to find that it was Hawkeye.

I don’t know what was done to her, what with there being no visible marks or anything of the sort adorning her body, but to find her in such a way where she was quietly sobbing and making no effort to preserve her dignity or get up off the floor left me perturbed.

A grunt freed itself from the confines of my throat as I carefully lifted myself from the uncomfortable mattress, a few of my joints popping as I did so. One of Hawkeye’s long ears straightened as the noise reached her, the griffon quieting herself down to where she only allowed a few small sniffles.

I stared for a long while. It was strange, seeing such a prideful creature meet with such woe. Maybe she finally understands how I felt when I was in her position. The thought came unbidden as I shifted in my seat, my shoes hitting the concrete. No, I don’t know what it is, but I don’t see a tormenter… I picked myself up off of the bed and slowly approached the fallen griffon. Not a thug, not a captor, not even a rival. I stood over her, descending with no small amount of difficulty into a kneeling position. I… I see—

“What?” Hawkeye asked. “You here to rub it in, this humiliation I feel?”

What came next was something that surprised even myself. I should have felt nothing but satisfaction from seeing her broken. I should have been whispering ‘I told you so’ in her ear to drive my point from the previous day home. Instead, I found myself wrapping an arm around her to comfort her. Why? That’s the question I kept asking myself as her breath hitched in her throat, clearly caught off guard by the action. She was probably wondering the same thing. As her sobbing once again returned, she leaned into my unbruised side. I thought. I thought on that question that the two of us were no doubt asking.

All I know is my answer would have been as good as hers, or anybody’s for that matter.

Some time later found Hawkeye asleep by my side on the floor. I wanted to leave her there and return to my uncomfortable bed, but the dull pain in my ribs kept me from following through with that. So instead, I opted to simply allow the birdie her peace (peace being a relative term in this instance) while I tried to gather my thoughts.

Would her pals actually pull through and be stupid enough to try to save her? In that event, if the scuffle wasn’t too short-lived, I could use the distraction to scramble off to someplace with less slave trading. There would be no telling how long I would survive the Soranora with nary a drop of water at my side and a broken ribcage, but that option beat these conditions any time.

Would she get her wits about her and realize that our best chance at freedom was working together, even if such a relationship would be strained at best and outright disastrous at worst? Well, the least we would get done is waiting around for too long and miss seizing our opportunity at escape. The most we would get done at that juncture, though, was one abandoning the other at the first chance to leave them to their fate with the Saddle Arabians, one abandoning the other should the two of us escape to leave them to their fate with the desert, or the both of us sticking together until we could rendezvous with Daring Do. Of course, that last, overly optimistic outcome would require the two of us sharing what would already be likely limited resources and putting up with one another without killing each other, but it was still at the very least feasible.

More feasible than Tony and Barney risking their cuts and their heads over breaking Hawkeye out, at least.

So no matter what, I couldn’t see myself getting out of this situation without allying with Hawkeye in some way… Shit. Why couldn’t whatever malevolent deity that sent me here just toss me a bone every once in awhile? I mean, I know I’m insanely fortunate to be alive, but I’d still like a stroke of luck that doesn’t carry with it the promise of more hurt down the road. C’est la vie and all that noise, I guess.

Little did I know, one of the few prayers I’ve ever called for would be answered.

My train of thought was derailed by yet another jangling of keys. Someone on the other side swore in that harsh tongue the Saddle Arabians normally speak in before, after a moment of deliberation, the right key was selected to allow for the door to be opened up.

Eyes snapping into focus from their place on some corner of the room, I felt a great apprehension rise in my chest as the Saddle Arabian strolled into the room, his buddy waiting outside. “My appreciation, Dehro. Now, would you mind keeping watch for me? Warn me if any other guards make their way down this hall.”

Dehro nodded his understanding as he stood his post, head on a swivel as he scanned the halls for others.

Now, by this point, I was understandably confused. What did this guy want with Hawkeye and I to warrant being cautious of other guards? Why did he seem so… familiar? Was it just too much to ask to just have a normal day in a prison cell?

“What do you want?” I demanded. It wasn’t so intimidating, I’d guess, with me being hardly able to get up and the wheezing, but I made up for it with a glare that could punch a hole through steel. “Ain’t too much I can offer to you guys outside of thinly veiled threats and the charm of a porcupine.”

To my disdain, he gave a soft chuckle in response. “Oh, the question isn’t about what I want, eh, Ladarion is it?” At my nod, he continued. “The question is what do you want.”

“To be honest, I just want some time to myself. You horses have already caused me enough harm, so I’d appreciate it if you got out.”

“I will leave you be in a moment. But first I must ask: how does freedom sound to you?”

“Like something too good to be true. Now get to the point.”

The guard smiled at that. “You truly are interesting, Ladarion. As you know, I go by the name Arib—”

“Wait, then that makes you that bastard that helped put me in here!” I exclaimed as I made to stand, the movement and the commotion causing Hawkeye to stir. No sooner than I had moved did I fall right back down, my ribs reminding me that they were still indeed broken.

Arib had backed up at my thunderous display before raising a brow at my inability to actually move. “You are hurt,” he observed.

“Not hurt enough to keep me from taking the first chance I get to wring your neck, pony.” I retorted, grabbing my side as I set my jaw.

Raising a hoof in what seemed to be a placating gesture, Arib took a step closer to me. “You’ve no reason to trust me, that much I know. But whatever is ailing you must be treated. Soon. There is no way you can survive the trek to Daring Do in the condition you are in.”

Now that got my attention. I went silent at the mention of the adventuring pony’s name. “I’m listening…”

“Ugh, my everything,” said Hawkeye as she shook her head. “What’s going o—” she turned to me and immediately freaked out, pushing herself away. “WHAT THE TARTARUS!?”

I gave her a withering glare. “Calm your tits, Hawkeye. Nothing happened. Now continue, if you would, Arib.”

The pony cast an amused glance over to the sputtering griffon before looking back to me. “Of course—” he began before Dehro tapped a hoof against the door twice, likely a warning. Arib muttered some foreign expletive, giving me a hard glance. “We do not have as much time as I was hoping for, but I cannot leave you empty-hooved. In three days’ time, we will be a lot closer to a place the Equestrian maps verify as being Argothra Falls. Do you know of it?” At my nod, he continued. “You and your griffon friend here will make your escape with the key I give you at the sound of a diversion. It will not be overly large, and it will leave as quickly as it arrives. In this time, the both of you must be well on your way.

“You will likely have to fight your way out, so be sure to take the opportunity to arm yourselves. How you do so is none of my concern.” Two more taps, both much lighter. “I am taking a large risk doing this. Do ensure my efforts weren’t for naught, will you?” With that, Arib began moving to the door.

“Wait!” Hawkeye interjected. Arib gave her an impatient look. “What do you get out of us escaping?”

He smiled, walking out of the room. “A favor.” The door locked behind him, and the hasty hoofsteps of him and his partner soon disappeared.

I noticed something on the floor. Reaching down, I picked it up to confirm that it wa the key Arib had mentioned giving us. Relief washed over me as I drew in a deep breath, slowly standing to make my way back to my bunk.

Hawkeye furrowed her brows at the pony’s answer as I pocketed the key before finally shrugging. “Well, so long as I get out of here in the end, I could care less what his motives are. And you!” she pointed at me from her bunk, glaring death at the side of my head.

I sighed, preparing for more conflict. “What is it?”

She didn’t reply for a moment, and as I glanced over to her I could see that she seemed to be contemplating whether or not she should bring something up. In the end, she huffed, suddenly finding a corner of the room much more interesting. “Forget it. We should focus on getting out of here first, then we can worry about what happened.”

If we get out of here, you mean. “Whatever. Just get yourself some proper rest. I doubt the floor is all that comfortable.”

“These bunks are hardly any different,” she murmured.

Yawning, I stretched to the best of my ability, the pangs still reverberating across my midsection persuading me not to overexert myself. “Them’s the breaks. I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse.”

Her attention shifted back to me. “Ladarion. So that’s your name, right?” The surprise I felt was evident on my face, judging from her small smirk. “I heard that guard call you by it when he trotted in. It’s… unusual. I may still call you ape, though, for the sake of being concise.”

“Are you… was that an actual joke and not a death threat?” I asked.

And like that, her smirk fell. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Like you said, it’s best we work together on this. But the moment we’re out of this place…” she left the sentence open to interpretation.

“Yeah, I’d expect nothing less.”

Here we were, finally with a common ground to stand on. Hawkeye and I realized we were better off helping one another; there was a spanner in the works aiding us in our escape from the Saddle Arabian operation; and Daring was waiting on us.

So many little blessings. It felt as though everything was finally going perfectly. Too perfectly. That may have been why it felt as though something would go horribly wrong.

It was with no small amount of difficulty that I found myself once again restlessly shifting about on my bed. Between being captured and locked up in a room with someone that was as likely to help me as she was to slit my throat in my sleep, the ebbing pain piercing my side, and the burning sensation in my hand that scorched my thoughts, I was a proper wreck.

Let’s not even mention the added effect of the disturbing memory of Queseque’s betrayal that branded my subconscious and probably would until the day I stopped breathing.

“None can be trusted,” a distorted voice whispered. I found no reason not to agree. Here I lied, body bruised, conscience addled, and pride stripped from me as I was bound to this world’s machinations. What did I ever do to deserve thi—?

“Hey, are you awake, you shaved ape?” I sighed. One thing I hate more than anything, and this is even before I was chucked into the plundered land of pony hicks, is being interrupted mid-tho—. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. I’ve got something I want to discuss with you, something about our current predicament. It’ll just take a sec, I promise.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Ladarion. This pony—Arib, I think he called himself—he’s a part of the Saddle Arabians’ snatch and grab operation based here in southern Equestria. What makes you think we can trust him or his ilk?”

You know, as far as I’m concerned, you’re of his ilk. “Nothing. Call me disenchanted or cynical, but I see very little going in my—our—favor. Still, give some thought. What has he to gain from the release of two ultimately powerless individuals such as you and I? Fame? Doubtfully. Fortune? Perhaps. A favor? Yes. From whom, we can both guess,” obviously something to do with Daring Do, “but at the moment, let’s mull over what the favor would be.

“You see, with my amazing theoretical skills and the intelligence to boot—“ Hawkeye snorted at that, “—I’m guessing it would have something to do with something less materialistic. Maybe he’s trying to achieve some form of enlightenment with the aid of whoever he’s plotting with. Maybe he’s an undercover double agent and visionary who sees the wrongs of this trade, yet, knowing how deep he is in it, wants for word to be spread of it so that it cripples Saddle Arabia’s reputation with other nations, dissolves the trade, and allows him to seek asylum elsewhere in the unlikely case that he’s compromised. Or maybe, just maybe, he’s fuckin’ with us and was sent here by his higher ups to keep tabs on what are possibly the two most volatile, violent, and vindictive prisoners they have locked up to make sure we’re not planning on causing too much trouble for the caravan in the near future.” I took a moment of thought, the Hercule Poirot in me finally silencing himself. “My money’s on the first.” I always did agree with the doctrine of Buddhism. I mean, it didn’t stop me from being a vain, petty jerk with a bit of a sociopathic and hedonistic streak, but I regardless respected the wise words the text held within.

The room was silent for a full minute after I got through rambling on about that mumbo-jumbo. I was just about to try to fall back into my uneasy reverie before Hawkeye spoke up. “T-that… makes a disturbing amount of sense.”

“What, Arib wanting to take the path of enlightenment?” I asked, letting a small, trollish smile grace my lips.

“No, you moron, the part where you said the guy’s trying his luck with ‘the two most volatile, violent, and vindictive prisoners they have locked up’.”

“You know that was the third hypothesis, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, but think about it. Who better to take down the growing Saddle Arabian operation than the beautiful, graceful Hawkeye and her brutish, antagonistic sidekick?”

Bitch, you weren’t beautiful or graceful when I was beatin’ that ass. To be fair, though, she had a point: I was rather brutish and antagonistic during our little ‘disagreement’, so I couldn’t rightfully refute her without making an ass of myself. “Sidekick? Ain’t that what I gave you back at that factory?”

If looks could kill, then, well, I’d be as much of a mess on the outside as I was on the inside. I focused just enough to catch the end of what she was saying. “—you sadistic, single-minded pile of horse shi—,” and I again tuned her out. When I came back down to earth, I opened an eye and looked at the fuming griffon as she took heavy, controlled breaths, likely trying to calm herself.

“You done, featherhead?”

“I’m trying to keep myself from beating your conceited face in with one of your forearms. But other than that, yes. Just peachy.”

“Beautiful. Now, back on topic, what makes you think that guy’s actually a good fella? I mean, a slaver’s a slaver in my books. None of ‘em deserve any kind of respect or trust in my books.”

“You say that as though you have some in-depth knowledge of it.” Oh, honey, the tales I could tell you about the olden days of… well, basically anywhere on Earth. “To be frank, I don’t truly care about destroying the Saddle Arabian network, not that two people could realistically do that anyways with nothing but whispers and rumors. Besides, that would mean more time dealing with the likes of you.”

Hold up just a cherry-pickin’ second! “Wait, are you implying that you’d prefer the company of traffickers over me? You sayin’ I’m worse than a fucking person who deals flesh for gold!?”

Hawkeye coolly regarded her talons, brushing them on her coat before holding her forearm out in front of her. “Well, I despise both you and them, but they aren’t the ones who crippled me. With you, it’s personal.”

Now it was my turn to be pissed. “More personal than the dune-kicking bastards who want to sell a life they have no right to call theirs? The bastards that are a lot like you?”

And the hate-ball landed right back in her court. She flinched as if struck, her icy façade melting away as the flames of anger rose in her heart, kindling her ire. “You… you…! You vulgar, mouth-breathing, idiotic fool!”

“Good for nothin’, hollow-skulled, unstable reprobate!”

“Two-faced, conniving, emotionless swine!”

“Whiny, big-mouthed, shameless harlot!”

“Insufferable sadist!”

“Hypocritical coward!”

“Ape!”

“Bird!”

At some point we had both gotten out of our bunks and into each others’ faces, fiercely staring one another down with intensity rivaling that of your mom’s ass. After a few minutes of huffing and puffing, I spoke.

“Go ‘head. Swing first. I dare you. I double dare you, Featherbrain.”

“No guards are gonna save you this time, Bananaboy.”

So there we stood, still staring at one another. One hour, two hours, three days, 4 weeks! That’s how long we stood there, both too proud to break eye contact, even as we wasted away. Or at least, that’s how long it felt like we were staring at each other.

Eventually, I blinked.

Hawkeye had a victorious smirk on her beak at that, to which I retaliated with a dark glare. Waving me off, she said “Pheh, not even worth anymore of my time.”

“Oh yeah, well… your face,” I lamely responded, heading back to my side of the room. As I sat back down, I noticed the warmth in my hand had deteriorated rather a lot, my chest lightly glowing as I felt a bit of the pain in my side disappear. I looked down into my hand to find the red stone (I still didn’t know how it kept getting there) resting snug in my palm. Hm…

“That comeback was awful, Ladarion.”

“Oh yeah, well… your face,” came the reply again.

Hawkeye rolled her eyes at that, failing to adopt an annoyed expression as her beak lightly curved into something resembling a grin. I might have been imagining things, though. “One of these days, Ladarion.”

I furrowed my brows at that. “So with that out of the way, what do you think of Arib?”

“He’s about as good as the lot ‘em, like you said. Still, he’s our best bet at this point. I mean, what kind of guard meant to keep tabs on us gives us a plan and then a method of escape? Too many conveniences to be accidental, so I’m willing to bet he actually wants to help. For whatever confounded reason…” The last part was muttered below her breath.

“What happened to Tony and Barney coming to your rescue?”

Hawkeye lied on her bunk in a sphinxlike position, making herself as comfortable as she could on the lumpy mattress. “You’re still completely, unequivocally dead wrong about everything you’ve said about them, but with Barney at the head, those two will be waiting for the right opportunity to strike. Something that could take a couple of days or a couple of weeks. I’d rather not be here for a couple of weeks.”

Placing more faith in the guard who’s part of the guys who tried screwing you and yours over in a deal than your own allies? Ouch. I’m beginning to think the end of days is upon us. Just kidding, I already knew the end of days was upon us. Pushing the queer thought out of mind, I replied. “You sure can say that again, Hawkeye. I’d rather stick to being free and maybe dying as opposed to staying in here and making death inescapable.”

“Ditto.”

Sensing a lull in the conversation, and noticing that the tension that was usually permeating the air in the room had been dispelled, I tried what little of my luck remained. “So, uh, yo Hawkeye?”

“Hm?”

“This may sound strange, but I been wondering something.”

“Go on, then. Ask away. Not like there’s much else to do in this accursed cell.”

“Is Hawkeye your real name?

Her ears perked up at that. “What?”

“Hawkeye. That’s your real name? You know, the one bestowed upon you by your mommy and your daddy?” Or your daddy and your daddy. Or your mommy and your mommy. Or your—

“No.”

“No to what? The mom and dad thing?”

She facewhatevered. “I like it better when we’re yelling at each other. At least then you don’t have much of a chance to act even more dense than you usually do.”

I shrugged before I was reminded of something of grave importance. My eyes bulged out of my head as I jumped up off the bed like my ass was on fire, my hands patting and searching every pocket I had in a desperate attempt to reclaim what was mine. The display put Hawkeye ill at ease.

“What the Tartarus is going on with you? “

“I know it has to be in here somewhere…! Goddammit, where is it!?”

Now she looked less perplexed and more concerned. “This isn’t something that affects me too, is it? I swear, if you lost that damned key, I’ll—!”

“No, this isn’t about the key, dammit! I could’ve sworn I had it in here somewhere…”

As I went back to rifling through my pockets, Hawkeye’s face contorted in confusion, the griffon no less disturbed. “Then what is it? Tell me already!”

And then I finally had it. I pulled out of my pocket…

“Why are you holding out your empty palms to me?”

A shit-eating grin was weaved onto my face. “Oh no, you misunderstand the meaning of this, Hawkeye. Can’t you see? If you look just a bit closer, this is the amount of fucks I give about your opinion of me.” And like that, I dropped the mic, letting the invisible handful of fucks fall not so gracefully to the dust-covered floor. My fingers closed, only the two middle fingers left saluting the bewildered griffon in an epic “Fuck you!” as I made my way back to my bunk.

I never took my eyes off of the winged cat, absorbing every delectable detail of her blue screening face. I really wish my phone still worked, because if I could, I would have snapped a picture of that expression to immortalize it and plastered it on my wall back home. Giving myself a mental high-five, I watched as her face slowly morphed from puzzled to unamused.

“Gotcha, bitch!” I chuckled wholeheartedly at her plight, one of the few actual laughs I’ve had her in the dainty, fun-filled land of Equestria.

Hawkeye huffed, though I could see yet another ghost of a smile on her face. “Idiot… Anyway, the answer to your question is no, Hawkeye is not my real name.”

“Really?” I asked.

“You may have us pegged for a team of losers after our falling out with the Saddle Arabians, but we’re not complete amateurs, Ladarion. We never address each other by name when on the job. You probably noticed this when Sarey—Sarub—Sanjay—,”

“Sarif.”

“—Thanks. You probably noticed this when Sarif, the smug snake, kept calling Barney by the name of Bare Yield. Same as him, we all hide our names to better ensure anonymity.”

“No offense, but two ponies and a griffon is rather hard to miss, I’d assume.”

“It’s not as uncommon for ponies and griffons to intermingle as you’d think. Or at least, that's how it used to be. Some small-minded idiots in an unoriginally named pony hamlet to the north, closer to Canterlot, may have a differing opinion – from what I’ve heard, a hot-blooded pigeon visited the town and gave griffons everywhere a bad image when she ignorantly bullied the bloody Elements of Harmony. Still, almost anywhere with a respectable community that actually is aware of events and peoples outside of its bounds has a small mix of at least two races. Sure, there’s often a majority of ponies over griffons here in Equestria, as surprising as that may sound, but in Gryphonia it’s vice versa. Again, big surprise there.”

Interesting. If I cared about this world, I’d probably go adventuring just to visit these places.

Sometimes I should keep my mind shut, I would soon come to learn. I rested my head on my fist.

“Hm. Doesn’t change the fact that Barney still gave his name to that Sarif guy at the round table.”

“Not his real name, wise guy.”

“What?”

“That wasn’t his real name either. You see, we have something of a story around our names. I’m Hawkeye because I have the eyes of a hawk, Bare Yield got his name from the fact that he likes being ironic and usually gets us more bits than was bargained for, and Tony got his because… well, because he’s Tony.”

“So are you gonna tell me your real name and not a pseudonym?”

“Ha ha, no.”

“C’mon, what do you have to lose.”

“My partnership with Tony and Barney. Duh.”

“Man, that sucks! All that build up to nothin’!”

“Cry me a river.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You probably subsist off the tears of the innocent.”

“If you’re innocent in any aspect, then this world is even more screwed than I originally thought,” she quipped. I began patting at my pockets again, the meaning of the action not going over her head. She glared at me. “Oh, shut up, ya hatchling.”

“Well, excuse me, missy, for trying to keep myself entertained.” Overgrown rodent.

“Whatever,” she replied, contemplating something. Her eyes widened slightly as she rummaged through her feathers for something.

“Hey, HEY! You’re getting my dirty floor even more filthy with all of your molting. Would you kindly go do that two inches in that direction, please?”

Rolling her eyes, Hawkeye pulled out her prize: it was a… a golden coin? My eyes widened in realization as I recalled that this was the golden coin. The one she pilfered from my sack some time past.

“How about we play a game you’re familiar with? Heads or tails?”

That ‘game’ of heads or tails turned into a couple of games. Then, those couple of games turned into more useless conversations. Something about the morality of catching all wildlife and forcing them into ‘battles’ with their fellows for international entertainment, why we shouldn’t allow ourselves to fall prey to the purviews of the conundrums of philosophy when discussing the subtleties of beauty, and the unnecessary length of the latter half of the Frieza arc. No, I’m not making that last one up. Trust me when I say I was just as confused when Hawkeye managed to go on a forty minute rant about just how useless Krillin managed to make himself in basically every confrontation. I didn’t even want to get her started on the presence of Bulma, lest I be in for two hours more of passionate yelling.

It was at that instant that I decided that if I wasn’t on drugs, maybe I should consider them if this was my new reality.

All in all, though, it felt nice being able to simply chat with someone who tried to kill me the day before. It was even better because I wasn’t free of guilt either, which gave us pretty even ground, knowing we shouldn’t trust each other too much. Yet, I, an alien to this land who was feeling more and more estranged each day, managed to desperately grasp onto any semblance of my shattered concept of normalcy like a sinking man would to a life raft.

It almost made me forget that this was the same griffon that had tried giving me over to the Saddle Arabians in the first place and would take the first opportunity to either claw me when I wasn’t looking and leave me to die without supplies in the desert should we escape or simply abandon me at her earliest convenience.

See, I like relationships where everything is laid out from the get-go as opposed to those wherein you think you’ve got a pal, but then the next minute he’s poisoning your drinks, slicing his father’s throat open, blaming you for murder, and then selling you off to slavery.

Yeah. Don’t you just hate it when something like that happens? I know I do.

But I digress, the next surprise of the day came in the exalted form of Sarif. The captain of the red-garbs stepped calmly into our cell, Arib and a random guard in tow. Hawkeye discreetly scooted her way a few inches away from the group. I was occupied by questioning the wisdom of such a decision – that of allowing all sentinels into a confined space, that is – but something told me protocol wouldn’t permit less than two soldiers standing guard outside a cell occupied by security personnel for, y’know, security reasons.

Arib’s little visit the previous day was a special case, I presume, as protocol obviously had to be broken to give him and his buddy time to inform us of an escape plan.

Speaking of Arib, the agent stood straight-faced as he followed Sarif; however, upon closer scrutiny, the pony radiated the tiniest sliver of anxiety. It was almost unnoticeable, though.

Sarif approached us, or rather me, an appraising eye holding within it an odd amalgamation of cool triumph and restrained hatred. I stared back into his eyes defiantly, though deep inside I held the coming confrontation with great trepidation.

“Ladarion,” he said with distaste, his eyes narrowing. “So good to see you again.”

“Can’t say the sentiment stands mutually, Sarif. So what brings you to this humble little cell, huh? Gonna boast about your victory over a thief,” I ignored the sudden heat on the side of my head from Hawkeye’s glare, “and an average Joe?”

“I do not know who this ‘Joe’ is, but I do know that you and the thief,” the glare was then turned to him, “have had troubles in recent passing. I came here to sort that out, but I see the two of you have seemingly mended those troubles. And as much as I would love to gloat, I have an actual purpose in taking the time out of my schedule to make this visit.”

I stared at him. He stared back.

After a few seconds of silence, Hawkeye got tired of waiting for Sarif waiting for me to ask the next obvious question and decided to butt in. “So what’s your reason for being here, then?”

“Lift your shirt, ape,” Sarif said.

I raised my hands to my chest defensively. “Woah now, cowboy, you didn’t even take me out to dinner first.”

“You must have taken that for a suggestion. I was not asking you, I was telling you. It has come to my attention that you were injured; I would like to see the contusion.”

Frowning, but seeing no nonviolent way out of this, I shrugged and lifted my shirt.

Sarif hummed, eyeing the discolored flesh with the barest hint of what I almost wanted to call sympathy. It was overshadowed by revulsion, though.

When Sarif moved forward, hoof outstretched to touch the bruise, I dropped leaned away, flinching in pain at the sudden movement. I grasped my ribs, causing Sarif to raise a brow.

“Okay, yeah, I was brutalized by one of your damn guards in an altercation, but I don’t see how this time is any different than the others.”

“Would you be able to identify the guard who assaulted you in such a fashion? I have a roster of sentries dispatched to this wing, should that help.”

I looked up at him, confused. “Why the hell do you so suddenly care about my well-being?”

“It is my job to ensure the health of those who have caught the eye of Yarghuul in this region, Ladarion. He who is responsible for your unreasonably harsh treatment will be punished accordingly.” For some reason, the guard by Arib shifted nervously at that declaration.

“You know I could just lie and tell you it was anyone, right?”

“To do such a thing would be ridiculous. You have some thought going on in that primate skull of yours, I’d imagine. Either way, we can narrow down the potential suspects with a list of details provided by you if possible and the time of your harm.”

Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, I told him about the approximate time when I was beaten. “So it aligns with the time of Hawkeye’s interrogation, then.” Sarif nodded at the information. “Did you get any facial details?”

“None,” I answered. “I was kinda busy getting my ass kicked by basically everyone.” I didn’t really hold any warm feelings about ‘Detective’ Sarif’s asshole troops anyway, so it wasn’t my concern if either both, one, or none of them had their hides tanned. I really just wanted to get out of this damned place and not be bothered by anyone.

“It would have been better to have a confirmation, but all evidence points to… you, Private Tewar.” The random guard, now named, jumped slightly at the accusation, for some reason bowing to his captain. “Rise, soldier. Do you have anything to say in your defense for this most grave of crimes against the Crown?”

“S-Sir, I was only responding to the skirmish between the ape and the thief! In the heat of the moment, I admit I acted zealously in my haste, but it was only with the intention of stopping them from damaging each other grievously.”

“Um. I was on the ground, reeling from a possible concussion with an angry bird-lion-cat thing,” and again a glare was cast upon me, “trying her damnedest to bash in my forehead. If I seemed threatening to you even in that state, then you got a major malfunction, bub.” I crossed my arms and shook my head contemptuously at the poor pony logic.

The guard was left speechless at that, so Sarif took the reins and spoke for him. “So you are guilty of bringing him undue harm?”

“Captain, you must understand, I was simply upholding the pea-,” he was interrupted when Sarif turned and sent a hoof careening into the side of his face, effectively smacking the taste out of his pleading mouth.

“Enough of your excuses! Do you realize what would happen to all of us if Yahguul were to see him in this condition!? He would not be pleased! We would be lucky to be tried for treason, much less return to Saddle Arabia at all!” Sarif took a moment to compose himself, Hawkeye and Arib watching the display with surprise evident on their faces at the normally calm and collected leader of the red garbs losing his temper whilst I took a moment to wonder whether anything on this planet was mentally stable.

“Head to the barracks for reassignment,” Sarif commanded after he cooled down. “I cannot have this same mistake made. Sands above and below, such a thing would be far too costly.” There was a small pause as the tension in the room, still palpable, properly settled itself. “Dismissed!”

The guard quickly made himself scarce. Surely enough, I felt just a tad better, the pain in my side diminishing at the lingering taste of fear and anger.

I don’t think the unions back home would appreciate this kind of leader-worker relationship. “Now that that’s out of the way, you got anything else for us?” Wouldn’t want to impose on your ever so busy schedule of poisoning the elderly, poaching endangered birds, or taking toilet paper rolls from public restrooms.

Sarif cleared his throat. “For now, that will be all. I will send a physician with painkilling medication to your cell. As much as I would enjoy seeing you suffer, it is beyond my station at the moment to act upon my wishes. We shall likely see one another in Saddle Arabia, when I am no longer charged with the prince’s protection. Till then, Ladarion.” He turned around and began walking out of the cell. “Come, Arib. There are a few preparations that must be made before your trek across the Soranora.” With that, Sarif and Arib left.

I felt some of the tension in the air dissipate with Sarif’s absence. I wasn’t expecting him to personally visit me, but, thinking on it, stranger has happened in my stay in Ponyland. Truly, I should have expected it.

While I was ruminating on the conversation with Sarif, Hawkeye eased her way back over to a respectable distance from me, a frown on her face. “That was… odd.”

“Indeed it was, although I was anticipating the conversation to go worse than that. I guess Murphy’s taking the day off today.”

“Why would he admit to wanting you dead or worse and then lash out at the guard who hurt you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Hawkeye. I’d attribute his behavior to the fact that his job is ensuring valuable ‘cargo’ gets along unmarred.”

“And why is he holding a grudge against you, anyway? Sure, he was happy when he caught me after I humiliated him in the desert, but he genuinely seems more concerned about you.”

“Is this a jealousy thing? Hawkeye, you and I both know I’m the prettiest of the two of us. Of course I’m going to get the most attention.”

The look on Hawkeye’s face was priceless. “There are a hundred ways I could rebut that, but since I’m well aware of your attempt to derail our little heart-to-heart, I won’t take the bait. Why is Sarif so concerned over you?”

Probably because I, according to him, killed a few of the bastards on his team. I tried my best to keep those unpleasant thoughts in my subconscious. “No clue. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I went from some chump in chains to some chump who befriended the most powerful family in Sauna Pai in less than a day.”

“But from what I see, you’re still some chump in chains at the end of the day.”

I had no retort for that, so I was silent for a moment. Eventually, I sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

After about 30 or so seconds of nothing being said, Hawkeye spoke up again. “So what happened,” she asked.

I clenched my teeth in anger. “I had a falling out with the head of the household.”

“And that resulted in you being sent here? Must’ve been one crazy falling out.”

“I’d rather not talk about it. It still burns.” All lessons do, come to think of it.

“You sure you don’t want to-.”

“I’m sure,” I growled.

“…Alright, then. Want to play a few more rounds of Heads or Tails?” Hawkeye asked, pulling out the coin.

“Nah. I’m gettin’ tired. Think I’ll turn in for the night.”

Hawkeye rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Okay, Ladarion. Guess I’ll have to find something else to do to pass the time.”

“You’ll manage.”

I slid onto my bunk, placing my hands behind my head. Ignoring Hawkeye’s melodramatic sigh, I closed my eyes. As I slipped from my unfortunate reality into the less comforting realm of unconsciousness, the fog again enveloped my thoughts.

And what I saw on the other side was certainly something.

Author's Notes:

I surprised even myself with this update. See you guys whenever the next hits.

The Immense Weight of a Feather

I have no idea how long I’d been traversing this damned forest. I was tossed out of a tree while trying to get an odd looking apple from a monkey, knocked unconscious, and then maimed by a winged lion with an oversized scorpion stinger for a tail. How quaint.

I was bleeding from a particularly deep gash left by who I’d deemed Mufasa, and I’m rather sure I had a concussion from the fall. So yeah, not much was going in my favor at this juncture.

There I was, limping toward where I was hoping would lead me to salvation, when I heard something odd. Is that… sobbing? Red flags went up in my mind, and despite all of my being telling me to turn around and walk away due to what curiosity does to cats (and the fact that I most certainly do not have nine lives like those wily jerks), I felt myself drawn to whatever pained individual or thing that had gotten my attention. Was it because of sympathy, or was it because of stupidity? I don’t think it’s up to debate that it was mostly the latter.

I cautiously made my way toward the source of the noise, slowly pulling apart vines and carefully stepping over briars. As I neared, a pressure built in my head, causing the environment to warp around me like the surface of water after having its still tranquility shattered by a thrown pebble. Or something like that.

The world shifted and seemed to close in around me. Each breath became more labored than the last. The pressure inside my head continued inflating and expanding until it threatened to blow its way out of my forehead. Yet on I traipsed like the weary, delusional madman I am.

The groaning was deafening by now, and so too did the fire pulsating in my skull spike as I approached a curtain of vines. And when I pulled them apart, what I saw…

The world froze.

The noise stopped.

The pain vanished.

All that was left to me were my own eyes, which nearly broke from widening in surprise, and what I couldn’t imagine to be real.

I stared at the skeletal corpse of the manticore, one of its wings broken and its eyes, now dark pools of eternal black, glared back at me, into me, into the very essence of my soul. Its mouth was agape in an expression of pure agony, a scream that pierced the heavens as the very definition of suffering, yet only managed to be heard by my ears. The travesty sat unmoving, unyielding, but still broken by the unstoppable force of fate. Perched as it was upon its throne, a colossal rock of stone, it cast its judgement upon me.

And I was deemed unworthy.

Laughter picked up around me, raving and howling and hollering; madness and chaos and hunger! The earth tore apart between the corpse and I, a gaping pit that appeared to steal all light from around it, beckoning all succulent morsels to approach it, to feed it. I sluggishly reached up to my face as the pressure once again returned, this time with a vengeance. I pulled away and realized I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel a warm, syrupy liquid running down my fingertips. From my eyes, from my ears, from my nose it seeped. The horror, the horror!

I took one step, a step that echoed across the world, and again all froze into a deafening silence. Then another. And another. I stood at the mouth of the abyss, gazing into it. What stared back, I could not comprehend. So I accepted my hand in life, and took another step, though this time my foot found no purchase.

I fell forward, into the stomach of the void, and I never reached the bottom.

I awoke with a start, gasping desperately for air and clutching my heart as a cold sweat covered my face. Quickly searching the room, I discovered that I was still in my cell, something that I never would have thought I’d consider a relief.

Still, some things didn’t quite line up. For starters, Hawkeye was missing. There was no evidence of her ever having been in the room; no indentation on her bunk, no feathers littering the floor, no coin. She was just… gone.

Secondly, and perhaps most strangely, all the color seemed to have been drained from the room, leaving everything in various shades of black and white. It was made all the more disconcerting by the menacing way each shadow stretched and twisted, making it appear as though they would reach out and grab me to drag me to some hell if I were to draw too near.

Finally, the cell door was open.

I jumped to my feet, feeling no pain in my ribcage at the motion for some reason that I was too preoccupied to even care for, and quietly made my way to the cell’s exit. I had no idea what was going on and that honestly freaked me out more than almost any of what I’d experienced thus far could even hold a candle to. Not to mention, my mind was still very much shaken by that hellishly lucid nightmarish experience. Everything considered, it’s a wonder I didn’t have a complete mental breakdown.

Keep calm, Vince. Keep calm and panic on.

Licking my lips, I (thankfully) kept all panicking to a minimum for the time being. Instead, I chose to step foot out into the hall. The floors were clearly unused for some time if the dust coating them were of any indication. I took a deep breath and walked down, looking for any signs that might lead me to an exit.

The building was lifeless. Everything was shrouded in shadow. All light was swallowed by the abysmal darkness that hung overhead, clinging to the ceiling that stretched on forever upward and hiding in the corners of every room. With every cell I passed, a chill washed over me, refreshing a broadening sense of paranoia and keeping me on edge. I was being watched… or so I believed.

If there truly was a god in this world, then that meant that this eldritch hell could only have been conceived by some demonic horror. Lovecraft be damned, I loved the racist fuck’s work, but I never would have dreamt of the day where I’d be experiencing it firsthand. Aside from the obvious, something about this place was wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have been here. No living being should have been here. It was all I could do to gather what dregs remained of my fickle sanity to move on.

It wasn’t until about five minutes of aimlessly wandering the deserted halls that I noticed what seemed so off: I couldn’t hear my footsteps. I turned around and noticed that there was no trail of footprints behind me either. That suitably spooked me, but what really had me concerned was the fact that, when I thought about it, I noticed couldn’t even hear myself breathing. Hell, not even my heart, the incandescent torch it was, was glowing.

I touched my face, only to find a layer of cobweb decorating the palm of my hand when I pulled it away. What the fuck!? I tore and scratched at my face, more and more cobweb falling to the floor as I did so, but ultimately my efforts were fruitless. When I wrenched a sizable amount from my face, I felt for skin only to be met with even more cobweb. I shuddered and then got a good look at my hand, finding it almost skeletal in appearance.

This is just a dream. This is just a really bad dream.

“Come, child,” a watery, disembodied voice called, its words ringing in my mind not unpleasantly. “Follow my voice, beckoning, and allow me to open thy mind.” A soft, admittedly cute chuckle ― one that sounded like a crow’s coo ― came from the voice, though there was an underlying hint of malice carried on it.

Since today was a day of stupid decisions, I made the right choice and listened to the voice.

I had been travelling for about five hours (time really seemed to be merely a suggestion here, if it existed at all) before I had come to a path that didn’t appear to be a demented replica of the prison near Sauna Pai. One thing I had learned very quickly was to avoid the shadows, although I’d been doing my best to do so anyway. When I happened to fall too near one, it… grabbed at me, sliding silently across the floor to wrap a ghastly tendril around my ankle.

Aside from it feeling like I was being stung by a jellyfish and all the pain that entails, I heard… whispers. Whispers in a tongue that had no right to exist. I only managed to get away because the pain kickstarted my heart, causing it to burn away the appendage Alan Wake style.

Anyway, back to the hall. At first it seemed to be yet another random hall, but I just knew that this was where the voice from before had called me to. I looked around, staying away from any corners and not staring into the void above for any extended amount of time, allowing the light from my heart to vaporize anything that tried seizing my legs. Eventually, my attention was nabbed by a part of the wall. It didn’t line up with the rest of the corridor. The best way to describe it was as a… tear, a phantasm; and when I shined my light upon it, it ignited, dissipating almost instantaneously. All that it left behind was a fog wall.

The fuck is this, The Evil Within? Dark Souls? I’m just glad there were no lockboxes or Capra Demons on the other side.

Seeing no other way to progress, I did what all good main characters do in these types of situations: I continued forward. A large cavern awaited me on the other side, stalactites and stalagmites littering the floor and ceiling as poodle-sized bats flew from place to place. Fear welled within me at the precarious drop on either side of the path leading to another fog wall, so I put on my big boy pants and RPG’d on before it consumed me.

Five steps later, I was regretting that choice. A few of the oversized bats shrieked, producing a high-pitched sound that was easily more terrifying than Mufasa’s fearsome roar, before diving down en masse toward me. Oh fuck my life! I turned and ran back towards the entrance, only to find myself trapped between a rock wall and a hundred flesh-hungry bats. They surrounded me, not doing much damage surprisingly aside from a few good nips with their teeth or bodily collisions that sent me to the floor. I closed my eyes and covered the back of my neck, curling up to make myself a smaller target and to protect my vitals. The only true damage being done was to my psyche, as their screeches were deafening and being mobbed panicked me.

When a few in front of me backed off, looking for an opening, I quickly jumped up, hands still covering my neck. My heart was shining brighter than ever, and the glow that had saved me so many times today incinerated the abominations, making them fall screaming into the spiked pit below. Shrugging off a humorously grim thought about earning XP from killing low level enemies, I booked it down the path. Unfortunately, the bats were right on my tail the whole of the way. I turned every now and again, mindful of the edges of the rocky walkway, to turn a few of the particularly daring monsters into flying candles.

I was at the home stretch! Only a few more meters need to be covered before― and there goes my balance. One of the bats rammed into my side when I was busy roasting his friends into something not kosher, sending me off the path. Luckily for me, I obviously still have a story to tell, so I ended up grabbing the side of the crossing at the last possible second. Before I could pull myself up, I was smacked in the fact by a divebombing kamikazi winged rodent. I shook the dizziness from my face and attempted to right myself as yet another banzai’d my face. This time, there was nothing keeping me attached to the ledge when a final attacker hit me with the force of a miniature George Foreman, and like that, I was weightless…

But I had grabbed the little prick at his ascent, which was enough of a pull to provide enough leverage for me to again grab the path. I yanked the struggling, fanged freak down, squeezing it as I threw a leg onto the ledge. I slammed the bat into the ground when I was again on the path, disorienting it to allow me to toss it like a pigskin at the rest. And I pushed my way the rest of the distance to the fog wall, angry chirps sounding behind me.

I was unsafely on the other side of the fog wall when, before I could even take a moment for a breather, a cleaver the size of me nearly took my head off. I rolled under the swing, hardly registering that I was still under attack when something fast and with more teeth than the Osmond Family slammed into my side, barking and growling as it tried to tear out my windpipe.

I grabbed the ugly dog’s head and wrenched its mouth away from my neck, saving myself the punishment of smelling its awful breath. I quickly lifted a knee to upset the thing’s balance, leaving it on its front two legs, and then rolled it over onto its back. One of my fists went crashing into Fido’s face before I was kicked off by the big bad who tried turning me into modern art. I rolled and sweared and slid to a stop, achingly pushing myself to my knees when, as I looked up, the fucking Capra Demon (damn my jinxes) leapt into the air, both cleavers raised with clear murderous intent. I channeled my inner Dark Souls player character and rolled out of the way just in time to avoid 400 or so pounds of enraged monstrosity; his oversized kitchen utensils sent dirt and shards of rock up into the air, becoming embedded in the earth.

Scooby again lunged at me, an action he soon came to hate himself for when I stepped out of the way. He slammed snout-first into the side of a staircase. I leapt onto the back of the Capra, fighting the overwhelming fear down again, whilst he was still trying to free his bloody, rusty weapons from the floor. He let loose a crazed howl that would have likely made me piss myself in another reality, dropping one of the cleavers to grab at me. I latched onto one of the thing’s horns, pulling its head to the side and unbalancing it. Since I didn’t know what I was doing, we both slammed into one of the walls of the confined area, him with a headache and me with an everythingache. I noticed that there was a broken sword of sorts jammed into one of the demon’s shoulders, so I ignored my pain to grasp it, twisting it as I ripped it out. Of course, Capra screamed in outrage and agony, swiping at me and knocking me to the ground again.

I narrowly dodged his foot as he slammed it into the ground in an attempt to turn my face into borscht, jamming the edge of the broken sword into his calf to show my appreciation for his effort. Courage jumped onto my back, yapping his dislocated jaw and spilling saliva onto my face and shirt before Capra punted the both of us across the yard. He pulled the sword out of his leg and threw it at us, hitting Ein in his back while he tried ripping off my face. Brian yelped, stopping his unwanted advances. With this welcome distraction, I grabbed Hong Kong Phooey's jaw in one hand and the top of his head with the other, snapping his neck with a sloppy, amateurish movement.

I tossed Jake aside, snatching the sword from it before turning back around and catching a bitchslap to the face. I groaned, wondering whether this was my punishment for blaming that mentally challenged boy down the road for breaking my crotchety old neighbor’s window with a football back in fifth grade. Capra interrupted my trip down memory lane when he grasped one of his blades with both hands, putting all of his time skipping leg day to use when, with a heave and a ho, the cleaver came free. He then turned to me, hate clear in his four glowering red eyes as he slowly advanced.

I pulled myself up, grasp still firm on my salvation. Looking up at the terrifying being that stood twice my height, I suddenly questioned just how I was able to last as long as I had against something like it. Capra swung at me in a wild arc that I narrowly sidestepped, not anticipating the kick the followed. I was again launched from my feet, rolling to regain my footing. I was forced back as he again hefted his cleaver with wild abandon, my back hitting the rock where the fog wall once rested as he lifted the crude blade overhead. I imagine if his face hadn’t been that of a goat’s skull, he would have been smiling at this turn of events. But I wasn’t down for the count yet. I ran forward, sliding underneath him as he turned the ground I was once cowering at into a mining effort. I dashed up the stairs, looking for a door or anything to grant me exit from this deathtrap. To my delight, there was a door. To my despair, it was locked.

Having recovered from my escape, Capra was staring at me when I apprehensively faced him. When he knew he had my undivided attention, he reached beneath his goat skull, pulling out a key. The sadistic bastard gave an honest to Fonz chuckle at my widened eyes, placing the key back somewhere under his skull. He then charged me, dragging his cleaver and sending stone crashing into me as he swung it upward. I took the hits like a bitch, falling to a knee as he lifted his cleaver up for another downward swipe. I lunged forward, catching him mid-strike in the gut. I put all of my weight into my legs and drove forward, thrusting my sword deeper and deeper into his pancreas. Capra put a hand on my shoulder, pushing down with all his might, driving me to my knees yet again. Using the stairs and my higher position for leverage, however, I managed to knock him from the staircase and onto the cold ground below, the demon sliding off of the sword on his way down.

A moment was spared to me to regain my bearings. Placing a hand on the wall to help myself to my feet, I limped over to find Capra still breathing, though he was shaking uncontrollably as he grasped the new pocket where his stomach used to be. My grip on the sword in my hand tightened. Realizing the fight wasn’t yet over, I jumped from the stairs, ramming the blade into where I believed his heart would be. Capra shrieked and futilely tried shaking me off, but I held fast. After a few moments, his struggling ceased. The Capra Demon’s arms fell limply to the earth, and his eyes’ red glow faded to black, lifeless. I shook, fear overtaking me as I watched the rest of his body slowly become consumed by a sanguine flame. Before I could comprehend what was happening, that same flame that burned within him rose and expanded, giving me but a moment to furrow my brows in confusion before crashing into me.

All that I knew for the next eternity was red. Red and heat. After the worst of it came and went, I opened my eyes and beheld my charred skin, flames running weakly up and down my arms before being sucked into the… the red orb.

+100 XP gained. Level 2: Capra Slayer.

Searching the area, I found that all that was left of Capra was his skull. Lifting that and casually tossing it aside, I discovered my true prize: the key.

For all I knew, it could have been a key to the shitter, but that was better than the nothing I had before. Figuring I might as well test it anyway, I walked up the steps, still limping slightly, and stood before the door.

I steeled myself for whatever was on the other side, getting a sneaking suspicion that the owner of the voice was lying in wait beyond. The key went into the keyhole, and unsurprisingly, it fit.

Twisting the key, the door slowly opened. I raised my sword as I readied myself to face whatever was on the other side.

When I pushed the door open, I wasn’t even going to bother acting surprised at what I found awaiting me. On the other side rested a plague doctor, a crow perched on one of her arms and a pony with a mane made of the night sky sitting near, fully at attention. It seemed they all had been expecting me as a visitor, because― “Ah, welcome, human. We hath been expecting thee.” Yeah, because of that.

I looked around at the room, seeing that it appeared to be an office of sorts. Various tools of savagery from the worse parts of Europe’s plague era adorned the tables; the skulls of various species lined the walls as souvenirs; and the floorboards, though immaculate, creaked with each step I took while I looked around. The plague doctor chuckled from her seat at the far end of the room, drawing my attention back to her. There was no table between us, so I got the full view of the good doctor’s own set of raven-like talons that served as feet. Fighting back my repulsion at the bastardization of a human, I fought to keep a straight face, even if the need was lost behind the cobweb masking my expression.

“Were you the voice from before? The one who called me here?” I asked, not lowering my weapon.

“An astute one, thou art,” said the plague doctor, her voice warm and honeyed. “I see that thou hast made thine way to my humble abode safely. Commendable, for a mortal such as thyself.”

“No thanks to that damn Capra Demon you’ve got guarding your chambers,” I replied, trying and failing to keep the venom out of my words.

I got another chuckle, the birdlady likely amused at my frustration. “Allow me to apologize, young one,” her voice came from the pony this time. “At my age, it is quite easy to lose one’s memory. And the weapon will no longer be necessary.” With that declaration, the sword I was debating skewering her with fell out of existence. Oh god, she’s a reality warper.

“J-just what the hell are you?”

Said the crow, “Hmhm. Thou mayest regard Us as… Lenore. And for what We are?” All three spoke in conjunction. “We are the embodiment of thine sins.” I had no response to that. “Now, any further inquiries, child?” the… thing asked, its voice once again soft.

“...How do I get out of this room?”

Lenore voice once again came from behind the beaked mask of the doctor. “Thou wilt find thyself in a more desirable place upon an amicable conclusion to our discourse.”

“And if our conversation doesn’t end on an ‘amicable’ note?”

“Then We will make thee another puppet,” answered Crow-Lenore simply, emphasizing the statement by making the other two move their heads simultaneously as she cocked hers at me.

“That doesn’t sound very amicable.” I shifted where I stood.

“Then why not simply ensure that this discussion stays on amicable terms?” the pony suggested, looking at me with a neutral expression.

“How do I do that?”

“By not asking so many useless questions.”

I didn’t like the idea of being made a “puppet”, so I kept my peace. When Lenore saw that I was ready to comply, the room suddenly shrunk, placing me directly in front of the lot of her marionettes. The crow picked at its feathers in a manner that was supposed to be mindless, the pony ― one of the tallest I’d seen thus far ― rose a brow as she ran a hoof through her hair, and the plague doctor stood to her full, overbearing height, easily dwarfing me.

“Such an interesting specimen, thou art,” she said, circling me with a gloved hand resting on her chin. “But alas, I cannot learn more of thee at this time.”

“Too useful. Elsewise We would have spared Ourself the bother of plucking a mortal from that worthless realm.”

“Although the human is admittedly rather… alluring, in some ways. He speaks too much, however. Perhaps removing his tongue would be an improvement, hm?”

“No, no. For now, everything inside him stays inside him. He must hear our proposition, first.”

“Yes. It would do us well to explain to him his part in this game, especially with the interference of that conniving drake.”

“Speaking of, I should put him in his proper place. Still, it is cute watching the beings of his world strive for power. Ambition is a lovely tool, for while it is unpredictable, that is what makes it so predictable.”

Yup. This bitch is coo coo for Cocoa Puffs.

The crow spread her wings. “Silence!” And like that, everything went quiet. Suddenly, I had a better idea of just who was running the show. “Remember the pawn’s part in Our plans.” Crow-Lenore turned her calculating eyes toward me. “Thou art integral to Us, human. Now, tell us. Wherefore art thou here?”

“So I can better play my part when I leave.”

“An intelligent answer, Ladarion.” My skin crawled when I realized that Lenore probably knew everything about me. “The serpent, Salamsala, wants thee to follow the sun; this is why thy head acheth during the day. However, We wish for thee to take thy adventure to where the North Star leadeth thee. Simple, is it not?”

“Very. Just… what’s in it for me?”

“We are feeling unusually generous upon this day, so how dost this rest with thee: We, being masters of fear, will protect thee from the nightmares that have been plaguing thy mind for the better part of a fortnight, and provide a cushion for the worst of the trauma thou hast and will suffer.”

“And perhaps,” said the tall pony, actually smiling, showing me her fanged set of chompers, “I can accompany you in a few of your more… stressful nights,” she said breathily, slowly circling me like a shark preparing for the kill. “Your triumph over the likes of our guardian is a suitable display of prowess, valor, and…” from behind, she brushed her nose past my ear, “...finesse~.”

I shuddered at the implications of her statement ― she wasn’t exactly "subtle" in any sense of the word ― thankful that my face was hidden in its cobweb prison. Or at least, it was before this… night horse willed it away to get a look at my face.

“Hm… You could use some meat on your bones. I don’t believe humans are meant to be so scrawny.”

“I woke up here like this. I’m normally much more healthy-looking back in… wherever I was before I ended up here.”

The Night Mare hummed at that, taking in every curve of my face. I noticed the doctor doing the same, but it felt less lecherous and more… cold, more analytical. It was as though she was dissecting me with her eyes alone. The crow, as per usual, hardly gave a fuck. “You will need to spend more time here, then. We can knock out two birds with one stone if that is the case.” The crow did, however, send a look of mild irritation in the direction of the pony for that idle comment.

Aside from feeling slightly violated and in need of an adult, I didn’t really need to think about much, but there was one more thing picking at me. “What was the reason behind summoning me here, instead of simply telling me what I needed to know? It would have saved us both a lot of time and me a lot of pain.”

The doctor shrugged. “For edification, for amusement.”

I wanted to say something, but decided against it because that might have gotten me turned inside out. Then I wanted to think it, but decided against it because, with these beings likely able to read minds, that might have gotten me turned inside out as well. So I settled on rolling my eyes.

“You gals have got yourselves a deal, then.”

Quoth the raven, “Oh, that part is not so simple, human, We older beings do not cement such heavy deals in such a nonchalant way. There will be blood.” As my eyes widened, she amended her statement. “Our blood, child.”

“And what am I supposed to do with your blood?”

The Night Mare appeared at my side yet again. “What else, mortal? You will imbibe our blood.” She gave a soft, sultry chuckle before again adopting her neutral expression. “Or, depending on how events turn out, our blood will imbibe you.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

As I said that, the room expanded, looking like a dimly lit animus. The Lost Lenores gathered in the center of the room, chanting something in that language spoken by the shadow that raked against my brain with every syllable. In the middle of their chanting, their eyes became completely white, their irises lost in an ocean of strange power. With this change, a jagged sacrificial knife rose from the red, swirling circle that appeared in front of them, symbols that hurt to look at radiating from the glowing, smouldering material the circle was made of. The chanting grew in volume, and so too did the clawing at my brain. With the increase in fervency came greater intensity in the light of the circle, the sacrificial knife spinning faster and faster all the while.

Then the voices suddenly stopped.

The knife levitated in the midst of the trio, the symbols that had been flying around the circle branding its surface, causing it to glow ominously.

“It is ready,” said Lenore, her voice muffled by the plague doctor’s mask. “Now, to set our deal in stone.”

Carefully removing the floating knife from the circle, Lenore whispered more of that dreadful tongue that should have stayed unspoken as she removed a glove, revealing a feathered mockery of a hand. Slowly, reverently, she moved the knife to the palm of her hand, sliding the edge across and drawing blood, which the knife… drank. Passing the knife along, the other two Lenores did the same, and eventually the knife was again floating above the circle.

I was suitably freaked out by the sight. Sure, I wasn’t much of a religious man, but if I were, this entire situation would scream demonic craft to me.

“Ladarion,” called the crow. “The time is now. Come hither and partake.” I let out a shaky breath, sluggishly moving toward the circle. I said a few prayers as tears flowed down my face, hoping against hope for any kind of direct divine assistance at this point in time to stop me from potentially selling my soul since, y’know, I kinda needed that. I felt as though I would begin hyperventilating any second as I pressed my forehead to my balled up hands. I reached the circle and stared dumbly at the knife for a moment, ignoring the stares I was getting. Sticking out a hand after a final fruitless prayer, I grasped the cursed object, lifting it overhead and holding it upside down. The blood flowed toward the tip, and I opened my mouth to allow the blood to flow.

A soft giggle, almost a snicker, sounded from the plague doctor. “Yes. Drink deep of Our blood, Ladarion,” the crow silently commanded. “Feel the spreading corruption burn.” She sweetly tittered. As I stood, mindful to not spill a drop, Crow-Lenore continued. “Now, thou’st accepted thine part in our deal. Savor Our blood, allow it to guide thee. And for the sake of the Darkness, stop whimpering like a snivelling child!”

I tried to pull myself together, but was somewhat distracted when, out of the blue, the plague doctor and the Night Mare fell into an episode of full-bellied laughter.

Huh? “W-What the hell are y’all laughin’ at!? You think it’s funny when someone sells you their fuckin’ soul!?”

The two jerks laughed even harder at that, the circle disappearing as Night Mare pounded her hoof into the ground, howling. “I c-could hardly hold it any longer, haha! He truly thought he was― oh stars above!”

“T-thou shouldst have seen thy face, human,” exclaimed the plague doctor. “We had thee in our palms the entire time!”

As she laughed, I gave the crow a look showing just how utterly lost I was. She wasn’t laughing, but she did have a sly smile on her face as she shrugged her wings. “We assume they are so cheerful because of our success in, how dost thou say, ‘duping’ you.”

I wiped a few stray tears from my face. “D-duping me? This was all just an elaborate ruse?”

The plague doctor spoke up, Night Mare still laughing uncontrollably and rolling around on the floor. “I did not believe thou wouldst be so easy to deceive. The ritual, the blood, all of it was merely for our entertainment. We wanted to see thine reaction, and thou most certainly hast delivered.”

Night Mare tittered, her laughter finally fading despite the humiliation on my face giving her a few more chuckles. “All of that was meaningless. You sealed the deal when you agreed to our terms. Simply put, you just got owned!” She and the doctor shared a giggle at that.

“So… what you mean to say is that you were all just having some ‘harmless’ fun?” I asked, all emotion draining from my voice.

“Precisely.” The crow nodded in affirmation.

“And I was just some source of entertainment for you all?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” the doctor paused at the expression on my face. I’m not sure how kind of absolutely pissed I looked, but it left her speechless. The Night Mare stopped her sniggering as she saw it as well.

“Is this some sort of fucking game to you daft cunts!? Huh!?” my outburst took them all by surprise, everyone backing away slightly but the crow. “I just got out of a fucking life or death situation because of your laziness, and you think you can run me through the ringer and I’ll be alright with it!? What the fuck is wrong with you! I am sick and fucking tired of being treated like a goddamn punching bag! Ever since I’ve gotten to this pitiful reality, everything’s been lining up to hit me and then kick me when I’m down. Well, I’ve had it! I’m done surrounding myself with assholes who want to play with my emotions for cheap laughs! Like I’m nothing but a freak show meant to be pointed at and disregarded as inferior! Fuck! You! Ladarion is out! And I hope you got a good fucking laugh, because that’s the last time I’ll be used!”

With that, I started walking off in a random direction. At the time, anywhere was better than being around those emotional leeches. The plague doctor and Night Mare were likely looking at each other in confusion, and the crow was probably shaking her head in disappointment, ready to fly after me to tell me that I overreacte― “What the hell do you want?”

“We apologize, Ladarion,” the crow replied. “It was not Our intent to anger thee.”

“Well, you did. Why are you apologizing now?”

The crow went silent for a moment. “The idea was Ours. We know We and the other two are… unsettling to behold by visitors. We were merely attempting to… ‘break the ice’, as they say.”

“Good job, then. Instead of feeling like you guys are gonna murder me for saying the wrong thing, I feel like you’re assholes. Congrats.”

Crow-Lenore flinched as if struck. “We didn’t mean thou any―”

I stopped and turned toward her, cutting off her response. Raising a finger, I wanted to say something else harsh before balling my hand into a fist and violently throwing it back to my side. I licked my lips as I took a moment to compose myself. “I just need some time to myself. Alright? Your apology is accepted, because at least you had the decency to say you were sorry for your actions. God fucking knows I hardly ever got that from anyone else in my life.”

“We thank thee, Ladarion. It’s just… it gets very lonely here sometimes with just the three of us…”

“And it’s about to get lonelier. Where’s the exit.”

“B-But thou gave us thine word of acceptance!”

“That don’t mean I ain’t still beyond furious, Lenore. You were watching me the entire time I was going through that fucked up funhouse of yours. You saw just how high-strung I was, yet still you lack so much empathy that you thought it’d be a good idea to lead me on like that. Now, give me an exit or get gone.”

Sighing, the crow nodded in understanding. “We can take thee there right now if thou wish.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

“We… We have seen many friends expire where We are about to send thee. It is a realm over which We have little control.”

“Friend? Don’t get too comfortable. And what do you mean, you don’t have control over where I’m being sent? Don’t you have godly powers?”

“Only in this dimension. We are little more than observers outside of this room, which is why We require the aid of the Capra Demon. And… We consider all who make it to Our realm to be friends.”

“So either they’re your friends, or they’re dead. Great choices, sister. Also, what do you mean about the Capra Demon protecting you? How’s anyone gonna befriend you if he wrecks their shit?”

“Thou art not the first to defeat him, and thou art certainly not going to be the last. He protects Us under oath, and always returns to the world of unlife after being bested.”

“Neat. Now send me out. I need to beat something within an inch of its life, and I'm sure you'd prefer that not be you.”

“Very well. Just… take this.” The crow summoned some kind of saber, sheath and all. “Please take care of thyself.”

“I’ll try,” was my reply.

“Art thou prepared? ” the crow asked.

At my nod, she sent me on my way.

“Thou knowest not the trials ahead of thee.”

Author's Notes:

I enjoyed writing this chapter. It's been a while since I wrote a fighting sequence, but I'm hoping to change that in the near future.

Edit: I just realized that maybe, just maybe, I'm writing a crack fic. It took the fucking appearance of the Capra Demon for me to realize that.

Bigby's Watching

Next stop: Undead Parish! No, wait a minute…

I was standing in the middle of a green pasture. The sky was blue, the sun looked cartoony and had a smiley face, and the cool breeze carried on it the scent of fresh pine.

Oh, and there were Care Bears. “Good day, kind sir!” greeted a bubbly green mustached bear with a monocle, coming only up to my waist. I almost stabbed him in the throat to save myself the displeasure of having to hear his voice. You’ll get your violence in time, Ladarion. “And welcome to our humble―”

“Let’s cut to the chase,” I interrupted. “Y’all got anything that needs to be deadified? I’m in the mood to hurt somethin’.”

“W-What? Why, I would never―”

“That’s a yes or no question, bear. Now answer or I’ll consider hurtin’ you.”

The bear bumbled and looked around nervously before turning back to me, a grave expression on his face. “Come with me, human.” I followed as he about-faced and meandered with some destination in mind. “And for future reference, you may call me Mayor Bear,” he said, tipping his top hat.

“Didn’t ask, but alright.”

“...We have a bit of a walk ahead of us. Why not get to know one another better?”

“Look, friend, for all I know you’re some corrupt psychopath who steals from the poor to line his pockets and is more interested in seeing what use I am as a tool of reckoning than in what value I hold as a person. And at this point, I wouldn’t blame that way of thinking, honestly. So if you’re just wondering what I can do for you, just spill it. No sense wasting both of our time on pointless decorum.”

Amusingly, he didn’t bother telling me that I was wrong. “And what makes you so sure of this conjecture?”

“I’ve been in plenty of places that were friendly and sunshiney on the outside, with an air of innocence meant to ensnare the naive. But underneath that endearing wrapper of sweetness is shit, a world of nightmarish brutality and underhanded contrivances. Places like these are like fly traps in that regard. And I most certainly am not going to be the ignorant little fly if I can help it.”

I looked down at Mayor Bear, the cogs spinning in the fluffy little lad’s head. Finally, he gave a small chuckle as he took off his monocle and top hat. “Hold these, if you would.”

Taking the offered items in hand, I asked, “Why are you giving me… these…” Before my very eyes, the bite-sized, prim Mayor Bear transformed, growing larger and more bestial in appearance. His claws lengthened, his irises shrunk, and his fur darkened in color. I beheld an actual bear.

A grizzly with a Monopoly mustache. Today’s been an interesting day.

Looming over me on his hind legs, the mayor dropped to all fours, huffing in what appeared to be exhaustion as his more predatory gaze returned to me. Growling, he nodded his head toward his back. It took me a moment to take the hint, his sudden growth spurt leaving me speechless. When I collected my bearings, I sheathed the sword, noticing that I had subconsciously drawn it thinking I would need to defend myself, and, shrugging, hopped on Mayor Bear’s back. I made certain to toss his monocle in his top hat, holding it in the hand gripping my sword so as to not provoke the mayor’s ire by accidentally dropping it.

No sooner did I grab the pelt of his neck with a hand when the big green ball of fur took off, bolting at an insane speed. And let me tell you, although that was one less thing on the bucket list (my other two being grow a beard and get back home), that. Shit. Hurt. With every motion, it felt like I was going to literally bust my balls. I’d never ridden anything before, but I tried alleviating my pain to a mild extent by leaning my chest forward, resting it on Mayor Bear’s back, while lifting my crotch as far away from the beast’s back as possible.

Adrenaline boiled in my veins, and since I’d seen my life flash before my very eyes quite a number of times by that point, I chose to cut to the part where I was beating Four-Eyes purple. It wasn’t until the mayor spoke up that I realized we had stopped. “Off,” he ordered, voice deep and guttural.

I swiftly complied, sliding off his back and landing on the ground. Numbly searching the area, I noticed we were in a forest clearing at the foot of a large mountain, a large cave entrance hovering menacingly above. Turning my gaze back to the mayor, I noticed he was staring at me strangely. “I think… I’d’ve preferred… walking and talking,” I said breathlessly.

That got a smile out of him, something I never wanted to see again due to his rows of sharp, flesh-rending teeth. He waved me over, taking the top hat and monocle and putting them on. Again, he shrank down to his original size, standing on two legs. Clearing his throat, Mayor Bear looked to the entrance of the cave. “This is the abode of Bigby, or whom my citizens have taken to calling 'the Big Bad Wolf’.” My heart sunk at that. “He has kidnapped one of the residents of the forest, a young lass named Little Red Riding Hood, after devouring and posing as her grandmother. Other crimes to which he is guilty include the slaughter of a mine of elves, the vandalization of private property belonging to a family of pigs, and making a young boy cry.” Mayor Bear grimaced, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, quite the brute indeed. You may do whatever is necessary to return the girl to safety, but be warned, the wolf is a master of deception. Few have had the grit to face him, and fewer still have had an encounter with the Big Bad Wolf and lived to tell the tale. You don’t earn a title like that without living up to it, I suppose.” Mayor Bear abruptly turned and began walking away, waving a paw. “Well, in you go, then. Use any action necessary to bring the girl back. Alive, of course. Exercise caution, don’t die, yada yada, and, oh!” He turned right back around. “Take this handkerchief. Wouldn’t want a strong, fearless individual such as yourself worrying over ruining his attire with the tears and blood of a ferocious, ghastly maneater, hm?”

Confusion, and a little more dread, racked my mind as I took the item from the bear, wondering where the hell he pulled it from. “What do I get out of this?”

Mayor Bear rose a brow. “Oh, the simple joy of helping out your fellows doesn’t strike you as its own reward?” he asked sarcastically. At my blank stare, he sighed. “Feh, everyone’s a critic,” he whispered. He spoke up again, looking at me with a shrewd gaze. “No need to worry, friend. I will see to it that you are handsomely rewarded upon the return of the living Red Riding Hood. Gold and blood, that should suit a hunter such as yourself.”

Before he turned again, I called, “Wait!”

“Ugh, what is it now, ape?”

“How am I supposed to get back to you if I’ve never even stepped foot in your town?”

That got a grim smile out of him. “Lovey Dovey Township, ‘where the sun is bright, and smiles are brighter!’” The smile then dropped back to a neutral face. “Follow the North Star should you travel during the night, which I highly recommend not doing; follow Red Riding Hood should you travel during the day. And if that will be all…?” At the nod of my head, he gave a quick bow, spinning on his heel and likely thankful of being rid of me and my questions.

I breathed deeply, trying to rediscover my mental and emotional equilibrium as I stretched my arms and legs, not wanting to be cramped up when I was getting gobbled by Bigby. I bounced around, dancing and probably making a right imbecile of myself in front of the cave, shaking all the heeby jeebies out and psyching myself up for the next big near-death experience of my life.

Welp, this is fair enough, I suppose. I did want to fight something, after all…

“Green prick probably don’t really care either way whether I kill Wolfie, Wolfie kills me, or the both of us manage to kill each other. So you know what? Just to spite him, I’m gonna kill this son of a gun so thoroughly, he’ll die to death. That’ll teach him for mocking me.”

Taking the sword in one hand, and my pride in the other, I moved onward into the belly of the beast.

Five minutes later, I was running back out, more of those stupid bats tailing me as I dove into the fading rays of sunlight outside. They all spontaneously combusted, ash piles hitting the ground as I panted.

What are those fuckers made of, paper?

I got back to my feet, feeling much more high strung than usual. I could have blamed it on gas, but I knew that deep down I was scared because this was the first time I would be walking into a dangerous situation willingly, instead of being thrust into one and being forced to rely on my instincts.

I shuffled my feet forward, the flame fueling my desire to fight still burning, but at this point it was merely embers. Why am I doing this? I don’t give a damn about this red riding bitch, I don’t want to fight a giant, deadly wolf, and I definitely don’t need no gold here. It wasn’t a sense of heroism or bravery, so I just chalked it up to me being stupid again, which was in my mind a perfectly legitimate conclusion to arrive to. What’s that saying we all used to hear in elementary school before everyone realized it was just a crock of malarkey? “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but wolves will never eat me?” Something like that, right? Right.

Every shadow still creeped me the fuck out, and I made sure to turn my heart-torch on every one that even looked at me funny. Trying to control my breathing, I moved deeper into the bowels of the cave. All around me were shadows, but fortunately, the further I traveled, the less I seemed to be concerned about them reaching out and grabbing me. Apparently Lenore had kept her word.

I was much more stable by the time I crawled through a child-sized crack in the wall. I fought off my claustrophobia with greater ease than I’d been anticipating, only beginning to worry when, after about sixty seconds, I wondered just how long this little tunnel stretched on into the cave.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, I pulled myself out of the other side, thankful that I was starved in this dimension as I would have otherwise gotten stuck at a few of the narrower points in that accursed hole. There was a bit of dried blood as well as a torn piece of what I assumed to be Red Riding’s hood.

Oh Rotkäppchen, wo bist du? Bist du tot? Lebst du noch? Hopefully your Grimm tale hasn’t ended in tragedy, else my efforts here would have been for naught.

Using the handkerchief Mayor Bear sent me off with, I wiped some of the sweat off of my face. I picked up the torn piece of Little Red’s cloak and pocketed it, at least wanting to show that I had the balls to enter Bigby’s lair to retrieve at least some part of her. It was for my own reassurance, if nothing else.

Since I was stealthing it out, I was thankful that my heart was only on a low simmer as opposed to a blaring glow. I was on top of some ledge, looking down into a dark, dank cavern with a large pool beneath me. Great, so the wolf can swim, too. I carefully set the saber, sheathed of course, between my teeth, breathing anxiously through my nose while trying desperately not to look down. I carefully, ever so carefully, grasped the edge of the ledge, sliding my feet off and not making any movement until one of them found purchase, then the next. I continued my way down at an agonizingly slow pace ― drop one foot, find a slide, move one hand, find another, drop the other foot, find a slide, move one hand, find another.

And so were the proceedings until― “Oh, sh―!” I desperately grabbed for something, anything, to hold myself up, but alas, gravity always wins in an uphill battle. Fortunately, I was out of breath, so I couldn’t shout or cry out like I wanted to, which would have alerted the Big Bad Wolf. Unfortunately, however, my flop into the pool, and the splashing sound that created that echoed across the cavern walls, most definitely did bring to his attention that someone was trespassing in his home.

Panic flowed through my withering lungs as I flapped my arms and legs around in an attempt to right myself. I quickly swam to the surface, feeling as though I had just run into a brick wall, before distress poisoned my already fractured sense of security. I dove back down, having some trouble seeing in the dark, but feeling myself drawn to another presence in the water that seemed bottomless. To my relief, I found my blade sinking at the speed of a snail’s sprint, so I reached out to grab it. Sword in hand, I directed my gaze back up, prepared to break the surface of the water, when, gazing right back at me from above, was a set of piercing, yellowish eyes attached to a terrifying maw. It was Bigby.

I just wanted to let myself drown at the unnerving sight.

With the hunt on, the walking terror leapt across the pool, an action so deft and smooth that I could only register the movement as though it were done by a black apparition. No noise, no disturbance. This thing was just as intelligent and murderous a predator here as it was in the fables. That gave me no grounds for hoping I’d be able to get out of this with my pride, or body, intact.

Well… fuck. There goes the element of surprise, and any hope for a nonconfrontational rescue. Today’s been a very interesting day.

Remembering that I was suffocating in the meanwhile, I made my way as silently as I could while drowning to the surface. My head rose above the water, and I had the sword at the ready. Since I was an amateur who was in way over his head, I couldn’t wipe the water away from my face without again falling under and my sword wasn’t drawn.

Quick as I could manage, I drifted over to one of the edges of the pool, clearing my face of the water and pulling out the saber, searching the area. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Whereas in almost every other encounter, I was in a head-to-head fight, this time it was less like I was in a fight and more like I was just prey. Bigby could have been anywhere. He was impossibly agile and had a reputation for his cruelty and cunning. I wasn’t looking to kill a mere animal; I was looking to square up against the Big Bad Wolf himself! And I had stepped into his lair, his hunting ground. A blood-thirsty gaze poked and prodded at me from every angle, and it was all I could do to not drop my sword and make a break for the wall, because some primal part of me knew that was when he would strike. He would go in for the kill when I was broken.

I slowly crept along into a ravine nearby, wincing at every squelchy footfall I made that seemed to resonate across the entirety of what I considered a tomb. My heart’s glow again picked up in the darkness, my fear acting as a catalyst for its intensity. Crap! I know he’s watching me, but I’ve got absolutely no chance of hiding when I’m lit up like a book in Berlin! The cave growled at me, threatening to swoop up from behind and tear out my throat. Spinning around, I held my sword at the ready, expecting to find terror incarnate stalking me. I wasn’t so lucky as to even catch a glimpse of him.

Now suitably panicked, I fell to my knees, clutching my heart as I fought to keep by rapid breathing under control. Lightheadedness, despair, paranoia, my mind was fertile ground for the cultivation of all these emotions and more, and I only snapped out of it when I saw something speed across the ravine overhead.

Don’t give up just yet, Coleman. My high school football coach’s voice cut through my mind. You’ve come this far, don’t let everything you’ve worked for come crashing down because of some fleeting hardship!

“Y-Yes sir, Coach Garvey,” I wheezed, picking myself up. “No idea where the hell you came from or why my mind chose you of all people to offer me words of motivation, especially since you were arrested for sexually harassing one of the cheerleaders, but I’d be a fool not to say those words probably saved my life.” These words were all whispered, of course.

Recentering myself, I continued through the ravine, the silence deafening and the darkness encompassing. I jumped at every pebble that fell, thinking the beast had grown tired of waiting and was preparing to tear me apart. The walls got tighter and tighter as I walked, claustrophobia again picking at me.

It wasn’t until I discovered that I was out of the gorge that my little episode receded, leaving me to scan my surroundings, finding myself in a stone clearing with a few side paths carved into it. The sound of whimpering came to my ears, and my focus was taken by… “Little Red?” Oh thank God! “Little Red!” I approached the small crying girl. She was crouched down, facing away from me, but her distinctive red hood was impossible to miss. Relief washed over me as I drew closer. “Listen, I know you’ve been through some rough times, but we need to go right now. Bigby’s comin’, and I need you,” her sobbing stopped when I placed a hand on her shoulder, “to pull yourself together so we can escape with our lives. Alright?”

The poor girl sniffled, asking in a quiet, trembling voice. “Okay. You’ll keep me safe from him, right? Safe from the Big Bad Wolf?”

If it comes down to that, that depends on just how fast those little legs of yours can carry you. “Of course I will. Now, you ready?”

Without turning to me, she placed a hand that was distinctly not human on the ground. “Thank you, mister. Thank you. I knew you’d come to save me.” Her voice dropped several pitches, the ‘little girl’ stretching and standing high above me, revealing long, hairy, doglike legs that connected to a lean body. “I’m so glad to have someone to play with.”

Bigby turned and glowered at me from underneath the red hood, a savage grin gracing his lips. “Little Red, what big everything you have,” I choked out, my throat suddenly dry.

The next few moments were not very happy ones.

Author's Notes:

A wild wolf appeared!

Stumped

Mayor Bear sat in his office lazily perusing stacks of paperwork. He offered his signature of approval to the humble request of a pup who wished for there to be a small town festival for his birthday, smiling softly at the innocence in the childish scrawling. It certainly took him back to the days when he was but a carefree cub. In the midst of his spell, however, the horrified shouting of his secretary and the weak growls of something predatory snapped him back to the present.

A stomp-stomp-stomping came tromp-tromp-tromping down the hall outside of his office following the sudden silence of Lavonia’s startled screams. Yet, as Mayor Bear tensed, ready to tear apart the intruder who dared harm his subordinate, a hurried scurrying of pawpads came tapping toward the outside of the door. More muffled whispers. Then came what he assumed was the light knocking of Lavonia.

“Come in!” Mayor Bear said, readying his claws under his desk.

The door handle turned, and the door was pushed slightly ajar. Lavonia poked her head in after a moment and he felt a sense of relief wash over him.

“Lavonia, are you alright? What in the blazes is going on out there?” asked Mayor Bear.

“O-Oh, it’s something, er, someone who w-wanted to see you, Mayor Bear,” she said in a trembling voice, her eyes watering. “He brought along a―”

And the door slammed open, me shadowing over both her and Mayor Bear, a large, imposing figure with a face wreathed in shadow. The act shattered when I slumped against the door frame, panting exasperatedly as I clutched what remained of my hand. My sword, too, was lost to the bowels of Bigby.

Mayor Bear regarded me with raised brows. “Lavonia, you’re dismissed.”

“But―”

“Dismissed!” he repeated. She scurried back out of the room. When the secretary was out of earshot he looked at me.

“Where is the girl?”

“Little Red’s doing fine. A bit shaken, but she’ll manage.”

“Where. Is. She.” he repeated.

“Out in the lobby,” I pitifully responded. Holding my ruined extremity against my chest, I squeaked in frustration. “Damn this hurts like hell!”

“You knew the risk, ‘hunter’. Quite honestly, I’m surprised you survived that ordeal.” Mayor Bear stepped out from behind his desk, walking over to me and taking my hand to examine it closely. “You were fortunate. Very fortunate. Nevertheless, I shall go check on Little Red Riding Hood and get her situated. I have no doubts that she is scared and confused. You’ll get your reward in due time.” With that, he left.

I shakily exhaled, sliding down to the floor in exhaustion. I died back there. No wait, I mean I should have died back there. Was this real? Did I really lose my hand to the Big Bad Wolf? He was just a fairy tale! But so was magic up until a few weeks ago. I now had the regenerative capabilities of Wolverine for biting into a strange piece of fruit, but my stump wasn’t healing just yet. What is real? I needed time to think, time to think, think, think!

A chill shot through my spine as the temperature of the room fell. The light was consumed by a churning darkness, and the shadows morphed and merged. It hurt to look at. Out of the shadows stepped a familiar figure. I recognized her by those piercing eyes, and that smug grin.

“The Night Mare…” I breathed. For a moment, the hair on my neck stood and my mangled hand was forgotten.

“Greetings, Ladarion,” she spoke, actually spoke!, with a smooth contralto that carried both comfort and menace. “So nice to see you so soon after our unpleasant first encounter. Surely you are wondering why I am here.”

I looked at her with great trepidation. My breathing picked up, and the world around me blurred as she walked forward with a practiced gait fit for royalty.

“You have been busy,” she said. “But tell me, why is it the first thing you do upon being thrown into a new world is pick a useless fight with one of its most dangerous creatures! Do you realize you could have died!?”

I mumbled something, my fearful gaze not leaving her furious eyes, yet staring at something a thousand yards away.

“Say that louder, mortal.”

“Y-yes…”

Her eyes widened, and immediately she stepped away. “I-Is this because of what we did in the chamber? Are you saying this is my fault?” I didn’t respond. “...Allow me to see your hand, Ladarion.” She yanked my stump away from my chest, causing me to grunt in discomfort. Looking over the grisly wound with an experienced eye, she pursed her lips. “I will not be able to do anything for this injury.”

“Why not!?”

“This ‘guardian’ of yours. His magic, strange as it is, is more likely to reconstruct your hand in such a manner that it is fully functional upon its restoration. Try as I might, I am not as well versed in the anatomy of humans as I am with ponies. I may also do more harm than good should he have some safeguard against powerful magic. You will have to wait this out.”

Before I could respond, Mayor Bear opened up the door. The Night Mare grimaced when the light touched her and slithered away into a corner of the room.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” he said. “I see you and Mr. Ladarion here have some history together.”

“Mayor Bear,” she growled. “How long were you eavesdropping?”

“My dear Princess, this is my office, and there is a man missing a hand inside of it. I have every reason to be concerned when there is more than one voice coming from within.” He turned to me, carefully looking over my hand. "As for you, sir, I have come with your reward.” He opened his paw and placed what was within in my remaining hand. “Thank you for bringing her back.”

With that he left.

I looked at the device, the Night Mare approaching as the door shut. “What a troublesome little bear…” she muttered.

I pocketed the thing, not particularly caring about what function it served. A sudden wave of drowsiness overtook me.

“I’m exhausted.”

The Night Mare grimaced. “Then you may sleep here. Mayor Bear will accommodate you for as long as necessary." After checking me for more injuries, her horn glowed and everything faded away.

Disequilibrium

“Hawkeye, I’m fine.”

“Fine!? I don’t know what constitutes as ‘fine’ for you humans, but something tells me you shouldn’t be shooting electricity around with abandon while you sleep. That sounds like the exact opposite of fine!”

We’d been going on like this for the past twenty minutes.

We were both chained up again, around our wrists and ankles. I ran a hand down my face, still shaken at having lost it in a dream. Or was I dreaming right now? “Listen, I’m sure you want an explanation for…” I turned for a moment to regard the charred part of the floor where I slept. “...Well, everything, but I don’t know what’s going on!”

Hawkeye scoffed. “Oh, I’m sure you know plenty! Ladarion, you’re perfectly welcome to introduce yourself to a tub or something when we get out of here ― believe me, I wouldn’t stop you ― but I have to know that you won’t have some kind of nuclear meltdown in the near future that’ll vaporize everything within a mile-wide radius. Especially when we’re in this small cart!”

“You’re overreacting.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I’m underreacting. I’m being very reasonable by not doing the first thing that comes to mind and removing the threat before it grows to endanger everyone, which includes me, here!”

I kneeled down, lifting my chin and presenting my neck. “Then if it’s such a concern, just kill me and be done with it. I’m sick of listening to your bluster.”

She silently drank in the sight of me putting myself at her mercy, but refused to move.

“I can see it in your eyes, griffin. Your fury, your fear, your uncertainty. I live for this. To make your ilk suffer. You’ll get no apologies from me for your useless wing because I have nothing for which to apologize. Given the opportunity, I’d do it again.”

As I goaded her, her repressed anger became palpable.

“You want so badly to end my life, don’t you? Here’s your chance. Or are you too afraid?”

Hawkeye looked ready to pounce, her eyes drifting from my own down to my exposed neck. An amused snort erupted from me. Her gaze then drifted down to her tightened fist.

“Monster…” she breathed. “To think you are the same person who boasted of not believing in fate or having others dictate his life. To think you are the same person who said balance can only be achieved from within. To think you are the same person who broke my wing...!”

Just as I thought she was going to act, her hand quivering violently, she closed her eyes. Tears streamed down her face for a moment as she struggled to compose herself.

‘Yes. Yes! Come on, then,’ I thought to myself, a rueful smile worming its way to my face. ‘Don’t you dare hold out on me, you rotten coward!’

Hawkeye growled, shaking her head as she closed her free hand, the talons raking across the ground. Then she went silent. My heart glowed bright, and I clenched the burning red stone in my grasp as I bathed in the atmosphere.

In what felt like an eternity, she finally let loose a sigh.

“No.” My grin vanished. I glared a thousand winters at the weakling. “I’m not going to allow you to keep getting to me like this.” Her shoulders slumped, and her talons uncurled, revealing that cursed coin she insisted on keeping in her possession. “You’ve just revealed to me that you are the coward here. Too afraid of anything to accept responsibility when given his own choices; too afraid of anything to be his own man just because he’s faced with hardship; too afraid to live." She looked me in the eyes, a fire burning within hers. “To think you are the same person who broke my wing… It’s insulting.”

I snarled, grabbing her and slamming her into a wall of our moving cage. “Rraaaaaaaugh​!”

Wrapping a hand around her windpipe, I began strangling her. I began slamming her against the wall over and over again, lost in a rage. “You weak! Useless! Mockery of nature! See how easily I can end your miserable existence? I’ll show you what mercy gets you!”

Hawkeye grabbed my wrist, fighting for air. I cackled when I watched her struggle. Then, she looked at me, determined, and spoke. “And too afraid to take a life…” A vein swelled in my forehead. “You- you’re nothing.”

My grasp on her loosened, and she fell to the floor, hacking and holding a claw to her throat. I stepped away, my fingers pressing into my scalp with unrelenting force as my eyes shifted erratically. Again I fell to my knees. “No. You’re wrong,” I muttered. “You’re wrong, you’re wrong, you’re wrong!”

A sharp pain exploded from my back, and I found myself face-down on the floor. A weight quickly settled upon me, keeping me from retaliating, and my head was lifted up by the hair. I grunted when a talon pressed against my neck. Hawkeye breathed heavily, and I could feel her glaring lasers into the back of my skull.

“You wanna know the difference between us, Ladarion? When I say something, I mean it. I’m not so caught up in pitying myself that I disregard the emotions of others." I futilely tried to free myself. "I'd be doing you a damn favor were I to kill you. You’re broken! What a waste of time you’d be if you perished here, considering I spent the past two days feeding you and getting you those pills while you slept. But you know what? If you want to die so badly, then just die!” She let my head fall back to the floor.

I mumbled something, trembling.

“What was that?”

I turned my head, revealing the tears pouring from my eyes. “I said I’m not nothing!” I sobbed. “I am important to someone!”

Hawkeye’s mouth quivered at that, and she bit back her retort. “Don’t come near me. Tomorrow we’ll break out as planned, but as soon as that happens you’re on your own.” She sat forlornly in a corner of the confined space, not looking or speaking to me, but staring at the coin.

Sniffling, I curled up in my own end of the cart. I wiped at my eyes. “I am important to someone…”