The ponies who had pulled themselves from their beds to see the dawn were rewarded with a rare sight: the monster that had plagued them now boiled in the lake. They gathered on balconies, congregated on skywalks, and gathered together on the long bridges that separated the trees. Being gregarious sorts, they chatted together, said good morning to each other, and were generally pleasant to one another as they greeted the dawn.

In the lake, the tentacled monster sizzled in the water, its blackened, charred remains bubbled when touched by the light. Already, a terrible smell was in the air, but so relieved were the ponies that the menace lurking in the lake had been destroyed that they didn’t pay much notice. The atmosphere held a general feeling of celebration.

One pony stood apart from the others. Wearing a broad brimmed hat that was only just a little ratty looking, he sat eating breakfast, unconcerned about the whole event. His entire focus was on his meal, and not on the remains of the monster frying in the golden rays of dawn. He ate with impeccable manners, one might even say he had an aristocratic mien to him. He seemed out of place somehow, too fancy, too refined, too well-heeled and genteel for his crude surroundings.

The other standout was shiny, she was slinky, she was big, black, and inky. In general, the smaller ponies gave her space, but she was not unwelcome. Somewhat bleary eyed, she stood at the rail, her talons gripping it, and she watched the final destruction of the tentacled pony-devouring horror that had lurked in the lake.

As one source of trouble died, another came along to take its place…

Dim found himself quite enjoying this rare moment of calm. Tortoise-Tuga lacked this, because it had not been a safe place, a wholesome place conducive to resting. While he did not lower his guard, he did relax a little. Baumhaus was an idyllic place that was entirely unique and he hadn’t experienced anything quite like it. He sighed, not an expression of ennui, but one of satisfaction, and felt a faint twinge of remorse because the waters of the lake were a bit befouled.

At least fresh water wasn’t a concern. Several streams and one river flowed into the lake basin, so the town’s source of potable water hadn’t been destroyed. In time, Dim hoped, the lake would clear up. At least, for a time. He thought of what Gesundheit had said and knew that, with time, this place would grow, and eventually, the sheer number of bodies living here would begin to pollute the environment. Such was the way of things. The wilderness existed to be consumed in the name of progress, and sophistication—a cancer—grew across the face of the world. Beauty existed to burn and the fires of progress would propel civilisation ever onwards.

Factories were dragons, consuming wealth and resources, only to belch out smoke and ash. Vast armies of workers existed now—the peasantry—and they toiled away in endless labour to serve the whims of these dragons, feeding them, tending to them, and hauling away their excrement so it could be peddled amongst the peasants. The same peasants who slaved away to earn a few coins so that this excrement exchange could be facilitated. Sitting in his chair, Dim wondered if the world had been a better place when the nobles had provided for the peasantry and they had not been left to fend for themselves. This new exchange seemed unfair to him—the peasants laboured far too much, they gave too much of themselves, and in return, seemed to have so little. The dragons, these factories, were not kind, generous lords that provided well for their subjects.

“Mister Dark…”

Dim’s thoughts collapsed like a house of cards. “I don’t recall giving you my name.”

“Blackbird told me. Please, don’t be upset with her.” Gesundheit moved out of Dim’s peripheral vision and into full view. “Mister Dark, I wanted to thank you for your kindness with Fancy Chancy. She’s coming around… a bit slow, but she’s getting better. You did the right thing. She is an excellent cook and she shows much talent with her developing skill.”

Dim did not reply, but gave favour to silence.

“Every great story begins in some way,” Gesundheit said to Dim, “and there are only two great stories. A pony… a creature, they leave home and go on a journey. The other is that a stranger comes to town. For me and my story, a stranger came to town. Two of them. Now I have a town free of the menace in the lake.” The pegasus sat down in a chair beside Dim, let out a sigh, and rested his forelegs against the unyielding edge of the table.

Silence continued to pour from Dim in an never-ending stream.

“Look, Mister Dark, I won’t bother you. I just wanted to say that I am glad that our plot lines crossed and I feel that both of our stories are better for our meeting. My story, I feel, is a simple one. This place, Baumhaus, it is my story. This is my life’s dream, I think. I am starting up a city from scratch. How many ponies can say they’ve done that?” Gesundheit cleared his throat and then smiled. “You of course, are going to go on and do other things. There are many towns with monsters in their lakes, Mister Dark. The world needs monster slayers more than it needs those with aspirations of civilisation.” With nothing left to say, the pegasus slid from his chair, then walked away.

Still silent, Dim watched him go.

Deep within Dim, his awakened nature stirred, excited to battle with hidden horrors…

Much to Dim’s annoyance, Blackbird was acting like a disgusting primitive. She was making horrendous faces, hooking her talon-fingers into the corners of her mouth, stretching her cheeks out to ridiculous lengths, and revealing her many somewhat disturbing teeth. Her eyes crossed, she made rude, disgusting, flatulent noises, and the overall effect of everything she did was quite distracting.

Damnit, someponies were trying to read!

The little ones who watched her every move were giggling, proving beyond any doubt that they too, would grow up to become disgusting primitives. Peering over the top of his book, he watched the little ones as they watched Blackbird. Some of them were still afraid of her, but they were warming up to her.

Unable to read, he shut his book. Blackbird was just too distracting to read about efficient ways to maximise hydrogen yields when preparing for a fireball. Casting a good fireball was an artform, a creative process, and the end result demanded a spectacular conclusion. A little hydrogen would get you a good woosh, but thaumaturgically charging hydrogen atoms and compressing them into an area would yield spectacular pillars of fire, such as the one he had summoned last night.

The fireball was a spell that just begged for personalisation, something that made it unique to the caster. The atmosphere was filled with all manner of flammable gasses, and the aether was just begging to be tapped into. It was Dim’s obsession, and he was irked to have his muzzle pulled out of his book.

“Get inside, all of you, now!” a pegasus mare barked, and all of the foals vanished in an eyeblink.

A crowd began to gather, and Gesundheit flapped down to the balcony where Dim was sitting. Dim, feeling the first pangs of alarm, adjusted his hat and waited. A little bird sat on Gesundheit’s head, chirping away, and something about the little songbird seemed panicked. Other pegasus ponies came out, and the old diamond dog, far too old, loped along a skywalk.

“We have a visitor who bears much darkness,” Gesundheit announced while the bird tweeted away on his head. “The animals say that the ground shrivels at his touch. Come, let us go and greet our guest. I really hope there will not be trouble. Can I ask you for help, my friend?”

Behind his goggles, Dim blinked and felt an itch between his ears. “Of course.”

Coming to a halt, Dim reached out with his senses. All of them reacted, all six of them, but he focused on one in particular, his magic sense. There was something rotten about this unicorn that approached, and some strange, lingering energy clung to him. Long distance teleporter? Perhaps. It seemed likely.

“I have no desire for trouble,” the unicorn said, announcing his intentions. “I only wish to speak to you, Dim Dark. You vanished for a time, and we were quite worried that you were dead. You somehow became quite invisible to us. It is good to see you alive and breathing.”

“I do not know you,” Dim replied. “Do not speak to me in a familiar manner, you disgusting primitive.” There was a prickle along his spine when he realised that this was not a workable defensive position, there were too many ponies and other creatures around him, all of whom could be hurt. Something deep within him balked at this protective notion, and he felt a strange stirring of confusion.

“I did not come here to threaten or coerce you,” the strange unicorn said. “It is not my intention to fight you. My goal is to parley. I am a messenger and nothing more. You’re no fool and I know for certain that you can sense that I am no real threat to you.”

Something else lingered on the edges of Dim’s perceptions and he strained to sense it…

“I came with explicit instructions to not be a threat to any of you.” The unicorn removed his hat, a somewhat battered looking derby with a bright green ribbon. “Parley. Discussion. Surely, you won’t kill the messenger, will you Dim, Chosen of House Dark?”

“I do so enjoy killing the messengers when I happen upon them,” Dim deadpanned. “It’s the look of surprise on their faces, it moves me.” He felt his ears prick beneath his hat when he heard the satisfying gulp of fear from the visitor. “You were foolish to come here. Why should I talk to you?”

“Because if you don’t, my associate will set the woods on fire and everything here will burn. I have explicit instructions to not be a threat, but he doesn’t.” The expression upon the unicorn visitor’s face was one of fearful worry. “No rest, no shelter, no place to hide Dim… we will keep coming, we will find you, and every place you go, you will bring danger with you.”

To Dim’s left, there was an ominous click, a dreadful sound, and he knew exactly what it was. He didn’t dare look away though. Every muscle quivered, his stomach clenched, and there was a powerful, powerful need for a cube of coca-laced salts. Reaching out with his mind, he tried to feel around with his magic sense, hoping to find what he had first sensed moments ago. There was indeed another, and Dim began to home in on his location as best he could.

“Your plan is a steaming pile of minotaur shit.” Dim gave the stranger a nod. “Eventually, Grogar will run out of morons to do his bidding. Although… the world is full of idiots. I have no qualms about killing you all. I have already set your master on fire.”

“And he is quite upset about that!” the unicorn stranger replied. “But he is willing to forgive you. Like it or not, Dim, you are one of us! The final spell was cast and even now, your mother’s magic begins to transform you. You must understand, you have no choice but to come to us. The final plan has been set into motion. That is what I was sent here to tell you.”

Try as he might, he could not stop his mind from racing. A cold sweat gathered along his belly, and he wondered why he had been invisible on Tortoise-Tuga. How had he not been seen? This mystery was a distraction, a distraction he didn’t need, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it. His clenching stomach caused a wave of nausea that almost overwhelmed him, and Dim realised that he was sick. There was no longer any denying it and wishing it would go away, he was ill.

“Why be so honest?” Blackbird’s voice was demanding and commanding.

“If you would just come with me, we could discuss this.”

The stranger took a step forwards, there was a thunderous roar that echoed through the trees, and everything from the neck up on the stranger exploded into something resembling chunky, lumpy marinara. The sound of ponies puking filled the air and Blackbird let out a startled squeak. The body stood there for a moment, quivering, and then fell over, flopping down into the dirt before the headless neck began spurting out a flood of crimson that stained the ground.

“It moved!” Blackbird’s voice was a shrill, panicked whine. “It moved! It was an accident! It was an accident, I swear! You’re not supposed to move when a gun is pointed at you! Oh, this is horrible! Does this make me a bad Blackbird? Oh no! What would my father say! Oh this is bad… bad… BAD! My talon twitched!”

So mighty was the blast from Blackbird’s revolver that Dim now had trouble hearing.

One hind leg twitched and with each feeble kick, a little more blood spurted out from the gaping neck-holes. A growing puddle began to spread around the body and there was no sign of anything resembling a head anywhere to be seen. An empty hat that would never know a head again lay in the puddle of scarlet. The trees directly behind the body were stained red with mist.

Blackbird stammered, trying to get more words out, but no words came, only a fountain of puke that came arcing out and shot for a considerable distance. She puked again, her mighty wings pumping against her sides, and she almost dropped her massive revolver. In a moment that could only be described as gentle understanding—or perhaps a fear of being obliterated if the gun fell—Dim plucked the cannon from her grip, flicked the safety, and slid the gun back into its well oiled holster.

“Look after her,” Dim commanded while he turned to look at a terrified Gesundheit. “I must go and deal with the second. Do you have a plan for what to do if there is a forest fire?”

Gesundheit nodded, but could not reply as he was fighting back the urge to be sick.

“I go.” And then, Dim was gone in a flash of magic.

Author's Notes:

Next chapter: Dim struggles to do right.