Freebie Mondays: My Little Domerin – Episode 3: Act 1

I promised my twitch chat I would take Domerin, the grumpy elf main character from the Aruvalia Chronicles, and turn him into a pony if they helped me pay for my replacement computer. I never thought we’d reach that goal – but of course we did. Because my twitch chat continues to be the most generous community out there.

For more details on the project, check the intro. (There are pictures of my characters converted into ponies there as well.)

This story is meant to take place in the same world as “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic,” though it’s unlikely any of the characters from the show will appear in the story. I have attempted to adopt the style of storytelling used by the show (including an episodic format and a ‘season’ instead of chapters in a novel). And some of the ponies that appear were created by donators from my chat. VoDs of the writing sessions are available on my youtube channel!

I hope you enjoy this crazy, silly little romp!
. . .

The tower to which Crescent led Domerin in the wake of their flight from Silvergarden was one of Aruvalia’s best kept secrets. In fact, prior to his arrival, Domerin wasn’t entirely certain how to locate it while traveling over-ground. Every time he’d been to this place, he’d accessed it via underground tunnels.

The path was stashed in the midst of the forest’s thick undergrowth, and the tower itself perched atop a high hill ringed on three sides by steep cliffs and on the fourth by a series of prickly vine plants that grew in such thick chunks, they were nearly impossible to navigate.

Crescent picked his way expertly through the mire, winding around the hillside until he reached its spire, clearly able to determine the rout only because he’d walked it once before. Domerin noted as they climbed that the trees were taller in this portion of the forest and huddled close along the cliff edges, concealing sudden drops and casting thick shadows over the construction.

Flying above wouldn’t reveal this place, nor was it easy to spot from below. It simply seemed like a bramble patch spilling over the edge of a steep cliff drop.

But once they reached the top of the hill, it was easy to see the grey speckle of familiar stone set beneath the clinging vines that concealed the entrance. And once they reached the comfortable room set at the top of the tower, the view provided by the princess’s window allowed anyone with a keen eye to spot approach for a long way in any direction.

Magic probably helped; Rose Draftmore was well studied and wielded the power with a thoughtless ease that still sometimes startled Domerin. But he was more grateful for it today than he had ever been.

Domerin and Crescent made most of the journey through the forest in a full gallop, their hooves pounding a regular rhythm against the hard-packed earth as they narrowly darted out of the way of trees and their seeking roots. But Domerin slowed when he neared the top of the tower to check the security that had been posted in his absence.

True to Crescent’s prediction, he noted with pride that all of his people had assumed the ideal watch positions. Two were  hidden in the brush at the base of the tower, ready to leap out and ambush any sudden assailants. Another three waited at the top of the tower stairs, outside the door, and two had even crept onto the roof to crouch low and watch the approach at the base of the cliff.

He found one more guard posted inside the princess’s haven, though she saluted and left the moment Domerin entered, apparently trusting the princess’s safety to her captain, even though he’d done little to assist with either the assault or the evacuation – a guilt that was beginning to eat away at his gut now that the immediate danger had passed.

Rose was standing near the window, her gaze sweeping over the forest below. But the moment Domerin entered she spun and charged toward him. “Do you have it?” she demanded and fluttered her wings with nervous agitation.

Domerin nodded to Crescent, who reached up to expertly unwind the sheets from his flank. There hadn’t been time to switch to proper rope, so quickly had they moved through portions of the day. Outside, the sun was still high in the sky – marking a time that was probably just past noon. But beneath the thick growth of the forest canopy, the dim light already gave the sense of approaching evening.

It felt to Domerin as though three days had passed since he woke up this morning, but he would never say that. Instead he said, “I was able to retrieve it without much trouble. From the looks of the royal wing when I left it, they sacked your quarters looking for anything of value, but they didn’t find the secret compartment.”

Rose eagerly yanked the box away from Domerin’s midsection the second the bindings were clear, taking control of it with a deft flick of magic from her horn. She summoned the polished wood to her and peeled open the lid.

She relaxed only after her eyes caressed the odd crystal vial and its contents. Domerin noted that it glowed slightly beneath the magic of her horn. But she quickly closed the lid and set the box on a nearby table. Then she placed her hoof atop the lid and breathed a long, soft sigh.

“There is hope,” she murmured. “So long as we have this, we can still restore everything to its rightful state of being.”

“You mentioned that before,” Domerin replied as he slowly crossed the room to stand in front of her. “But I don’t see how even the most powerful crystal in the world can drive away those invaders and restore the palace to its former glory. I mean no disrespect, Princess, but you didn’t see what I saw. They’ve turned that place upside down. They’ll ransack the city next, now that it’s empty. We’ll be lucky if they close the gates and hole up inside rather than trying to take over the next town and the next-“

“I know,” Rose interrupted, her tone soft but solemn. “I hoped it wouldn’t happen, but I always dreaded it would. That was why I worked so hard on this.”

She once again tapped her hoof against the top of the lid, creating a soft clicking sound.

“What is it?” Domerin insisted. “What does it do?”

He was tired. He was hungry. And most of all, he was sad. The life he lived a day ago no longer existed. His country was at war – something he had fought long and hard to prevent – and it didn’t seem like it would be a quick or easy conflict. This was the sort of thing that could take years to resolve and might result in losing a significant amount of their territory to an enemy that, until today, had always been scattered and disorganized.

He questioned how any of this could have happened, how an army could slip across their border and spend several days marching and sheltering before anyone became aware of their plan of attack. He wondered who had sheltered and succored them – and who had advised them to move the way they did.

He wondered most of all if this attack might in some way have been prevented. If only he could have caught wind of the unrest ahead of time, he might have been able to spirit a delegation into their path and worked through things peacefully.

But instead he stood here attempting to stave off the chaos of his brain while he waited impatiently for his princess to make clear how he’d brought hope to Aruvalia amidst the madness.

The silence stretched for a moment, and it was difficult for Domerin to keep his anger in check. He felt strongly that he should be back at the gates of Silvergarden organizing a counterattack, trying to reclaim their territory or at least make it clear they couldn’t be steamrolled.

At last, the princess sighed again, took a step back and sat on her haunches.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that each princess has her own specialty, an area of magical study at which she naturally excels. Princess Celestia rules the domain of light, for example. And Princess Luna shadow, darkness and night.”

“There are princesses of charm and magic as well,” Domerin interjected curtly. “Yes I know.”

“Well,” Rose declared with a hint of a coy smile, “my domain has always been time.”

Domerin’s heart skipped a beat, but he swallowed his pulse before it could begin to race. “Time?” he replied, trying not to sound skeptical.

Rose nodded. “Chronomancy is a complicated form of spellcraft. Not many people are even willing to study it because of the chaos and havoc it can wreak on the rest of the world no matter how careful or well-intentioned the caster might be. But I believe I have determined a way to isolate the effects.

“This crystal,” she pointed to the box, “is the key. Once I insert it into the device that lies at the heart of this tower, it will power the matrix and allow you to affect a single, short jump through time.”

“This sounds like a science fiction movie,” Domerin protested and shook his head, sending his black mane dancing across his shoulders. “How do we even know that time functions as a liner entity? How do we know that activating this machine won’t punch through into an alternate realty which hasn’t suffered the same kind of tragedy we have?”

“I know,” Rose replied and set her hoof against her chest. She even lifted her shoulders and puffed out her chest a bit to emphasize her stated expertise. “Please trust me, Domerin. I would never suggest this if I wasn’t absolutely certain it would work. And even with that certainty, I still wouldn’t attempt this if our need wasn’t dire. If I had only learned about the impending attack a few days sooner…”

She shook her head. “As it is, we’re lucky I managed to complete the key before the attack. I’ve only been certain of the properties for the last few days.”

Which must be why her request that he keep the contraption safe was delivered only the night before the assault.

The princess fell silent, and Domerin’s mind reeled as he considered the possibilities opened up by her suggestion. His desire to fall into his comfortable and familiar bed at the side of his safe and secure partner could still be achieved – though likely not as imminently as he hoped. All the fires he’d seen burning in the city, all the precious antiques destroyed by the sacking of the palace, all the injuries and likely deaths caused during the fighting – all of it could be reversed, erased from all but the memories of a few vigilant guardians.

It felt like a dream too good to be true.

And it felt like a nightmare waiting to happen.

“I know what you’re about to ask me to do,” the captain of the Royal Guard said softly. But he didn’t want her to utter the words. “But I can’t even begin to consider it without first considering all the risks.” Domerin pawed the soft rug that rested beneath his hooves. “What you suggest won’t just affect Aruvalia, or Silvergarden for that matter. There must be good things that happened in the world today, important things. Can we take the risk that we’d unmake them?”

Ponies might have been born during the hours of the attack – almost certainly there were one or two new foals that would be put at risk by the rewinding of time. Not to mention important decisions, life-saving efforts.

The possibilities were staggering.

“The effects will be more localized,” the princess insisted, this time with far more urgency in her tone. “I wouldn’t build a machine like the one that sits in this tower without making certain it couldn’t be abused. You won’t be able to travel outside of Aruvalia. And I have specifically targeted the event that led to this assault. The jump shouldn’t lead to a time or place that would allow you to affect anything else.”

“Shouldn’t?” Domerin stressed. “How certain are you, my lady, that we aren’t about to make this entire situation worse?”

“Certain enough to take the risk,” Rose replied, and her eyes flashed with cold fire. “I don’t think anything we do can possibly be worse than what happened today.”

“Then thank whatever gods there are you don’t share my imagination,” Domerin replied and quickly turned his gaze toward the window from which the princess had observed his approach.

He felt guilty as soon as he spoke the words. He knew that Rose Draftmore was a kind-hearted pony with only the best of intentions. And while she wasn’t as sheltered an individual as it might seem, given her status and stature, he believed she had a tendency to ignore the hardest and coldest aspects of the world. She saw the best of intentions in most people and the brightest possibilities in most situations.

It wasn’t a weakness, but it could lead to short-sightedness.

When Rose didn’t reply to his comment, Domerin allowed himself to drift toward the window. He lowered his horn and pressed his forehead to the cold glass while he scanned the dimly lit area at the base of the cliff. He saw no sign of approach, but then he hadn’t really expected to.

His mind was still on the last few hours and everything that had happened during them.

“It’s not a small thing you ask,” he said softly.

“I know,” the princess replied. “But there is no one I trust more than you to do it.”

He was wise enough to read between the lines. If he refused her, she might not be willing to send anyone else.

“I need time to think this over,” he said and turned to face her. “And time to sleep a little so I can think clearly, if that’s all right.”

“There is a room prepared for you,” Rose replied and motioned to a pair of doorways set on the far side of the chamber, catty-corner to where he’d entered.

Domerin lowered his head again and trudged toward the indicated entry, though the princess’s voice drifted over his shoulder, halting him in his path. “Don’t take too long to decide,” she murmured. “The longer the jump, the more dangerous it becomes.”

She didn’t elaborate, and Domerin didn’t press. He slunk through the door and threw himself onto the bed. Though before oblivion claimed him entirely, he waved to one of the nearby guards and said, “Fetch Greg. I’ll need to talk to him when I wake up.”

*   *   *

Greg paced in a tight circle while he waited at the base of the tower stairs. He didn’t question that their ruler had secrets, or even that one was stashed so close to the capital city. He understood the necessity of keeping certain things quiet and hidden, especially under circumstances such as these.

What he didn’t understand was why he was here. Why had Domerin summoned him to a secret government facility – the one that was evidently to house the queen during this time of crisis? What could he contribute to the situation that the rest of the Royal Guard couldn’t cover?

He felt strongly that he should be helping the evacuees. Most had begun the long journey to their destinations. Those ponies tasked with keeping the peace and providing medical care during emergencies had tried to go ahead so that they could set up another set of information outposts and begin the difficult task of tending those wounded on the journey as well as finding housing for those that wouldn’t have any.

The sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving many of the ponies of Silvergarden to travel by night. It was a cold, lonely road most of them walked, even if they walked it with other people, and Greg wanted to be on one of those routes doing his best to assist.

He had a family, after all. And while he was grateful they had all escaped Silvergarden and survived the day’s ordeal, he worried about what would come of them. His wife’s mother would gladly house them for as long as proved necessary, but Greg had no idea how long her home would remain safe. He felt he should be transforming it into a fortress this very moment, though he had no idea how long it would hold against whatever was coming.

The soft creak of a door opening interrupted his thoughts, and Greg snapped to attention as a pony in a Royal Guard uniform descended the stairs. He was expecting to be beckoned upward, into the princess’s chamber. Instead, he caught a glimpse of dark fur and midnight mane.

Domerin offered him a rough, awkward smile as he descended the last few stairs and kicked open the door in front of which Greg had been pacing.

“Walk with me,” he said solemnly and slipped through the door without waiting for a response.

Greg hesitated, but only for a moment. He wanted to know what was going on, but he trusted his friend wouldn’t lead him astray. He pulled the door closed in his wake and wound down the hill in the Royal Guard captain’s wake, keeping close enough that he wouldn’t lose track of the safe path.

The night air was chill. Here in the forest, where the sun didn’t shine as freely as it did back in the city, the air didn’t long hold the heat of the day. Branches swayed in the breeze, creating a gentle sound that reminded Greg how exhausted he was.

He hadn’t taken the time to rest just yet. He’d been expecting to gallop through the night to catch up with his family, but now he thought he might need to beg accommodations of the princess for the night.

Domerin led Greg away from the base of the hill that housed the hidden tower and into the deep shadows beneath the trees that grew close to the ascending path.

Greg said nothing as he followed in his wake; he knew his friend would speak when he was ready.

For several minutes, Domerin adopted a meandering path through the forest, until he found a place where a thin beam of moonlight broke through the branches overhead. There he stopped and tilted his chin upward so that his horn glinted in the silver light.

“If someone offered you a chance to undo everything that happened today,” the captain of the Royal Guard said in a low, rough rasp, “what would you do?”

Greg swallowed hard. The question felt a lot less hypothetical than it should have been given Domerin’s tone.

“You mean time travel?” he retorted bluntly. “Go back and re-live the day? Take a different path? Make different choices?”

Domerin twisted his head over his shoulder. His expression looked wretched in the moonlight, painted with broad strokes of agony across his muzzle – though it might have just been the depths of the shadows contrasted with the thin beam of light beneath which he stood. He nodded once.

“It’s staggering, isn’t it?” he murmured as he turned his gaze back toward the sky. “The things that could go wrong-“

“It’s an impressive list,” Greg agreed softly. But after a moment he said, “It still might be worth it though.”

Domerin turned sharply and narrowed his eyes in his best friend’s direction. “You’re the last person I expected to say that,” he admitted, and the urgency of his tone demanded Greg explain.

The constable lowered his head for a moment and sighed. He pawed the ground nervously, until he created a deep, hoof-shaped gash in the soft earth at his feet. Then he lifted his chin and joined Domerin in the moonbeam.

“You remember I told you about those three girls we rescued on our way out of the city?”

Domerin nodded both to show that he remembered and to encourage his friend to go on.

Greg sighed again. “Well, I encountered them at one of the checkpoints. They were trying to make sure they all went on together to their next place, though from the sound of it they didn’t really have anywhere they expected to be able to stay. One of them, the one who kicked her way out of the rubble, seemed pretty steady. She was helping the other two keep it together. But that pair… they were pretty broken up.”

Greg’s heart twisted just thinking about it.

“I won’t go into the details about how they cried. That isn’t really the important thing,” Greg continued after a moment to regain his composure. “The fact is, even if we’re able to repel the attackers from Silvergarden and reclaim the capital without too much fuss, they did a lot of damage to make their way into the castle without being waylaid. The house those girls were living in collapsed. They lost everything. And there were plenty of other buildings burned down in full or in part by the trail of destruction those raiders left in their wake.

“Things can be rebuilt, I know. But that’s a lot of lives left in chaos even if the majority of the population get to go back reclaim the way things used to be. The echoes of this day are going to last a long time – for some people forever. And that’s not even considering the wounded or the dead.”

Greg didn’t know for certain, but he imagined there had been casualties among the Royal Guard. He didn’t even know if his friend had a chance to process any of that yet. Had there been time for a head count? Or was everyone still focused on making sure the remains of the kingdom could function for the duration of this conflict?

Greg hadn’t been trying to twist the knife of guilt in his companion’s gut with this revelation. It wasn’t even the worst of the stories he could tell. He had encountered plenty of other ponies on the road out of Silvergarden with troubles too big to manage.

But he felt he had to convey the impact of the day’s events as starkly as possible so that Domerin could make an informed decision.

At length, the Royal Guard’s captain released a frustration sound that ended as a tormented wail. He crossed the small clearing, exited the beam of moonlight, and scratched his horn across a nearby tree trunk, leaving a deep gouge in its wake.

“This is too much,” he moaned when he finally took a step back.

He didn’t clarify if it was too much responsibility for one person, or if the consequences of a jump through time were too much to contemplate. Probably there were a lot of things that fit that description, and Greg didn’t doubt Domerin had considered all of them.

“Do what you think is right,” he said softly and laid a hoof against his best friend’s shoulder for a moment. “I don’t think I have to tell you that I trust you to make that decision. Because I know that when I say do what’s right, you’re going to consider what’s right for all of us, not just a few.”

That was simply Domerin’s nature. It was how he’d gained his position at the head of the royal guard, and it was no doubt why their princess trusted him to handle this task.

But it wasn’t a position Greg envied. The reality of the duties Domerin was juggling right now were enormous, and Greg didn’t think he’d be able to shoulder the burden for very long.

“Thank you,” Domerin murmured after a moment. He turned to offer the constable a thin smile. “I knew talking to you would help me sort things out. But also, I’m sorry,” he added and winced slightly. “Because now I need to ask you a huge favor.”

“Anything,” Greg replied without hesitation. “Just name it.”

Domerin sighed then said, “I need you to promise me you’ll team up with Valia and Rilan to watch over the princess while I’m gone. With luck, I suppose it’ll end up being something you never remember. But since I’m not sure how long this will actually take…” The warrior shrugged helplessly.

“Leave it to me,” Greg replied without hesitation. “I’ll see that it’s done.” Whether he ultimately ended up remembering it or not.

*   *   *

It seemed as if the tower had grown twice as many stairs during the time Domerin spent talking to Greg. The Royal Guard captain’s legs felt heavy and leaden as he lifted them one after the other to drag his body back to the top of the tower.

He had misgivings – multitudes of them.

But in the end, there was really only one answer he could give.

The guards outside the princess’s door snapped to attention when he approached, and one of them opened the door. Domerin slid through it without comment and waited for it to close in his wake.

Now that he wasn’t limp with exhaustion, he took a moment to survey the tower space. Most of this floor was dominated by a large, circular room adorned with a comfortable red and gold rug and furnished with plush couches and chairs. High tables held various contraptions and deep shelves held books, scrolls and knickknacks. The doors he knew led to bed chambers, but there were also stairs leading up and down to other portions of the tower.

One of them led to the dread machine his princess had built to protect her realm.

He tried to erase all sign of emotion from his face when the princess turned to greet him. But he could tell from the look that passed across her face before she schooled her expression, she knew what he was going to say.

A dark shadow hung over him that had nothing to do with the depth of night. He was too practical and realistic a pony to believe this situation wasn’t going to bite him in the ass a multitude of times before it was all over.

Yet he drew a deep breath and released it slowly. He sensed that he had reached one of those moments that contained a precipice – and the time had come to leap into the darkness that waited at its base before all hope of salvaging the future evaporated on the breeze.

“I’ll do it,” he said softly. “But on one condition,” he added, rushing on before the princess had a chance to speak. “I want to take Crescent with me.”