Mortality Realized

by _No_One_Remains_

Chapters

Day One: Desert Reunion

I find this rain quite pleasant. It is as if the raindrops are blessing our victory.

“H-hey Mr. 111, do you see this?!”

“I-it can’t be!”

“Is it…really him?”

Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past; though we hope for promising years. After shedding a thousand tears, yesterday's sorrow constantly nears. And while the moon still shines blue, by dawn it will turn to scarlet hue.

“He’s injured, that’s a fact…”

“Should we help him, Mr. 33?”

“No way! He played with our lives like toys!”

“But what would Vivi think?”

“It doesn’t matter. Let’s just leave him to rot.”

Just you wait, Garland! And you too, Zidane! I’ll exact sweet revenge upon you both for insulting me! I’ll make the people of both Gaia and Terra know who rules over all of them!

“Didn’t Mr. Braeburn say we should help anyone in need?”

“I don’t think he included ‘dangerous psychopaths’ in there anywhere.”

“But, doesn’t he feel different to you?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

What comedy! Zidane, isn't it hilarious!? I'll die just like the black mages I so despise! I single-handedly brought chaos unto Gaia, but in the end, I'm nothing but a worthless doll! ...I won't let it happen. I won't...I won't let this world exist without me!

“When he came to the village offering us longer lives, he had a dark aura all around him.”

“Yeah, what’s your point?”

“He doesn’t have that aura anymore. If anything, he feels sad and remorseful.”

“…”

“Can’t you feel it?”

“I guess you’re right…”

After you guys beat me, I had nothing left...nothing more to lose. Then, I finally realized what it means to live... I guess I was too late.

“Fine, we’ll take him to town and see what Mr. Braeburn says.”

“I’m sure he’s changed since we last saw him.”

“For everyone in Equestria’s sake, I hope you’re right…”

“We gotta give him a chance, anyway.”

“…*cough*…”

“He’s waking up!”

“…*wheeze*…”

“I guess we’ll find out if he’s evil really soon…”

“…Where…am I?”

I remember so clearly. My army of soulless puppets ripped Burmecia to shreds. I loved it all. I loved the bloodshed and violence. I needed to hear the cries of the people’s sufferings. They were like sweet dessert to me. But I was a fool. I worked for years to gain the power I lusted after, just so I could overthrow the master that had created me.

I had no clue that I had an expiration date. Garland was smarter than I anticipated. He designed me so that I would die once his second puppet came of age. My mind shattered after learning that I remained mortal, even with my power. In the end, I was defeated by Zidane and his friends. I regained my senses, and finally felt what it truly meant to live…and fear death. Even though I brought chaos to his home, that monkey risked life and limb to save me from the dying Iifa Tree.

He sat by me underneath that damnable tree. He comforted me during my dying breaths. I can’t understand why he would come so close to killing himself just to protect me. I nearly destroyed Gaia and everyone on it, yet he still showed me mercy…

But now I’m here, in this colorful little world. I awoke in a desert just outside of a small town. I even crossed paths with two of the Black Mages I had created and manipulated. The fact that they didn’t snuff out my life while I was weak speaks loud for their characters as soulless beings. I suppose if Vivi could contain enough emotion to Trance, then why can’t these weaker models?

No, I mustn’t speak of them as toys. They are people here, just like me. What’s more, they actually carried me to the local medical facility to be restored to health. Despite my power in the other world, I seem to have lost most of it here. Perhaps it’s because of the complete absence of Mist. Yet there is a presence in this world similar to Mist, yet more welcoming and comfortable to the touch. I doubt I could’ve reached this town on my own in my current state.

The town’s head source of law and order, Sheriff Braeburn, has set me up a nice room on the top floor of the local tavern. He seems to be a kind creature, although I can’t understand why he’s named after a type of apple-based dessert. The town is quiet and calm, several steps above the bustling business of Treno and Alexandria. The citizens are friendly, including the two Black Mages.

I’ve noticed a distinct lack of humanoids in this town. Aside from Mr. 33, Mr. 111, and myself, the rest of the residents are small horses. They refer to themselves as ponies, with manes and hooves instead of hair and hands. I suppose that makes sense, considering the country I’m in is known as Equestria, derived from the word ‘equine’…

I’ve done nothing all day but rest in this bed. I’ve had the Black Mages watching my every move, while citizens of the town are systematically arriving to greet me. I can’t stand being useless and defenseless, but I can’t help it in my current state. I must be careful what I write, as Mr. 33 is constantly glaring at my notebook over my shoulder. It’s quite uncomfortable, sir.

I guess I should document my arrival in this world to the best of my ability, just in case I snap again and need an anchor to weigh me back to reality. Nothing in this world or the next can beat the power of foresight, I suppose.

I awoke half-buried in sand with a mouth as rough as sandpaper, the taste of iron immediately evoking a gagging fit. I felt as if I were on fire, while my head seemed to be freezing. I was short of breath, while my eyes were blurry with solid white light. My only comfort was the light breeze that graced my features every so often. Despite my horrid position, I had no ability to alter it, as my muscles were essentially paralyzed.

The wretched taste eventually subsided, and I regained a semi-normal state of consciousness. I began to hear faint voices in the distance, slowly approaching my location. Unable to actually communicate, I simply waited in the hopes that whoever owned those voices would trip on my body or notice the awkward object in the sand. It didn’t take long before a conversation erupted in my ears.

The two black mages stopped right by me and began their debate as to whether or not they should help me. I finally worked up enough energy to cough again; they made a decisive answer. Mr. 111 conjured out of nowhere a solid block of ice and lowered it close to me, hoping to cool me off. It worked enough that I was able to regain all my senses. Mr. 33 leaned down and draped my arm over his shoulder, attempting to pull me out of the sand. With some good effort, he finally dislodged my abdomen from the sediment that grasped me.

Mr. 111 had the bright idea to use a wind spell to remove the rest, which worked moderately well. I received a few minor scratches from the razor wind, but the sand took the blunt force. They took an arm and draped me over them, then began to head back in the direction they had approached from. The sudden movement restarted my blood circulation, making my muscles begin to loosen. It only took a few minutes for me to begin limping between the two, albeit leaving them with majority of the work.

Mr. 111 scoffed, “See Mr. 33, if he was evil, he’d kill us right here!”

His companion scoffed, “The bastard can barely move. He’ll wait until he’s fully prepared to destroy the world before he thinks of killing us.”

I groaned, “You’re correct…but…no more…” I was only semi-conscious, and I highly doubt either mage caught my voice in the sandy expanse of desert.

“Well, we’ve already done half the work. Let’s just get him to Mr. Braeburn and see if we can’t get him back to health!” Mr. 111 seemed too excited to be taking care of me, despite his thoughts on my changing nature.

Mr. 33 was slightly more realistic in his beliefs. He chuckled, “We’re talking about the guy that manufactured us just to start a mass war on the Mist Continent. Do we really want him back to health?”

The happy mage sighed, “You sure know how to be a buzz kill, 33. You know, if dying brought us to this world, doesn’t that mean he died too?”

“Yeah, it does. And if he died, maybe he won’t be so power-hungry!” If he had had a face, I imagine 33 would have smiled just then. I noticed his golden eyes open slightly wider, though.

I moaned, “No more…power…” Again, my cry went unheard in my weary state.

We continued like this for almost an hour. The two would exchange philosophical musings, and I would utter an inaudible opinion every now and again. Once we finally reached the town of Appleloosa, I was essentially dragged to the local medical facility and examined. I managed to stay conscious long enough for Sheriff Braeburn and the mages to exchange kind words of acceptance towards me.

So here I am, in the top floor of the local tavern, resting in an oddly comfortable bed, being watched by two eager Black Mages that should hold a dangerous vendetta against me. All in all, I feel fairly good. I figure once my energy returns to me, I’ll begin studying this strange world and all of its different kinds of residents. So far, just in the short time I was conscious in the streets I’ve seen Pegasi and unicorns. I wonder what other types of magical creatures live here, and if I might be able to one day fit in.

Coming off of a rage-induced God-complex can be hard for any being. I’ll simply have to see how my days in this world play out. I will try my best to refrain from snapping, but I cannot promise anything. We’ll just have to find out eventually. At any rate, I’m tired and wish to sleep. This journal will have to continue in the morrow, or whenever I find myself bored enough to write in it.

Day Seven: The Discussion

This is beginning to irritate me, honestly. I was hoping by now my energy would’ve returned to me. Alas, that isn’t the case. I’ve been locked in this room for a full week, and I’m still not able to stand on my own two feet. I’ve learned a small bit of information about the history of these creatures, as well as received some interesting books on the mysterious force I considered to be a variation of Mist.

Sheriff Braeburn has been in multiple times over the week, teaching me new things about the town and its residents. He’s explained enough of the pony anatomy and the way Equestria works that I feel I should have no trouble adjusting. That is, of course if I can regain my ability to function properly. I imagine Garland is laughing his ass off in the other world, seeing me disabled like this…

Alas, I cannot get out of this bed. Despite my attempts, and the Black Mages’ assistance, I have been unable to gather the strength necessary to stand, let alone walk. I can only hope this doesn’t last much longer. I’m beginning to get restless, and if I don’t manage some sort of variation in my routine, I may snap earlier than I would like. That’s correct—Mr. 33—I’m on the verge of snapping already.

At any rate, Braeburn and I had a very delightful discussion earlier today, the first notable encounter since my arrival in Equestria. Although his accent makes him seem uneducated and savage, he’s actually a very intelligent equine. I’m glad to see that at least someone in this world can carry on sophisticated conversation with me. It made the situation much more bearable when he dismissed the Black Mages from my room. We had a discussion unhindered by the presence of other creatures.

He arrived early in the morning, at just around sunrise. I couldn’t help but find it strange how he was out and about so early. He entered the room, and before either mage could greet him, he nodded toward the door. Without hesitation or reply, Mr. 33 and Mr. 111 both exited in haste. I began to get nervous, not knowing where this turn of events could be going.

Braeburn approached the side of my bed and nodded at me. He sighed, “Howdy Mr. Kuja. I see ya still ain’t up to snuff.” He pulled the curtains open over the window, letting the surprisingly bright sunlight into the room.

“How very observant of you Mr. Braeburn. I suppose you’re going to tell me that I’m not a pony like yourself next.” I scoffed at the westernized pony, slightly disgusted by his thick accent and lack of grammar.

The golden-colored pony chuckled, “Now there ain’t a need to get smart, Kuja. I don’t mean to offend ya or anything.”

I sighed, “Forgive my rudeness. I’m simply under the weather, as it would be. I have been bedridden for a week and have barely recovered at all.” I had no personal quarrel with the friendly stallion, and as such had no reason to be rude. That being said, my condition limited my patience to a dangerous level.

“S’alright sir. Ya got just about every reason to be upset, as far as I can see.” He carried Mr. 111’s chair from the other side of the room to the side of my bed and took a seat. I decided to prepare myself for an extensive interrogation.

I raised an eyebrow at his comment and asked, “What do you mean by that, Mr. Braeburn?” He didn’t know me to any extent, aside from what the Black Mages may have told him. How could he decide how reasonable my mood was?

He tilted his hat to the side of his head and said, “Well, if I’m to believe what them Black Mages say, then I suppose you’ve had a mild case of death in the last week or so. I also hear you were a nasty fella back in your old place.” He smiled slyly at me, almost as if he had won some kind of game.

I shook my head and groaned, “One shouldn’t be too quick to believe what he hears about another. Though in this case, you would be correct. I have indeed stared death in the face, and it was I who blinked.” His sly grin grew slightly at my confession.

“I figure that’d make anypony useless for a bit.” He leaned back in his chair, shifting to a more comfortable position. “And a useless pony’s a mad pony, ain’t he?”

I pondered that for a few seconds. It was such a simple philosophy, but, looking back on my life in Gaia, it was a true one. I chuckled, “I suppose you are correct, Braeburn. So what is it you wished to speak to me about?”

He dropped his smile and adopted a more serious expression. “Them Black Mages, sparing no detail, have told me all about your little escapades back in your world. You got one heckuva death toll on your shoulders…” I could tell from his eyes that he wasn’t telling me this to be informative. I could see a fire in his eyes, faint and lukewarm, but still existent.

I shifted slightly in my bed, just enough to actually talk to him face to face. I sighed, “That is correct. I have killed, directly or not, thousands of innocent individuals in my previous life. I won’t try to hide that fact. I went so far as to destroy an entire world in a berserk rage.” I paused here to see his reaction; he barely even blinked. I continued, “However, in the very last moments of my life, I was taught what it truly meant to live, and how precious a life can be. My wrongdoings can never be forgiven, but I can try to make amends.”

After a few seconds of intense staring, the pony cracked a smile. He relaxed his muscles and chuckled, “Well, ya gotta chance to do that, I s’pose. You’re alive now; all you gotta do is get better.”

His reaction took me by surprise. I expected him to call me a psycho and cast me out of his town, even with my disability. Instead, he openly offered me a second chance. I asked, “You aren’t afraid of me attempting to do the same thing here as in the other world?” I simply couldn’t believe how easily he’d cast out all of my evil deeds.

“O’ course I’m scared of ya, because I know what ya can do. But…uh…ain’t that what trust is for?” He scratched his head under the front of his hat, a sheepish smile gracing his features.

My jaw physically dropped. I genuinely couldn’t understand his way of thinking at this point. I groaned, “You’re going to give your trust to a complete stranger with a proven past of homicidal tendencies?”

“Shucks no, partner! I’m givin’ my trust to a guy that wants to make up for what he’s done. And ya gotta start somewhere, right? Them Black Mages don’t trust ya yet, but I’m all for lettin’ ya stay around.” He smiled and placed a hoof on my shoulder, his eyes shining with an essence similar to hope. He was too trusting of me. It disturbed me slightly.

I chuckled, “I will do everything in my power to ensure your trust is not misplaced, Braeburn. However, in my current state, ‘everything in my power’ is not a lot…” I raised one hand high in front of me, attempting to stretch it. Sadly, it fell limp on the bed after a few seconds. My lack of energy was frightening me.

“Have ya been eating anything?” my companion asked, turning back toward the stairs.

I shook my head and sighed, “Not quite. I’ve eaten a slice of bread or two, but nothing substantial. I’ve been unable to keep my stomach’s contents down…as Mr. 111 will duly note if you ask him about my health.” It was true. I hadn’t eaten anything since my arrival in town. Everything I did eat ended up gracing my bed mere minutes later.

Braeburn placed a hoof to his muzzle for a few moments, consumed in his thoughts. Just when I was going to snap him out of his delirium, he tossed his hat in the air with a cheer. He whooped, “I gotcha covered Mr. Kuja!”

In shock I snapped back, “How?!” The annoyance was blatantly obvious in my voice, and for that I was disappointed. His outburst was just…slightly unnerving.

He settled down, recovered his hat, and laughed, “My Granny makes a mean energy cider! If you ain’t better before I get it delivered, this thing’ll perk ya right up!” I tried to wrap my head around his excited chatter.

“An energy cider? Like a potion?” Potions, the most common items in Gaia, were the only things I could think of that would help me recover. As far as I knew, they didn’t exist here. I could’ve been wrong.

Braeburn chuckled, “I dunno about a potion, but it’ll get ya back on your feet in no time.”

The thought of finally being rid of this bed was amusing. I asked, “Would you mind delivering it? Furthermore, would she mind brewing it?”

“O’ course not! My Granny makes the best cider in all of Equestria. It’s what she does. Heck, she owns the biggest apple orchard with the freshest apples. Ships all over the kingdom!” His eyes were glowing with joy at the thought of being able to help me. Either it was being able to help me, or he simply adored his grandmother…

To be polite, I asked, “The best in the kingdom, you say? Care to tell me about it?”

The golden stallion plopped back in his chair and cheered, “O’ course I would, partner!” He settled in and began the tale of the apple orchard north of Appleloosa, beyond the Everfree Forest.

I listened intently as he told me extensive history of the Apple Family. Their ancestors settled north of the Everfree Forest, planting seeds they’d found within the forest. In the uncultivated land, they grew a massive orchard, which was eventually named Sweet Apple Acres. A small town grew around the orchard, attracted by the business of the Acres. That line of the Apple Family has lived in the town since its settlement, with Braeburn’s Granny Smith being the current owner of the farmstead.

“The next in line to own the place are my cousins Big Macintosh and Applejack. And boy howdy can they make some delicious ciders! Granny Smith’s will have ya leaping from roof to roof in no time!”

As he finished telling his tale, the sun began to set. We said our farewells, and he was gone. A few minutes later, the Black Mages returned, curious as to what transpired to keep Braeburn holed up for the entire day. I told them a few minute details of our discussion, but kept most of the important bits to myself. They had no business knowing our business.

Of course, now that I’ve written it out, Mr. 33 knows the whole story. I figure he’ll wait until I go to sleep before he transfers the information to his companion, which is fine by me.

So there it is. I’ve stayed here for a whole week, wishing nothing more than to regain my health. Now, Braeburn has given me hope for a beverage that will do just that. I can only hope his grandma’s cider is as potent as he leads me to believe. For now, I’ll just have to wait for it to arrive. This should be a fun endeavor, waiting for the clock to tick away until I may be able to leave this dull room.

Funny…my fate rests with the clock, just as Zidane’s friends’ did in my Desert Palace… The powers-that-be must have a sense of humor…

Day Twelve: Restored

It is a truly beautiful thing, to be back to health after so long in bed. I must find a way to repay Granny Smith for her amazing cider. I cannot lie; I didn’t believe it would truly restore me as Braeburn had claimed it would. Although I don’t quite feel like leaping from building to building, I am feeling exponentially better. I can walk, at any rate.

The cider arrived early this morning, shortly after sunrise. The moment I opened the bottle, my senses flooded with life. I’d never felt such a sensation before, not even from a Gaian potion. I wasn’t sure what the feeling was at the time, but even the Black Mages reacted to it. Though I fear they’ve had an adverse effect from contact with the beverage. Just as well as I’ve been up all day, they’ve been visibly disgusted and locked in this room.

Then again, they may just regret my good health, but I shan’t assume the negative. I’m simply thankful to be able to move around. In fact, the first thing I did upon consuming the cider was aid in the repair of the local train. It was fun, to say the least. I was able to put my mind to use and minimize the resources required to repair the machine. We finished the repairs several days ahead of schedule, and I was awarded a large stipend of ‘bits’ for my efforts.

Yes, bits. They seem to be the local currency. Although not as appealing in appearance as Gil, they seem to be just as valuable to the residents of Equestria. They are significantly heavier than Gil as well, making carrying large sums quite burdening.

Repairing the train wasn’t the high point of my day, however. I returned to the tavern after the train was up and running again. Several stallions were sitting in a small group, carrying on a heated discussion. I arrived in the midst of Braeburn’s exclamation.

The moment I arrived at the tavern, I felt a strange tension fill the air. I began to feel nervous about joining in the discussion, but my curiosity propelled me forward. If I were still on Gaia, I wouldn’t have given a second thought about my action. Something about this world was influencing my mind—my confidence…

At any rate, I was accepted with open arms…er…hooves. I arrived just in time to catch the tail end of a statement Braeburn directed toward a pony who I assumed to be the local banker. I’m not certain what the discussion was about, but it sounded important.

“…the shipment be late!” the sheriff seemed to be angry, the first time I had seen him so.

His arguing companion responded, “It can’t be helped, sheriff! We ain’t got a way to get it there safe!” He took a gulp from his bottle of cider before leaning back in his chair.

Braeburn scoffed, “We got at least a dozen railroad guards! You can’t tell me we ain’t got enough to ship some apples, Cobalt!” He crossed his arms angrily as he plopped into the opposite chair.

“It ain’t the amount of guards we got that matters. We can’t risk the train being ambushed again. We’re already behind our shipping schedule.” The stallion shook his head in disappointment.

“Can’t ya just send ‘em on foot?” the sheriff was persistent in his endeavors, whatever they may be.

The pony he had called Cobalt groaned, “Don’t none of ‘em wanna take that risk. Face it; we ain’t getting any shipments up north, not even to Ponyville.”

Ponyville. Several thoughts ran through my mind at the mention of the town. I needed to give my thanks to Granny Smith and the rest of the Apple Family, and this shipment seemed a good enough reason to go there.

The two ponies fell silent, so I chuckled, “What seems to be the problem?”

Another stallion standing against the far wall sighed, “Sweet Apple Acres needs a shipment of Appleloosan Golden Apples to brew some cider to send to Canterlot next week. Thing is, we can’t ship the apples on our train.” He adjusted the rim of his Stetson without so much as glancing up.

“Why is that?” I asked.

“We got some bandits set up camp in the woods on the other side of Ghastly Gorge. They’ve robbed the last couple of valuable shipments. Train’s always returned with a messed up engine. We can’t afford any more repairs, so we’re closing the tracks between here and Ponyville.” He explained everything plainly, and I immediately decided to take the initiative.

I sighed with an air of smug confidence, “You can’t send your train, but require the apples to reach Ponyville before too much time has passed. I may have a solution for you.”

Braeburn snapped his attention to me and gasped, “What d’ya got in mind, Kuja?”

“If you can put together a caravan, I can escort the shipment on foot.”

Cobalt scoffed, “What kinda idiot would do something like that?”

“I need to go to Sweet Apple Acres anyway. I see no reason why I shouldn’t help out my new home while I’m at it.” At the time, I hadn’t considered the possibility of my inability to use magic. My boasts were relying on my magic to protect the caravan.

The unnamed stallion chuckled, “You actually think you can do it alone? You got guts, fella. We ain’t got a problem fixing up a caravan if ya actually wanna try it.”

“Maybe we can convince some of the guards to go with you…” Cobalt placed a hoof to his chin in thought.

I waved a dismissive hand and scoffed, “There’s no need. I assure you I am more than capable of dispatching a few bandits and ensuring the safe arrival of the golden apples. Perhaps I can persuade the Black Mages to join me. Who knows, they might enjoy some time out of the desert.” I smiled slyly at the three disbelieving stallions, each one with apparent concern.

Cobalt laughed, “If that’s what ya want, I ain’t got a problem with it!” He hopped up from his chair and placed a hoof firmly on my shoulder. He extended his other hoof toward me, a gesture I could only compare to a handshake by pony standards.

I took his hoof in my hand, we shook, and before I knew it he was gone. The unnamed stallion simply nodded in my direction as he walked out of the tavern. Something felt off about the mysterious pony, but I decided to disregard my feelings on the basis of paranoia. Once they were both gone, Braeburn offered the seat beside him to me. I obliged.

The stallion shook his head and sighed, “You sure ya can handle it, partner? I mean, these are some big brutes, bruisin’ up our train at every chance.” He removed his hat and placed it on the arm of his chair, letting out an exasperated sigh.

I groaned, “You needn’t worry, Braeburn. The apples will arrive in Ponyville on time and intact. Believe me when I say I can handle a few bandits without trouble.” I had faith that I could handle the trip on my own, but others seemed not-so-certain.

He smiled and chuckled, “I believe ya, partner. But we can’t afford to lose these apples—or a life. Maybe you oughta get them Black Mages to go with ya, just in case.” He placed the hat firmly on his head and stood up slowly. “Whenever you think you’re ready to set out, head on over to the station...” I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was worried.

I wasn’t used to that. I’m not certain whether he was worried about the shipment or my health, but it was a very strange occurrence that one would worry for me. The last person to ever do so was Zidane, below that cursed tree…

“You needn’t worry, sheriff. ‘Don’t mistake power for confidence/You’ll never like how it ends/Take your stance and understand/Confidence is the greatest tool/Confidence is power /That’s my first rule.’” His expression immediately shifted to one of utter confusion.

He coughed, “Huh-what?”

I dropped my smug smile in exchange for one of disappointment. Perhaps he was smart, but he had no poetic flare. I groaned, “My confidence will ensure my success in this delivery. Just have faith in my ability to follow through.” I waved a hand goodbye and stood up from my seat, heading for the stairs up to my room.

As I had expected, I found the Black Mages still bedridden upon my return. They both looked weary, from some unknown illness or event. I didn’t think the cider’s scent could’ve harmed them quite as bad as they were. I allowed them the comfort of sleeping in the bed after their patience with my recovery. I moved a large armchair in front of the large window on the far side of the room and sat, watching the sun set on the horizon.

It wasn’t long before one of the mages began stirring. Mr. 33 woke up with worried haste, attempting to regain his senses fully. He noticed my silent roosting and asked, “Is something wrong, Kuja?”

I wasn’t certain what he meant. As far as I knew, they were the ones with the illness at this time. I chuckled, “Not at all, Mr. 33. Why do you ask?”

“You look upset…or tired.” He motioned toward his companion, who was still fast asleep.

I shook my head and said, “No, not quite. I’m more or less pontificating on the promise I made Braeburn.” The Black Mage approached me inquisitively.

He asked, “What’d you promise him?” He sat on the floor beside my chair, as if he had no concern with comfort.

“I have to make a delivery to Ponyville a few miles north. I’ll be passing through bandit-infested territory.” I looked down at the mage, who seemed to be lost in thought.

He stared out the window at the sunset. He sighed, “Are you sure you can handle it? I mean, you just got out of bed today…” I heard a strange tone in his voice. He was worried…about me.

I chuckled, “I’m certain I’m up for the task. It’s you two I’m concerned about.”

“What do you mean?”

“You two are joining me, aren’t you? After all, I believe it will be nice to get out of the desert for a while.”

“Really? You actually want us to come along?” He looked at me disbelievingly.

I sat upright in the chair and scoffed, “Of course. A little company on this trip would be most welcome.”

Mr. 111 began to stir in the bed. He groaned, “When do we leave?”

Mr. 33 gasped, “W-wait, how long will we be gone?”

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “No longer than a week, I’m sure.”

The other Black Mage threw the covers off and leaped from the bed. “Does it matter? Not like there’s much to do around here…” he yawned.

“Correct. A change of scenery will be nice, won’t it?” I smiled, turning my attention back out the window. The sun was half-swallowed by the earth at this point. The sky was a mix of beautiful colors. My inner poet began to stir under the vision.

The relaxing Black Mage chuckled, “I guess it can’t hurt. But will we be okay if we fight the bandits?”

His companion scoffed, “What do you think? We have magic. I’m sure we can take care of ourselves. Isn’t that right Kuja?” He turned to me, still lost in thought.

I sighed, “We should be fine. Between the three of us, what could possibly go wrong?”

With that, we all fell silent. We watched as the sun fell below the horizon, the colors of the sky shifting from prismatic to dark. It was a relaxing sight, honestly. The last sunset I ever truly watched was the one at Oeilvert back when I was younger, back on Terra…

I’m lying here in bed, trying to finish this entry so I can go to sleep. The Black Mages passed out over by the window, watching the sky change. We’re leaving tomorrow to start our trip, and we should be back before the week’s end. I hope that’s the case, anyway. I could be severely underestimating these bandits, but I’m not afraid.

I’m feeling a bit weary now, so I’ll put the journal away. I should try and write my entries more consistently, but nothing interesting ever happens here in Appleloosa…

Day Thirteen: Caravan's Departure

It has been a quite exciting few days, I must say. So much has happened since the day I recovered. Perhaps I should break my entries into pieces to make them less burdening to read in the future. I’ll begin with the morning I departed from Appleloosa.

I awoke well before sunrise to find Mr. 33 and Mr. 111 packing up some items into satchels, assumedly to bring on our trip. Clothes, blankets, and snacks were among some of the items the pre-emptive Black Mages were packing. I was thoroughly surprised by their initiative and excitement for this potentially dangerous expedition to the north.

Mr. 33 noticed me stirring in my bed. He packed in one last blanket to his bag and cheered, “There’s some breakfast being prepared downstairs to see us off! The caravan’s ready to leave whenever you are!” Like a machine, he immediately resumed packing.

I groaned, “These Equestrians are on top of their schedules, aren’t they? They’re much more efficient than the laziness of Gaians.” I stretched and yawned, feeling completely rejuvenated from my extensive nap.

Mr. 111 sighed, “Do you think we need any of Granny Smith’s cider?” He placed one hand over his would-be face and held the bottle toward me with the other.

I thought for a few moments how to answer the question. I nodded and scoffed, “Its restorative effects will be imperative if we’ll be facing hostile opposition.”

“Okay…” He sounded slightly disappointed, perhaps because of the cider’s disgusting scent. While it was tasty and had healing properties, it still smelled like decaying rotten apples.

Mr. 33 chuckled, “This is gonna be fun, Kuja! We’re gonna meet new ponies!”

“Yes, and we’ll also be walking for three days straight. We may stop to rest if absolutely necessary.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to get my blood pumping. I needed to be wide awake if I hoped to plan our route carefully. I had no intention of following the tracks the entire way, only when required.

After a few moments of silence, a rapid knocking rang out on the door. Without waiting for a response, the source of the noise threw the door open and rushed in. He slammed it shut behind him, as if he were being chased by something vicious. It was the mysterious stallion from the prior evening. His mane was in a mess, with his hat off-center on his head. He looked really shaken by something.

“Can I help you?” I asked bluntly, annoyance flooding my tone.

He took a few deep breaths and explained, “Look fella, them brutes are some tough punks. You sure ya wanna do this?” He looked as if he were about to have a heart attack.

“Of course I am. What seems to be the problem?” Something about the stallion screamed ‘suspicious’ to me, but I tried to swallow that superficial paranoia.

He shook his head and sighed, “I just think they’re a little bit tougher than ya can handle, that’s all.” He ran a hoof through his mane, attempting to style it.

I’m no fool. I can see when something obvious is in my face. His demeanor irked me to the point of snapping, “What are you planning on doing?”

He looked at me with a confused expression at first, then scoffed, “I’m goin with ya, fella. If some newcomer’s gonna risk his hide to solve our problems, he ain’t taking all the credit!”

I couldn’t even reply to his statement. Despite having just informed me of the dangers, he wanted to travel with us. That alone is idiotic enough. However, he was willing to risk the danger for some ignorant hometown pride. I had no words at the time to explain to him how foolish he was truly being. So instead I simply laughed.

Not picking up on his ignorance, Mr. 33 cheered, “It’ll be nice to have you with us Mr. Brawny!” Ah, a name was finally matched with the face. Suddenly, this stranger seemed even more suspicious.

I chuckled, “Yes, it will be a pleasure to have a local journey with us. I suppose you should begin your packing. We’ll be leaving just as soon as I’ve finished preparing my belongings.” I could tell he was an idiot, and knew then that his chances of survival were close to nonexistent. The likelihood of his death made me disgustingly happy at the time.

This stallion, Brawny, scoffed, “Y’all best not leave without me, y’hear?” He left the room just as quickly as he’d entered, slamming the door behind him.

Mr. 111 groaned, “I don’t trust him, Kuja.”

My jaw dropped at the Black Mage’s careful judgment. I nodded and sighed, “Nor do I, but I find it rude to refuse company on such a long trip. Besides, if he tries anything funny, we can simply ‘magic’ him out of our hair.” I raised a single hand into the air, imitating the motions used to cast my Flare spell.

I heard a light chuckle escape the consenting mage. His companion, however, let out a frightened gasp. He said, “You can’t be serious, Kuja! Mr. Brawny would never do anything to deserve that!”

“You are foolish to trust him, 33. Can’t you sense that curious aura around him? The Mist is different when he’s around.” I clenched my fist and dropped my arm swiftly, causing him to flinch. Mr. 111 nodded approvingly toward me.

I stretched my arm casually and headed toward the door. The mages returned to their packing while I proceeded downstairs to enjoy the breakfast Mr. 33 had spoken of earlier. The tavern was surprisingly empty, aside from the bartender and the chef. As I consumed the meal, the mages joined me and downed their own dishes. Without saying a word, we finished eating and left the tavern.

A large crowd of ponies had gathered by the train station, where a caravan of two bulls and a wagon was waiting for us. As we approached, the crowd went wild. At the time, I couldn’t understand exactly why we were honored so much before even attempting the journey. However, now that everything is said and done, their reactions were fairly appropriate.

Waiting by the wagon were Brawny and Braeburn, the latter of whom baring a wide grin of confidence. The former, unsurprisingly, had a look of worry and anger on his features. The closer we got, the deeper his frown fell. It was actually quite amusing.

The sheriff cheered, “Buncha luck to ya, partners! Try not to rough em up too bad!”

Brawny groaned, “Let’s get this dog-and-pony show on the road already.”

I had to use all of my willpower to keep from bursting into arrogant laughter at the stallion’s idiotic remark. I could already see how this trip would play out on his part, and I was enjoying the sight. Until he was disposed of due to his pride, I would need to watch my back in case of shameful ambush. However, that would only be a mild discomfort, like a fly buzzing by your ear.

I extended a hand toward the idiot and chuckled, “Impatience may cause even the wisest of creatures to face their ultimate downfall. Keep this in my while we’re on the road, Brawny.” He accepted my handshake with flooding remorse. Every ounce of irritation he experienced only seemed to make me feel better.

“I’ll try to remember it. Now, we ready to set out?” He released my hand and turned toward the train tracks. He looked off in the distance, where we would be travelling, and let out a nervous sigh.

Mr. 111 groaned, “We need to depart soon, Kuja. We need to get to Ponyville as quick as possible, right?”

“Correct.” I said bluntly. “Very well then, let us leave.”

Braeburn took off his hat and placed it firmly on his chest. He adopted a serious expression and hailed, “Y’all take care, Mr. Kuja. Try to come back in one piece, would ya?” The rest of the crowd imitated the gesture—a sign of respect for the risk we were taking.

I still couldn’t understand why such a touching ‘ceremony’ was being performed for the departure of a simple caravan. Even Brawny seemed to be taken by surprise. I simply shrugged my shoulders and scoffed, “I assure you you’ve nothing to worry about. I…We shall return in as perfect health as we are leaving.”

The Black Mages nodded in agreement. With that, the crowd started to disperse from the station. We said our farewells, I took the reins of the cattle in hand, and we were off into the desert bound northward. As we distanced ourselves from Appleloosa, a strange sense of foreboding started to form in the back of my mind. I cast it off as my usual paranoia, but I see now that that was a bad idea.

We travelled along the track for hours, until the sun began to set. Nothing of interest happened while we were on the trail, unless you count a sandstorm that knocked Mr. 33 to the ground and left Brawny cursing his luck. Once the sun had finally gone down, I decided it best to set up camp and sleep.

I stayed awake all night, watching for hostile creatures…and monitoring our stallion companion. Something about seeing him unconscious started an angry flame in my heart.

I should have killed him then and there, but I didn’t...

Day Fourteen: A Crushed Conflict

I sat by the campfire all night long, watching the stallion for any sign of suspicious activity. My companions, on the other hand, rested quite comfortably in their bags. I’m not sure what compelled me to watch Brawny, but I slowly developed a sense of dread as the night passed. At one point I even believed there to be figures moving in the distance—hostile figures. Eventually the sun rose over the horizon, and we packed up camp and continued on our way down the tracks.

The day passed in moderate silence. The further we continued down the path, the tenser Brawny seemed to get. Mr. 33 continued on in blissful ignorance of the stallion’s suspicious nature. Mr. 111 frequently sent me silent messages, ensuring I was still keeping my guard up. He was well aware of what I felt now that we’d been in Brawny’s presence for over a day. I was glad to have at least one other companion on my side in this scenario.

It was funny, to tell the truth. He attempted to not act suspicious, and yet that very attempt is what gave him away to me. He tried so hard to look innocent that, when it became revealed that he was a traitor, 33 was the only member of our group to actually be surprised. I can still hear his quavering voice as I approached those bandits.

Just as the sun was beginning its slow decline into the horizon of the west, we approached the stretch of train tracks connecting the Appleloosa and Ponyville sides of Ghastly Gorge. Ah, it was a beautiful sight. To look over the emptiness of the gorge and see the orange sunlight beaming blissfully into its reaches was comforting.

I stopped to take in the sight for a few moments while the others continued on. It was truly unusual. I couldn’t remember ever once stopping to enjoy the Gaian scenery. This world felt different in so many ways, it almost brought out my inner poet. In this situation, however, I hadn’t enough time to so much as write a haiku. A plea for help rang out from the far end of the tracks.

This is where the fun truly begins. Mr. 33 and 111 were being tied up in thick cords by a group of animals that looked similar to dogs. Brawny stood in front of the chaotic group, facing me, a small metal object held firmly in the cleft of one hoof. He had an excited glint in his eyes. Mr. 33 was squirming violently against his bonds, while 111 just stood like a log and waited. He knew this would be a simple endeavor, even if I did not agree.

I started to approach the group of bandits, my hands placed resolutely by my side. I chuckled, continuously getting louder as I progressed, “Are you attempting to steal the shipment of apples, dear Brawny? I must say I’m disappointed in your work ethic, especially for a small town pony of your caliber. After all, this is an amateur’s game.” I slowly stepped toward their end of the bridge, monitoring Mr. 111 for signs of hostility. He remained calm and collected, as if he were barely bothered by the bonds.

Brawny scoffed, “What are you going on about, freak? Looks to me like it worked, didn’t it?” He thrust the hoof holding the metal object away from his body. He held it with a tight grip, pointing a long tube toward me. He had a grin as if he were victorious already.

I tittered tauntingly, “A truly brutal bandit would’ve slaughtered every last citizen of the town and taken all of their resources without a second thought! You’re just a petty thief that can’t even handle a small caravan without a group of foolish lackeys. What even are those creatures you’ve manipulated?” I maintained a steady pace, ever advancing toward the hostages and traitor.

The stallion groaned, “I ain’t a bandit, fella! I ain’t stealing nothing! These here Diamond Dogs trade my safe passage over the gorge for information on valuable shipments passing through.” He waved the metal object toward the beasts before pointing in my direction once more.

One of the monsters grumbled, “Can we just kill ‘em now?” He yanked on 111’s bonds, drawing him closer to the cliff of the gorge. 111 didn’t make any type of resisting movement.

“If you truly believe that you’ve won—that you can return to Appleloosa without us—you are a fool. You see, perhaps you aren’t aware of what we’re capable of.” I bowed my head and raised my hands, beginning a madman’s laugh. “Mr. 111, would you do the honors?!”

“Gladly!” 111 shouted back at me.

He snapped his fingers, and in the instant the ropes were consumed in fire. The bonds immediately incinerated, the Diamond Dog captor lighting up with them. 111 darted toward Brawny with lightning-fast speed, but he was intercepted by another one of the canine beasts. He swiftly punched the ground, and the guardian dog was tossed into the air by a spike of rock shooting from the ground.

In his confusion, Brawny dropped the metal object he’d been holding and started a mad dash away from the bridge. Too bad for him, really. 111 waved a circle in the air with an angry fist, and the remainder of the bandits was swallowed by heavy gusts of wind. The vortexes slowly inched toward the gorge, threatening to drop each beast over the edge, preferably to their deaths.

Brawny squealed, “Don’t do this, fella! What’ll the townsfolk think if I don’t come back?!” He struggled against the razor wind, but found he was powerless.

I simply chuckled, “I can explain it quite simply. You were a traitor, and your bandits are dead. You shan’t bother Appleloosa again.” I nodded at 111, and he nodded back.

“You messed with the wrong Black Mage, idiot.” The mage closed his hand quickly, and the gusts of wind darted over the gorge. The wind disappeared, sending the creatures into its deep reaches, just as the sun fell below the horizon. All of them aside from Brawny.

The moon’s bright light shined into it, showing me their fates. Considering the mysterious force in this world, I didn’t believe they were dead. They fell directly into the water at the bottom of the gorge, a would-be fatal fall if we’d been on Gaia. This world was different. I didn’t believe I had killed them. I simply removed their threat for an indeterminable amount of time.

I continued my victorious stride over toward the only remaining captive of the wind, who was released once my hand clasped his throat. He tried to pry my hands apart with his hooves, but my grip was much more powerful than his pitiful muscles could bear. His eyes shined with sheen of fear, and my heart fluttered at the sight.

For a few moments, I considered crushing his neck and ending his life personally. It only took one glance toward Mr. 33 to see that that wasn’t as option. As much as I hated it at the time, his presence kept me from making a terrible mistake. I wasn’t—I’m not—a murderer anymore. Not in this world.

At any rate, the stallion choked out, “Please…don’t…kill…me! I’m...sorry!” He kicked his legs forward, desperately struggling to breath.

I hesitated for a moment before finally releasing my grip. He fell to the ground with a thud, taking a painfully deep breath. I sighed, “As much as I truly wish to end your life, I’m afraid I cannot bring myself to do so. You are a lucky man, Brawny.” I ran a hand through my hair and looked up to the bright white of the Equestrian moon. I continued, “If this were another time, in another life, I would have murdered you before we even left the tavern.”

The terrified stallion fell to the ground at my feet and groaned, “Th-thank you, fella! I’m terribly sorry for all this ruckus! I…” He fell silent, uncertain of how to proceed in his apology.

I scoffed, kicking dirt his direction, “Get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind, you imbecile! If we ever cross paths again, I will not hesitate to end your meaningless life!” In the instant, all of my repressed anger over the last few weeks in this world suddenly exploded in the back of my mind. It took all I had not to Trance at that moment. I felt the rage swelling inside my body.

I was…frightened. I was scaring myself. I…didn’t want to Trance. I didn’t want to get angry. I didn’t want to hurt this world like I did to my home…

Needless to say, Brawny rushed out of my sight before I could end the internal struggle between anger and peace. When I finally calmed down, Mr. 33 and 111 were standing in front of me, guiding our cattle across the bridge.

The former of the mages stopped beside me and cheered, “You made the right choice Kuja! I’m proud of ya!” He continued leading the caravan down the tracks as I tried to hurry my recovery.

Mr. 111 waited by my side. He groaned, “This isn’t good, Kuja. Can you feel that?”

I sighed, “The Mist gathering?”

“Yes. Before, I wasn’t sure if it was Mist. It felt similar, but it wasn’t as stale.”

“And now, there’s no doubt. Only Mist can allow for Trance. Only Mist can allow for puppets like us to live.”

“If Mist is gathering in this world, could we be the reason?”

“I’d rather die again.”

“Same here. This world doesn’t deserve the evils that come with Mist.”

“Let’s not concern ourselves with speculation, 111. If it is Mist, then we’ll know soon enough.”

I rose to my feet and started staggering after 33. We continued down the tracks until we reached the edge of a dark forest. Based on the map I had seen before departing from Appleloosa, we were at the Everfree Forest. Ponyville proper waited just beyond the trees, and so we set up camp for the evening. We would conclude the first half of our journey the next day, and be back in Appleloosa before another three-day cycle.

We’d made good time, honestly. Only two days in and we were less than a mile from our destination.

Certainly, the forest had several things to say about that...

Day Fifteen: Arrival at Last

The night passed in peace. We slept comfortably in our bags, just outside the borders of the Everfree Forest, with cool wind blowing on us. The late night moonlight showed me the trees with a special viewpoint, in a way I’d never imagined nature before. It became obvious that I was changing. My appreciation for the beauty of the world was something I’d never truly had before my time here.

When the sun finally rose above the horizon and woke us with its warm rays, we packed up camp and headed into the forest. It’s true, we could’ve continued along the tracks and travelled around the forest, but that would’ve directly taken longer, and I felt like finishing our quest as soon as mortally possible. Of course, looking back, things would’ve been a hell of a lot simpler had we just stayed on the steel…

It took us literal seconds before the sour fortune hit. Before we were even out of sight of the tree line, Mr. 33 triggered a pitfall trap that ensnared both of my companions. When I say ‘ensnared’, I truly mean it swallowed them into a deep pit of indefinite depth. After mere moments, even their cries for help were drowned out. It truly saddened me to even consider the possibility of their deaths, so I had no choice but to stop the caravan and pursue them.

Of course, it would have been quite foolish to simply jump into the pit after them. I scoured the immediate area for any type of cavern or trail that lead downward, but I found nothing. I had almost gotten to the point of giving up hope and carrying on, until a burst of flames poured out from behind a large boulder in the distance. I couldn’t fathom any other cause of such an intense pyre aside from the mages, and so I hurried to the blockade.

My assistance was very obviously not required, as the boulder combusted into dust before I could even come anywhere near. Just as I had expected, both of my companions stumbled from the concealed cavern, rips and tears scattered about their garments. It took everything in my power to not let out a relieved sigh. The last thing I needed was to come off as a sensitive soul in this dark forest.

It was strange. My eyes focused on our surroundings as the mages approached me. Though the world outside had been peaceful and full of beauty, this forest seemed as if it had been made of pure evil. Everything within was of a dark nature, with colors significantly more morbid than those of Appleloosa and Ghastly Gorge. I could feel an unnerving aura about the area, sending shivers down my spine.

Mr. 111 chuckled, “I think we got more than we bargained for, Kuja. First we get partnered with a bandit, and then there’re traps everywhere.” He ran an arm across his face, clearing it of dust.

Mr. 33 groaned, “We set off dozens of tripwires down there!” He slumped over with his arms dangling toward his feet. “I think the traps are out for a reason…”

“Same here. Whoever set them up is obviously trying to hide something.” The more mature mage cracked his knuckles in a challenging manner. “Maybe we oughta find out what it is?”

“No.” I snapped instinctively. “They aren’t hiding anything. These traps are new. I believe they are for protection. I imagine this forest contains many gruesome beasts.” I raised a hand dominantly and whispered, “Stay silent, and watch your step.”

We quickly returned to the caravan’s post and took up the reigns, Mr. 33 doing most of the work. We continued on down the trail away from the tree line, wanting nothing more than to get out of the forsaken environment. We carried on for a few minutes in relative peace. I began to hear strange noises in the distance, which in turn sent my heart racing. Something about this place set me on edge and multiplied any rational fear to be infinitely worse.

I darted my eyes all about, watching for traps and triggers. I shifted my focus on the distant noises temporarily, wondering just what the cause was.

And then it hit me.

More accurately, the source tackled me with a head-butt and sent me flying almost ten yards into a solid oak tree. My muscles locked up, removing my ability to move. On top of that, my voice failed to work. I could tell from my viewpoint that I was collapsed in an unnatural heap at the base of the tree. I was able to watch the beast toss Mr. 33 aside like a ragdoll, while Mr. 111 took up my fallen sword and clashed with the creature.

The beast had the body of a lion, while a set of intimidating bat wings stretched wide from its back. A scorpion’s tail swung wildly from side to side as its owner continued to press forward against its opponent. The beast was a prime example of a manticore, fiercer than any I’d seen on Gaia. I could sense that it wasn’t acting of its own rational thought, and rather fueled by a muddled mind. The beast wasn’t itself.

They battled for several moments in an intense display of strength and tact.

The manticore’s paw and my blade held one another in place temporarily, until the monster swung its free paw at Mr. 111. In a quick reaction, the mage did a somersault to the side and met the offending paw with the blade of my sword. Before the metal could slice through, the beast swatted it aside with its tail, then proceeding to bare its claws. Mr. 111 gripped the hilt of the sword tightly, placing his free hand on its blade.

As the manticore pounced at the resisting mage, my sword shot out a beam of solid darkness, piercing into the offender’s arm. Upon landing, the beast let out a loud wail and charged toward Mr. 111. The mage raised his weapon forward and charged the opposite direction. The two forces collided head on.

The blade let out an intense golden light for several seconds, blinding me and cutting me off from the full action. I heard the manticore roar, and my companion let out a loud groan. Once the light faded and my sight returned, I noticed Mr. 111 on the ground, my sword resting barely an inch out of my reach. At some point in the blind fight, the beast must have disarmed him. In doing so, it almost disarmed me…

It reared back and readied its fangs to dig into the mage’s flesh. It let out another loud, victorious roar, and then began a downward arc at its victim. I closed my eyes instantly, unable to tolerate watching the poor puppet suffer a second death.

I waited for a few moments, until the beast let out a loud, frightened whimper. The patter of paws sped past me, as the trotting of hooves approached.

“Be gone you wretched beast! I do not fear you, not in the least!” An exotic voice called out into the trees, following the direction of the manticore’s whimpers.

I opened my eyes once a gentle hoof touched my shoulder. Above me stood a black-and-white pony with golden bangles around its neck and hooves. It wore a brown cloak and held an assortment of flowers in one hoof. I tried to speak, but found myself still mute from the impact on the tree. I managed to catch a glimpse of Mr. 111 regaining his footing, as well as Mr. 33 taking up the reigns once more.

The pony tittered, “You should take more caution in these trees, stranger. The recent days have brought to us more danger.” I recognized the voice as feminine. The pony took her free hoof and jabbed me in the chest seemingly as hard as she could. The pain sent a jolt of electricity through my body, and I was mobile almost instantly.

I groaned, “You could have warned me!” I gripped my chest tightly as the pain slowly subsided. I then realized my voice returned, which made my anger give way to happiness.

Before the pony could respond, Mr. 111 scoffed, “Thanks for saving us, but what the hell was that thing?” He stretched the arm he’d used to swing the sword, its sleeve almost ripped completely off.

She took a few steps away from our caravan before sighing, “That was a manticore of the highest breed—its behavior has been suspicious recently, indeed. Things are changing in this forest of Everfree; greater beasts are being born, as you can see.” She shook her head in disappointment before turning away from us.

“Thank you for saving us. We need to be on our way before that beast returns. I suggest you do the same, miss.” I scanned the immediate area for even more danger, but nothing immediate appeared to me.

“My name is Zecora, and I agree. You must leave this forest of Everfree…” With that, she darted off into the darkness of the forest.

I started on my way and snapped, “Let’s go. I grow sick of this forest and the aura it comes with. Let’s be on our way, and never again approach these cursed trees.” I stomped off, the mages close behind.

Mr. 33 rolled his neck and moaned, “Sounds good to me.”

“I won’t argue with that choice, Kuja.” Mr. 111 tried to keep pace with me as we continued on. He carried my blade ready in his hand for another attack.

As we continued on, he continued to send me silent messages with his expressions. I could tell he was disturbed, and I understood his perturbation without a word. I knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know how to say. I wanted to do the same. Neither of us wanted to say it, because it would then suddenly become real to us.

That monster may have belonged to Equestria before, but it was almost definitely enhanced by an unnatural force. It had to have been Mist.

Less than ten minutes after our meeting with Zecora, we reached the edge of the forest and caught a glimpse of the setting sun. Not one-hundred yards in front of us stood a large red farmhouse, and on the opposite side of it sat hundreds of apple trees. Upon seeing the apples shine in the sunset, I let out a relieved sigh.

Mr. 33 cheered, “Yay, we’re finally here! I can’t wait to meet the Apple family!” He picked up his pace without hesitation, wanting to reach the farm as soon as possible.

Mr. 111 chuckled, “The tracks would have taken us right through the orchard, Kuja.” He waved a hoof toward the barely visible train tracks in the distance. “I guess what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”

“How very right you are, 111. I never knew you had skill with a blade. I pegged Black Mages as physically useless puppets.” I smiled slyly at the weary wizard.

He scoffed, “Don’t assume things. It makes an ass out of you and me, as the saying goes. Now, what do you say we catch up to that naïve bastard and finish our job?” He nodded toward Mr. 33, blissfully advancing toward the building.

“I’ve never heard such a beautiful idea in all of my second life…” My fatigue from the last few days struck me instantly. It took every ounce of willpower not to collapse in an unconscious ball in that very spot.

Supporting one another as we stumbled on in exhaustion, Mr. 111 and I caught up to our companion as he knocked on the farmhouse door for a third time. When the door finally opened, an orange mare greeted us with shocked eyes. She removed her Stetson hat and offered a greeting.

Before she could begin her hello, I collapsed right in front of her hooves, barely conscious. The last thing I remember before waking up was feeling 111’s weight on top of me.