//------------------------------// // Chapter 1 // Story: The Chronicles of Dark Star: A Blade of Redemption // by D4ftP0ny //------------------------------// The night was clear and crisp, one of the lovely nights late in the spring when the warmth of the passing days building towards summer vanished into the cool pallor of night that seemed to long only for the return of winter. The moon hung high over the dense forest, the silvery half-sphere peeking through the treetops to shine its pale light upon the gentle moss and broken branches of the forest floor; a cool wind sighed gently through the budding branches, causing the whole forest to shift and murmur like a crowd of ponies anxious to hear news of an important event, still unsure if it would be good news or bad. The wind caressed the trees and moved lower into the forest, teasing loose leaves from their resting places and taking them on a slow dance through the air as if putting on display the remnants of the year before; the old, discolored leaves rose and fell on the fickle breeze, swirling to and fro between trees and bushes until finally they entered a small clearing. The breeze increased slightly, sending the leaves careening through space haphazardly, swirling around the gentle corner of a low set hut only to come to rest against a large black hoof. The pony to whom the hoof belonged glanced down at the leaves, his green eyes impassive as he lifted his hoof and allowed the leaves to continue on their journey. With the barest hint of a smile he glanced at the hut behind him, the wind stirring the black cloak he wore around himself as he reflected on the modest home he had built for himself deep in a forest far from Canterlot, far from Ponyville, far from anything; he had not wanted uninvited guests showing up randomly. Guests had questions, and so far, he had no answers. The windows of the hut were now dark, the candles inside extinguished for the last time, and the door was locked firmly; he couldn’t explain why, but the need to do so had overwhelmed his rational nature and had ended with him placing a spell upon the whole building so that nopony else would ever be able to enter the structure without him. He sighed softly; his heart, which had longed for this moment more and more with each passing day, now felt heavy and uncertain. This has been my home for the better part of a year, now… do I dare leave it? His green eyes took in the clearing slowly, memorizing each point of interest in it; the low-slung hut, mostly covered in sod that had kept him safe and warm throughout the winter; the massive oak trees that made up a good portion of this section of forest; the low bushes, barely in sight in the gentle moonlight, that grew wild berries and had been a good part of his diet for most of the fall… all of this had become part of his world in the past ten months, and now he was ready to walk out of it. He shifted slightly. Or am I? Life in the forest was easy enough; there were many wild plants in addition to the berries that he had become acquainted with harvesting and cooking, and had made a reasonably comfortable life for himself. In truth, it would be incredibly easy for him to fade away, to stay here forever in the forest, far from civilization… far from the reasons he was here in the first place. But… The black pony turned and walked to a nearby stream that trickled merrily through the forest, a stream that he had drank from countless times in the recent past, a feature that had made this spot such an ideal place for his small home. His hooves pressed into the soft soil at its edge and he threw back his hood before gazing down into it as he had done a thousand times before. His reflection stared back at him, his green eyes bright in the moonlight, the dark blue streaks in his black mane hidden in the blackness of the night. Everything could be simple. He wouldn’t have to face what he had done, would never have to see the faces of those he’d betrayed, those he’d harmed. He could spend his days in meditation, as he had been, cleansing his heart and mind of the hatred that had consumed them; he could spend his days practicing with his blade, finding the inner peace that all swordsponies sought and then living the rest of his days quietly until finally he passed from this world, never harming it or its inhabitants ever again. But if I stay here… I will never find it. He could feel his reflection watching him closely as the night wind touched his mane again, the cool breeze touching his cheek like the caress of the Princess of the Night herself… and he felt a smile touch his lips again. If I stay here… He turned from the stream and with a small pulse of midnight blue magic he pulled the hood of his cloak up around his face, sending it into deep shadow. If he stayed here he may indeed never have to face the world again… but it would mean that he would never atone for what he’d done. He had left the company of the one pony he loved in the world to find who he truly was, to go on a journey of self discovery- a journey that had so far had very little journeying in it. And if I never leave this forest... I’ll never see her again. It was the one thought that was with him constantly; the one thing that had made the fight against the hatred that had poisoned him worth-while, and the one thing that drove him to go back into the world- the love of a Princess. She believed in him, even if he did not, and if there was one thing he would never do again in his life it was disappoint the mare he loved. He shifted his cloak on his shoulders and gave his body a shake, adjusting the belt he wore around his hips so that the white and silver sword that hung there settled a little more comfortably; then, with a final glance at the hut he turned his back on his peaceful life and set off into the forest with no plan, nor even any idea of where he was going. There were only two things he was sure of; that Canterlot lay southwest of him by a great distance… and that it was not his destination. Not yet, at least. Just before he passed out of the clearing, he turned his eyes skyward once more, the half moon pale above the treetops as he smiled at it. “Luna,” he said softly. “Be with me.” Then he turned his eyes to the forest, and disappeared into the blackness between the trees. He didn’t know what he wanted to do or where he was going to go, but his hooves had started by carrying him to the north, and that seemed as good a direction as any to start with. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ One Week Later ~*~*~*~*~*~*~ The night was dark, darker than any Belle Pepper could ever remember. Somehow, despite the full moon overhead, everything except her family’s wagon was drenched in shadow, covered in shade so deep that the light from the four torches attached to the wagon itself seemed to illuminate less than they should. Belle cast her brown eyes upwards at the dark trees that towered above them, surrounding the forest path they traveled, and in spite of her promise to her father that she would be brave, she felt the cold whispers of fear gently caress her neck. “Belle? Belle Pepper, don’t you fall behind now,” her father’s strong voice called out from the front of the wagon, and Belle jumped slightly in spite of herself. With one last glance at the trees she galloped forward into the ring of firelight around the wagon. “Sorry Pa,” she said, tossing her dark green mane out of her eyes. “I was just-,” “You was just daydreamin’ again,” her father said, his voice heavy with disapproval. “You cain’t be doin’ that on a run like this, Belle, an’ especially not at night.” Belle felt her ears droop at the cool stare she received from her father. “You’re the one what wanted t’ come along, ain’tcha? I told you to stay home an’ mind the farm, but you wanted t’ come and see what things is all about. Well, if’n you don’t pay attention, missy, this business’ll be done an’ you’ll have wasted a trip.” “Now Tom, go easy on the poor girl.” Belle’s deep, earthy brown eyes turned to her mother, who gave her a wink with one pink eye before speaking again. “This is her first time out to the market in Withersville, and the filly’s excited.” Belle gave her mother a grateful smile; if there was one thing Pear Blossom was good at, it was keeping her husband in line. Her father, Tomato Vine, glanced at his wife skeptically, but Pear simply batted her eyes at him, and within a few moments the large farm-pony sighed and pulled harder against the wagon he was hitched to. “Pear, you are spoilin’ that girl somethin’ fierce. Gonna come a day when I won’t get a lick o’ respect outta her.” “Of COURSE I’m spoiling her, Tom,” the soft green mare said, tossing her white mane over her shoulder. “She’s our only child, and as sweet a filly as anypony could ask for; so I think your fears of not being respected are a little unfounded.” Belle blushed at her mother’s compliment, bringing the green color in her coat a dozen shades darker than her mother’s instead of just a few. “Awww Mom...” Tom turned back just long enough to give his daughter his best “Daddy knows best” stare, and Belle couldn’t help but giggle at him as she met his gaze, brown eyes to brown eyes; it was one of the few traits that the father and daughter shared. Tom sighed at Belle’s reaction and turned back to the road, his hay-colored mane matted with sweat and sticking to his tan coat. “Well, I sure hope you’re right, Pear… otherwise, this farm of ours ain’t gonna be worth a hill o’ beans when she takes over.” “Now hush that mouth of yours, Tomato Vine!” Pear’s eyes flashed dangerously in the torch light. “You know as well as I do that it isn’t for certain that Belle will have to take over anything, and even if she does, it won’t be for a long, long time. Don’t you start in on her; she’s almost a full-grown mare now, and I insist she take in the world before she gets chained to some farm.” Tomato looked sideways at his wife again, and he looked less than pleased… but after a moment he sighed. “I knew I was in trouble when I married you, Pear,” he muttered, and Pear Blossom smiled happily. “You got that right, farm-pony!” she teased. Belle couldn’t help but giggle at her parents; they always bantered back and forth, and her mother always won, because as tough as her father could sound sometimes, she knew he was a big softie in his heart. She was about to comment on it herself when a chilling howl rose out of the forest to her left, freezing her and her family in their tracks. She felt the cool pinpricks of fear run down her shoulders as the howl rose in a crescendo and then fell away, until the forest was once again silent. Ahead of her, she heard her father swear under his breath. “By the sun, move girls!” he said. “Get ahead of me and for the love of Celestia stay in the light!” Pear and Belle didn’t waste any time arguing, even good-naturedly; they hurried ahead and took up positions on either side of Tom. “Good,” he said, his voice low. “Now, listen to me. That was a timberwolf howl.” “T-timberwolf?” Belle whimpered; suddenly she regretted her promise to be brave, and wanted nothing more than to jump in the back of the wagon and hide. “Yes Belle, a timberwolf.” He turned his eye to his daughter, and when he spoke his tone was firm but unhurried. “You ‘member what I told you ‘bout timberwolves?” Belle nodded slightly, her eyes wide. “T-timberwolves are critters made of wood and magic; they can run faster than you, fight harder than you, and see and smell better than you.” “An’ what did I tell you to do if you ever saw one?” “I-if you see a timberwolf, it’s already too late, and you’d better get set for a fight.” “We haven’t seen these yet; what do we do?” Belle’s eyes snapped back into focus. Her father was right; they hadn’t seen them yet, just heard them; in fact, there was a good chance the wolves didn’t even know where they were. “If you hear a timberwolf, run like hay for the nearest town, and pray they don’t find your scent.” “’Atta girl, Belle. Now let’s git movin’, OK?” “…Okay.” “No stopping’, OK?” “O-okay.” Tom’s eyes were firm, now. “Even for me or ma, understand Belle? If’n one of us gets taken, you keep on runnin’.” Belle’s eyes widened as another howl erupted out of the woods on their right, closer than the last one. “Pa NO, I won’t leave you or Mom out here to be eaten by-,” “You will do as you’re told, girl,” her father said, his tone harsh. “I won’t have no daughter o’ mine get et by no timberwolf. If it comes to it you’re gonna run, Belle, you an’ your mother, an’ you’re NOT gonna look back, y’hear?” He turned his eyes on her mother. “D’ya hear me, Pear?” Her mother was silent for a long moment, and Belle almost peeked around her father’s huge form to see what was taking so long; but when Pear spoke, her voice was choked with tears. “I hear you, Tom,” she said. “I’ll… run.” “You’d best,” Tom said, rolling his shoulders in the harness. “Now, let’s get moving; don’t run yet, but we’re canterin’ at the least.” Belle nodded, and together the family set off at a brisk pace. Another howl rent the air off to their left again, this time even closer; Belle recoiled from the sound, as if it were a physical force that could hurt her just as much as the wolves themselves could. Her father’s eye found her, and she tried to give him a brave smile… but the fear was too much for her, and she knew it; she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes as the family hurried down the road. The forest was silent for a long while, the only sound in the air the clopping of hooves and the creak of the wagon’s wheels as they moved, and after ten minutes or so, Belle felt herself relax. “I haven’t heard the wolves in a while,” she said softly. “Maybe… maybe they found something else to chase.” Suddenly, a half a dozen howls exploded from the forest road behind them; the place where they had been not twenty minutes before, and Tom swore loudly. “A’ight, we’re runnin’! Run, girls, like yer lives depend on it!” He heaved against the wagon and it shot forward, pulled along by Tomato Vine’s incredible strength. Belle and her mother raced alongside him as the howls suddenly doubled in number. “Sounds like we got us a whole pack o’ wolves on our tail, Pear,” Tom huffed; he’d been pulling that wagon most of the day, and Belle knew her father was tired as it was- a full-on run pulling the cart wasn’t going to be easy, even on the tough Tom Vine. The sounds of the pack were growing closer now, and as Belle looked back they came into view; huge, horrible creatures with no skin and branches for bones, their razor-sharp thorn teeth snapping and gnashing. The green pony felt the fear in her heart explode outwards, chilling her to the bones and forcing the tears in her eyes to the surface as her hooves pounded against the ground. Faster and faster the pony family ran, the torches on their wagon guttering and failing as they bolted away from the hungry timberwolves. Belle’s breath came in fast, ragged draws, and sooner than she would have thought possible for a farm pony, her legs began to burn and her sides ache; she glanced at her mother and father, and she felt her hopes for escape die. Her father was falling farther and farther behind, his face a mask of pain as he tried to pull the wagon along with him; her mother had fallen back to run beside him, her eyes glistening with tears of her own. “Tom, let the wagon go!” she pleaded. “Leave it, we’ll come back for it! The timberwolves don’t want our vegetables!” The earth pony watched her for a few more steps before nodding. “All right, Pear; unhook me.” Pear Blossom nodded and reached her head in close to Tom’s body, grasping the straps that held him to the wagon in her teeth and giving a sharp yank, trying to free Tom from the wagon; but the straps wouldn’t budge while he was moving, and as much as Pear yanked and cried and swore and bit at them, nothing would make those straps come undone except for stopping where they were to undo them. “Mom! Pa!” Belle turned around and ran back to her parents, falling in beside them again. “Belle, you RUN,” her father said angrily. “Run while we distract ‘em! Celestia as my witness, they won’t get all of us!” He reached down with his own teeth and bit at the straps, but even his larger teeth were no match for them. Belle shook her head, forgetting her earlier promise as tears streamed down her cheeks. “No Pa, NO! I won’t leave you!” Tom looked about to argue with her, but as he glanced ahead at the road his eyes widened. “TARNATION!!” He dug in both front hooves and slammed into the wagon, using his own body as a brake; the wagon slid a good twenty to thirty feet with Tom attached to the front until it slid to a stop, Belle and Pear looping back to hover close to his side. “Pa?! Are you OK?!” Belle asked, her eyes wide with shock. To her relief her father coughed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine… not that it’ll do us much good…” He raised his head, his eyes determined; Belle followed her father’s gaze ahead of them… and her heart sank even more. A line of timberwolves stood across the road, their hollow eyes shadows in the bright moonlight; the torches on the family’s wagon were completely out now, and in the light of the moon the wolves were even scarier than before. Belle felt the icy touch of fear return to her; her muscles burned, sweat drenched her mane, and she knew that there was no way that she could fight off even one of these beasts. She stared at them, unable to pry her eyes away, even as her mother whimpered something about them being surrounded. Her father grunted as he stood and unstrapped himself from the wagon, a simple task now that he was no longer moving; he stepped away from the large wooden vehicle and in front of Belle. “Stay behind me, Belle,” he whispered. “If they attack, they’ll try to go for you first since you’re the smallest, so keep yer eyes open an’ kick anything that comes near.” She could hear the determination in his voice… but there was fear, as well. Somehow, that scared her more than the wolves did. The wolves stared at them, shifting impatiently from paw to paw, milling about them in a circle; Belle had enough time to estimate that there were around fifteen wolves all together… more than enough to rend the three ponies to shreds. The thought closed Belle’s throat, and she sobbed silently. So… this is it. Eaten by timberwolves… that’s the most horrible thing I can think of… She looked at her mother, huddled close by her side; Pear looked down at her with tear-soaked eyes and tried her best to give an encouraging smile to her daughter. “Don’t you worry, Belle darling… It should be over quick. The wolves want to… to kill as quickly as possible… so it probably won’t hurt too much…” There was a flurry of motion, and the wolves were moving as one, darting in from all sides in a suddenly rush of sound like a stiff wind rifling through thin trees; one wolf in particular raced ahead of the others and launched himself into the air, his paws extended, his mouth open wide to take a bite out of Tom. Belle squeezed her eyes shut, and prayed that death would come swiftly… …but death didn’t come swiftly; at least, not for Belle Pepper and her family. Instead of the rending of flesh, as she’d expected to hear, Belle heard an exceedingly loud crunch!!! that echoed through the clearing; it surprised her enough that her eyes shot open just in time to see the airborne wolf buckle on one side and go flying the opposite direction… as if somepony had kicked it in mid-air harder than any pony could ever kick. She watched as its body rolled several times before coming to a stop; as soon as it did, the branches began to disassemble themselves, all falling apart as the magic holding the wolf together unraveled. The other wolves continued their charge, heedless of their fallen companion, and suddenly a bright white light blazed behind the pony family. They turned their heads in surprise, shielding their eyes with their hooves; the light stopped the wolves in their tracks, their forward advance turning into growling and whining and gnashing of teeth. Then the light was gone, and from behind their wagon a dark shape darted; it leaped into the clearing between the family and the wolves, and through her light-dazzled eyes Belle could barely make out that it appeared to have four hooves beneath a piece of long, flowing fabric. The wolves hesitated, unsure of this newcomer… but it didn’t take them long to choose it as their new target; it was alone, standing away from the wagon and the family, therefore making itself easy pickings. “Watch out!” Tom shouted, but the figure paid him no mind as the wolves advanced rapidly, barks and howls of glee echoing around the forest. The first wolf reached the figure… and there was a rasping sound, similar to the sound Pa’s ax made when he was sharpening it on the whetstone. A brilliant white light flashed from the figure, and Belle watched in awe as the timberwolf’s head sailed away from the rest of its body to land near them. The rest of the wolves hesitated again, and as Belle’s eyes adjusted again to the night, she saw what the white light had been; it was a sword, a long, slender blade shining coldly in the full moon’s light, and it was being held aloft by a dark blue aura of magic that cast a gentle illumination on the figure- a pony wearing a black cloak, his or her face hidden from view. The blade floated to the figure’s left side, where the wolves were closest. “What in…?” Tom whispered. “Is that… a pony?” Pear whispered back. The wolves whined and barked and milled… and finally they charged the figure, over a dozen large, angry timberwolves, all bent on one thing; the destruction of the figure standing before them. Belle winced, but could not turn her eyes away, even if she was certain that this pony was dead. Two wolves attacked at once, closing in on the mystery pony from two directions; the blade flicked with incredible precision, slicing through the neck of one before whirling across the pony’s back to stab the other through the top of its wooden skull. Without missing a single movement the sword drew out of the skull as the pony stepped over the fallen body, turning as it did so and whipping the sword over its back; another wolf had leaped at it from behind… and directly into the path of the sword’s blade, shearing through the wolf’s legs and head. A wolf darted in to snap at the pony’s legs; the pony lifted its hooves just in time, bringing the full force of its body down upon the wolf with enough force that the wolf yelped as its wooden bones crunched beneath the weight of the cloaked pony. The floating sword made one, precise cut, and the wolf fell silent. Two or three more wolves tried their luck, each attacking while it thought the pony was distracted, and each fell to the blazing quicksilver arc that the sword left wherever it went. Belle watched in absolute awe as the wolves regrouped on the other side of the clearing, their numbers down by almost half; they growled angrily at the figure in the cloak, but they still didn’t look ready to retreat. The sword flicked back and forth twice, then hovered before the cloaked figure; then suddenly, with a light bright enough that the pony family had to cover their eyes again, the blade burst into bright flames, a blazing inferno that filled the glade with dancing red and orange light. The wolves flinched away from the fire, their aggressive growls turning into whines of submission, but it was too late; the pony lowered its head and jerked it to the side. The sword obliged, laying over on its side and flying at the group of wolves, spinning the blade around the hilt so fast that it looked as though it was a single hoop of fire. The pony jerked its head again, and the blade dipped lower, smashing into the remaining wolves with the crunch of wood and yelps of pain; their dry, tinder-like bodies burst into flame almost immediately as the sword plowed through them, smashing them to bits as the fire burned them. Then the yelps fell silent, and the blazing sword stopped spinning, rising above the broken wooden bodies of its foes to hover above them, burning with victory. Then, just as suddenly as it had ignited, the sword went out, and Belle was plunged again into darkness. “Pa?!” she said in panic. “I’m here, Belle,” he said quietly. “Hush for a moment, girl.” She felt more than saw him turn away from her. “Stranger?” He called. “That was… um… mighty kind o’ you, helpin’ us out an’ all.” There was no response. Her father cleared his throat. “Ahem… well, uh… I guess we’d like t’ thank you, if’n you’re… still here…” Suddenly, the torches on their wagon sprang to life in a burst of fire and light, causing the whole family to jump… but Belle’s eyes were drawn ahead of them, where the cloaked pony stood not ten feet away, the darkness of its hood concealing its identity. The sword was nowhere to be seen, and Belle found herself wondering where it had gone. Tom rubbed his eyes with a hoof. “Consarnit… y’all coulda warned us that you were gonna light them torches…” To Belle’s surprise, the figure chuckled softly and spoke. “My apologies. I haven’t been around other ponies in quite a while.” The figure was male, she realized; and he had a deep, musical voice that somehow immediately put her at ease. Her father sighed and nodded. “Sorry… it’s just been quite an evenin’,” he said. After a moment, he mustered a smile for the strange, cloaked pony. “Well, you have our undyin’ gratitude, sir,” he said, bowing his head low. “If it weren’t for you, them wolves woulda made an easy meal of us.” The figure waved a hoof in dismissal. “Please, do not thank me. I was here, and was able to help. It was the right thing to do; I don’t deserve your thanks.” “Well sure you do!” Pear said from Tom’s other side. “You killed all those timberwolves, by yourself! That was absolutely amazing!” Her eyes were still wide from shock, but Belle agreed whole-heartedly with her mother. Now the figure shook his head slowly. “No… please. No more thanks. I truly do not deserve your praise.” Pear opened her mouth again, but Tom raised a hoof. “Pear… just let ‘im be,” he said quietly. The green and white pony looked at her husband in surprise, but the look in Tom’s eyes wasn’t angry or sullen or jealous; it was a look of respect. “Jus’ let ‘im be.” Pear’s eyes went from her husband to the stranger and back again before she sighed sharply and turned away. Tom nodded before looking back to the stranger. “Well stranger; is there anything you need? We’re farm folk, an’ we’re cartin’ our goods t’ the market in Withersville.” The black-cloaked pony tilted his head. “Is that the town to the north? Withersville?” “That’s it. Only town fer miles around.” The stranger thought for a moment, and when he spoke again, Belle could hear the smile in his voice. “And what is so important there that three farm ponies couldn’t wait to travel during the day, when it’s safe?” Now her father looked abashed, and rubbed his hoof along the back of his neck. “Well… y’see, that there’s my fault. I started out a bit too late today, an’ I thought I could make it by sundown… I guess we all see how well THAT worked out…” The strange pony laughed again, and Belle could feel the warmth in it. “Well, we all make mistakes, sir… but this could have been a very bad one, if I hadn’t shown up.” Tom nodded, looking grim. “That’s the honest truth if’n I ever heard it. You can bet bits to bedsheets that I won’t be settin’ out that late ever again. It ain’t worth losin’ family over.” “All too true, sir.” The figure’s head tilted slightly the other direction. “Well, since you are already out this late, it would be prudent to continue on.” He hesitated slightly before taking a step forward. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to accompany you to Withersville? I was going there myself, and I would be more than happy to escort you and your family.” “Well, that’s mighty kind o’ ya, stranger,” Tom said after a moment. “But I got one condition.” The hooded figure froze in place, and Belle held her breath. Please don’t say anything silly, Pa… “And what would that be?” Tom simply smiled. “Yer name, stranger. I’d like t’ be able t’ tell all the ponies I meet this tale, an’ I cain’t rightly do that without yer name.” There was a long silence from the cloaked pony, so long that Belle was sure he was going to refuse and melt away into the night, the same way he’d arrived… but finally, after several moments, he nodded. “Very well.” A gentle aura of dark blue magic lit up around his hood and pulled it back, revealing a long, slender horn surrounded by jet black hair streaked with blue. His coat was pure, pristine black, and when he looked the family over Belle felt herself freeze beneath his gaze; he had the clearest green eyes she had ever seen in her entire life. With a sigh and a small smile, the unicorn gave them all a deep, courtly bow. “My name…” “…is Dark Star.”