If ANY of you do see a mistake, then be sure to let me know preferably via PM. I don't expect you guys to be nice, but at the same time I would hope you guys are professional and will not add unnecessarily scathing comments. Just give me the problem, I'll be happy to listen and alter the writing according to ERRORS. That means if you have something that you personally would like added to the story, then by all means mention it but don't get mad if I don't apply it.
http://www.brohoof.c...implementation/ <- Link to old Brohoof Chronicles Topic Post for me to refer to. Please do NOT necrobump it.
Here's what I need:
Character Name: (OC name)
Nickname(s): (any honorific titles or playful names e.t.c.)
Race: (Griffon, Unicorn, Pegasus or Earth pony. You can suggest another race, I may approve or disapprove of it depending on its power)
Cutie Mark:
Special Skill: (needs to relate to your cutie Mark)
Description of OC: (picture or written or both)
Bio: (your OC's life up to present day)
Favourite Weapon: (think steampunk or old school if you can, e.g. massive warhammer or a primitive machine-gun
It is present day in Equestria, meaning that the mane six exist. So try to keep your weapons within the range of what's already been said. I'm not going to put everypony's characters as members of the Harmonosphere as there's quite a lot as there is.
List of Characters Added
Spoiler
Fleetfire Bittermane (Greebster)
Victus (Volvonski)
Quill Critique (Dtgenshiken7)
Tech Sketch (FaffleMaster)
Flaming Night (Flamingdeath13)
Nova Vokunah (Gray__Wolf)
Ocean Ice (Trollrilla)
Zuska Kartáče (Distortion_)
Dawnbreeze (Goldenlynx54)
Captain Silvershield (IOWrover)
Thomas Redintegro (Tom_EN)
Fireblitz (Mattbot12)
Nightingale (Stardragon1000)
Callaway Wilson (Golfmann14)
Sound Wave (Gyzyh)
Trade Place (RoyalInBlue)
Blazing Fire (Crono23)
Arrow Lasher (DefectiveTurret)
Flea Jumper (Dazhito23)
Diamond Digger (Stickycookies95)
Miles (Kibamoon)
Stormy Skies (Castle13oblivion)
Silver Haze (Beta77)
Silver Thorn (TheDeathScorpion)
Snatcher (Hxfthxft)
High Orbit (Ymlong)
Ta'buhl Yu Syk (Hallfrost00)
Smiley Jack (ZiomalQ)
Verdana (Mickynine)
Calistovolan (Calistovolan)
Erin Star (Steampunk_Wizard
Virelen (Virelen)
Tinker Tankering (Jamiejibba115)
Divine Light (Divine_Demon)
Northern Crescent and Starlight (Commander Nanook)
Blueprint (Guillaumeman)
Grim (Caventh)
Speedrunner (SpeedrunnerG55)
Star Spinner (Noobsqoou)
Maroon Xii (Drauken)
Pendulum Swing (Psi_Meldazzar)
Spark (Npawesome)
Artemis (Iced_Flames)
Fredric Shlemberghimer (Sebby)
Fleetfire Bittermane (Greebster)
Victus (Volvonski)
Quill Critique (Dtgenshiken7)
Tech Sketch (FaffleMaster)
Flaming Night (Flamingdeath13)
Nova Vokunah (Gray__Wolf)
Ocean Ice (Trollrilla)
Zuska Kartáče (Distortion_)
Dawnbreeze (Goldenlynx54)
Captain Silvershield (IOWrover)
Thomas Redintegro (Tom_EN)
Fireblitz (Mattbot12)
Nightingale (Stardragon1000)
Callaway Wilson (Golfmann14)
Sound Wave (Gyzyh)
Trade Place (RoyalInBlue)
Blazing Fire (Crono23)
Arrow Lasher (DefectiveTurret)
Flea Jumper (Dazhito23)
Diamond Digger (Stickycookies95)
Miles (Kibamoon)
Stormy Skies (Castle13oblivion)
Silver Haze (Beta77)
Silver Thorn (TheDeathScorpion)
Snatcher (Hxfthxft)
High Orbit (Ymlong)
Ta'buhl Yu Syk (Hallfrost00)
Smiley Jack (ZiomalQ)
Verdana (Mickynine)
Calistovolan (Calistovolan)
Erin Star (Steampunk_Wizard
Virelen (Virelen)
Tinker Tankering (Jamiejibba115)
Divine Light (Divine_Demon)
Northern Crescent and Starlight (Commander Nanook)
Blueprint (Guillaumeman)
Grim (Caventh)
Speedrunner (SpeedrunnerG55)
Star Spinner (Noobsqoou)
Maroon Xii (Drauken)
Pendulum Swing (Psi_Meldazzar)
Spark (Npawesome)
Artemis (Iced_Flames)
Fredric Shlemberghimer (Sebby)
Progress: 44 OCs out of target 3 (40)
List of Volunteers
Spoiler
- Golfmann: Pre-reader
-Fafflemaster: Illustrator
Runningwolf: Pre-reader
Tom_EN: Illustrator
Noobsqoou: Pre-reader
- Golfmann: Pre-reader
-Fafflemaster: Illustrator
Runningwolf: Pre-reader
Tom_EN: Illustrator
Noobsqoou: Pre-reader
So without further ado, here's Harmonosphere
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A special thanks to Tom__EN and Fafflemaster for the beautiful Cover Illustration!

Spoiler
In the far reaching realm of Equestria, there were places where the light of day could not reach. From times of old there were the sanctuaries, forgotten now by the above world, and untouched by warmth or luminescence. Some things were meant to be forgotten; the old kingdom was one of these things. Knowledge of such secrets would threaten the lives of many. In the icy depths of a wintery mountain the story began; where the winds ceased altogether. As I like to phrase it, a Unicorn with blood-red mane and piercing eyes thought as he walked down a darkened corridor, where the breath of Equestria fades, so does life.
The colt had a corpse-like frame; he was clearly emaciated as his bones were visible, even through the layers of hair and thick clothing. On his back was a small rucksack. His name was Grief and his journey was at an end, or so he thought at least. Grief looked back at the cave entrance; he could see the blizzard still howled relentlessly like a snarling, ravenous white wolf unleashed into the wild, the chilly bite of the wind still gnawed at his soul. Grimacing at the memory of the biting air, he turned and proceeded down the gloomy corridor, the ghostly wails of the storm fading into silence behind him. He was glad for the sparse warmth that emanated from the torch held in his magical grip.
Finally, the corridor ended and Grief trotted quietly into a misty cavern, vast in size, but quieter than anywhere he had ever been before. He suddenly became aware of how alone he was, however he liked the feeling of utter isolation. A circular carving was set into the floor of the shadowy cavern. In the middle of the carving, a thick stone dais, inlaid with runes that Grief could not decipher, rose up above a normal pony’s height. The tense pony circled the dais warily, searching for any traps or imperfections. Considering the dais safe, he stepped closer guardedly. He dropped his rucksack and the smouldering torch to the ground beside him.
Reaching inside the bag, he sorted through the various essentials that he had hastily packed, his hoof brushed against what he searched for. Grief pulled out a tattered old scroll, a ghastly smile cutting across his face. This was his favourite part. He unravelled the scroll, laid it out on the cold surface of the dais and began to read the faded glyphs. His voice was low and gravelly, but firm. ‘Animus mid Coltheart, erodus mida reckr.’ He slipped a small knife out from his sleeve and placed the blade across his hoof, slicing it gently. Blood welled up like mournful tears. Wincing painfully and hissing through his clenched teeth, Grief pressed his bloodied hoof into the blank parchment at the bottom of the script.
A magic glow illuminated the cavern as he healed the stinging wound. The pain subsided from his hoof, leaving an empty feeling of numbness in its place. Sighing in relief that the worst was over, Grief picked up the glowing torch and cast it onto the dry parchment of the scroll. It erupted into night-black flames. In a matter of seconds, smoke and ashes were all that remained; yet an intense purple magic flowed down from the dwindling fire and into the altar itself. Grief stepped back slightly, tripping on the grooves cut into the floor. He steadied himself and watched in awe as the glow of magic combined with the dark flames.
The energy streamed down the sides of the dais and flowed into the runes, they began to explode into dust and shards of rock one by one. It seems that the runes were magical bonds of imprisonment, Grief thought with a triumphant smile as the last rune disappeared in a cloud of dust. As more darkness and magic pulsed in, glowing fissures appeared on the surface of the dais. Grief knew what was coming next; he threw himself behind a precariously jutting stone pillar as the dais shattered into numerous sharp fragments, coughing as a cloud of dust billowed out.
Grief breathed out heavily and sat down for a moment; his task was finally complete. He pulled himself back to his hooves reluctantly; the journey to the mountain had taken its toll. Energy sapped and glad to have finally done what he had come here to do, his face twisted into a repulsive leer. Master would be proud, very proud indeed. Taking a step forward, he pulled himself closer to the centre of the cavern, his joints complaining with every move. Grief wiped sweat from his head and let his heart slow down. He looked back to where the altar had been and watched the choking dust settle, observing at last his purpose for being in this place.
It was encompassed in piles of dusty rubble. Finally awake after years of imprisonment, Coltheart the Soul of War had returned. Hovering almost half a foot above the ground, Coltheart remained unmoving and mysterious. His eyes were shut as though he were still asleep. Grief began to realize something about his master; he exhaled in awe. Not only did his master not resemble a pony or any other form of equestrian, but it seemed also that he only needed to stand on two hooves. Fascinating, mused Grief.
He cleared his throat as loudly as he dared and prepared to make his presence known. The noise must have startled his master. Eyes of the blackest night opened and burned like sinister spheres of coal. A deep intake of breath hissed through the cavern and Grief could have sworn that the ground moved. After a brief delay, Grief came to his senses and bowed to his knees in respect. ‘Master, you have called and so I have come. What is your bidding?’
He grunted in exertion and struggled back to his feet, maintaining what he called a safe distance.
Coltheart turned and observed Grief with eyes deeper than the abyss of the universe. The experience left Grief feeling rather unnerved. Coltheart stretched out the forehooves that he didn’t stand upon; Grief winced as he heard the ligaments crack. Sighing contentedly, Coltheart reaffixed his eyes on Grief. His voice, rough and dry with underuse, was deep and cold. ‘One and a half millennia have I been encased in that stone prison. I put the time to good use as I fell between dreams, I planned my revenge.’
Coltheart struck a near-standing pillar with a forehoof as rage mottled his shadowy face; he uttered one word, ‘Equestrians!’
‘Master-,’ Grief began, but Colt interrupted him with a gesture of his hoof. ‘Do not call me that,’ he snarled, ‘I am Coltheart, but I am also remembered by other names. You will obey me.’
‘Yes mast- I mean, yes Lord Coltheart,’ was Grief’s hasty response. He bowed again, realizing how stupid he must look and hating the logic of it all the more. Colt raised his eyebrows, ‘get up, you look ridiculous.’
Meekly, Grief got back to his feet and ducked his head as his face burned in embarrassment, his eyes fixed to the spot of ground above which his master floated.
After a prolonged moment of silence, Coltheart spoke.
‘The reign of Equestrians is coming to an end, lingering shall their suffering be,’ he said, his lips creased smugly. ‘And you, Grief my servant, you will have a major part to play in their fall. Of course you will be discounted among the slaves and sufferers if you can prove your worth to me.’
At last in my life I will have some significance, thought Grief with an acknowledging nod of his head. ‘What must I do mast- erm, my lord?’
Coltheart magically summoned a green and blue sphere into the cavern.
For a brief moment, Grief saw something change on Coltheart’s face. Sadness or anger maybe, Grief was unsure. Coltheart gestured to the rotating sphere; his eyes were flinty as he observed it. ‘This is where I was born. It is another world to your own, equine.’
Grief looked at the small rotating globe before him, it resembled Equestria in whole, but something was different and he didn’t know what.
‘I fell through a hole in reality caused by my overuse of time magic; it took me to another world altogether, this one.
I am trapped in an alternate dimension wherein the dominant species are the ones who do the manual labour in my home dimension. Ironic don’t you think?’
Grief struggled to grasp the concept of what Coltheart was saying. His mind was, suffice to say, blown. ‘Can you not get back there, my Lord?’ he asked cautiously.
‘No. I can make a portal back to there, but I am too big to get through. However you are small enough to fit.’
‘You want me to go through this portal…’
‘Yes.’
‘…and bring back something?’
‘Yes,’ Colt answered, his teeth bared in a dark grin.
‘Using your portal, my lord?’
‘You must find others like me; the individuals will be presented to you as you are taken to different places and times in my home-world. They are the only others in my own dimension to wield magic, that is why they have been chosen.’
Discussion over, Coltheart poured a beam of dark purple magic into the ground, emptying all of his power into the spell.
The portal materialized in front of Grief, a writhing pool of shadows beckoning for him to enter. Before him stood a doorway to another dimension, he shook with excitement at the mere idea. ‘Go now my servant, do my bidding and you shall be justly rewarded,’ Coltheart said, a smile flickering on his face. The cavern became darker and the shadows writhed around Coltheart as he poured more magic into the portal. Grief took two steps and was immediately encompassed by a vast span of stars that blazed past. He was falling though the empty chasms of space, an astral plane full of endless night in all directions.
And suddenly all was plunged into shadow.
***
Dawn broke across Equestria. Celestia’s sun touched the corners of the sky as Luna’s moon fled across the horizon. Cloudless skies welcomed the waking ponies of the realm. They rose from their beds and continued life in their hometowns. A small town called Ponyville was particularly busy, the annual Running of the Leaves festival was imminent and preparations were being made. Banners were spread from building to building depicting the crunchy brown leaves of autumn. The town hall was swathed with leafy decorations and the market around it was selling festive treats of all kinds. Away from the ruckus, near the ominous border of the Everfree forest, a small group stood huddled together.
Gentle winds tousled the fierce red hair of Fleetfire Bittermane and the sun warmed her feathery wings and blue back pleasantly. She was about to leave for a journey through the Everfree Forest. She looked over at the others who had come to see her off. There was Pinkie Pie, the eccentric party pony who seemed to be making one huge fuss about nothing. She was bawling her eyes out, great fat tears rolling down her cheeks and around her snuzzle. Fluttershy, nature’s best friend, scraped her hooves across the ground in a bid to distract herself from crying too.
Rarity was putting on an impressive display, dramatically proclaiming to anypony who would listen that the current predicament was the worst possible thing. Nopony, in fact, was listening. Rainbow Dash was laid across an oak tree branch, she was trying to appear indifferent. But every now and then she sighed deeply as though her thoughts troubled her. In grim silence, apple loving Applejack stood at a distance and kicked a tree to keep her mind off the subject. Only one pony had managed to concentrate fully, trying to suffocate her worry under a casual disposition: Twilight the Librarian.
She stepped forward, dry leaves crunching underhoof and stopped right in front of Fleetfire. After a moment’s hesitation, Twilight embraced Fleet gently and held her by the shoulders for a second, eye to eye. When she spoke, her voice struggled to stay as firm as her emotional posture, ‘the Everfree Forest is a hostile place, try not to forget that when you’re on your little quest. Be safe, you.’ She poked Fleet with the end of her hoof and hugged her again.
Rarity released a theatrical sigh as she trotted past a slowly retreating Twilight and threw her hooves around Fleetfire, catching her by surprise and almost knocking her off balance. Fleetfire chuckled lightly, holding Rarity at foreleg length before pulling her back into a hug. ‘You crazy mare,’ Rarity said in a scolding tone, ‘I don’t know what’s inspired you to go on such a crazy expedition as this. I suppose I never will find out, ah well, just promise me you’ll be safe.’ Typical Rarity, always putting others first, thought Fleetfire with a smile.
‘Uh, I promise,’ she replied calmly in a soft but firm tone, ‘you do know that I have no problem defending myself don’t you?’
‘Yes. Well there are things bigger than you out there, so be wary all the same, won’t you dear?’ replied Rarity, hastily smoothing down her dress.
‘Sure. I’ll keep that in mind.’
Next to speak was Fluttershy; she looked anxiously at the dark trees that bordered the Everfree Forest, ‘It’s a very dangerous place, Fleet. If you’re going in there alone then you will need to protect- eeeh!’
She almost jumped out of her skin when Fleetfire swung a crossbow off her back.
Fleet winced, she wished she had been more subtle about it; Fluttershy was a fragile soul sometimes.
‘Ah, well then, not to worry I see,’ Fluttershy said as her heart slowed down to its normal rhythm. Fleetfire abruptly pulled Fluttershy into her arms, causing her to squeak in fright again. Then the shyness melted and she sank into the warm enfold, tears leaking out of the corners of her tightly shut eyes. Fluttershy shuffled away and Applejack left her spot by the oak tree to stand in front of Fleetfire. A sniffling Pinkie followed close behind.
Applejack removed her hat from her mane, she opened her mouth to speak but the words failed to form on her lips. Finally, grasping Fleetfire and giving her a friendly squeeze, she said ‘You be safe now, ya hear me sugar-cube?’ Fleetfire acknowledged her by nodding slowly in response and sustaining her warm smile. Apple patted her on the arm and stepped aside for Pinkie Pie to say her goodbye. Fleetfire felt her heart pound faster as her emotions began to fight and her will was struggling to hold them back. Pinkie however had stopped crying, all evidence of sadness or distress had disappeared. ‘Well I guess you’re going now, huh? Be sure to send postcards, because postcards are fun!’
Fleetfire laughed and clapped her hoof around Pinkie’s shoulder companionably. ‘You may be disappointed there. I don’t think there are any mail-boxes in Everfree,’ she replied casually, ‘but I won’t be gone for long, three weeks max.’
Pinkie beamed in response and bounced away happily; she cantered into a tree, stumbled away and continued her bouncing gait as though nothing had happened. Fleetfire also beamed, she couldn’t help it; it almost seemed like Pinkie had that effect on all ponies. As Fleetfire turned, Rainbow Dash pirouetted off her branch and landed on the path, spraying gravel out from under her hooves. That Pegasus has got some smooth moves, thought Fleetfire.
‘So, you’re going, eh? Well, good for you,’ said Rainbow as she struggled to act cool and in control. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for or whatever…’
Rainbow trailed off, her eyes were watery and she turned away to wipe them. Fleetfire rested her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. ‘Trust me, you’ll see me back here alive and well in no time. I already promised,’ she said, then pulled Dash into a sincere embrace. Tears rolled down unbidden. Her feelings were a rush, the happiness for having such kind friends and neighbours, the sorrow for having to leave them, a miniscule dose of anger for having let the past catch up with her…
She wiped her eyes and took a step back, regarding all of her friends as they gathered in front of her and gazed upon her in return. She cleared her throat and looked down at her hooves for a brief moment as she worked out what to say. When she next glanced up, her expression was hard and determined. ‘I must go now, but I’ll be back soon, I promise. For now, goodbye my friends, it’s hard to come across good ponies like all of you.’
At long last, Fleetfire turned to the old trees of the treacherous Everfree Forest. She started to walk, her heart beat faster in anticipation of what was to come.
More ready now than ever before, Fleet ruffled her blue wings and took flight. She hoisted her bags into a comfortable position on her back, flapped her wings harder and soared through the trees. Foliage and tree trunks blurred by. With Ponyville behind her, the first leg of Fleetfire Bittermane’s journey had finally begun.
In the far reaching realm of Equestria, there were places where the light of day could not reach. From times of old there were the sanctuaries, forgotten now by the above world, and untouched by warmth or luminescence. Some things were meant to be forgotten; the old kingdom was one of these things. Knowledge of such secrets would threaten the lives of many. In the icy depths of a wintery mountain the story began; where the winds ceased altogether. As I like to phrase it, a Unicorn with blood-red mane and piercing eyes thought as he walked down a darkened corridor, where the breath of Equestria fades, so does life.
The colt had a corpse-like frame; he was clearly emaciated as his bones were visible, even through the layers of hair and thick clothing. On his back was a small rucksack. His name was Grief and his journey was at an end, or so he thought at least. Grief looked back at the cave entrance; he could see the blizzard still howled relentlessly like a snarling, ravenous white wolf unleashed into the wild, the chilly bite of the wind still gnawed at his soul. Grimacing at the memory of the biting air, he turned and proceeded down the gloomy corridor, the ghostly wails of the storm fading into silence behind him. He was glad for the sparse warmth that emanated from the torch held in his magical grip.
Finally, the corridor ended and Grief trotted quietly into a misty cavern, vast in size, but quieter than anywhere he had ever been before. He suddenly became aware of how alone he was, however he liked the feeling of utter isolation. A circular carving was set into the floor of the shadowy cavern. In the middle of the carving, a thick stone dais, inlaid with runes that Grief could not decipher, rose up above a normal pony’s height. The tense pony circled the dais warily, searching for any traps or imperfections. Considering the dais safe, he stepped closer guardedly. He dropped his rucksack and the smouldering torch to the ground beside him.
Reaching inside the bag, he sorted through the various essentials that he had hastily packed, his hoof brushed against what he searched for. Grief pulled out a tattered old scroll, a ghastly smile cutting across his face. This was his favourite part. He unravelled the scroll, laid it out on the cold surface of the dais and began to read the faded glyphs. His voice was low and gravelly, but firm. ‘Animus mid Coltheart, erodus mida reckr.’ He slipped a small knife out from his sleeve and placed the blade across his hoof, slicing it gently. Blood welled up like mournful tears. Wincing painfully and hissing through his clenched teeth, Grief pressed his bloodied hoof into the blank parchment at the bottom of the script.
A magic glow illuminated the cavern as he healed the stinging wound. The pain subsided from his hoof, leaving an empty feeling of numbness in its place. Sighing in relief that the worst was over, Grief picked up the glowing torch and cast it onto the dry parchment of the scroll. It erupted into night-black flames. In a matter of seconds, smoke and ashes were all that remained; yet an intense purple magic flowed down from the dwindling fire and into the altar itself. Grief stepped back slightly, tripping on the grooves cut into the floor. He steadied himself and watched in awe as the glow of magic combined with the dark flames.
The energy streamed down the sides of the dais and flowed into the runes, they began to explode into dust and shards of rock one by one. It seems that the runes were magical bonds of imprisonment, Grief thought with a triumphant smile as the last rune disappeared in a cloud of dust. As more darkness and magic pulsed in, glowing fissures appeared on the surface of the dais. Grief knew what was coming next; he threw himself behind a precariously jutting stone pillar as the dais shattered into numerous sharp fragments, coughing as a cloud of dust billowed out.
Grief breathed out heavily and sat down for a moment; his task was finally complete. He pulled himself back to his hooves reluctantly; the journey to the mountain had taken its toll. Energy sapped and glad to have finally done what he had come here to do, his face twisted into a repulsive leer. Master would be proud, very proud indeed. Taking a step forward, he pulled himself closer to the centre of the cavern, his joints complaining with every move. Grief wiped sweat from his head and let his heart slow down. He looked back to where the altar had been and watched the choking dust settle, observing at last his purpose for being in this place.
It was encompassed in piles of dusty rubble. Finally awake after years of imprisonment, Coltheart the Soul of War had returned. Hovering almost half a foot above the ground, Coltheart remained unmoving and mysterious. His eyes were shut as though he were still asleep. Grief began to realize something about his master; he exhaled in awe. Not only did his master not resemble a pony or any other form of equestrian, but it seemed also that he only needed to stand on two hooves. Fascinating, mused Grief.
He cleared his throat as loudly as he dared and prepared to make his presence known. The noise must have startled his master. Eyes of the blackest night opened and burned like sinister spheres of coal. A deep intake of breath hissed through the cavern and Grief could have sworn that the ground moved. After a brief delay, Grief came to his senses and bowed to his knees in respect. ‘Master, you have called and so I have come. What is your bidding?’
He grunted in exertion and struggled back to his feet, maintaining what he called a safe distance.
Coltheart turned and observed Grief with eyes deeper than the abyss of the universe. The experience left Grief feeling rather unnerved. Coltheart stretched out the forehooves that he didn’t stand upon; Grief winced as he heard the ligaments crack. Sighing contentedly, Coltheart reaffixed his eyes on Grief. His voice, rough and dry with underuse, was deep and cold. ‘One and a half millennia have I been encased in that stone prison. I put the time to good use as I fell between dreams, I planned my revenge.’
Coltheart struck a near-standing pillar with a forehoof as rage mottled his shadowy face; he uttered one word, ‘Equestrians!’
‘Master-,’ Grief began, but Colt interrupted him with a gesture of his hoof. ‘Do not call me that,’ he snarled, ‘I am Coltheart, but I am also remembered by other names. You will obey me.’
‘Yes mast- I mean, yes Lord Coltheart,’ was Grief’s hasty response. He bowed again, realizing how stupid he must look and hating the logic of it all the more. Colt raised his eyebrows, ‘get up, you look ridiculous.’
Meekly, Grief got back to his feet and ducked his head as his face burned in embarrassment, his eyes fixed to the spot of ground above which his master floated.
After a prolonged moment of silence, Coltheart spoke.
‘The reign of Equestrians is coming to an end, lingering shall their suffering be,’ he said, his lips creased smugly. ‘And you, Grief my servant, you will have a major part to play in their fall. Of course you will be discounted among the slaves and sufferers if you can prove your worth to me.’
At last in my life I will have some significance, thought Grief with an acknowledging nod of his head. ‘What must I do mast- erm, my lord?’
Coltheart magically summoned a green and blue sphere into the cavern.
For a brief moment, Grief saw something change on Coltheart’s face. Sadness or anger maybe, Grief was unsure. Coltheart gestured to the rotating sphere; his eyes were flinty as he observed it. ‘This is where I was born. It is another world to your own, equine.’
Grief looked at the small rotating globe before him, it resembled Equestria in whole, but something was different and he didn’t know what.
‘I fell through a hole in reality caused by my overuse of time magic; it took me to another world altogether, this one.
I am trapped in an alternate dimension wherein the dominant species are the ones who do the manual labour in my home dimension. Ironic don’t you think?’
Grief struggled to grasp the concept of what Coltheart was saying. His mind was, suffice to say, blown. ‘Can you not get back there, my Lord?’ he asked cautiously.
‘No. I can make a portal back to there, but I am too big to get through. However you are small enough to fit.’
‘You want me to go through this portal…’
‘Yes.’
‘…and bring back something?’
‘Yes,’ Colt answered, his teeth bared in a dark grin.
‘Using your portal, my lord?’
‘You must find others like me; the individuals will be presented to you as you are taken to different places and times in my home-world. They are the only others in my own dimension to wield magic, that is why they have been chosen.’
Discussion over, Coltheart poured a beam of dark purple magic into the ground, emptying all of his power into the spell.
The portal materialized in front of Grief, a writhing pool of shadows beckoning for him to enter. Before him stood a doorway to another dimension, he shook with excitement at the mere idea. ‘Go now my servant, do my bidding and you shall be justly rewarded,’ Coltheart said, a smile flickering on his face. The cavern became darker and the shadows writhed around Coltheart as he poured more magic into the portal. Grief took two steps and was immediately encompassed by a vast span of stars that blazed past. He was falling though the empty chasms of space, an astral plane full of endless night in all directions.
And suddenly all was plunged into shadow.
***
Dawn broke across Equestria. Celestia’s sun touched the corners of the sky as Luna’s moon fled across the horizon. Cloudless skies welcomed the waking ponies of the realm. They rose from their beds and continued life in their hometowns. A small town called Ponyville was particularly busy, the annual Running of the Leaves festival was imminent and preparations were being made. Banners were spread from building to building depicting the crunchy brown leaves of autumn. The town hall was swathed with leafy decorations and the market around it was selling festive treats of all kinds. Away from the ruckus, near the ominous border of the Everfree forest, a small group stood huddled together.
Gentle winds tousled the fierce red hair of Fleetfire Bittermane and the sun warmed her feathery wings and blue back pleasantly. She was about to leave for a journey through the Everfree Forest. She looked over at the others who had come to see her off. There was Pinkie Pie, the eccentric party pony who seemed to be making one huge fuss about nothing. She was bawling her eyes out, great fat tears rolling down her cheeks and around her snuzzle. Fluttershy, nature’s best friend, scraped her hooves across the ground in a bid to distract herself from crying too.
Rarity was putting on an impressive display, dramatically proclaiming to anypony who would listen that the current predicament was the worst possible thing. Nopony, in fact, was listening. Rainbow Dash was laid across an oak tree branch, she was trying to appear indifferent. But every now and then she sighed deeply as though her thoughts troubled her. In grim silence, apple loving Applejack stood at a distance and kicked a tree to keep her mind off the subject. Only one pony had managed to concentrate fully, trying to suffocate her worry under a casual disposition: Twilight the Librarian.
She stepped forward, dry leaves crunching underhoof and stopped right in front of Fleetfire. After a moment’s hesitation, Twilight embraced Fleet gently and held her by the shoulders for a second, eye to eye. When she spoke, her voice struggled to stay as firm as her emotional posture, ‘the Everfree Forest is a hostile place, try not to forget that when you’re on your little quest. Be safe, you.’ She poked Fleet with the end of her hoof and hugged her again.
Rarity released a theatrical sigh as she trotted past a slowly retreating Twilight and threw her hooves around Fleetfire, catching her by surprise and almost knocking her off balance. Fleetfire chuckled lightly, holding Rarity at foreleg length before pulling her back into a hug. ‘You crazy mare,’ Rarity said in a scolding tone, ‘I don’t know what’s inspired you to go on such a crazy expedition as this. I suppose I never will find out, ah well, just promise me you’ll be safe.’ Typical Rarity, always putting others first, thought Fleetfire with a smile.
‘Uh, I promise,’ she replied calmly in a soft but firm tone, ‘you do know that I have no problem defending myself don’t you?’
‘Yes. Well there are things bigger than you out there, so be wary all the same, won’t you dear?’ replied Rarity, hastily smoothing down her dress.
‘Sure. I’ll keep that in mind.’
Next to speak was Fluttershy; she looked anxiously at the dark trees that bordered the Everfree Forest, ‘It’s a very dangerous place, Fleet. If you’re going in there alone then you will need to protect- eeeh!’
She almost jumped out of her skin when Fleetfire swung a crossbow off her back.
Fleet winced, she wished she had been more subtle about it; Fluttershy was a fragile soul sometimes.
‘Ah, well then, not to worry I see,’ Fluttershy said as her heart slowed down to its normal rhythm. Fleetfire abruptly pulled Fluttershy into her arms, causing her to squeak in fright again. Then the shyness melted and she sank into the warm enfold, tears leaking out of the corners of her tightly shut eyes. Fluttershy shuffled away and Applejack left her spot by the oak tree to stand in front of Fleetfire. A sniffling Pinkie followed close behind.
Applejack removed her hat from her mane, she opened her mouth to speak but the words failed to form on her lips. Finally, grasping Fleetfire and giving her a friendly squeeze, she said ‘You be safe now, ya hear me sugar-cube?’ Fleetfire acknowledged her by nodding slowly in response and sustaining her warm smile. Apple patted her on the arm and stepped aside for Pinkie Pie to say her goodbye. Fleetfire felt her heart pound faster as her emotions began to fight and her will was struggling to hold them back. Pinkie however had stopped crying, all evidence of sadness or distress had disappeared. ‘Well I guess you’re going now, huh? Be sure to send postcards, because postcards are fun!’
Fleetfire laughed and clapped her hoof around Pinkie’s shoulder companionably. ‘You may be disappointed there. I don’t think there are any mail-boxes in Everfree,’ she replied casually, ‘but I won’t be gone for long, three weeks max.’
Pinkie beamed in response and bounced away happily; she cantered into a tree, stumbled away and continued her bouncing gait as though nothing had happened. Fleetfire also beamed, she couldn’t help it; it almost seemed like Pinkie had that effect on all ponies. As Fleetfire turned, Rainbow Dash pirouetted off her branch and landed on the path, spraying gravel out from under her hooves. That Pegasus has got some smooth moves, thought Fleetfire.
‘So, you’re going, eh? Well, good for you,’ said Rainbow as she struggled to act cool and in control. ‘I hope you find what you’re looking for or whatever…’
Rainbow trailed off, her eyes were watery and she turned away to wipe them. Fleetfire rested her hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder. ‘Trust me, you’ll see me back here alive and well in no time. I already promised,’ she said, then pulled Dash into a sincere embrace. Tears rolled down unbidden. Her feelings were a rush, the happiness for having such kind friends and neighbours, the sorrow for having to leave them, a miniscule dose of anger for having let the past catch up with her…
She wiped her eyes and took a step back, regarding all of her friends as they gathered in front of her and gazed upon her in return. She cleared her throat and looked down at her hooves for a brief moment as she worked out what to say. When she next glanced up, her expression was hard and determined. ‘I must go now, but I’ll be back soon, I promise. For now, goodbye my friends, it’s hard to come across good ponies like all of you.’
At long last, Fleetfire turned to the old trees of the treacherous Everfree Forest. She started to walk, her heart beat faster in anticipation of what was to come.
More ready now than ever before, Fleet ruffled her blue wings and took flight. She hoisted her bags into a comfortable position on her back, flapped her wings harder and soared through the trees. Foliage and tree trunks blurred by. With Ponyville behind her, the first leg of Fleetfire Bittermane’s journey had finally begun.

Spoiler
Fleetfire’s eyes slowly opened and squinted in the morning light, what was that noise? It was the fourth day of her expedition and so far her journey had been dull and uneventful. Her head buzzed like it was filled with dozens of angry bees; she placed her hoof on her temple and massaged it. Without needing to look in a mirror, Fleetfire was sure her hair was a complete mess as usual, she hoof-combed it into submission but knew it would not be tamed so easily. She climbed out of the hammock she’d pitched the previous night and stood on the tree branch astride from it. The act of having stood up so fast made her head fill with dizziness and her eyes cloud over, she sat down to balance herself. Boom.
The tree throbbed slightly. Fleet looked down at the forest floor, still half asleep and unsure of what had happened. Shrugging, she untied her hammock and packed it into her bag. Boom. The branches of the trees shook, brown leaves escaping to the ground. Fleetfire struggled to stay balanced on the narrow branch, what on earth was that? Something stirred in the east, something big. Looking through a gap in the branches, Fleetfire froze in awe and her eyes widened. She observed in growing awe the distant creature. It climbed over the distant mountain range, translucent blue fur reflected in the sunlight like some precious gem.
A giant Ursa Major slowly traversed the terrain, getting ever closer. Well, she thought to herself and shrugged almost uncaringly, slow for an Ursa Major. The vast beast looked extremely wary, almost like it feared a hidden enemy. ‘What in all of Equestria would an Ursa Major be scared of?’ She didn’t fancy asking. Fleet flew down from the tree and landed stealthily on the leafy forest floor. Boom. With growing urgency, she moved fast through the densely overgrown trees, hopping over moss-covered craggy boulders and ducking under rotten fallen branches, as the sound of the Ursa Major became closer with every second.
She flapped her wings to gain more speed. BOOM. Falling to her hind legs, Fleetfire realized she hadn’t tripped but the ground was violently shaking with every step that the beast took. As she pulled herself to her hooves, a vast shadow fell over her, as she did the air suddenly became very thick with dust. BOOM. The sound of many trees being splintered met her ears and she looked up anxiously. Fleetfire turned away as a rather unpleasant memory burned itself into her mind; the Ursa Major was definitely male. She hurriedly scrambled over an upturned pile of earth and slipped down the other side as tremors wracked the ground.
Somewhere to her left, a patch of forest disintegrated into mere sawdust; a glistening blue paw the size of a house descended. Fleet threw herself clear as wooden splinters sliced through the air. As she stood, Fleetfire had to jump out of the way again as a herd of spooked Elk galloped by, after a brief moment they were followed by a pack of howling wolves that looked just as terrified. This is chaos, Fleetfire thought frantically as she scrambled away from a falling redwood. The tremors didn’t stop, not only that but the forest surrounding her had been immersed fully in shadow as the Ursa Major towered over it.
Fleet skidded to a slippery halt as her racing mind found a penny and dropped it into the metaphorical well. Realization dawned and her legs pedalled wildly again; the Ursa Major was on a collision course for Ponyville. A flying branch slapped Fleet, sending her crashing back into a mashed up bed of flowers. She got her breath back and felt her aching ribs. Satisfied that none had been broken, she galloped as fast as her hooves could take her. One giant furry hind paw came down to earth and jolted all the bones in her body. Before the paw could move, she jumped and wrapped her forelegs tightly around it.
Slowly with the help of her wildly flapping wings, Fleetfire began to climb up the leg of the Ursa Major. Twice she almost fell, but eventually through sheer endurance she made it to the top. ‘How I wish I had magic powers that let me turn into an ape,’ she murmured, remembering stories of the jungle she had read as a child. Fleetfire cleared her mind as the memories brought out other reminders that darkened her mood. Walking across the back of the titanic bear, Fleetfire unlatched the crossbow from her back; she smiled fondly and loaded a sharp metal bolt into it.
Fleet clicked back the mechanism and rested her hoof against the trigger lever on the bottom. The bow had been given as a present to her from an old friend. Fleet had named it Sunburst the Crossbow and frankly she doubted any crossbow would suit her more than this one did. Levelling the sight at the back of the Ursa’s neck, Fleet fired the bow without even attempting to focus her aim, considering the sheer girth of the beast made it difficult to miss. The bolt buried itself deep inside the grotesque neck of the Ursa. He did not seem to have been hindered by such an insignificant sliver of metal, but if Fleet was disappointed she did not show it.
Fleetfire took to the skies and watched the scene unfold beneath her, a satisfied smile playing across her face. The Ursa Major’s stride broke slightly, but he stayed determined and kept moving at a blinding pace. Soaring closer to his face, Fleet waved into his eye which managed to encompass her entire body in size; it narrowed when he caught sight of her, but suddenly became quite unfocussed. With each faltering step, the Ursa began to slow down until he shambled slowly to a halt. Shaking his mountain sized cranium, he emitted an ear-splitting roar and stumbled into a small river. As it turned out, the river was not small at all; Fleetfire’s sense of perspective had gone out the window.
She flew down next to the lowly rumbling Ursa Major, he shifted slightly, but all he did was roll over and grunt in his sleep. She tapped the bear with her hoof but it ceased to move, the sleeping drug from the crossbow bolt had done the job beautifully. It had come from a tranceflower she had picked up two days ago, growing in the husk of a dead tree, one of the most powerful natural sedatives in the world. She looked out over the river, at the long trail of destruction the Ursa Major had wrought and chuckled. For a moment the laughter persisted as she tried to come to terms with what had just happened, then in a spate of giggles she subsided to the floor.
Looking in her bag, Fleetfire withdrew a box of dried apple slices, courtesy of the Apple Family. Her mind was trying to cope with what had happened, did I really just take down an Ursa Major? Invading dark clouds touched the horizon, Fleetfire looked balefully at them. Chewing absently on the fruit, she took a closer investigation of the damage that had been caused to the landscape. Not a single blade of grass had escaped the madness. She wondered what to do about the Ursa Major, the drug would keep it asleep for a whole week, but after that, things could get dicey. She sank back with a dazed sigh, what a morning it had been.
***
As the warm day sank into the horizon, the frosty realm of night awoke. Light drained from the sky like water from a broken bucket. Fleetfire Bittermane trotted silently through the twilit forest as the night creatures hunted, hooted and howled. Disembodied screeches echoed down from the leaf-heavy canopies. Insects buzzed and chittered, obscured in the dense undergrowth. Fleet was sure she had heard a low growl from somewhere in the dark, She ignored the noise and moved faster, glancing warily from left to right. I should set up shelter for the night, I don’t want to end up a meal for Timberwolves, she thought edgily, just a bit further.
Above her head, the wind moaned through the branches of the trees. As she climbed higher through the mist-gripped valley, the scenery began to change. Plant life dwindled to nothing but twisted brambles and grey weeds, the trees were leafless and ashen in texture, it seemed almost like life had been bled from the place. Not a single sound here, she noted as she stepped over a dead tree lying across her path. The absence of noise was vexing; it hit Fleetfire like a tidal wave, causing her to feel slightly unnerved. ‘So empty. So devoid of warmth,’ she said, her heart felt like it was working overtime.
Notably, the lack of noise should have been good news to her, had she not felt like she was being watched by someone or something. Turning to glance behind her, Fleet saw a slight movement out of the corner of her eye; she spun to catch the stalker off guard. Darkness, oppressing and mysterious, pressed in from all around Fleetfire, her eyes stayed fixed firmly upon the ground in front of her. Nothing there, she reassured herself, just the mind up to its old tricks. She resumed her brisk trot. From where she was the moon cast a bleach-like pallor to every surface, almost like the place had turned to stone.
A grave of moonlit statues, her mind whispered. Fleetfire shivered at the thought and forced herself to look at the trail ahead, still certain that her hoofsteps were not just echoing through the valley. Crack. Fleet spun around, heart hammering away in her chest like an up-tempo drumbeat. In the foggy shadows something moved. ‘Hello. Is anypony there?’
A figure stepped out from between the shadows of two spindly birch trees. It was a blue Pegasus with a wheat-brown mane. His wings were open as though he wished to take off. None of these facts unnerved her, if anything, what caused her the most discomfort was his smiling mouth and piercing eyes.
The colt’s smile didn’t waver, not even remotely. In actual fact he was perfectly still. ‘Who are you?’ Fleetfire demanded, reaching slowly for the crossbow on her back.
The smiling Pegasus didn’t move an inch in the shadowy glade, his smile persisted much to Fleetfire’s irritation. ‘Listen, I’ve had really stressful day and I would like to settle down for the night,’ Fleetfire told him, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. The crooked smile and the eyes bored into her mind, she shivered involuntarily.
‘I don’t plan to do so unless you can tell me what you want or just go away.’
The pony didn’t even blink. He must be mad, Fleetfire conceded.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked, aware of how fast her heart was beating. The question seemed to elicit a small response from the colt. The eyes slowly refocused until they burned into Fleetfire’s own, the smile grew wider. Not removing his eyes from Fleet, the smiling Pegasus turned and revealed his flank. Staring back at her was a yellow smiling face. ‘My name,’ the Pegasus said in a low and rasping tone, chuckling softly between each word, ‘is Smiley Jack.’
Ah, thought Fleetfire in mild distress, she remembered that name from somewhere and not in a good way. ‘What do you want? I have nothing you could possibly want.’
The smile returned, broader than ever. Smiley Jack threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh but there is something I want,’ he replied with a deranged grin, ‘and you have pints of it.’ Fleetfire’s mind went from being blindly confused to uncomfortably aware of the colt’s intentions. Before she could speak, Smiley pulled an old rust-stained revolver out of seemingly nowhere. He levelled it at her and fired. But Fleetfire fired her crossbow a mere millisecond before he did.
The crossbow bolt slammed into Smiley and took him off his hooves and into a birch, pinning him in place. The revolver had fallen onto the cold forest floor. A small haze of smoke drifted from the barrel. Fleetfire smiled triumphantly, then winced in pain and looked down with rising trepidation. Blood gushed from a wound in her left wing; luckily the bullet had only grazed her. She bandaged herself with her scarf to stop the bleeding, gasping in discomfort as her shoulder began to throb. Jack snarled at Fleet, he was struggling to get his foreleg free from the bolt, but every time he moved he just caused himself even more pain.
Stalking up to him with teeth gritted in rage, Fleetfire slammed her head into his snout and he howled in both rage and agony. A dark feeling settled over her heart, this was the first time in her life she had ever deliberately caused somepony pain, and for some reason it did not affect her too deeply. She grimaced as pain reverberated through her own body; she struggled to ignore it as she pulled the bolt from Smiley’s right foreleg. He screamed abuse at her, ‘YOU think you can buck with me? You should see what has happened to others who BUCK WITH ME!’ The mad colt lay breathlessly against the birch and began to giggle.
‘I remember the last pony I murdered. She was eating a sandwich. I just waltzed right up behind her and said, “I could just murder a sandwich right now.”’
A pained cackle escaped his mouth. Fleetfire spared him her look of derisive loathing and knocked him out cold instead with the back of Sunburst. As she turned to go, the pounding agony in the left side of her body rose and she teetered unsteadily. When Fleetfire’s vision cleared, she was breathing raggedly and clutching her bandaged wing. She looked at the scarf, was it redder than when she’d put it on?
Looking behind her to where Smiley Jack lay insensate, Fleet knew she couldn’t afford to hang about any longer. She cantered through the forest shakily. In truth, what she needed now was to rest, but being so close to Smiley Jack was a risk she was unwilling to take. Stumbling through the foliage and tripping over the rutted earth, Fleetfire moved as fast as she dared through the grey trees. After five minutes of nearly jarring herself half to death, Fleet sat down to catch her breath. And that’s when she heard it, quiet at first but definitely getting louder, a cackling laugh resonating through the forest.
Climbing wearily back to her hooves, she galloped as fast as she dared through the dense thickets and unpredictable flora. Glancing over her shoulder, Fleetfire caught a glimpse of Smiley soaring through the trees above her, leaping from branch to branch and chuckling madly all the way. At least I have his gun, she recollected with a look of forced satisfaction. Without warning, her vision dimmed and her legs weakened. Fleetfire crashed awkwardly to the floor and groaned in pain, her bandages were soaked through and almost all of her energy was depleted.
She pulled herself up onto her forehooves and prepared her crossbow, ready for when Smiley showed up. She clamped her mouth down on the knot in the bandage and pulled it tight. With great difficulty Fleet held in a scream as more pain blossomed through her body. Fleet wheezed as she sat up, she watched in growing trepidation as Smiley Jack emerged from the canopy and landed at her feet. His wings folded shut and his face cracked into another one of his exaggerated smiles and a razor flashed in the light of the dawn sky. Fleetfire aimed her crossbow and fired but he dodged the bolt and chuckled teasingly.
Before she could reload, he darted in and pressed the cold blade of the razor up against her throat. He leered evilly within an inch of her face and his eyes gleamed triumphantly. ‘Go on dear, scream. I used to get pleasure from hearing ponies laugh, but… jokes get old I guess. Screaming, however, doesn’t.’
Fleetfire didn’t scream. She was almost certain that attempting to do so would be hopeless, not only that but she was determined not to appear weak before Smiley. She glowered at him instead.
‘I don’t mean to cliché your last moments,’ Smiley whispered in Fleet’s ear; his alcohol tinged breath made her stomach churn. ‘But I have to say it. Got any last words, my dear?’
Fleetfire remained silent, choosing instead to shut her eyes tight and not think about what was sure to come. ‘Well it was interesting meeting you in my neck of the woods. Aha! Neck… You’ll soon have a rather messed up one,’ Smiley pointed out joyfully with the razor-sharp end of his serrated knife, ‘Goodbye stranger.’
He reacquainted the blade with the hair over her neck, Fleetfire tried not to swallow though the urge was massive as saliva rose in the back of her throat. But the razor didn’t move across her neck, rather it clattered to the floor next to her head making her ear twitch at the sound. Cautiously, Fleetfire opened her eyes, her sight was slightly blurred and the light of the morning sky flared, causing her to squint. Smiley was tottering to her left, a smile still frozen on his face, his eyebrows met in confusion. His eyes slowly glazed over and he crashed to the ground beside her, unconscious and moaning softly.
Where Smiley had stood, a figure stood over Fleet, tall and imperious. ‘Who- who are you?’ she asked as her vision clouded over. The individual was joined by others. ‘Is she ok?’ a voice asked urgently. After a deliberative pause, the mysterious tall figure replied, ‘no, but she will be.’
Fleetfire’s head grew heavy and it hit the leafy ground, her mind fogged with darkness and within seconds she was detached from reality and falling through a world of dreams, and of nightmares.
Fleetfire’s eyes slowly opened and squinted in the morning light, what was that noise? It was the fourth day of her expedition and so far her journey had been dull and uneventful. Her head buzzed like it was filled with dozens of angry bees; she placed her hoof on her temple and massaged it. Without needing to look in a mirror, Fleetfire was sure her hair was a complete mess as usual, she hoof-combed it into submission but knew it would not be tamed so easily. She climbed out of the hammock she’d pitched the previous night and stood on the tree branch astride from it. The act of having stood up so fast made her head fill with dizziness and her eyes cloud over, she sat down to balance herself. Boom.
The tree throbbed slightly. Fleet looked down at the forest floor, still half asleep and unsure of what had happened. Shrugging, she untied her hammock and packed it into her bag. Boom. The branches of the trees shook, brown leaves escaping to the ground. Fleetfire struggled to stay balanced on the narrow branch, what on earth was that? Something stirred in the east, something big. Looking through a gap in the branches, Fleetfire froze in awe and her eyes widened. She observed in growing awe the distant creature. It climbed over the distant mountain range, translucent blue fur reflected in the sunlight like some precious gem.
A giant Ursa Major slowly traversed the terrain, getting ever closer. Well, she thought to herself and shrugged almost uncaringly, slow for an Ursa Major. The vast beast looked extremely wary, almost like it feared a hidden enemy. ‘What in all of Equestria would an Ursa Major be scared of?’ She didn’t fancy asking. Fleet flew down from the tree and landed stealthily on the leafy forest floor. Boom. With growing urgency, she moved fast through the densely overgrown trees, hopping over moss-covered craggy boulders and ducking under rotten fallen branches, as the sound of the Ursa Major became closer with every second.
She flapped her wings to gain more speed. BOOM. Falling to her hind legs, Fleetfire realized she hadn’t tripped but the ground was violently shaking with every step that the beast took. As she pulled herself to her hooves, a vast shadow fell over her, as she did the air suddenly became very thick with dust. BOOM. The sound of many trees being splintered met her ears and she looked up anxiously. Fleetfire turned away as a rather unpleasant memory burned itself into her mind; the Ursa Major was definitely male. She hurriedly scrambled over an upturned pile of earth and slipped down the other side as tremors wracked the ground.
Somewhere to her left, a patch of forest disintegrated into mere sawdust; a glistening blue paw the size of a house descended. Fleet threw herself clear as wooden splinters sliced through the air. As she stood, Fleetfire had to jump out of the way again as a herd of spooked Elk galloped by, after a brief moment they were followed by a pack of howling wolves that looked just as terrified. This is chaos, Fleetfire thought frantically as she scrambled away from a falling redwood. The tremors didn’t stop, not only that but the forest surrounding her had been immersed fully in shadow as the Ursa Major towered over it.
Fleet skidded to a slippery halt as her racing mind found a penny and dropped it into the metaphorical well. Realization dawned and her legs pedalled wildly again; the Ursa Major was on a collision course for Ponyville. A flying branch slapped Fleet, sending her crashing back into a mashed up bed of flowers. She got her breath back and felt her aching ribs. Satisfied that none had been broken, she galloped as fast as her hooves could take her. One giant furry hind paw came down to earth and jolted all the bones in her body. Before the paw could move, she jumped and wrapped her forelegs tightly around it.
Slowly with the help of her wildly flapping wings, Fleetfire began to climb up the leg of the Ursa Major. Twice she almost fell, but eventually through sheer endurance she made it to the top. ‘How I wish I had magic powers that let me turn into an ape,’ she murmured, remembering stories of the jungle she had read as a child. Fleetfire cleared her mind as the memories brought out other reminders that darkened her mood. Walking across the back of the titanic bear, Fleetfire unlatched the crossbow from her back; she smiled fondly and loaded a sharp metal bolt into it.
Fleet clicked back the mechanism and rested her hoof against the trigger lever on the bottom. The bow had been given as a present to her from an old friend. Fleet had named it Sunburst the Crossbow and frankly she doubted any crossbow would suit her more than this one did. Levelling the sight at the back of the Ursa’s neck, Fleet fired the bow without even attempting to focus her aim, considering the sheer girth of the beast made it difficult to miss. The bolt buried itself deep inside the grotesque neck of the Ursa. He did not seem to have been hindered by such an insignificant sliver of metal, but if Fleet was disappointed she did not show it.
Fleetfire took to the skies and watched the scene unfold beneath her, a satisfied smile playing across her face. The Ursa Major’s stride broke slightly, but he stayed determined and kept moving at a blinding pace. Soaring closer to his face, Fleet waved into his eye which managed to encompass her entire body in size; it narrowed when he caught sight of her, but suddenly became quite unfocussed. With each faltering step, the Ursa began to slow down until he shambled slowly to a halt. Shaking his mountain sized cranium, he emitted an ear-splitting roar and stumbled into a small river. As it turned out, the river was not small at all; Fleetfire’s sense of perspective had gone out the window.
She flew down next to the lowly rumbling Ursa Major, he shifted slightly, but all he did was roll over and grunt in his sleep. She tapped the bear with her hoof but it ceased to move, the sleeping drug from the crossbow bolt had done the job beautifully. It had come from a tranceflower she had picked up two days ago, growing in the husk of a dead tree, one of the most powerful natural sedatives in the world. She looked out over the river, at the long trail of destruction the Ursa Major had wrought and chuckled. For a moment the laughter persisted as she tried to come to terms with what had just happened, then in a spate of giggles she subsided to the floor.
Looking in her bag, Fleetfire withdrew a box of dried apple slices, courtesy of the Apple Family. Her mind was trying to cope with what had happened, did I really just take down an Ursa Major? Invading dark clouds touched the horizon, Fleetfire looked balefully at them. Chewing absently on the fruit, she took a closer investigation of the damage that had been caused to the landscape. Not a single blade of grass had escaped the madness. She wondered what to do about the Ursa Major, the drug would keep it asleep for a whole week, but after that, things could get dicey. She sank back with a dazed sigh, what a morning it had been.
***
As the warm day sank into the horizon, the frosty realm of night awoke. Light drained from the sky like water from a broken bucket. Fleetfire Bittermane trotted silently through the twilit forest as the night creatures hunted, hooted and howled. Disembodied screeches echoed down from the leaf-heavy canopies. Insects buzzed and chittered, obscured in the dense undergrowth. Fleet was sure she had heard a low growl from somewhere in the dark, She ignored the noise and moved faster, glancing warily from left to right. I should set up shelter for the night, I don’t want to end up a meal for Timberwolves, she thought edgily, just a bit further.
Above her head, the wind moaned through the branches of the trees. As she climbed higher through the mist-gripped valley, the scenery began to change. Plant life dwindled to nothing but twisted brambles and grey weeds, the trees were leafless and ashen in texture, it seemed almost like life had been bled from the place. Not a single sound here, she noted as she stepped over a dead tree lying across her path. The absence of noise was vexing; it hit Fleetfire like a tidal wave, causing her to feel slightly unnerved. ‘So empty. So devoid of warmth,’ she said, her heart felt like it was working overtime.
Notably, the lack of noise should have been good news to her, had she not felt like she was being watched by someone or something. Turning to glance behind her, Fleet saw a slight movement out of the corner of her eye; she spun to catch the stalker off guard. Darkness, oppressing and mysterious, pressed in from all around Fleetfire, her eyes stayed fixed firmly upon the ground in front of her. Nothing there, she reassured herself, just the mind up to its old tricks. She resumed her brisk trot. From where she was the moon cast a bleach-like pallor to every surface, almost like the place had turned to stone.
A grave of moonlit statues, her mind whispered. Fleetfire shivered at the thought and forced herself to look at the trail ahead, still certain that her hoofsteps were not just echoing through the valley. Crack. Fleet spun around, heart hammering away in her chest like an up-tempo drumbeat. In the foggy shadows something moved. ‘Hello. Is anypony there?’
A figure stepped out from between the shadows of two spindly birch trees. It was a blue Pegasus with a wheat-brown mane. His wings were open as though he wished to take off. None of these facts unnerved her, if anything, what caused her the most discomfort was his smiling mouth and piercing eyes.
The colt’s smile didn’t waver, not even remotely. In actual fact he was perfectly still. ‘Who are you?’ Fleetfire demanded, reaching slowly for the crossbow on her back.
The smiling Pegasus didn’t move an inch in the shadowy glade, his smile persisted much to Fleetfire’s irritation. ‘Listen, I’ve had really stressful day and I would like to settle down for the night,’ Fleetfire told him, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. The crooked smile and the eyes bored into her mind, she shivered involuntarily.
‘I don’t plan to do so unless you can tell me what you want or just go away.’
The pony didn’t even blink. He must be mad, Fleetfire conceded.
‘What’s your name?’ she asked, aware of how fast her heart was beating. The question seemed to elicit a small response from the colt. The eyes slowly refocused until they burned into Fleetfire’s own, the smile grew wider. Not removing his eyes from Fleet, the smiling Pegasus turned and revealed his flank. Staring back at her was a yellow smiling face. ‘My name,’ the Pegasus said in a low and rasping tone, chuckling softly between each word, ‘is Smiley Jack.’
Ah, thought Fleetfire in mild distress, she remembered that name from somewhere and not in a good way. ‘What do you want? I have nothing you could possibly want.’
The smile returned, broader than ever. Smiley Jack threw back his head and laughed. ‘Oh but there is something I want,’ he replied with a deranged grin, ‘and you have pints of it.’ Fleetfire’s mind went from being blindly confused to uncomfortably aware of the colt’s intentions. Before she could speak, Smiley pulled an old rust-stained revolver out of seemingly nowhere. He levelled it at her and fired. But Fleetfire fired her crossbow a mere millisecond before he did.
The crossbow bolt slammed into Smiley and took him off his hooves and into a birch, pinning him in place. The revolver had fallen onto the cold forest floor. A small haze of smoke drifted from the barrel. Fleetfire smiled triumphantly, then winced in pain and looked down with rising trepidation. Blood gushed from a wound in her left wing; luckily the bullet had only grazed her. She bandaged herself with her scarf to stop the bleeding, gasping in discomfort as her shoulder began to throb. Jack snarled at Fleet, he was struggling to get his foreleg free from the bolt, but every time he moved he just caused himself even more pain.
Stalking up to him with teeth gritted in rage, Fleetfire slammed her head into his snout and he howled in both rage and agony. A dark feeling settled over her heart, this was the first time in her life she had ever deliberately caused somepony pain, and for some reason it did not affect her too deeply. She grimaced as pain reverberated through her own body; she struggled to ignore it as she pulled the bolt from Smiley’s right foreleg. He screamed abuse at her, ‘YOU think you can buck with me? You should see what has happened to others who BUCK WITH ME!’ The mad colt lay breathlessly against the birch and began to giggle.
‘I remember the last pony I murdered. She was eating a sandwich. I just waltzed right up behind her and said, “I could just murder a sandwich right now.”’
A pained cackle escaped his mouth. Fleetfire spared him her look of derisive loathing and knocked him out cold instead with the back of Sunburst. As she turned to go, the pounding agony in the left side of her body rose and she teetered unsteadily. When Fleetfire’s vision cleared, she was breathing raggedly and clutching her bandaged wing. She looked at the scarf, was it redder than when she’d put it on?
Looking behind her to where Smiley Jack lay insensate, Fleet knew she couldn’t afford to hang about any longer. She cantered through the forest shakily. In truth, what she needed now was to rest, but being so close to Smiley Jack was a risk she was unwilling to take. Stumbling through the foliage and tripping over the rutted earth, Fleetfire moved as fast as she dared through the grey trees. After five minutes of nearly jarring herself half to death, Fleet sat down to catch her breath. And that’s when she heard it, quiet at first but definitely getting louder, a cackling laugh resonating through the forest.
Climbing wearily back to her hooves, she galloped as fast as she dared through the dense thickets and unpredictable flora. Glancing over her shoulder, Fleetfire caught a glimpse of Smiley soaring through the trees above her, leaping from branch to branch and chuckling madly all the way. At least I have his gun, she recollected with a look of forced satisfaction. Without warning, her vision dimmed and her legs weakened. Fleetfire crashed awkwardly to the floor and groaned in pain, her bandages were soaked through and almost all of her energy was depleted.
She pulled herself up onto her forehooves and prepared her crossbow, ready for when Smiley showed up. She clamped her mouth down on the knot in the bandage and pulled it tight. With great difficulty Fleet held in a scream as more pain blossomed through her body. Fleet wheezed as she sat up, she watched in growing trepidation as Smiley Jack emerged from the canopy and landed at her feet. His wings folded shut and his face cracked into another one of his exaggerated smiles and a razor flashed in the light of the dawn sky. Fleetfire aimed her crossbow and fired but he dodged the bolt and chuckled teasingly.
Before she could reload, he darted in and pressed the cold blade of the razor up against her throat. He leered evilly within an inch of her face and his eyes gleamed triumphantly. ‘Go on dear, scream. I used to get pleasure from hearing ponies laugh, but… jokes get old I guess. Screaming, however, doesn’t.’
Fleetfire didn’t scream. She was almost certain that attempting to do so would be hopeless, not only that but she was determined not to appear weak before Smiley. She glowered at him instead.
‘I don’t mean to cliché your last moments,’ Smiley whispered in Fleet’s ear; his alcohol tinged breath made her stomach churn. ‘But I have to say it. Got any last words, my dear?’
Fleetfire remained silent, choosing instead to shut her eyes tight and not think about what was sure to come. ‘Well it was interesting meeting you in my neck of the woods. Aha! Neck… You’ll soon have a rather messed up one,’ Smiley pointed out joyfully with the razor-sharp end of his serrated knife, ‘Goodbye stranger.’
He reacquainted the blade with the hair over her neck, Fleetfire tried not to swallow though the urge was massive as saliva rose in the back of her throat. But the razor didn’t move across her neck, rather it clattered to the floor next to her head making her ear twitch at the sound. Cautiously, Fleetfire opened her eyes, her sight was slightly blurred and the light of the morning sky flared, causing her to squint. Smiley was tottering to her left, a smile still frozen on his face, his eyebrows met in confusion. His eyes slowly glazed over and he crashed to the ground beside her, unconscious and moaning softly.
Where Smiley had stood, a figure stood over Fleet, tall and imperious. ‘Who- who are you?’ she asked as her vision clouded over. The individual was joined by others. ‘Is she ok?’ a voice asked urgently. After a deliberative pause, the mysterious tall figure replied, ‘no, but she will be.’
Fleetfire’s head grew heavy and it hit the leafy ground, her mind fogged with darkness and within seconds she was detached from reality and falling through a world of dreams, and of nightmares.

Spoiler
The night shift began in Florida State Prison; guards paced the dimly lit hallways once every hour, keeping count of the various inmates as they slept in their cells. One particular hallway, gloomier than the rest, was marked with red numbers next to the cell doors. This was Death Row. A solitary guard sat at a desk at the end of the corridor and listened to music through a pair of tacky green earphones. He flicked through his songs and grumbled with unsuppressed boredom. Unbeknown to the self-sympathetic guard, the inmate of cell thirteen was not alone in his cell.
The prisoner of cell thirteen looked around with haunted grey eyes, they were narrowed and ringed with menacing shadows, his face was pale and he had black stubble on his chin. He wore the usual attire for a prisoner on his way down the last mile, an orange shirt and blue trousers. Nathan Sombre, convicted for the murder of fifteen civilians on a bus, stretched his arms out until the ligaments cracked, he sighed contentedly. Out of the folds of sleep he had awoken, something had roused him from slumber. But, as Nathan scanned his small cell with sepulchral weariness, nothing out of the ordinary had changed.
He hated the place. The decorators seem to have a sincere love for metal and brick, he thought grimly. His eyes wandered around his cell. He jumped back in surprise. ‘How the fuck did you get in here?’
His voice was higher pitched than usual, but had a smooth American lilt to it. The question was intended for a young man with blood-red hair, who had somehow managed to get into Nathan’s cell. He was wearing a grey hoodie and tight jeans with a tear-drop on each pocket. His arms were casually folded. He was oddly comfortable in sharing a prison cell with a convicted serial killer.
A self-assured smirk appeared on the mysterious man’s face. ‘Ah. Well, you know… portals and all that nonsense,’ he said with a barely conceivable smile. ‘Allow me to introduce myself, I am Grief. And… your name is Nathan, I do believe.’
Grief held out his hand, waiting for the human to shake it. Nathan stared, his mouth hung open.
‘I thought that’s what people do here. Don’t you humans shake hooves on meeting each other?’
Nathan blinked several times and eventually found the right words. ‘You… You can’t be in here. What do you want? I… did you say hooves?’
Grief looked at his hands and sighed, this was harder than he had originally thought. He found a sudden interest in the small iron sink set into the brick wall of Nathan’s cell. He pressed a button one the side and a small jet of water splashed into his face.
Nathan watched the proceedings awkwardly, bewilderment further clouding his thoughts.
‘Am I going mad?’
Grief considered the question as he wiped water from his eyes and face. ‘Mad? Ah, well… yes, you are. Happy now?’
‘Are you here to break me out?’
Grief inclined his head and then raised a finger before Nathan could speak further. ‘I’m here because you have a power that I seriously doubt you have discovered. You are still locked up after all.’
His face grew serious.
‘Enough questions. Let me tell you a little story,’ he said, glancing at Nathan before sitting down on the bed. ‘You can believe it or not, that’s up to you. But it is the truth.’
Reluctantly, Nathan seated himself beside Grief and listened quietly. During the story, Nathan’s expression changed from sceptical, to mocking and lastly to blatant derision.
‘You’re mad,’ he whispered with a quivering voice and began to laugh uncertainly. Nathan stopped himself with a sharp intake of breath and looked at Grief intently, ‘No… I’ve gone insane. You’re not real.’
In reply, Grief leant forwards and poked Nathan in the chest, he grinned boldly. ‘Not real, huh?’
The soft drum of feet on plastic tiles slowly became gradually more ambient, their heads turned to the cell door. Nathan jumped as he was unexpectedly gripped by the shoulder, Grief whispered into his ear, ‘don’t panic. This isn’t the place to decide if I am real or not. We’ve got to go.’
Nodding dumbly, Nathan looked back at the door one last time; a shadow clouded the bars as the guard drew near.
Nathan’s eyebrows met as a surprisingly intelligent thought crossed his mind. He asked, ‘how are we getting out?’
He turned to face Grief and his jaw dropped. An oval of purple light gyrated on the wall of his cell, like the abysmal depths of a storm.
‘Time to go before the guard checks your cell,’ Grief hissed urgently, ‘it’s a portal. You go in one side and come out of another.’
The crazy son of a bitch wasn’t lying, thought an overwhelmed Nathan.
He nodded absently in resignation to what Grief had said. ‘L-let’s go,’ he said, still gawping at the purple haze. Grief shook his head and laughed, ‘and they call you a murderer. Sure.’
He walked into the portal and disappeared, it rippled like the windswept surface of a lake. Nathan was sweating, his mind was crowded with fears and questions, but he knew there was no time to stall. Shutting his eyes, he stretched out his hand nervously. He glanced through the cracks of his eyelids. Half of his arm was swallowed in purple radiance, he breathed out in relief. At least it hasn’t eaten me, he thought as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
As soon as the thought had surfaced in his mind, Nathan was yanked into the portal. Alarmed by the suddenness of whatever had happened, he almost panicked, but he realized he was in no immediate danger. Stars whizzed past so quick that they became white lines in his field of vision. It felt as though he was falling through the empty plains of space. He saw another figure below him. That must be Grief, he thought grimly. For the first time, he wondered where he was going. Grief had mentioned somewhere called Equestria in his story. Is that where I’m going?
He ruminated on the possibilities as he fell through the endless void. ‘At least I’m out of that dreadful place,’ he murmured, smiling slightly, then he scowled, or he could just be dreaming again. Unexpectedly, a veil of intense darkness shrouded his vision. Without any warning he found himself falling down through many stratums of dense, grey clouds. His arms and legs pedalled furiously in the air as though it would slow him down, it didn’t. The ground fast approached, an ocean of green forest encompassing his vision. He screamed. Cold winds buffeted him as he plummeted to his doom.
Tall trees, cool blue lakes and lush vegetation became more discernible through his watering eyes. Nathan tried to scream again, but the breeze whisked away his voice and left him breathless. He could see the individual leaves on the branches of the proudly standing trees. He closed his eyes and curled up in a ball, he sensed the branches flashing past, this was surely his time. But he didn’t feel the crushing sensation of being splattered on the ground; he wasn’t afforded such a pleasant death. The wind stopped whistling in his ears and he felt moist dirt beneath his freezing hands.
Nathan rose unsteadily to his feet and vomited on them, he leaned against a tree and slid down the trunk as dizziness hit. Gasping in shock, he looked at himself, not a single bone was broken. His expression became less vexed and significantly more perplexed. ‘How on earth did I survive that fall?’
He leaned over and retched, the taste of his previous meal still distinct in his mouth. A voice answered his question, it was Grief speaking. ‘Magic, you see. Pure, unsealed energy at your own hooves. Beautiful isn’t it?’
Getting carefully back on his feet, Nathan glimpsed behind the tree and found himself eye to eye with a bizarre looking pony. It had a red mane and grey body, with a mark on the flank depicting a tear-drop falling from a shut eye. Understanding sank in as Nathan remembered the story Grief had told, his jaw started to drop. Grief reached out with his hoof and closed Nathan’s mouth. ‘Yes, it’s me. Surprise! I’m a pony,’ he said sardonically, with no hint of humour. He can talk too, thought Nathan and decided to get used to being amazed every time something weird happened.
‘Why am I here?’
The question rose from Nathan’s lips without much needed consideration; he regarded Grief with placid grey eyes and awaited a response. After a moment of uncommunicativeness, Grief opened his eyes and looked directly at Nathan. ‘You are here because you have magic. Keep with the program dumb-ass!’
Unsure how to respond, Nathan forwent the disbelief and let his mind resolve the conflict instead. Grief didn’t give him a chance to think up a clever reply.
The unicorn trotted past Nathan and glanced back to him. ‘I can’t stay,’ Grief said as the portal rematerialized at his feet. ‘And you too have places to go. My master will speak to you in your mind. He will direct you to him and teach you magic.’
Nathan flinched as a voice entered his head. It is I, Coltheart. Do not fear. I am here to lead you to more power than you ever deemed possible. He shook his head, trying to clear the voice from his mind, but he sensed it was still lurking in the depths. He shuddered involuntarily.
Grief nodded to the confounded human and disappeared through the portal with a brief rushing noise like wind. The portal shrank until it had fully dissipated. Nathan was left alone in a forest, in another world. Time to go, I guess, he thought desolately. He grumbled as he started to walk. The voice returned, making him start in alarm. He gritted his teeth. Your journey starts here, Nathan. Keep your back to the morning sun and walk straight. Remember, I can help you. The voice ceased, but the cold presence remained, hovering just outside of Nathan’s mental grasp.
He swallowed anxiously and looked for the sun through the forest-canopy; it burned through the green leaves above his head. He started to walk, slow at first but the sounds of creatures caused him to pick up the pace. With the sun-set behind him and a dark path ahead, he moved on with growing confidence. The voice whispered to him. I will be your guide, Nathan.
***
Warm beams of sunlight filtered through the shutters of the window and extended through the otherwise dark room to a sleeping Fleetfire. Then the light reached her face and she awoke, squinting in the intense glow of the morning sun. Fleet grunted in sorrow for having come around so early in the day, she pulled the covers over her head. With a start she remembered the dream she had been having. She had defeated a giant bear-beast. Also, a creepy Pegasus colt with a gun had shot her and then chased her through a forest. The Everfree forest if she knew better. What a dream, she mused with a miniscule chortle, I need to lay off the cider.
‘Are you awake?’
Fleetfire baulked at the voice, she hadn’t expected visitors so early in the day. She threw off her bedcovers and proceeded to climb out of bed, but halted when she saw who had spoken. A mare that appeared to be about the same age as Fleet looked down from a chair next to the bed, a smile on her face. The stranger had a slick brown mane that hung densely around her shoulders; her body was coated with white hair and she had a willowy frame. Through her mane poke a slender white horn, it was surrounded by a pale glow as she magically lifted a book off her lap and to the bedside table.
With a quick glance around the room, Fleetfire knew that this was not her home, she may not have been dreaming after all. The unicorn beside Fleet reached out and steadied her as she moved to stand up, Fleetfire looked into the young mare’s warm brown eyes and glanced around the room again. She gasped and craned her neck so as to see the wing that had been shot. It looked freshly bandaged and she did not feel any pain. So it wasn’t a dream, she thought disappointedly, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to fly for a while. ‘My name is Tech Sketch,’ the unicorn told Fleet as she took her by the arm and led her to the door of the room.
They entered a long hallway with intricately carved pillars and a high-arched roof. A long wooden table was festooned with many dishes of food, from platters of acorn-cream cheesecake and crisp apple pie, to salvers of mushroom risotto and petunia sandwiches. In the middle, jugs of freshly squeezed apple juice, milk and what seemed to be red wine were waiting to be poured into crystalline glasses. Tech continued to speak to Fleetfire as she guided her to a generously cushioned chair and sat beside her. ‘Help yourself to food. There’s plenty of it and the others have already eaten.’
For the first time since waking, Fleetfire realized that she was in fact starving. She looked at the food before her, reached out and took a sandwich. She looked up at the room before she took a bite. Fire crackled from a stone depression in the floor at one end to the hall, a log was resting inside. Armchairs and low tables were scattered throughout small alcoves. It was comforting to see such normal surroundings. She sunk her teeth into the bread cautiously, looking with wary eyes at Tech Sketch who smiled kindly in response. It tasted delicious and she consumed the rest of the sandwich with voracious enthusiasm.
Fleet helped herself to apple juice; the golden nectar was delicious and refreshing. ‘You haven’t spoken at all since you’ve woken. You must have questions,’ Tech Sketch said brightly, she leant her head to the side and studied Fleetfire with interested eyes. Fleetfire swallowed away a lump as she thought about the horror of meeting Smiley Jack. She remembered seeing other ponies stood over her as she lost consciousness. Who were they? No, she could ask that later, it didn’t seem important now. They had saved her from certain death and she should keep that in mind.
Fleet put down her glass and her eyes narrowed as she turned the question over in her mind. ‘You can start by telling me where I am,’ she said coolly, returning Tech’s keen gaze. Unflustered, Tech straightened up in her chair and shook her head with a brief flash of her teeth. ‘This is Shrouded Redoubt. I’m afraid I can’t tell you where exactly in Equestria you are, though there is someone who can.’
Standing up and pushing the chair to, Tech gestured to Fleetfire to follow and walked to a large timber door at the far end of the hallway.
A lever was set into the stone floor in one corner and, as Fleet watched with gradually accelerating curiosity, Tech Sketch pulled it towards herself with a click. The huge oak door swung open with a resonant groan and Sketch trotted out into the sunlight, a watchful Fleetfire tailing close behind. They were in the inner courtyard of mosaic tiles, at various stations in the yard were piles of training equipment. Fleet noticed a few straw dummies and wooden swords to her left as they walked through the yard, and to her right was a row of painted shooting targets, some on moving ropes and others nailed to fences.
Her eyebrows knitted as she tried to come to terms with what she was seeing. Is this a military training academy? Before she could ask, they reached the other side of the enclosed courtyard and entered another door, smaller than the last but made of evidently thick iron. She tapped it with her hoof as they entered the room and was surprised to find it was not hollow. Once both ponies were inside, Tech Sketch turned and slid a thick bar across the door until it clicked into place, Fleetfire mulled over this in her mind, whatever was in the room must be important.
She turned to face the room as Tech strode past, her hoof-beats echoing on the polished wooden floorboards, and looked on in amazement at an archive of treasures, the likes of which she had never set eyes upon before. Tech glanced around with an amused expression on her face, ‘come, there’s much to discuss. I’m taking you to see the Commander.’
With a barely perceptible ‘Ok,’ Fleetfire got her legs mobile once more and continued after Tech Sketch. Treasures of ancient times were stacked neatly on shelves, polished and gleaming.
There were old books and scrolls all piled into cabinets, lined with dust, but they appeared to be well preserved. Fleetfire followed the clip-clop of Tech’s hooves, too distracted to notice where they were going, her eyes wide and her brain trying to not haemorrhage in awe. ‘Where did you get all these artefacts?’
Nodding slightly as though she had expected the question, Tech answered with a quick sweep of a front hoof. ‘Most of what you see in this room is what has been salvaged from the castle and surrounding areas. I’m afraid I can’t tell you more until we’re sure you’re trustworthy. No doubt you are.’
Fleetfire bowed her head in acknowledgement; she had expected more secrecy from this mysterious mare. They found themselves at another door, this one was open and a winding staircase took them to another room containing an old looking Alicorn colt sat in a chair. The room was arranged in the style of an office. A desk was located in the middle of the room, with a pile of blank parchment and an inkwell. The Alicorn observed Fleetfire with keen blue eyes, he remained expressionless. Tech Sketch was the first to speak, crossing her hoof over her chest and bowing her head.
‘Commander, I have done as you asked. Will that be all, sir?’
The Commander broke eye contact with Fleetfire for a few seconds and shook his head. ‘Yes,’ he said in a gravelly voice that sounded both tired and weathered, ‘that will be all thank you, Tech Sketch. You may take your leave.’
With a curt nod, Tech left the room and Fleetfire was on her own with the Commander. He gestured to a plush chair. ‘Please, be seated. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?’
Fleet sat down hesitantly, the chair was comfortable and she felt herself relax.
She looked at the Colt with hardly subdued interest. His mane was completely white in contrast to the hair on his body which was a dark grey, almost black. The face that gazed back at her was kind, despite the scar that crossed his left cheek and wove around the top of his snuzzle. ‘So, I expect you’re wondering why on earth you are here, or better… where on earth,’ the Commander said calmly, setting aside a mound of parchment. ‘I can answer all of your questions, but first I have some questions for you.’
With a dry swallow, Fleetfire nodded, she had nothing to hide, but there was still a small slice of trepidation deep in her heart.
‘Sure, but I’ve not done anything wrong, at least not to my knowledge,’ she replied seriously. The Commander chuckled in response, it was a welcome sound and it put Fleetfire at ease, for now. ‘I do not disagree,’ he said as he dipped a quill in the inkwell on his desk. ‘But it is the standard here. Now, first question. What were you doing inside the Everfree Forest?’
Fleetfire paused, she remembered her motivation for entering that wretched place, but the truth hurt to tell. With a despondent sigh, she decided to be honest; it would help her reason with her own decisions anyway.
She finally started to talk, ‘I was going to the place where my parents were last seen. When I was nothing more than a baby filly, there was a whole group of ponies, travelling from Canterlot back to Cloudsdale after the events of Griffontide. My parents were there, I was carried on my mother’s back. Without warning, we got attacked by a vast multitude of dragons, so big that the sky went dark. I was supposedly the only survivor of the attack, but there is no knowing for sure.’
She paused, wondering if she should continue.
That was all that the Commander needed to know, surely. He didn’t speak, so she continued her story with growing sorrow. ‘A dragon found me. But, unlike the others, this dragon was different. He chose to care for me and raised me until he decided it was time for me to return to pony civilization. His name was Icemaw.’
She finished and looked at the Commander solemnly, but he seemed to be deep in thought and thus distracted. After a minute, he gave her a momentary look and exhaled deeply. ‘I know of the attack,’ he said with a resigned nod.
‘After the war with the Griffons, ponies began to return home from sanctuaries and Canterlot. Dragons had never seen so many unarmed ponies and took advantage of the situation. Celestia’s army did their bit, as did the Wonderbolts, defending who they could.’
Fleetfire started at the mention of the Wonderbolts, she herself was part of Flight Squadron Three. The Commander noticed the reaction. ‘Yes, we know who you are, Fleetfire Bittermane, you are a survivor. Now you know why nopony has asked your name, we already know who you are.’
He pointed outside the window behind his chair, ‘when I say we, I mean these fine Mares and Gentlecolts.’
He gestured for her to come over to the window, she looked out curiously. A group of about twenty ponies had entered the courtyard. They all seemed to be chatting together, jousting, fencing or practising archery. In a separate corner, two Unicorns hurled fire and electricity at each other. They were both wearing extremely protective armour. Fleetfire noticed that Tech Sketch was among them. ‘Who are they?’
In reply, the Commander finished off the story. ‘As I was saying, the Wonderbolts and the Army worked to paramount efficiency to try and protect the citizens of Equestria from the dragon assault. However, their best was not enough, sadly. That’s when we came in and saved the day. We are not the same as every other army, we’re friends, we work together and we are secret.’
The last word he spoke, he rolled off his tongue as if to emphasize the point.
‘So,’ Fleetfire said, casually now, as she felt safe in the presence of the old Alicorn, ‘you would like me to join. Is that what you want?’
The Commander had seated himself once again, still staring out of the window along with Fleetfire. ‘I see a survivor in you, Fleetfire. I see potential to do great things to ensure the protection of Equestria.’
‘What if I say no? Will you stop me from leaving?’ she replied abruptly, remembering what she had originally set out to do.
The Commander shook his head composedly, ‘No. I will not. Nor will the others, the door is there if you wish to go.’
She looked at the door and then back at the Commander indecisively, her mind raced as she considered the implications of both options. She could choose to leave, go and find the place where her parents were last seen and then what? Go back to her job as a Wonderbolt? She did enjoy her job, what with it being something she had aspired to do. Or she could stay here and be a protector of Equestria.
She had to make a decision. Before she could speak, the Commander leaned forward on his desk and spoke to her, ‘you will not lose your current job. I will only call you into service when the time comes. As it happens, you helped us find one of Equestria’s most notorious killers, so you’ve given us some time off until another assignment comes up.’
Smiley Jack, thought Fleetfire with a shudder. ‘Where is he now? You know, Jack?’
The old commander cracked a knowing smile, ‘I imagine he is still sleeping. He took a nasty knock to the head. He’s in a cell in the subterranean level of the castle.’
‘Ah,’ Fleetfire said with a relieved grin, ‘Well, I’m glad I could help.’
Another thought seemed to cross the Commander’s mind. ‘Did you perchance see an Ursa Major in your travels? We haven’t lost him, quite the contrary, but it would seem that he managed to intake a small dose of Tranceflower sedative. We found him fast asleep next to a river.’
Fleetfire chortled, ‘that would be me. I shot a bolt into his neck, it must still be there.’
The Commander looked at her. He blinked. ‘Wait. You took on a fully grown male Ursa Major?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, sitting down with a swift movement. ‘Well this merely adds to the point I’ve been trying to make. You are a survivor. Will you join us, Miss Fleetfire?
She stared at the Commander, her heart pounded and her mind raced. Then she looked out of the window and nodded. ‘Yes. But I need to know who you really are. Who are you? Who are they?’
The Commander met her scrutiny with an unblinking gaze.
‘Alone, we are normal individuals who live our own lives,’ he spoke slowly, ‘but together, we are something more. We are the sanctuary that ponies will find in their hearts, because, though we’re secret, there is no hiding kindness. We are hope, we are strength. But most of all, we are the Harmonosphere.’
Fleetfire accepted this silently. She moved away from the window, leant against a chair as she thought, and set her jaw firmly as she agreed that this was her destiny, for the time being. ‘So… What do I need to do now?’
The old Alicorn glanced up from the papers at his desk and smirked. ‘Training,’ he replied.
The night shift began in Florida State Prison; guards paced the dimly lit hallways once every hour, keeping count of the various inmates as they slept in their cells. One particular hallway, gloomier than the rest, was marked with red numbers next to the cell doors. This was Death Row. A solitary guard sat at a desk at the end of the corridor and listened to music through a pair of tacky green earphones. He flicked through his songs and grumbled with unsuppressed boredom. Unbeknown to the self-sympathetic guard, the inmate of cell thirteen was not alone in his cell.
The prisoner of cell thirteen looked around with haunted grey eyes, they were narrowed and ringed with menacing shadows, his face was pale and he had black stubble on his chin. He wore the usual attire for a prisoner on his way down the last mile, an orange shirt and blue trousers. Nathan Sombre, convicted for the murder of fifteen civilians on a bus, stretched his arms out until the ligaments cracked, he sighed contentedly. Out of the folds of sleep he had awoken, something had roused him from slumber. But, as Nathan scanned his small cell with sepulchral weariness, nothing out of the ordinary had changed.
He hated the place. The decorators seem to have a sincere love for metal and brick, he thought grimly. His eyes wandered around his cell. He jumped back in surprise. ‘How the fuck did you get in here?’
His voice was higher pitched than usual, but had a smooth American lilt to it. The question was intended for a young man with blood-red hair, who had somehow managed to get into Nathan’s cell. He was wearing a grey hoodie and tight jeans with a tear-drop on each pocket. His arms were casually folded. He was oddly comfortable in sharing a prison cell with a convicted serial killer.
A self-assured smirk appeared on the mysterious man’s face. ‘Ah. Well, you know… portals and all that nonsense,’ he said with a barely conceivable smile. ‘Allow me to introduce myself, I am Grief. And… your name is Nathan, I do believe.’
Grief held out his hand, waiting for the human to shake it. Nathan stared, his mouth hung open.
‘I thought that’s what people do here. Don’t you humans shake hooves on meeting each other?’
Nathan blinked several times and eventually found the right words. ‘You… You can’t be in here. What do you want? I… did you say hooves?’
Grief looked at his hands and sighed, this was harder than he had originally thought. He found a sudden interest in the small iron sink set into the brick wall of Nathan’s cell. He pressed a button one the side and a small jet of water splashed into his face.
Nathan watched the proceedings awkwardly, bewilderment further clouding his thoughts.
‘Am I going mad?’
Grief considered the question as he wiped water from his eyes and face. ‘Mad? Ah, well… yes, you are. Happy now?’
‘Are you here to break me out?’
Grief inclined his head and then raised a finger before Nathan could speak further. ‘I’m here because you have a power that I seriously doubt you have discovered. You are still locked up after all.’
His face grew serious.
‘Enough questions. Let me tell you a little story,’ he said, glancing at Nathan before sitting down on the bed. ‘You can believe it or not, that’s up to you. But it is the truth.’
Reluctantly, Nathan seated himself beside Grief and listened quietly. During the story, Nathan’s expression changed from sceptical, to mocking and lastly to blatant derision.
‘You’re mad,’ he whispered with a quivering voice and began to laugh uncertainly. Nathan stopped himself with a sharp intake of breath and looked at Grief intently, ‘No… I’ve gone insane. You’re not real.’
In reply, Grief leant forwards and poked Nathan in the chest, he grinned boldly. ‘Not real, huh?’
The soft drum of feet on plastic tiles slowly became gradually more ambient, their heads turned to the cell door. Nathan jumped as he was unexpectedly gripped by the shoulder, Grief whispered into his ear, ‘don’t panic. This isn’t the place to decide if I am real or not. We’ve got to go.’
Nodding dumbly, Nathan looked back at the door one last time; a shadow clouded the bars as the guard drew near.
Nathan’s eyebrows met as a surprisingly intelligent thought crossed his mind. He asked, ‘how are we getting out?’
He turned to face Grief and his jaw dropped. An oval of purple light gyrated on the wall of his cell, like the abysmal depths of a storm.
‘Time to go before the guard checks your cell,’ Grief hissed urgently, ‘it’s a portal. You go in one side and come out of another.’
The crazy son of a bitch wasn’t lying, thought an overwhelmed Nathan.
He nodded absently in resignation to what Grief had said. ‘L-let’s go,’ he said, still gawping at the purple haze. Grief shook his head and laughed, ‘and they call you a murderer. Sure.’
He walked into the portal and disappeared, it rippled like the windswept surface of a lake. Nathan was sweating, his mind was crowded with fears and questions, but he knew there was no time to stall. Shutting his eyes, he stretched out his hand nervously. He glanced through the cracks of his eyelids. Half of his arm was swallowed in purple radiance, he breathed out in relief. At least it hasn’t eaten me, he thought as he wiped sweat from his forehead.
As soon as the thought had surfaced in his mind, Nathan was yanked into the portal. Alarmed by the suddenness of whatever had happened, he almost panicked, but he realized he was in no immediate danger. Stars whizzed past so quick that they became white lines in his field of vision. It felt as though he was falling through the empty plains of space. He saw another figure below him. That must be Grief, he thought grimly. For the first time, he wondered where he was going. Grief had mentioned somewhere called Equestria in his story. Is that where I’m going?
He ruminated on the possibilities as he fell through the endless void. ‘At least I’m out of that dreadful place,’ he murmured, smiling slightly, then he scowled, or he could just be dreaming again. Unexpectedly, a veil of intense darkness shrouded his vision. Without any warning he found himself falling down through many stratums of dense, grey clouds. His arms and legs pedalled furiously in the air as though it would slow him down, it didn’t. The ground fast approached, an ocean of green forest encompassing his vision. He screamed. Cold winds buffeted him as he plummeted to his doom.
Tall trees, cool blue lakes and lush vegetation became more discernible through his watering eyes. Nathan tried to scream again, but the breeze whisked away his voice and left him breathless. He could see the individual leaves on the branches of the proudly standing trees. He closed his eyes and curled up in a ball, he sensed the branches flashing past, this was surely his time. But he didn’t feel the crushing sensation of being splattered on the ground; he wasn’t afforded such a pleasant death. The wind stopped whistling in his ears and he felt moist dirt beneath his freezing hands.
Nathan rose unsteadily to his feet and vomited on them, he leaned against a tree and slid down the trunk as dizziness hit. Gasping in shock, he looked at himself, not a single bone was broken. His expression became less vexed and significantly more perplexed. ‘How on earth did I survive that fall?’
He leaned over and retched, the taste of his previous meal still distinct in his mouth. A voice answered his question, it was Grief speaking. ‘Magic, you see. Pure, unsealed energy at your own hooves. Beautiful isn’t it?’
Getting carefully back on his feet, Nathan glimpsed behind the tree and found himself eye to eye with a bizarre looking pony. It had a red mane and grey body, with a mark on the flank depicting a tear-drop falling from a shut eye. Understanding sank in as Nathan remembered the story Grief had told, his jaw started to drop. Grief reached out with his hoof and closed Nathan’s mouth. ‘Yes, it’s me. Surprise! I’m a pony,’ he said sardonically, with no hint of humour. He can talk too, thought Nathan and decided to get used to being amazed every time something weird happened.
‘Why am I here?’
The question rose from Nathan’s lips without much needed consideration; he regarded Grief with placid grey eyes and awaited a response. After a moment of uncommunicativeness, Grief opened his eyes and looked directly at Nathan. ‘You are here because you have magic. Keep with the program dumb-ass!’
Unsure how to respond, Nathan forwent the disbelief and let his mind resolve the conflict instead. Grief didn’t give him a chance to think up a clever reply.
The unicorn trotted past Nathan and glanced back to him. ‘I can’t stay,’ Grief said as the portal rematerialized at his feet. ‘And you too have places to go. My master will speak to you in your mind. He will direct you to him and teach you magic.’
Nathan flinched as a voice entered his head. It is I, Coltheart. Do not fear. I am here to lead you to more power than you ever deemed possible. He shook his head, trying to clear the voice from his mind, but he sensed it was still lurking in the depths. He shuddered involuntarily.
Grief nodded to the confounded human and disappeared through the portal with a brief rushing noise like wind. The portal shrank until it had fully dissipated. Nathan was left alone in a forest, in another world. Time to go, I guess, he thought desolately. He grumbled as he started to walk. The voice returned, making him start in alarm. He gritted his teeth. Your journey starts here, Nathan. Keep your back to the morning sun and walk straight. Remember, I can help you. The voice ceased, but the cold presence remained, hovering just outside of Nathan’s mental grasp.
He swallowed anxiously and looked for the sun through the forest-canopy; it burned through the green leaves above his head. He started to walk, slow at first but the sounds of creatures caused him to pick up the pace. With the sun-set behind him and a dark path ahead, he moved on with growing confidence. The voice whispered to him. I will be your guide, Nathan.
***
Warm beams of sunlight filtered through the shutters of the window and extended through the otherwise dark room to a sleeping Fleetfire. Then the light reached her face and she awoke, squinting in the intense glow of the morning sun. Fleet grunted in sorrow for having come around so early in the day, she pulled the covers over her head. With a start she remembered the dream she had been having. She had defeated a giant bear-beast. Also, a creepy Pegasus colt with a gun had shot her and then chased her through a forest. The Everfree forest if she knew better. What a dream, she mused with a miniscule chortle, I need to lay off the cider.
‘Are you awake?’
Fleetfire baulked at the voice, she hadn’t expected visitors so early in the day. She threw off her bedcovers and proceeded to climb out of bed, but halted when she saw who had spoken. A mare that appeared to be about the same age as Fleet looked down from a chair next to the bed, a smile on her face. The stranger had a slick brown mane that hung densely around her shoulders; her body was coated with white hair and she had a willowy frame. Through her mane poke a slender white horn, it was surrounded by a pale glow as she magically lifted a book off her lap and to the bedside table.
With a quick glance around the room, Fleetfire knew that this was not her home, she may not have been dreaming after all. The unicorn beside Fleet reached out and steadied her as she moved to stand up, Fleetfire looked into the young mare’s warm brown eyes and glanced around the room again. She gasped and craned her neck so as to see the wing that had been shot. It looked freshly bandaged and she did not feel any pain. So it wasn’t a dream, she thought disappointedly, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to fly for a while. ‘My name is Tech Sketch,’ the unicorn told Fleet as she took her by the arm and led her to the door of the room.
They entered a long hallway with intricately carved pillars and a high-arched roof. A long wooden table was festooned with many dishes of food, from platters of acorn-cream cheesecake and crisp apple pie, to salvers of mushroom risotto and petunia sandwiches. In the middle, jugs of freshly squeezed apple juice, milk and what seemed to be red wine were waiting to be poured into crystalline glasses. Tech continued to speak to Fleetfire as she guided her to a generously cushioned chair and sat beside her. ‘Help yourself to food. There’s plenty of it and the others have already eaten.’
For the first time since waking, Fleetfire realized that she was in fact starving. She looked at the food before her, reached out and took a sandwich. She looked up at the room before she took a bite. Fire crackled from a stone depression in the floor at one end to the hall, a log was resting inside. Armchairs and low tables were scattered throughout small alcoves. It was comforting to see such normal surroundings. She sunk her teeth into the bread cautiously, looking with wary eyes at Tech Sketch who smiled kindly in response. It tasted delicious and she consumed the rest of the sandwich with voracious enthusiasm.
Fleet helped herself to apple juice; the golden nectar was delicious and refreshing. ‘You haven’t spoken at all since you’ve woken. You must have questions,’ Tech Sketch said brightly, she leant her head to the side and studied Fleetfire with interested eyes. Fleetfire swallowed away a lump as she thought about the horror of meeting Smiley Jack. She remembered seeing other ponies stood over her as she lost consciousness. Who were they? No, she could ask that later, it didn’t seem important now. They had saved her from certain death and she should keep that in mind.
Fleet put down her glass and her eyes narrowed as she turned the question over in her mind. ‘You can start by telling me where I am,’ she said coolly, returning Tech’s keen gaze. Unflustered, Tech straightened up in her chair and shook her head with a brief flash of her teeth. ‘This is Shrouded Redoubt. I’m afraid I can’t tell you where exactly in Equestria you are, though there is someone who can.’
Standing up and pushing the chair to, Tech gestured to Fleetfire to follow and walked to a large timber door at the far end of the hallway.
A lever was set into the stone floor in one corner and, as Fleet watched with gradually accelerating curiosity, Tech Sketch pulled it towards herself with a click. The huge oak door swung open with a resonant groan and Sketch trotted out into the sunlight, a watchful Fleetfire tailing close behind. They were in the inner courtyard of mosaic tiles, at various stations in the yard were piles of training equipment. Fleet noticed a few straw dummies and wooden swords to her left as they walked through the yard, and to her right was a row of painted shooting targets, some on moving ropes and others nailed to fences.
Her eyebrows knitted as she tried to come to terms with what she was seeing. Is this a military training academy? Before she could ask, they reached the other side of the enclosed courtyard and entered another door, smaller than the last but made of evidently thick iron. She tapped it with her hoof as they entered the room and was surprised to find it was not hollow. Once both ponies were inside, Tech Sketch turned and slid a thick bar across the door until it clicked into place, Fleetfire mulled over this in her mind, whatever was in the room must be important.
She turned to face the room as Tech strode past, her hoof-beats echoing on the polished wooden floorboards, and looked on in amazement at an archive of treasures, the likes of which she had never set eyes upon before. Tech glanced around with an amused expression on her face, ‘come, there’s much to discuss. I’m taking you to see the Commander.’
With a barely perceptible ‘Ok,’ Fleetfire got her legs mobile once more and continued after Tech Sketch. Treasures of ancient times were stacked neatly on shelves, polished and gleaming.
There were old books and scrolls all piled into cabinets, lined with dust, but they appeared to be well preserved. Fleetfire followed the clip-clop of Tech’s hooves, too distracted to notice where they were going, her eyes wide and her brain trying to not haemorrhage in awe. ‘Where did you get all these artefacts?’
Nodding slightly as though she had expected the question, Tech answered with a quick sweep of a front hoof. ‘Most of what you see in this room is what has been salvaged from the castle and surrounding areas. I’m afraid I can’t tell you more until we’re sure you’re trustworthy. No doubt you are.’
Fleetfire bowed her head in acknowledgement; she had expected more secrecy from this mysterious mare. They found themselves at another door, this one was open and a winding staircase took them to another room containing an old looking Alicorn colt sat in a chair. The room was arranged in the style of an office. A desk was located in the middle of the room, with a pile of blank parchment and an inkwell. The Alicorn observed Fleetfire with keen blue eyes, he remained expressionless. Tech Sketch was the first to speak, crossing her hoof over her chest and bowing her head.
‘Commander, I have done as you asked. Will that be all, sir?’
The Commander broke eye contact with Fleetfire for a few seconds and shook his head. ‘Yes,’ he said in a gravelly voice that sounded both tired and weathered, ‘that will be all thank you, Tech Sketch. You may take your leave.’
With a curt nod, Tech left the room and Fleetfire was on her own with the Commander. He gestured to a plush chair. ‘Please, be seated. Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?’
Fleet sat down hesitantly, the chair was comfortable and she felt herself relax.
She looked at the Colt with hardly subdued interest. His mane was completely white in contrast to the hair on his body which was a dark grey, almost black. The face that gazed back at her was kind, despite the scar that crossed his left cheek and wove around the top of his snuzzle. ‘So, I expect you’re wondering why on earth you are here, or better… where on earth,’ the Commander said calmly, setting aside a mound of parchment. ‘I can answer all of your questions, but first I have some questions for you.’
With a dry swallow, Fleetfire nodded, she had nothing to hide, but there was still a small slice of trepidation deep in her heart.
‘Sure, but I’ve not done anything wrong, at least not to my knowledge,’ she replied seriously. The Commander chuckled in response, it was a welcome sound and it put Fleetfire at ease, for now. ‘I do not disagree,’ he said as he dipped a quill in the inkwell on his desk. ‘But it is the standard here. Now, first question. What were you doing inside the Everfree Forest?’
Fleetfire paused, she remembered her motivation for entering that wretched place, but the truth hurt to tell. With a despondent sigh, she decided to be honest; it would help her reason with her own decisions anyway.
She finally started to talk, ‘I was going to the place where my parents were last seen. When I was nothing more than a baby filly, there was a whole group of ponies, travelling from Canterlot back to Cloudsdale after the events of Griffontide. My parents were there, I was carried on my mother’s back. Without warning, we got attacked by a vast multitude of dragons, so big that the sky went dark. I was supposedly the only survivor of the attack, but there is no knowing for sure.’
She paused, wondering if she should continue.
That was all that the Commander needed to know, surely. He didn’t speak, so she continued her story with growing sorrow. ‘A dragon found me. But, unlike the others, this dragon was different. He chose to care for me and raised me until he decided it was time for me to return to pony civilization. His name was Icemaw.’
She finished and looked at the Commander solemnly, but he seemed to be deep in thought and thus distracted. After a minute, he gave her a momentary look and exhaled deeply. ‘I know of the attack,’ he said with a resigned nod.
‘After the war with the Griffons, ponies began to return home from sanctuaries and Canterlot. Dragons had never seen so many unarmed ponies and took advantage of the situation. Celestia’s army did their bit, as did the Wonderbolts, defending who they could.’
Fleetfire started at the mention of the Wonderbolts, she herself was part of Flight Squadron Three. The Commander noticed the reaction. ‘Yes, we know who you are, Fleetfire Bittermane, you are a survivor. Now you know why nopony has asked your name, we already know who you are.’
He pointed outside the window behind his chair, ‘when I say we, I mean these fine Mares and Gentlecolts.’
He gestured for her to come over to the window, she looked out curiously. A group of about twenty ponies had entered the courtyard. They all seemed to be chatting together, jousting, fencing or practising archery. In a separate corner, two Unicorns hurled fire and electricity at each other. They were both wearing extremely protective armour. Fleetfire noticed that Tech Sketch was among them. ‘Who are they?’
In reply, the Commander finished off the story. ‘As I was saying, the Wonderbolts and the Army worked to paramount efficiency to try and protect the citizens of Equestria from the dragon assault. However, their best was not enough, sadly. That’s when we came in and saved the day. We are not the same as every other army, we’re friends, we work together and we are secret.’
The last word he spoke, he rolled off his tongue as if to emphasize the point.
‘So,’ Fleetfire said, casually now, as she felt safe in the presence of the old Alicorn, ‘you would like me to join. Is that what you want?’
The Commander had seated himself once again, still staring out of the window along with Fleetfire. ‘I see a survivor in you, Fleetfire. I see potential to do great things to ensure the protection of Equestria.’
‘What if I say no? Will you stop me from leaving?’ she replied abruptly, remembering what she had originally set out to do.
The Commander shook his head composedly, ‘No. I will not. Nor will the others, the door is there if you wish to go.’
She looked at the door and then back at the Commander indecisively, her mind raced as she considered the implications of both options. She could choose to leave, go and find the place where her parents were last seen and then what? Go back to her job as a Wonderbolt? She did enjoy her job, what with it being something she had aspired to do. Or she could stay here and be a protector of Equestria.
She had to make a decision. Before she could speak, the Commander leaned forward on his desk and spoke to her, ‘you will not lose your current job. I will only call you into service when the time comes. As it happens, you helped us find one of Equestria’s most notorious killers, so you’ve given us some time off until another assignment comes up.’
Smiley Jack, thought Fleetfire with a shudder. ‘Where is he now? You know, Jack?’
The old commander cracked a knowing smile, ‘I imagine he is still sleeping. He took a nasty knock to the head. He’s in a cell in the subterranean level of the castle.’
‘Ah,’ Fleetfire said with a relieved grin, ‘Well, I’m glad I could help.’
Another thought seemed to cross the Commander’s mind. ‘Did you perchance see an Ursa Major in your travels? We haven’t lost him, quite the contrary, but it would seem that he managed to intake a small dose of Tranceflower sedative. We found him fast asleep next to a river.’
Fleetfire chortled, ‘that would be me. I shot a bolt into his neck, it must still be there.’
The Commander looked at her. He blinked. ‘Wait. You took on a fully grown male Ursa Major?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, sitting down with a swift movement. ‘Well this merely adds to the point I’ve been trying to make. You are a survivor. Will you join us, Miss Fleetfire?
She stared at the Commander, her heart pounded and her mind raced. Then she looked out of the window and nodded. ‘Yes. But I need to know who you really are. Who are you? Who are they?’
The Commander met her scrutiny with an unblinking gaze.
‘Alone, we are normal individuals who live our own lives,’ he spoke slowly, ‘but together, we are something more. We are the sanctuary that ponies will find in their hearts, because, though we’re secret, there is no hiding kindness. We are hope, we are strength. But most of all, we are the Harmonosphere.’
Fleetfire accepted this silently. She moved away from the window, leant against a chair as she thought, and set her jaw firmly as she agreed that this was her destiny, for the time being. ‘So… What do I need to do now?’
The old Alicorn glanced up from the papers at his desk and smirked. ‘Training,’ he replied.
Ooh, and while you're at it, unless you already came from there, check out Defective's: Massive Poster Project
It's real darn good!
Edited by Greebster, 19 February 2013 - 10:03 PM.

















