Title:           Elements of Disharmony part 11
Author:          Commander_Xillian
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/SDjGuRQe
First Edit:      Monday 30th of April 2012 01:34:16 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Monday 30th of April 2012 01:34:16 AM CDT

From unhallowed graves,
housing stillborn babes,
I hear a horrifying beat,
For solice I entreat,
My masters deaf ears
Ignore my growing fears.
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
 
>Your breathing begins to slow as you slowly regain your senses.
>Damn that Lich.
>Tzeentch take his hateful soul.
>He was more powerful than you had expected, his warpless sorcery allowing him far more endurance.
>His spells matched you, and in some cases it took a degree of split-second trickery to evade his more powerful attacks.
>And then there was his last-ditch bolt of black lightning.
>Damn that Lich.
>You wracked your mind, your memory, anything.
>In a single blow, he did what it took a sea of Daemons to do.
>He had not just attacked your body, but your mind.
>He stripped your mind of precious memories.
>You couldn’t even remember Ditzy’s face now.
>Every muscle ached from the strain, and you felt weak.
>You rip your helmet off, and let it clank against the stone floor.
>You look at the pile of bones and the slowly melting robes that cover it.
>How such a hateful creature could ever exist, you were unsure, what documents you had read were only sparring in information.
>Atleast it was now dead, of that much you were certain.
>The weak grip it held was gone, torn from this world by your blade.
>You rise from you knees, and mag-clamp your sword to your Gen-Pack, returning your Bolter to its mag-holster on your thigh.
>You begin to stumble back towards the study of the tower.
>As you stumble down the steps, you catch sight of a sleepy Shermanator slowly exiting his room, casting odd glances at you.
>”Wow, you look like crap Sorc. What happened?”
>You crack you neck, returning your helmet to its place on your head.
“I had a dispute with the Lich.”
 
>Shermanator whistles
>”Well now, good to see you’re alright. He’s not exactly the first person I’d want to get on the bad side of.”
>You shrug
“I’ve fought down tougher.”
>Sherm nods, and falls into step next to you.
>”So, he gonna be joining us for the Picnic today? Or is he going to be nursing a bruised ego?”
>You chuckle
“That scum won’t be joining us at all. I’ve disposed of that conniving Abomination.”
>Shermanator comes to a stop behind you.
>”Wait, you mean you… You killed him?”
>You look over your shoulder, taking a few steps down the stairs to the study.
“Yes, I uncovered his lies, and when I confro-“
>Your words are cut off first by the incredulous idea of this human trying to punch you, as he flies up into your face.
>Then your helmet shatters as you feel his knuckles slam into your nose, sending you flying down the staircase.
>Your head slams into the hard stone, a ton and a half of ceramite and muscle put on your delicate neck.
>Thankfully, your pack took the most of the force, and you come to a grinding stop, blood gushing from your broken nose, shocked that such a small man could pack a punch powerful enough to turn your helmet into little more than shards in your skin.
>You shake your head, getting the blood out of your eyes, and look up in time to see a crackling energy field around his right fist.
>And his bracer was glowing, the gemstone throbbing.
>Your sword began to vibrate, much like it did in the fight with the Lich.
>His Element was a Tzeetch-cursed Power Fist.
>You reach up for your sword, but are too slow, already a rabid and angry Shermanator is on your chest, fist raised high.
 
>You grunt in pain as another hook is slammed into your face, and you can see blood and teeth fly from your mouth.
>His fists wrap around your head and force you to look in his eyes.
>”Do you know just how bad you fucked up, son?”
>He is practically snarling in anger right now.
>”He may have been manipulative, he might not have been forthcoming, but that Chronicler, that Lich? Yeah, he was on our team.”
>You glare back up at this idiot.
“He wasn’t even honest about our reason for being here!”
>Shermanator holds his gauntlet up to your face
>”You see this? This used to be an Element of Harmony. Then, something fucked with it.”
”And who told you this?”
>Shermanator pauses, but you can tell you’ve not even scratched the pain on his fury.
>”There is something on this world that has the ability to alter these Elements. How else would they react to us as they do if they weren’t the real ones?”
>You still weren’t sold, that Lich was impossibly crafty.
>In some cases, it put to shame some of the most devious and cunning Sorcerers you knew.
“And what, exactly, would be able to do that?”
>You hope the answer isn’t what you’re expecting.
>You hope he says he doesn’t know.
>”Discord.”
>You blanch a little.
>Discord, on this world as well, and now you were trapped here.
>Worse yet, it would seem that the Elements of Harmony were… Broken.
>This was not good, even remotely.
>”Now, we can sit here and keep this hockey up, or we can try and work together, and maybe, MAYBE, we can do this without Chronicler.”
>You nod.
>You liked Shermanator, simply as he was, he was honest and blunt.
”Alright. I’ll help you see this through.”
 
>Besides, if you didn’t, you’d likely never see home again.
>You’re not sure what hurt more, not remembering Ditzy’s face, or some of your memories with her, or knowing that you had lost them.
>You shake your head, keeping your emotions in check.
“Get off me, I need to reset my nose.”
>With a sheepish grin, Shermanator gets off of you, and you grunt from the pain of resetting the cartilage in your nose.
>”So, c’mon. We have to introduce ourselves to the Ponies here.”
>You shake your head.
”Without the Lich, I’ll need to do a lot of research inorder to find out how to move us across time and space.”
>You look over at Shermanator from your sitting position, almost eye-level.
“What’s worse, I’m not even sure I can properly replicate his manner of magic.”
>Shermanator looks at you sideways.
>”I thought all magic was the same.”
>You chuckle, and rub your sore neck.
>Damn he could through a punch.
”Not so. Unicorn and my magic is based on the Warp, a realm of emotions. What the Lich does…”
>You pause.
>You read his books, detailed manuscripts detailing exact processes, words of power, and ‘Mana’.
>And it was absolutely nothing like what you knew.
>It required a deep bond with the land, and a large amount of study.
>And it was unnerving to no end.
“… What the Lich does is practically impossible. He doesn’t use the Warp, and none of his spells respond to the Warp.”
>Shermanator leans back and looks at his feet.
>”Huh. Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then?”
>You nod.
”It would seem so.”
>With a grunt, he begins walking down stairs.
>”I’ll see you later today. Keep safe, alright? I’m gonna go talk with the people around here.”
 
>You nod, already moving to the scroll rack.
>You open it, but pause.
>Slowly, you return to the table, and examine your feet.
>You look ahead, at the vacant throne, and lean forwards, putting your hands on the table.
>Looking down, you keep a finger on the book your hand rests on, and sit down in the throne.
>You gently lift up the cover, and look at the name.
“Master’s Guide to the Manipulation of  Interplanar Travel.”
>Well now, looks like that devious bastard of a Lich would be of some use after all.
>You put your eyes on where your finger was.
“In order to fully prevent Etherial bleed, Systentic sigils must be…”
>What in the Warp was this jargon?
>You look around, and make yourself comfortable.
>You were going to be here for a whi-
>”Yo, bones! Ya home?”
>Your head perks up as there is a flash infront of you, a young man in his teens standing before you.
>You contain your surprise at this development.
”I must apologize that this ‘Bones’ is not present.”
>You make to go back to your book, when the teen turns to face you.
>And you realize he’s missing most of his face.
>”Eh, no problem, I’m sure he’ll be back later.”
>The angle, plus the freshness of what remained, gave the illusion of a healthy human teenager.
>Your hand flies to your bolter and it’s up in a flash.
“Explain yourself, Abomination.”
>He quirks his remaining eyebrow, before chortling.
>”Aaah, put that away, we’re all good here. So, you’re one of those guys Skeletor was looking for?”
>The undead creature puts it’s face against your Bolter, ignoring it.
>”Oh, the advanced stuff huh? Yeah, never could figure this out. Skeletor said it took him a couple centuries to account for a lack of a Spark.”
 
>What a bewitching creature, it didn’t even bother acknowledging you were about to blow its head off.
>However, this thing knew a pointer or two on what you were looking at.
>You return your bolter, still eyeing this… You assume it was also a Lich, oddly.
“You are intimately familiar with this form of spellcraft?”
>He scoffs
>”Well, no, I mean well… Yeah, there was that one time, but yeesh, that was Bones being an ass.”
>You shake your head, trying not to think about what he just said.
“Do you know these spells?”
>He looks at you, incredulous
>”Are you kidding me? I’ve been studying under Skeletor here for a few months now! Don’t know how to do some of the crazier stuff, but I can teleport and cast a few special spells.”
>You didn’t expect the Lich to have a student.
“So, that would make you his…?”
>You wave your hand, asking for him to finish.
>”Hm, me? Oh, I’m his apprentice. Got my soul stuffed in an iPod, been a Lich ever sense.”
>He pauses, trying to frown.
>”I don’t think he appreciates my full talents, really.”
>You try not to cringe.
>This young Lich hardly had an academic air to him, you could easily and readily see him getting on Chroniclers nerves.
>You were thankful, atleast, Trixie was marginally competent.
“Well, any assistance you can give me would be appreciated. I’m not well-read on this form of… magic.”
>He nods, before moving off to a shelf.
>”Well, first things first, lemmy get the Beginners manual to Teleportation. It’s rough, but-“
>You cut him off
“I’m not looking to learn this form of magic. I simply want to study this spell he was researching.”
>You forcefully jab your finger at the page.
 
>After a few moments, the younger Lich nods in understanding.
>”Alrighty. Tell ya what, you keep doing that, I’ll go see if I can’t get Twilight to come help out.”
>You nod.
“Good, be quick.”
>With a lazy mock-salute, he poofs in a flash of light and perfume.
>Wait, what?
>You sniff the air.
>It smelled like flowers in a bright summer field.
>Oddly specific.
>You begin your work once again, looking for the components and necessary tools.
>Tzeentch willing, you might just be able to pull this off.
>Hours flew past as you studied and checked the detailed ritual.
>It would require insane amounts of energy in the form of this ‘Mana’.
>To be frank, you were completely aghast at this whole thing.
>The sheer level of amiability, it could do things not even the greatest Warp Sorcerer could achieve.
>And with such ease, it looked!
>Time manipulation, annihilating entire fields of battle with only a mild vestment of energy, the list went on and on.
>And you were horrified by it.
>This was completely alien to you, more so than the Necron Techno-sorcery.
>This called upon a realm of knowledge that you weren’t sure even existed in your world.
>Was this completely  unique to this realm?
>No, it couldn’t be.
>You still felt the warp here.
>And that Lich, he could still…
>You stop your thoughts there.
>He moved out of empty shadows, literally materializing out of them.
>This was a universal thing, not just a limited fluke.
>You still held power in this world.
>He, it would seem, had his own tricks as well.
>You push yourself away from the table, and look at yourself, hard.
>What in the Warp were you doing?
 
>This was a realm of magic and knowledge you knew nothing about.
>It was amazing in and of its self you could improve a spell as you did.
>And all it took was thinking of Prospero, and it’s…
>Your eyes go blank, gaining a thousand yard stare.
>Why couldn’t you remember anything about Prospero?
>Why was it the only thoughts relating to it, was its name, and it being the reason for your hatred of the Space Wolves?
>Like a wall, it hits you.
>You know exactly why.
>With a scream of rage, you toss the books from the table.
>This blasphemous text, the cause of your greatest sorrows.
>That Lich, with his vile magic that defied everything you knew, stripped your mind of your two most closely guarded memories.
>He tore from you Ditzies face, the moments you had, which drove you onwards.
>He stripped from you all of your memories of Prospero, of its sands and cities, the great spires of light and learning.
>With a bellow of pure hate and rage, black flames leap from your outstretched palm and incinerate the books and scrolls on the table.
>You scream out in anger at the fate you have been given.
>You unleash so much pent up, well restrained hate, that when you finally come to your senses, having vented, only then does what you’ve done come to light.
>You sink to your knees, tears rolling down your cheeks.
>You have destroyed the Library, incinerating nearly everything within.
>You have destroyed a great repository of knowledge that was irreplaceable.
>You have destroyed your only way back home to Ditzy.