Freebie Mondays: My Little Domerin – Episode 2: Act 2

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!
. . .

Rumor had it the hills at the base of the Griffinstone mountains were a difficult region to live. With rocks choking the landscape and harsh winds raking down from the high cliffs, not much grew, and that which did required a great deal of maintenance to bear fruit.

The people who lived in that region were as tough as the conditions in which they were raised. They had a reputation for thick skins, threadbare clothing and a level of tenacity that couldn’t be matched.

Domerin glimpsed all of the telltale signs of his opponents’ origins as he raced toward them and quietly filed them in the back of his mind for later. At the moment, he could do little more with the information than confirm his guess as to the identity of the invaders. But when there was time for him to really delve into the details, he was going to want to know how the clans had been unified.

Usually the hill folk didn’t trust each other enough to do more than annoy the villages set along Aruvalia’s border. Usually a stiff wind and a strong arm was enough to turn them back to their homesteads where they would mutter and curse but become largely harmless.

Domerin did not assume that because his opponents came from simple origins without the formal training provided to him and his troops that they would be pushovers. Hill folk had a reputation for their combat prowess. They didn’t need drill sergeants and combat instructors to gain their finesse either – they earned it the hard way, with backbreaking labor and constant defense of their home from the creatures that lived in the mountains and forests surrounding their homes.

Thus it was no surprise to the captain of the Royal Guard when the sword he swung with the full might of his telepathic powers came to a sudden and screeching halt against the steel wielded by a large, muscular unicorn with matted brown fur and mottled, sun-bleached hair.

Like Domerin, the defender hunched his back and lowered his shoulders, pawing at the ground with one of his front hooves. He was quickly flanked by an earth pony with heavy armor strapped to her muscular figure and colt who couldn’t be more than ten summers old.

The colt darted forward and to the side, clearly hoping to flank Domerin, but he stole his sword back from the hold it was captured in and swung wide, causing the colt to dive to the side.

That gave the earth pony enough time to growl and surge forward, placing herself between the muscular unicorn and the captain of the Royal Guard. But Domerin had a second sword tucked into a second sheath at his other hip, and he was quick to pull it free of its mooring.

It was his particular specialty that he had trained to control two weapons at once. It required an intense level of focus that even most combat-honed unicorns couldn’t match, but it had served him well every time he faced a real battle outside an exhibition or competition.

Indeed, the earth pony’s rush hesitated when she saw a sword flying in her direction. Her companion quickly jolted his blade to the side to intercept, but that gave Domerin’s original sword a clear path to strike at his original opponent.

The hill ponies scattered, most of them diving for cover, leaving only the unicorn and the armored earth pony in his path.

Domerin was careful not to lose sight of his surroundings. He knew the speedy colt was still somewhere close by and doubted the kid would hesitate to take a run at him if they saw an opening. He also noted that the stone tosser picked another rock from among the debris and tossed it in the air to test its weight.

It would be easy to lean so deeply into the magic that controlled his weapons, that he forgot about everything else, but it would quickly have proven to be folly. The stone-tosser lobbed their new rock at his head, and it was only his keen observations that let him duck under it without losing control of his blades.

His swords danced a deadly dance, swooping and gliding through the air as they crossed with the blade controlled by the unicorn. It was clear his opponent had a great deal of skill; he always knew exactly how to counter Domerin’s thrusts, and he was speedy enough to parry both of Domerin’s blades most of the time.

But the captain of the Royal Guard did score a hit against the left rear leg of the armored earth pony, causing her to huddle closer to her companion for protection. And at least once, one of his swords darted through the unicorn’s guard enough to knick one of his shoulders.

That was when the colt took a run at him. If not for the small cry of dismay that escaped their throat before the charge, Domerin might not even have noticed until it was too late.

With both his swords still engaged with the enemy, he was forced to sweep a hoof forward and knock the colt aside – though he tried not to put all of his weight into the blow.

He didn’t want to hurt a child, even if they currently had hostile intent toward him.

He was holding his own, and he was proud of it. He was certainly proving why he’d been granted this position. But he could feel the weight of the vial he’d retrieved from the princess’s quarters strapped to his flank, and he knew he didn’t dare level this an even match.

He was getting tired. The impressive display of wielding two swords at once took a toll on his mental capacity. And the stone-tosser quickly lobbed a fresh series of debris in his direction, forcing him to add physical exertion to his growing fatigue.

He needed to find a way out of this mess or he was going to fail his mission. And while he could make peace with dying, especially at the hands of a competent foe, he couldn’t abide by failing his princess.

The unicorn knocked one of his swords aside, and it almost slipped from Domerin’s mental grip. The small lapse gave the earth pony a chance to charge. Domerin cursed under his breath and shuffled backward and to the side, just barely avoiding the impact of her head and shoulders. But she was right next to him now, and the unicorn was battering both of his blades to keep him from redirecting one.

Domerin quickly spun, ready to kick with both back legs. But before he had a chance, a sharp shout drew his gaze in the direction of the guard barracks and half a dozen arrows filled the sky.

One landed only a few inches from the earth pony’s front feet. Her eyes widened as she realized how close she’d come to being skewered, and she quickly backed away. Two more arrows bounced off her thick armor, but one slid through a joint to pierce her back knee. She whinnied in distress as she retreated.

Domerin completed his spin and kicked with his back legs. The action was instinctual and came just in time to once again force the colt out of his path – and this time also out of the path of the next set of arrows.

The efforts of the archers gave Domerin enough time to glance over his shoulder and identify his rescuer.

It was Rilan. And as Domerin panted to catch his breath, his good friend bellowed a fresh round of orders.

Warriors rushed into the fray with weapons drawn. Maces and hammers joined Domerin’s sword in its deadly dance as armored figures pressed close to Domerin’s side to protect him from the next round of debris lobbed in his direction.

The captain’s heart soared as his fortunes shifted. He was under no delusion they could drive all of the invaders from the castle grounds and retake their home. But he no longer believed he would fall in his efforts to escape this courtyard.

“With me,” Domerin told the warriors pressed close against his side. Then he lowered his head and charged again.

At the same time, Rilan ordered the release of another volley of arrows.

That did it; their opponents broke and ran. This time, they didn’t dive behind cover, they skittered into the shadows and behind the walls, shouting for assistance.

Domerin quickly skidded to a halt and swished his tail as he ordered his warriors to abandon the charge.

“We need to get out of here,” he declared as Rilan surged forward, bringing the rest of his battle group into a tight knot with Domerin’s protectors.

“The barracks was overrun,” Rilan agreed. “But something told me when you never reached it that another matter occupied your attention.”

“The princess has been safely evacuated,” Domerin reported. “Crescent is with her,” he added to reassure the rest of his companions she wasn’t without protection. “But she needed me to retrieve something.”

“Most of our easiest escape routes are going to be cut off,” Rilan muttered and shook his head. “I’m guessing the most concealed tunnels are cut off by enemy patrols or collapses, and I don’t fancy our chances if we try to flee in the open.”

“Sir,” one of the guards that had joined Domerin’s charge murmured, and her cheeks flushed bright pink the second he turned to her. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn,” she added sheepishly. “But there is one option that won’t have been compromised. The old service tunnel, the one they used to use during Winter Wrapup-“

“The one we boarded up because they built a new development at the base of the hill,” Domerin finished for her, his voice filled with triumph. “Yes, excellent thinking! We’ll use that.”

He turned to Rilan and found a glimmer of hopeful triumph in his friend’s eyes as well as he nodded vigorously. “You take the lead,” he suggested. “I’ll protect your six.”

“Fine,” Domerin agreed after a moment. Usually he would have insisted on switching places, but his precious cargo demanded he accept his friend’s offer. “Everyone stay close,” he added. “We don’t have time for stealth anymore.”

A final round of nods accompanied the order, then Domerin took off like a shot toward the side of the courtyard that would lead to their escape tunnel.

He shot one last glance over his shoulder toward the statue as he left, but he didn’t have time to assess whether or not it had been damaged during the fray.

*   *   *

“I think it’s coming from over here,” Valia announced in a loud hiss as she jabbed her horn toward a wall of solid wooden planks at the base of a steep rise.

Greg kept his nose low to the ground as they finished their approach. They had crept the last stretch separating them from the loud thuds while trying to minimize the amount of noise they made during the passage. But now he wanted to be ready to leap or kick at a moment’s notice – especially since he didn’t think they were dealing with another set of trapped townsfolk.

“These streets are pretty deserted,” he murmured as he scanned the near vicinity for any sign of trouble they might have missed. “I think most of the area has been evacuated by now.” Which meant they should quickly follow and report at the city gate checkpoint. Otherwise they risked being caught in whatever trouble had consumed the palace.

“You don’t think the invaders are attempting to make their way down here,” Valia countered. But after a brief pause and a nervous glance toward the source of the sound, she added, “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” Greg admitted. “But I don’t want to be caught on the wrong side of a sword blade.”

Yet he hesitated to turn tail and sprint. He had one of those odd gut feelings again, like the one that had drawn him to the house where they saved the girls – and the one that had plagued Domerin the day before when they spoke in the afternoon.

If he turned away from this odd circumstance, he would regret it later. He didn’t yet know why, but he had long since learned not to ignore these instincts.

Without a word or a motion to Valia, he crept forward and pressed his ear to the section of wall they were fairly sure the sounds were coming from. Now that he surveyed the construction up close, he was fairly sure these were old service tunnels – the kind that were used to move big equipment or lingering aspects of weather back and forth between the city of Silvergarden and the palace perched up on the hill near its center.

In fact, the construction was relatively recent. And once he didn’t view it from afar, it was obvious the fresh coat of paint hid some rather shoddy workmanship.

Also, now that his ear was pressed fairly close to the wood, he could hear voices muttering on the other side.

“One more time,” a familiar voice grunted. “Everyone put your backs into it! One, two, three-“

Slam!

Greg leapt backward, half-convinced the boards were about to buckle. But there must have been two layers. He heard a sharp crack followed by an exasperated sigh, but he no longer needed to wonder about what was happening on the other side of the barrier.

“Valia!” he called as he trotted backward. “Break through the wall here!” he jabbed a hoof at the place he’d just been leaning against. “And hurry!”

It was the kind of order that definitely bore explanation. Especially since their last exchange detailed the possibility invaders were about to sweep through the town from a secret tunnel connecting with the palace.

But to her credit, Valia didn’t hesitate. She summoned a sharp blast of wind that battered the rickety boards and crushed them inward.

Moments later another kick connected with the far side of the boards and they splintered outward, opening the path to the shaded tunnel beyond.

Despite his certainty, Greg tensed. He lowered his neck and gathered all the force he could muster, storing it in his back legs for the kick of a lifetime should something unexpected tumble out of the tunnel.

But it was familiar armor and uniforms that shuffled into the light as a tight knot of ponies huddled together, heads resting on shoulders as they panted to catch their breath. The familiar figure of Rilan Moore appeared next, and he kicked several lingering pieces of wood out of the path of the final figure to emerge from the tunnel.

This was the speaker Greg had identified, and his heart leapt into his throat the second he identified Domerin Lorcasf, the captain of the Royal Guard. He was covered in dust and debris, and he halted at Rilan’s side to shake some of it free of his tail and mane before he realized he was being observed.

The second he spotted nearby figures, Domerin tensed and a bright glow exploded around his horn, but Greg quickly rose from his crouch and darted forward, hoping that would make him easier to identify.

“Stand down!” he called tentatively even as the rest of the guards unfurled from their tight knot to prepare for battle.

“Greg!” Domerin breathed and let the magic fade from his horn. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he added as he breathed a soft sigh of relief and crossed the last of the distance between them. “What’s the status of the city?”

“Mostly evacuated,” Valia supplied as she trotted forward to join the group.

“Valia and I were just helping the last few citizens trapped by the destruction when we heard your approach,” Greg explained. He hesitated a moment then added, “The palace?”

Domerin shook his head, and that was all the answer they needed. “But the princess has been evacuated,” he added, restoring the warmth of hope to Greg’s chest. “I need to get to her, as a matter of fact. Do you know if we have a clear path to the city gates?”

“We should,” Greg replied even as he turned and motioned for the guards to follow him. This was his territory, after all, and he knew it like the bases of his hooves. If anyone could lead them on the fastest route to safety, it was him.

Domerin didn’t object to Greg taking the lead. In fact, he nudged his people into formation and fell into step at the constable’s side.

Greg took advantage of his friend’s proximity to more closely note the state of him. He looked scratched and bruised, but it was hard to tell if those injuries had come from combat or from the destruction he had no doubt had to navigate in order to evacuate the princess and escape in one piece.

It was clear the entire troop of guard had been engaged with the enemy at some point. Many bore scratches on their armor, some were cut and bleeding and all looked tired – especially Domerin.

But the captain of the Royal Guard also seemed none the worse for wear. He had a series of tattered sheets tied around his flank, securing a wooden box against his side. And aside from the dust still caked to his hair, a few cuts were beginning to cake with dried blood. Still, he looked determined, and he marched with confidence of purpose.

Greg wanted to ask what had happened, how the palace had been overrun and what they were going to do about it. But he knew now wasn’t the time.

For the moment, his focus needed to be on street markers and shortcuts he knew so well he could navigate them blindfolded. With Valia’s help, he led the guard troop on a winding path through side streets and under familiar bridges and overpasses until they arrived at the nearly abandoned gate checkpoint.

There a pair of police officers waited in the shadows of an information center. They emerged with speed when they saw their leader arriving and hailed the guards as well.

Having identified themselves as friends instead of foes, they offered a brisk report about the state of the evacuation, and redirected the new arrivals to the tail end of the trail of ponies still streaming away from the burning city.

No matter how sudden and rushed this operation had been, it had obviously been handled well. The royal guard had mixed with the city’s police force to herd those displaced from their homes toward information outposts. There each pony could verify they had escaped safely and be directed to their next stop.

It seemed, for the moment, the population was being direct toward family members that lived in remoter portions of the kingdom. Those that didn’t have such havens to run to were being directed toward smaller towns and cities currently on alert and considered safe.

It was all likely to be half measures for now, stopgaps to make sure everyone was safe and cared for until the bigger issue could be managed.

But that was more Domerin’s territory than Greg’s. Once he delivered the Royal Guard to their fellows, his task was considered finished. He would have simply melted into the crowd to start assisting with the next stage of the evacuation, if a guard hadn’t melted out of the throng and shouldered her way to Domerin’s side, panting with the urgency of her task.

“Slow down,” Domerin ordered gently, and lightly placed his muzzle against her shoulder while she struggled to regain her breath.

The guard pawed the ground for a moment, displeased with her own lack of discipline. But after a few hastily drawn breaths, she glanced up and said, “I’m sorry, sir, but you’re needed urgently. Crescent has been looking for you, and we all promised we’d deliver you as soon as we could find you.”

Domerin’s entire body tensed for a second, then he nodded.

“Thank you for your assistance,” he said as he turned toward Greg and Valia.

“It was nothing,” Greg insisted, then motioned for his friend to hurry and go.

“I’ll find you as soon as there’s news,” the captain promised. Then he motioned for Rilan to accompany him as he took off in the new arrival’s wake.

The crowd swallowed them within seconds, but Greg stared for an extra moment at the place where they disappeared.

Then he sighed, turned and approached one of his officers to gain the briefing he needed to assist with the next stage of evacuation.

*   *   *

Domerin felt a distinct sense of relief knowing Crescent had survived the morning’s ordeal unscathed. His partner wouldn’t be looking for him if he was severely injured, and that reassured him the worst scenarios his mind could summon had failed to come to pass.

Yet his heart pounded with anxiety in his chest as he picked his way through the crowd in the wake of the guard that fetched him. Crescent might be okay, but if he was looking for Domerin, that might mean something else had gone wrong. He had, after all, asked his partner to keep an eye on the princess in his absence. If Crescent had left her side, it might mean she was in danger – or worse.

It was hard not to concoct nightmare scenarios as he moved ever closer to the unexpected rendezvous. His plan had been to circle the outside of the city, check on the evacuation efforts then make his way to the designated secret meeting place where Crescent and his charge should have waited to receive him. Only long years of discipline allowed Domerin to remind himself that there was no point wasting time on what-ifs. It was better to withhold judgment until he knew exactly what was happening.

Though that didn’t stop him from concocting a few plans en route to his destination.

Despite Crescent’s search, he was not among the evacuees, nor had he set up at any of the information stations hastily erected beyond the city gates. He was, instead, waiting on the edge of a clump of forest situated on a high rise a short distance away from the city – halfway to the place where Domerin had expected to meet him.

Relief once again suffused Domerin as he stepped beneath the dappled shade of the trees and surveyed the state of his partner. Unlike himself and most of the rest of his troops, Crescent show no signs of wear or injury. He might have received a few scrapes and bruises during his harrowing flight, but none were obvious. Nor did he move in a way that suggested tenderness of limb, though he was clearly fatigued. Worry had a way of doing that even when injury was held at bay.

“You’re alive!” the earth pony exclaimed as soon as he laid his eyes on Domerin.

Without further comment, the two ponies ran to each other. Crescent set his head beneath Domerin’s, and Domerin leaned down to nuzzle him lightly. He even lifted a front hoof and wound it around Crescent’s body to draw him closer.

For a moment, they simply shared each other’s proximity. Domerin closed his eyes and felt his heart beat in tune with his partner’s. He drank in the reassuring scent and warmth of his lover and allowed it to soothe the part of him that had ached and strained all morning for fear he would never experience another moment like this.

It was with some reluctance he stepped back and fixed his partner with a stern look. “The princess-” he started, but Crescent cut him off.

“She’s safe,” he reassured, and Domerin breathed a soft sigh of relief. “You’ll be proud of how your people conducted themselves, my love. They followed your orders to the letter. The princess doesn’t have a scratch on her and barely a hint of dust or debris from our passage.

“But she’s eager to see you,” he added and his eyes turned dark. “That’s why I’m out here. This thing she wanted you to retrieve-“

“I have it.” It was Domerin’s turn to interrupt. He shifted sideways and wriggled his rump to show where the box was still tied securely to his flank.

“Good,” Crescent breathed his sigh of relief. “Rose has been half-frantic over the idea that you or it might not make it free of the carnage. I don’t know what’s going on or how any of this was able to happen, but whatever’s in that vial… She seems to think it’s the key to putting our lives back together.”

“Then let’s go talk to her and find out what we need to do next,” Domerin suggested.

It wasn’t what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was retreat to his familiar and comfortable bed with his partner at his side. He wanted to throw off the rigors of the day and relax in the gentle comfort of the company he treasured most.

But in all likelihood, their shared quarters were in ruins. Even if they weren’t, they were surrounded by hostile forces and likely to be ransacked at any moment.

That quiet life didn’t exist at the moment. And there was a lot to do before he could start sorting it out and putting it back together.

So I’d better get started, he asserted silently.

He cast one last glance over his shoulder toward the smoke rising from the city, then he lowered his head and followed resolutely in Crescent’s wake as the foliage of the forest swallowed them both.