Never before had he felt such pain. His ripped and torn flesh allowed his life’s blood to gush forth from his wounds. Looking to his right all he saw was a bloody stump, both blood and marrow were oozing out of the vicious wound. Still in shock over the loss of the arm, he tried unsuccessfully to free himself from the iron spikes penetrating his abdomen with his remaining hand. Thankfully he was going into shock, and was unable to feel his hand being sliced open by the razor sharp spikes. Looking to his left, he saw his own severed arm still holding the key to his salvation. Although less than half a span away from his reach, it might as well have been in the pit for all the good it would do him now.
“If I could just manage to free myself,” he thought desperately to himself. “I could grab The Vendetta and put this madbull down.”
Weak and bleeding he didn’t have the strength to free himself, judging by the deathly cold he was feeling he knew that he’d be entering the Summerlands before too long. Looking up at the monster that had done this to him, he could only hang his head in defeat. The old knight wept in shame when he thought of how he was powerless to stop this evil from happening. His vision clouded as he struggled to keep breathing. Even now at the very end, he bitterly fought the reaper as he stubbornly clung to life.
*****
It was a beautiful day. Above him the sky was a brilliant blue, and a warm gentle breeze from the east blew against his dark coat. Overhead the golden sun and silver moon showered him with their benevolent light as he wandered over the rolling hills. He didn’t know how long he’d been traveling the lonely road in this place. If not for the lack of companionship, the traveler would have been having a wonderful time. From time to time during his travels he would met an occasional fellow traveler, sometimes alone but oftentimes surrounded by friends. It was at times like that, that the traveler felt the loneliness the most. Before he’d started his long journey, he hadn’t known many he’d consider worthy of being called friend. In fact, there was only one. Though their destinies decided that they go their separate ways, he traveler often wondered how his friend was and wished to see him once again.
On the next hill over, the traveler spied a familiar tree that seemed to stretch endlessly into the heavens. Its green boughs, heavy with golden fruit swayed gently in the breeze. The ancient tree offered shade to any and all weary travelers that were making their way towards their destinations. Sitting down in its shade as he had many times before, the traveler smiled at the passing travelers as they went about their business. Looking to his left, he saw the familiar little blue unicorn mare sitting all alone in the shade with her eyes closed humming to herself a familiar and gentle tune.
The traveler closed his eyes listening to the pleasant tune, while resting in the shade of the towering green tree. When the music stopped the traveler respectfully bowed. “Thank you, that was lovely,” he said, offering a warm smile of appreciation to the unicorn.
“Oh you’re welcome,” the unicorn said, returning his smile before looking at the traveler in curiosity. “It’s odd,” she said, “I’ve not seen many pass this way more than once. Are you lost?”
The traveler considered her question a moment before shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not quite sure,” he replied, looking into her purple eyes. “Maybe I’m just not sure where I want to go yet. After all, it’s such a lovely day for a stroll.”
“That it is,” the mare agreed, closing her eyes and deeply breathing of the sweet smelling air.
The traveler picked two of the golden fruits, handing one of them to her. “Would you care to share a meal with me?” he asked, biting into succulent flesh of the fruit.
“Thank you,” the unicorn said, taking ahold of the fruit with her magic.
As they ate together the traveler felt at peace, enjoying each other’s presence as they silently ate their meal together. After a few minutes once having eaten their fill, they resumed their silent contemplation.
After what might have been an eternity or only five minutes, the traveler turned towards the unicorn and asked the same question he always did, “May I share this tree with you?”
As always, the mare gave him an apologetic smile and replied, “I’m sorry I can’t,” she said. “I’m saving this spot for somepony very important to me.”
“I understand,” the traveler replied in disappointment. “I hope you meet them soon.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll come,” the unicorn replied, wearing a contented smile, “I just need to wait and be patient.”
The traveler gave her a knowing smile and resumed his journey, as she continued humming to herself. As her music faded into silence, the traveler said to himself, “I’m sure you’ll meet again one day.”
*****
“Clover, wake up!” a familiar and gentle voice said, rousing the unicorn from his stupor.
“Wait, what?” Clover replied, his head still ringing from the explosion that had knocked him senseless.
Looking up, Clover saw to his horror Sir Stouthorn impaled on massive iron spikes and missing his right arm. Recoiling at the sight of his friend’s fatal wounds and pooling blood, he turned away and saw the Slave King standing menacingly above Shanks casting a malevolently gaze at the unconscious pup. Fearing for his friend’s safety, the unicorn started charging his horn with magic to cast an offensive spell at the Slave King’s back. He stopped when he saw Sir Stouthorn shaking his head and whispering, “The Vendetta,” before dropping his head.
Taking the knight’s meaning, Clover used his magic to levitate Sir Stouthorn’s arm and placed it down in front of his hooves. He tried using his magic to remove The Vendetta from the arm but found it wouldn’t budge. Without hesitation, he used his mouth to loosen the straps and strip it off from the arm. Placing his hoof near The Vendetta, he heard its familiar whisper buzzing in his mind, “Use me and help your friends!”
Looking down at the weapon, Clover became transfixed on its metal form as the whispers became louder and more urgent, “Wield me and avenge your friend,” it spoke to him, clouding his vision and filling his heart with anger.
Thinking about how the Slave King had betrayed everypony, hurt the princesses, and mortally wounded Sir Stouthorn filled Clover with a cold fury he had never known before. Looking up towards the Slave King standing over his helpless friend, made his heart nearly break. “Place me on your horn, and avenge them!” the voice hissed in his mind.
“Clover,” a familiar voice sternly said, drowning out The Vendetta’s demand. “Grab the stone from Sir Stouthorn and confront the Slave King.”
Using his magic, Clover picked up the small black stone and looked at it. Its smooth surface revealed nothing special about it, how it was supposed to stop the Slave King he had no idea. Looking down at The Vendetta he heard a dark laugh, “You reject my power for that of a mere stone’s?” the voice said. “Clover, with me on your horn you can save everypony, stop the Slave King, and even claim the Domain of Earth as yours if you desire.”
While Clover stood transfixed trying to choose between using the stone or The Vendetta, visions of the future entered his mind. He saw himself standing defiant and brave in front of the terrible Slave King. The craven beast’s black iron crown crackled with energy, while his brand flared with power. Lowering his horn he issued a challenge to the mad god, “You monster!” he shouted. “Your tyranny ends today.”
“Nothing can stop me, not even The Vendetta!” the Slave King retorted, his eyes wickedly flashing his malevolent intent towards everypony.
Gathering his magic through The Vendetta that rested on his horn, Clover found that the magic he could channel was limitless. Looking down at the prone forms of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, he narrowed his eyes and channeled their power. “This ends today once and for all,” he said, releasing a full portion of both alicorn’s power into the Slave King.
When the solar and lunar energies hit him, the Slave King’s skin cracked and blackened as he slowly petrified into stone, cracked into pieces, and then dissolved into dust leaving behind only his iron crown and the cloak of Darkpaw.
Using his magic, Clover picked them up and used The Vendetta to reforge the crown and cloak into something more suitable for their new owner. Testing his command over the Earth, he reached out and withdrew the iron spikes into the ground freeing Sir Stouthorn.
"Sir Stouthorn,” he said, “are you alright?”
“I’m sorry lad,” he said, his face ashen and grey. “I’m afraid that my time has finally come.”
“No,” Clover said, determined that his friend would live. “Let me get one of the princesses to help.”
Trotting over towards Princess Celestia, Clover shook her. “Please wake up!” he shouted, afraid for his friend’s life.
Princess Celestia opened her eyes, and was shocked to see Clover wearing the Slave King’s garb. “Is the Slave King dead?” she asked, with sorrow in her voice.
“Yes,” Clover replied, “he gave me no other choice. But please, we might be able to save Sir Stouthorn if we hurry.”
Princess Celestia stood up and walked towards the fallen minotaur. When she saw his wounds she lowered her head sadly, “I’m afraid there nothing I can do,” she said. “He’s beyond the reach of my power.”
“Alas, mine too,” Princess Luna added. “Forsooth, only the Slave King’s puissant power in conjunction with mine sister’s light and our shadow could aid thy friend now.”
“I seem to have inherited the Slave King’s control over the Earth,” Clover said, lighting up his horn.
“Impossible,” Princess Luna said.
“Then perhaps there’s a chance we can still save Sir Stouthorn,” Princess Celestia said, lowering her horn. “Clover, come join horns with my sister and I, and we can try healing him.”
“Fear not my little pony,” Princess Luna said, approaching Clover. “We shall show thee what to do.”
Connecting his horns with both of the princesses simultaneously was an overwhelming experience for the young unicorn. As his magic melding with theirs, he felt the power of creation washing over him from the bottom of his hooves to the tip of his horn. Not willing to let his friend slip away, he channeled all of his power into healing him. As his divinity mingled with theirs he felt a change overcome him. First wings erupted from his back, as he slowly grew in stature until he towered over even Princess Celestia herself.
Looking at his new body, and then at the fully healed Sir Stouthorn he smiled. “Stand tall my friend!” Clover joyously shouted.
Sir Stouthorn stood up and looked down at his healed wounds before embracing his friend’s neck, “Thank you lad, or shall I say stallion?” he said, looking at the new alicorn standing in front of him.
“I don’t know what came over me,” Clover said, unsure of his new body.
“You have touched the power of creation and become an alicorn,” Princess Celestia said, rubbing up against his flanks.
“Verily, thou art become a most comely stallion,” Princess Luna added, nibbling at his mane. “Truly, thou hast dominion over this domain.”
“Without somepony to guide the Domain of Earth, it will grow wild,” Princess Celestia said. “Clover will you manage the Earth?”
“Yes, I will do it for Equestria,” Clover said, feeling full of power and wisdom. “I must be the Lord of Earth now.”
“Perform the renewal of Earth ceremony, and set things right,” Princess Celestia said, touching her horn to his.
“Then let me end this famine once and for all!” Clover the alicorn said, drawing upon the power of the Earth with his mighty horn. “I claim all the badlands as mine. Let this foul desolation, this cursed plateau of the foul Slave King, this diamond dog infested desert of nameless horrors, let it blossom forth and live! Let it live for Clover the powerful!”
Rearing up on his hind legs, he pounded the Earth making flowers bloom beneath his hooves. Outside the ruined city, the once barren badlands spread into full bloom spreading lush greenery as far as the eye could see. “Behold the garden of my delight, so shall I transform all Equestria!”
“Clover the powerful,” Princess Celestia said, with a slight blush on her cheeks. “Let my sister and I assist you. Let us be at your side and together we can bring peace and prosperity to all.”
“Verily, mine mighty stallion,” Princess Luna added, “allow us to be thy consorts and bring about the third age!”
“If that is your desires princesses,” Clover said, looking both of them in the eye. “I shall take both of you as my wives and rule with you together as your husband.”
“Clover the powerful, allow me to serve as your right hand,” Sir Stouthorn said, bowing low to the ground.
“You shall my friend,” Clover said, with a kindly smile. “Together we shall forge a new era of peace.”
“All hail Clover the powerful!” Sir Stouthorn shouted, saluting the new Lord of Earth and his brides to be.
“See…” the voice tempted, “all that and more could be yours. Use me and strike down the Slave King, and all you saw will come to pass Clover the Powerful.”
All Clover could think about was the promises The Vendetta offered him, all he needed to do was use it to slay the Slave King. Reaching forth his hoof to don The Vendetta as a diadem of power, he stopped when he saw a pair of grey eyes looking at him from the shadows. “No Clover,” the familiar voice gently said, before fading away, “that is not for you. Use the stone and save your friend.”
Free of the trance he was under, Clover shook his head a few times picked up the smooth stone with his magic and stood in front of the Slave King with a look of iron determination on his face. “You will not harm anypony else,” he said, issuing his challenge to the Slave King.
*****
The traveler continued along the long and winding road at a leisurely pace, he was in no particular hurry to go anywhere and the day was so beautiful he just wanted to see and smell as much as he could. Stopping to smell a large patch of strawberries along the side of the road, he inhaled their aroma deeply before helping himself to a few of the large succulent berries.
While his head was buried deep in the patch he heard somehound behind him. Perking up his ears he tried determining who it could possibly be. “Toby I’m sorry to bother you, but he needs you…” a kindly voice said.
“Who needs me?” Toby asked, too busy looking for the ripest strawberries to pull his head up out of the patch.
“Your friend,” the voice replied. “Will you come to him in his hour of need?”
“I wish I could,” Toby replied with a sigh, lifting his head up out of the patch and turning to look back the way he had traveled longingly. “But he’s someplace where I can’t follow.”
“But would you go if you could?” the speaker countered, moving closer to him.
“Yes if he has need of me once more, I would gladly be by his side again,” Toby said, looking into the speakers large grey eyes.
“Then sleep in the shade of the Yggdrasil and when you awake shall return to him,” the speaker advised.
“But how can I return,” Toby asked, “none may leave the Summerlands, once they’ve entered them.”
“There are certain paths which might be followed,” the speaker advised, “You share a bond with him, which will allow your return if only in incorporeal form.”
“You mean like the angry dead?” Toby asked, as he walked down the path to where the great tree grew.
“No, you shall be as you once were,” the voice advised, following after him down on the path towards the Yggdrasil. “But take care, for once you’ve entered there’s no return until the end of days.”
“Then I shall willing return and keep him company until that time,” Toby replied.
“Are you sure you’re willing to give up your rest?” the speaker asked, slithering along the path.
“Yes, he still needs me,” Toby replied, “I suppose that’s why I couldn’t ever reach the end of the path.”
"Then rest beneath its shade and I shall sing open the path to return you to his side,” the great serpent said.
“Oh hello again,” the unicorn mare said, when she saw Toby and his companion. “Did you find a friend?”
“No, but I’m about to find one soon,” Toby replied, sorry that this would be his last meeting with the mare.
“Well I hope you find your friend in good spirits,” the mare said with a warm smile.
The serpent coiled himself next to the mare and gestured for Toby to lay down by his side. “Come now, close your eyes and listen to my song,” the serpent said with a gentle smile.
The serpent started singing a few bars of a song that was indescribable with words, and brought tears to both Toby and the unicorn. Looking up at the great serpent the mare asked, “May I join you?”
“Little one, not this time I’m afraid,” the serpent replied with a kindly smile. “But perhaps when the world is ready to be renewed, we can sing it together.”
“Oh that would be lovely,” the mare replied, before discovering that the traveler had vanished leaving behind only an indentation in the grass.
“Where did he go?” the mare asked, puzzled by his sudden disappearance.
“Oh Scourge was needed elsewhere,” the serpent said, slithering behind the trunk of the great tree before disappearing from sight.
Satisfied with the answer, the mare resumed waiting under the shade of the Yggdrasil fruit laden branches as she hummed a few bars of the new song she had just learned.
*****
The Slave King looked down at the unicorn that had dared get between him and his prize. Looking at its blue fur and black mane he couldn’t recall its name, only that it had defied him just like the minotaur. As he stared into the unicorn’s determined golden eyes, he saw his own reflection glaring back at him. Looking down at the tiny creature that thought it could stand in his way when the minotaur had failed, made him want to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the thought.
“Step aside little pony, lest I judge you like I did your compatriot,” the Slave King said, giving the unicorn a single chance to escape his wrath.
“No,” Clover said, feeling deathly afraid but still holding his ground. Levitating the smooth stone between the Slave King and himself he remained firm. “I know Shank’s clan hurt you greatly, but he’s an innocent pup that would never harm anypony ever.”
“They killed them!” the Slave King raged, stepped forward trying to avoid facing the stone. “And for that all their thrice damned clan will pay.”
“Stand back!” Clover warned, moving the stone closer to the Slave King.
“If you won’t move out of the way, then I will have no choice but to judge you as well,” the Slave King said, attempting to draw upon his power. However, he found to his disappointment that his magical reserves were now nearly empty having spent most of them on the explosion earlier.
Feeling frustrated at having been denied his revenge, the Slave King reached for the stone to move it out of his way. When his right hand touched the smooth surface of the stone, he looked and couldn’t believe what he saw.
*****
Seafoam opened his eyes and looked up, when he saw Sir Stouthorn’s broken and bleeding body he wept. Immediately, he got up and floated over to his master’s side and tried freeing him from the iron spikes. He discovered to his disappointment, that they were wedged too tightly for him to move without slicing the minotaur to pieces. Looking down at his cut and bleeding fins and then back at his master’s severed arm, the seapony could only feel burning rage and hatred for the one who had done this his liege.
“Master, I shall avenge you!” Seafoam shouted, before turning to look at the Slave King and then down at The Vendetta lying forgotten on the floor.
*****
Showboat felt herself being roused by Shaw’s beak as she slowly opened her eyes in confusion. Looking up at her beloved, she smiled until she saw how badly Sir Stouthorn was wounded and how Clover was standing alone against the Slave King.
“Come Shaw,” Showboat said, getting up on her hooves, “Clover, Shanks, and Sir Stouthorn need our help.”
Shaw rooted through his saddlebags until he found what he was looking for, a medical kit. “Showboat,” he said, tossing the kit to her, “see if you can do something for Sir Stouthorn while I help Clover.”
“Darling, don’t you dare die on me,” Showboat said, giving the griffin a quick kiss before trotting over towards Sir Stouthorn’s side.
*****
The Slave King saw himself, Snowe and Little Bleu making their way through the mines trying their best to avoid any patrols.
Pressing themselves against the roughhewn walls of the mine, they all held their breath as Bloodhorn, a blood red unicorn with a broken horn and Lasher’s number two minion was patrolling the tunnel. Once the unicorn had passed them by, King raised his arm and motioned for them to follow him deeper into the mine. “This way,” he whispered in hushed tones, trying his best to avoid making any echoes.
“Quickly we’re almost there,” King said, pointing to the mark he had made several days earlier.
As the three soon to be ex-slaves made their way towards the back of the tunnel, King could feel his heart quicken in excitement. Finally after ten long years his family would be finally be free these damnable diamond dogs! Spying the stone he had used to hide his discovery to freedom, he pointed towards the spot as both Little Bleu and Snowe began attacking the stone. When their picks hit the wall they were rewarded with a cool blast of air hitting them in the face.
Both Little Bleu and Snowe inhaled the air deeply testing it for the slightest scent of diamond dog. Not smelling any, the unicorn mare smiled and hugged her father tightly eliciting from him a small groan of pain. His body still hadn’t fully recovered from the wounds he had received earlier that week courtesy of their minotaur taskmaster Lasher. “I’m sorry father,” she said apologetically. “I’m just so excited that escape is finally within reach.”
“Quiet Bleu,” Snowe said. “We’re not in the clear yet. We still need to widen the hole wide enough for all of us to fit and then collapse the tunnel.”
Little Bleu nodded and resumed attacking the wall with her pick while King kept a lookout. Every so often he would give them the signal and they would stop working. After an hour or so, the hole had been widened enough to fit his thin frame. Shimmying through the hole, he grabbed their provisions and placed them where they could grab them when they make their hasty retreat to freedom.
Grabbing a pick, King worked furiously on his side of the wall trying to help speed up the work. Every so often they tested the hole’s width and found that it was now nearly large enough for both Snowe and Little Bleu to fit. With only a few more strokes of their picks they would finally be free. When the last pick stroke fell, the escapees hugged each other as they silently celebrated their final steps into freedom.
“Alright, I’ll set the overcharged the gems to collapse the tunnel.” Little Bleu said, picking up a satchel of large gems they had brought along for the occasion. Giving her father a hug and quick kiss on the cheek, she pushed through the hole and disappeared into the darkness.
“Be careful Little Bleu,” Snowe whispered to her as she trotted towards the tunnel entrance. Their plan was to place the gems where their explosion would collapse the tunnel to cover their escape. Normally escaped slaves were hunted down relentlessly, but down here in the mines collapses were a real danger and loosing slaves to the mines happened regularly. King was confident no one would discover their escape as he had left behind a few of their rags in the soon to be collapsed tunnel.
“Hey Bleu what’s taking so long?” Snowe whispered into the dark tunnel. When he didn’t receive a response, he crawled through the hole and said, “Brother stay behind, I’m going to check on her.”
Another few minutes passed and King didn’t receive any answer when he called out to his family. Deciding to see what was keeping them, he crawled through the tunnel and started looking for both of them. Before he could take two steps forward, he felt a massive fist punch him in the back of the head sending him sprawling to the ground.
He felt rough hands stand him up, slam him head first into the wall before punching him in the face. “Slave, what do you think you’re doing out past your curfew?” an angry voice snarled.
“Oh Lasher, you know the usual,” King replied, only to be rewarded with a hard slap.
“Slave,” Lasher growled, pushing King forward towards the mouth of the tunnel, “I heard it from a little bird that you were trying to escape. You weren’t trying to escape slave now were you, not after all the tender loving care I put into you?”
King remained silent until they walked around a bend in the tunnel, when he saw Snowe lying on the ground with a bloodied head, and Little Bleu quietly sobbing as she was being used by One Eye, Lasher’s number one while Bloodhorn restrained her with his magic.
“I’m sorry daddy,” Little Bleu sobbed as she was being violated by the griffin and unicorn slavers.
“Slave, don’t get any ideas,” Lasher said, punching King in the hard in the gut knocking the wind out of him. “If you’re good, we may even leave a piece of her for you to have.”
King fell to the ground stunned and staring in disbelief at what he was powerless to stop. “No…” he whimpered, as he reached out to his daughter in vain.
*****
“No…” the Slave King whimpered, startling Clover.
“No what?” Clover asked, unsure what the Slave King had meant.
“Get away from her!” the Slave King cried out, frozen in place looking at Shanks in equal parts concern and fear.
“King…” Snowe whispered. “Get the gem by your feet it’s set to explode.”
The Slave King looked down at The Vendetta, and leapt to grab it.
King felt a heavy fist, punch him hard in the face sending him sprawling to the ground, as he struggled against Seafoam who had a firm grip on the weapon with his fin.
“Watch out!” Showboat cried, as the gem flew out of their grip and into the air.
“Sir Stouthorn,” Snowe said to Lasher, “did King do this to you?”
“No Snowe,” King hissed, making a mad scramble for The Vendetta, “Lasher deserved it!”
“Help… Seafoam…” Lasher said, through weak and ragged breathes.
“Why are you doing this to us?” Little Bleu asked King, “Haven’t you hurt enough innocent ponies?”
“No, they took you away from me!” the Slave King shouted, fighting against Snowe and Seafoam in a struggle to see who would get the magically over charged gem.
“Me sorry me hurt you not-Darkpaw,” Little Bleu said, licking the Slave King’s hand.
“Little Bleu, you could never hurt me love,” King tenderly told Shanks, holding his daughter tightly as he held the pup aloft in his hands.
“Daddy you hurting me,” Little Bleu whined, as she desperately struggled to escape his iron grip.
“No!” King shouted to the frightened diamond dog pup. “We’ll leave this evil place together, Little Bleu. You, me, and Uncle Snowe all together, just as we always planned.”
*****
Seafoam finally had The Vendetta in his fins and he intended to use it. Placing the weapon on his right fin he activated it into the shape of his master’s flaming axe. In over seventeen summers, the seapony had never felt like this towards any creature. He had always strived to follow after his master’s example and avoid the sin of wrath. But when he looked at the barely breathing Sir Stouthorn, and then at The Vendetta attached to his fin he gritted his teeth as dark hatred for the Slave King filled his entire being. Silently creeping up towards the Slave King, Seafoam readied his weapon and brought it down as hard as he could against his hated enemy.
*****
King with tears streaming down his face, held the broken body of his beloved daughter against his chest as the walls all around him collapsed. “Daddy,” she said weakly, “I love you… I’ll wait for you under the shade of a green tree… Then we can go swimming in the Western sea together under Celestia’s Sun and Luna’s Moon… Just like you always said we would.”
“I won’t leave you!” King cried out in anguish. “I already lost Snowe, I can’t lose you too my love.”
“Daddy please…” Little Bleu begged, as her eyes closed for the final time. “Live for me…”
Seeing the life drain from his daughter’s corpse made King’s entire body lose all feeling as he numbly crawled down the collapsing mine and into the escape passage they had dug and out into safety. Finally free to grieve, King rolled on his back and sobbed longing for the darkness to take him to be with her again. After what seemed an eternity had passed, he grabbed the provisions they had stashed and stumbled blindly into the tunnel not caring if he lived or died.
*****
The Slave King lay helpless, shaking in a pile as his right arm lay severed on the ground. Seafoam held The Vendetta at the ready to land the fatal strike. Before he could dispatch the monster, the weak voice of his master whispered to him, “No… Seafoam… you mustn’t… the Virtuous…” he wheezed. “To be virtuous…”
“To be virtuous,” Seafoam said, continuing his master’s poem, while looking down at the Slave King with hatred in his heart, “is better than to be mighty or brave. A virtuous pony will always do what’s right, even when it hurts. To be truly virtuous requires a pony of quality. Brave in the face of temptation, a soul strong enough to resist evil, and the conviction to be steadfast.”
“Good lad,” Sir Stouthorn coughed weakly, “resist evil… be virtuous…”
Seafoam looked down at the Slave King’s sobbing form, and then at The Vendetta attached to his fin and realized to his horror what he had almost become. Removing the hateful weapon, he dropped it besides the Slave King’s severed arm and floated towards Sir Stouthorn weeping in sorrow. “Master!” he cried. “Forgive me!”
“I already have my son, I already have,” Sir Stouthorn said, with tears of pride streaming down his face. He looked up at his protégé. “Seafoam my son, I can die happy now. I’ve lived to see you surpass me.”
“Look the princesses are starting to wake,” Seafoam said frantically, “perhaps one of them can save you!”
“Don’t weep my son,” Sir Stouthorn said with a contented smile, “for soon I go to meet with friends long passed.”
“Princess Celestia! Princess Luna!” Seafoam shouted, concerned for his master’s life. “Please wake up, he’s dying!”
Princess Luna was the first to rise, and looked down on the Slave King with a look of pity before turning to see the mortally wounded Sir Stouthorn. “What hast the monster done to thee, oh brave sir knight?” she said, crying for him. “My comely champion hast been so cruelly struck done in his prime. Please forgive us for not being strong enough to withstand the beast’s rage.”
“Nay Princess Luna,” Sir Stouthorn said, reaching out with his left hand to her muzzle. “Allow a dying knight one favor, my lady of the night.”
“If thou desireth my comely champion,” Princess Luna said, looking down at Sir Stouthorn with sorrow, “I shalt arrange a constellation in thy honor, so none may forget thy bravery.”
“If you’ll forgive my forwardness, might I receive a kiss from you?" Sir Stouthorn asked.
“Surely,” Princess Luna said, lowering her muzzle to his, giving him a tender kiss.
“Hey sorry if I’m interrupting something,” Slick said as he got up from the ground, “but where’s the Slave King at?”
Princess Luna turned around and saw only his abandoned limb. Not seeing either her sister or The Vendetta, she turned towards the companions, “Perhaps mine sister is castigating the scound in private,” she said, as she used her magic to free Sir Stouthorn from the iron spikes. “But for now let us recover our party.”
*****
The Slave King saw his severed arm holding the stone and The Vendetta by his feet. Picking up both, he used the last bits of his reserves and retreated to the last place he had seen her, the mines. Removing his iron crown and cloak, he dropped them to the ground. Leaning against a nearby wall he slid to the earth in despair. Picking up the smooth stone he replayed the memory it contained over and over, looking down at The Vendetta he contemplated finally ending it all. Placing The Vendetta in his left hand, he raised it against his throat and pictured a large frost covered sword in his mind as he toyed with the idea of finishing what the seapony had started.
“Slave King, stop!” he heard a compassionate and gentle voice say. “You don’t have to do this.”
The Slave King, his face covered in shadows turned away from the voice wishing to be left alone to die. He felt her near, reaching out in compassion for his suffering. Looking up, he saw Celestia standing over him with heartfelt sympathy in her eyes. “But they’re dead. They’re both dead and I’m all alone!” he lamented.
Without the cloak and crown, the Slave King looked nothing like the terrifying and intimidating creature that had stood up to Lord Ouroboros just earlier that day. Instead he looked like a frightened child, lost and alone in the world. Celestia lay down beside the suffering man and draped her wing over him like a mother cradling its child, embracing him. She said nothing, offered no judgment or condemnation. Instead, she lay there and shared with him her quiet strength and compassion. Andrew, no longer the Slave King returned her heartfelt embrace, burying his face deep in her silken mane and wrapped his arms around her neck unleashing the torrent of pent up emotions that he’d forced himself to carry.
Finally confronting what had happened that fateful night, the man who had no more tears wept. He wept once for his Little Bleu, the daughter he loved more than life itself. He wept again for Snowe, his loyal comrade and wise brother. And finally he wept for himself. Not only for the loss of his family but also for what he’d allowed himself to become, a cruel and heartless monster. As the tears of regret and sorrow fell from his face they crystallized into six beautiful gems.
“Master, you’re no longer alone,” the Slave King heard a deep voice say, “What is your command oh great one?”
“Scourge is that you?” the Slave King asked, scarcely believing his ears. Breaking his embrace with Celestia he looked at his servant. “Second said you had fallen in battle.”
“Second’s a fool who’s only desire was to remove me so he could rise up in the ranks,” Scourge derisively replied, stepping out of the shadows and into the dim lighting of the mine. The mighty doomhound bowed deeply to both Princess Celestia and the Slave King. Looking at Scourge, the Slave King noticed that he seemed to be translucent.
Scourge, noticing his liege’s confusion walked closer to his master. “Great Slave King, It’s the price I had to pay to return to your side,” he said. When he noticed his master’s missing right arm he grew sorrowful, “My king, forgive me for coming too late to protect you from your enemies.”
The Slave King stood, looked down at the doomhound, and smiled. “Scourge, there’s nothing to forgive,” he said, looking down at his stump with a twinge of regret. “Losing my arm was the price I had to pay to restore myself.”
“Then what is you command, oh Great Slave King,” Scourge asked.
“We shall attend to our guests and see them off with a proper farewell,” the Slave King replied, placing his iron crown back on his head, cloak on his shoulders, and gems in his pocket. “Then I have a moot to attend to. After that my faithful servant, we shall see.”
At hearing his king offer him praise, Scourge smiled as he bowed once more to his lord. Taking his place by the Slave King’s side he followed behind the two deities on their way back to the palace.
*****
When the Slave King and Princess Celestia rematerialized in front of them, none where more shocked or relieved than Clover. Surrounding them were five doomhounds and a very upset Nightmare.
When the Slave King saw the commotion he immediately took command. Looking to Scourge he released a sharp whistle, calling Nightmare to his side while a ghostly Scourge growled once at the other doomhounds calling them to heel. With the immediate danger out of the way the Slave King returned to his throne and sat down as if nothing had happened.
“The minotaur is he…” the Slave King said before Seafoam angrily interrupted him.
“His name is Sir le Boeuf Stouthorn the chivalrous, of the ‘Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’!” he said, in a tone that demanded to be heard and respected. “He is my master, and you slew him.”
“My apologies seapony,” the Slave King apologized, lowering his head in regret for what he’d done. “Is Sir le Boeuf Stouthorn the chivalrous, of the ‘Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ still among the land of the living or has he passed to the Summerlands?”
“I still live,” Sir Stouthorn weakly said from his litter.
The Slave King approached the dying minotaur and knelt before him, “Forgive me for doing this evil thing to you,” he said. “In my anger and wrath I unjustly struck you down.”
Sir Stouthorn looked up at the Slave King and smiled, at peace with his fate. “That you recognize your actions as evil and seek forgiveness,” he said, laying his left hand on the Lord of the Earth’s shoulder. “For that I forgive you, may this lesson stay with you always. May your judgments be just, disposition be kind, and may all be glad to call you friend.”
The Slave King stood up, “Allow me to grant you a reward at least,” he said. “Though I am weakened now, I shall make for you an island on the Western Sea baring your image when I’m renewed. Allow your bones to rest there and it will stand as a testament to all until Equestria is no more.”
“What of the pup?” Sir Stouthorn asked.
“Yes the pup,” the Slave King agreed turning towards Shanks. “Shanks of clan Gem Biter, I hereby strip you of all titles and holdings in the Diamond Vale. I banish you from the Domain of Earth, never to return. Your clan is no more, and neither you nor your descendants shall find a place in these lands. Be gone from my sight, oh clanless one.”
“How could you?” Shaw demanded, pointing a talon towards the Slave King.
“I did the only thing I could do to spare the pup’s life,” the Slave King replied. “Without clan ties he’s no longer a Gem Biter, and thus my oath to utterly destroy the Gem Biter clan has finally been completed.”
“No Shaw, he’s right,” Sir Stouthorn said, “now Shanks is freed from the Slave King’s blood oath.”
Shanks looked down sadly and howled once before dropping his head. “Me understand not-Darkpaw,” Shanks said holding back his tears, “my clan bad dogs.”
“Shanks,” Princess Celestia said, looking down at the diamond dog pup with compassion. “You will always have a place in Londwhinium. I believe we need an ambassador to represent us before the Domain of Earth.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to that appointment,” the Slave King said.
“Then it’s settled,” Princess Celestia said, “Shanks would you be my ambassador?”
Shanks looked unsure and looked towards Clover, “Day Princess,” he said, “me thank you for offer, but Clover my bestest friend in whole world. Me never leave his side.”
“Well then that settles it,” Princess Celestia said, giving Clover a thoughtful look. “Clover the Clever, would you do me a favor and agree to become my new regent?”
Luna’s eyes bugged out when she heard the offer. “Mine sister,” she said, “art thou quite sure? The noble families shall surely protest this decision most bitterly.”
“Luna the beautiful, if you need an excuse to make up for your timidity when dealing with your mortal subjects,” the Slave King said with a wry smile. “I suggest telling them it was part of your peace negotiations with the Domain of Earth. If they are unhappy, advise them to take the matter up with me.”
Princess Luna frowned a moment before giving the Slave King an appraising look, “Verily, thou art most shrewd for a hairless ape,” she said.
“If you say so Your Majesty,” the Slave King replied with a soft smile, before placing the six gems he had recovered next to the armor and anklets.
“Arch Duke Fifi le Yipyap,” the Slave King called out.
“Yes my king what is your desire?” the arch duke replied, with a low bow.
“Secure these treasures until my return,” the Slave King commanded.
"As you wish oh great one,” the arch duke said.
“Regent Clover, will you be alright if we leave you here?” Princess Celestia asked.
“Yes I think so,” Clover said, “Princess Luna said that Sir Stouthorn shouldn’t be moved in his present condition.
“Scourge,” the Slave King said, “see that they are made comfortable, and that the others behave themselves.”
“What of the moot?” Scourge asked, concerned for his master’s wellbeing. “You’re injured, and the rest of the pantheon must be holding a grudge against you.”
“Scourge, thank you for your concern but I’ll be fine,” the Slave King said, pointing towards The Vendetta. “The rest of the pantheon dare not make their demands too egregious while I possess the key to their demise.”
“After all that hast transpired, thou still portend violence?” Princess Luna said, incensed that everything the Slave King had just said had been insincere.
“Luna the beautiful,” the Slave king said, pointing The Vendetta at her, “you should appreciate how vulnerable I am. My strength is nearly spent, and my wounds are great. Should the rest of the pantheon choose to slay me there’s nothing I could do to stop them.”
“Slave King,” Princess Celestia said, “I swear by the moot nopony will make any attempt against you.”
“Celestia the Radiant, I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” the Slave King replied, looking down at The Vendetta. “Lord Triton and Lord Cerynitis at the very least will want all sorts of concessions, and that’s nothing to say of what Lord Ouroboros might demand. Coincidentally can I expect you to be discreet regarding our earlier discussion?”
Celestia furrowed her brow in annoyance at the Slave King’s obstinacy, but after a moment smiled gently and nodded. “I promise not to tell a soul,” she said, looking at him in curiosity.
“Celestia the radiant, you have my gratitude for the part you played,” the Slave King said, reaching into the Earth to draw off enough power to see him to the moot.
“Will either of my wives care to accompany me to the moot?” the Slave King asked, holding out his left hand.
“Dost thou still playest at that game?” Princess Luna asked, looking bemused at her supposed husband.
“Well after all wife, we still have appearances to keep,” the Slave King said, waiting for the princesses to join his escort.
“Husband I would be delighted to,” Princess Celestia said, trotting over to join his side.
“Betwixt mine sister’s practical jokes and thy teasing, mine husband,” Princess Luna said, walking towards him, “erelong we shalt surely loose our wood.”
“Oh Luna,” Princess Celestia said rolling her eyes, “there’s no need to be so dramatic. It was only a few feathers.”
“Only a few!” Princess Luna replied, as the Slave King formed a portal to the Well of Eternity. “Methinks we canst still feel them lodged in our nose.”
“Surely this marriage was one taken in haste,” the Slave King remarked to himself, as he looked at both of his bickering brides.
Princess Celestia gave her sister a teasing smirk, before the portal enveloped the three deities and sent them on their way to the moot.
“The Slave King married?” Scourge asked the arch duke questioningly. “And to both princesses no less, I must have been away an awfully long time.”
“No it’s only been about three days,” the arch duke replied with a shrug.
Author's Notes
Once again gentlereader thank you for reading The Great Slave King. As always comments critiques and genteel banter are always welcomed in the comments.
I know I promised this would be the second to last chapter, but I determined the moot needed it's own chapter. So the final chapter will be posted tomorrow with the epilogue to follow.
I felt rather conflicted about writing this chapter, on the one hoof its what the story was coming to on the other hoof I can't help but feel a sense of loss knowing the adventure is finally coming to an end. Hopefully gentlereader I met or even exceeded your expectations. I know the actions of this chapter might be considered controversial especially to those of you who felt strongly about certain characters. If you are disappointed with how I ended this chapter, I just hope like Sir Stouthorn you can forgive me.
Additionally please forgive the weak joke I tried to close the chapter on. I had originally wanted to end the chapter with a joke about how fast the princesses were but couldn't think of anything.
Two parts of this chapter really stand out to me. First was the mingling of the Slave King's memories and fight with Clover's friends. As I reread it I think I really captured the disjointed reality that the Slave King was experiencing. Hopefully gentlereader you found that to be the case as well. Second was the healing of Slave King. I think I managed to show the inner conflict boiling away in his mind. Intellectually he knew they were dead, but refused to face it.
Well gentlereader it's been a real experience, I look forward to sharing more stories with you in the future. Hopefully you'll continue to read, but if not I thank you for allowing me to share this story with you. Until next time!
That was bloody brilliant. An excellent conclusion to an excellent story. I look forward to the sequel.
after the moot of course, but nevertheless.
1150611 Thank you gentlereader for your kind comments, what did you enjoy the most. Coincidentally you still have the final chapter and epilogue to look forward to.
You continue to amaze and suprise good sir I only hope that the moot isn't weighted too heavily against the King cause I've actually liked him throughout the whole story he's an interesting character.
1150628 And an epilogue! A pleasant surprise.
If I would have to label something as "my favorite" it would be the redemption for the king, finally getting over his tragic life, not knowing about his daughter patiently waiting for him. Delicious, delicious tragic ignorance. I imagine you'll have to deal with that eventually. Perhaps Jormungandr tormenting him with spectral images of his daughter? Perhaps he brings her back? After all, he did manage to do that with scourge.
Whatever Jormungandr's plan, I'm sure it won't disappoint.
Edit: Also, I enjoyed the Irony of Seafoam cutting off the King's arm after the same happened to his master.
it seemed a bit fast in my opinion, but it was good either way.
1150658 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, The moot is the capstone of the plot, where you discover who truly has been pulling the strings. I'm glad you weren't turned off by his emotions. I was worried my readers would be upset that the Slave King finally showing a sliver of human emotion, since his brooding and destructive side seemed to be a fan favorite.
Hopefully you'll read his further adventures in The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King.
1150710 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, what about the chapter did you find too fast for your tastes? I felt that spending too much time on his flashback, madness, and redemption would have diluted the emotive punch I was hoping to relay.
1150796
events seemed to happen to quickly, but that may have been because i am a fast reader. and the breakdown scene could have been longer before scourge showed up.
1150674 An interesting theory gentlereader. I find it interesting you believe Jormungandr the villain. The only reason why Scourge was able to return was because he contains a small piece of the Slave King's divinity within him. as long as the Slave King is still in Equestria so will Scourge. Unfortunately those not bound to the Slave King's spark are unable to return.
I'm so happy that everyone so far have enjoyed the Slave King's redemption. I was worried it might turn some people off since he's been such a emotionless monster up till now.
Yes Seafoam kept his promise to the arch duke, and avenged his master.
1150788 Indeed I look forward to it here have this mylittlefacewhen.com/media/f/img/mlfw5384-RainbowDashclap.gif
1150823 I never said he was a villain, just that he had an over-arcing plan. I had not thought of the fact that scourge was linked to the slave king, I assumed it was the work of Jormungandr, forgive me.
And really, the slave king did not seem that terrible to me. A bit cruel yes, but he was thrust into a position he knew nothing about shortly after losing everything. I believe that justifies his actions in part. Of course, he is obviously not entirely innocent, what with the diamond dog genocide and all that, but in the grand scheme of things, he did relatively little that was more than objectionable.
This story has definitely earned its top spot on my list of all time favorite fanfictions. Bravo. Every single chapter was brilliant and this chapter was no exception. I will concede that while reading the bit about clover using the Vendetta I was filled with horror and dread. This was because I had missed the point that it was an illusion and I thought the story too a turn for the absolute worse; seeing as if that was the conclusion there would be no successive books or chapters. Thank you for not disappointing me once in the entire time I've read this magnificient story.
1150859 Ah my apologies gentlereader, I must have misread what you wrote. But you are correct Jormungandr as the winding one does have an over arching plot for all Equestria. If you know the identity of owner of the grey eyes then you know the truth behind how Scourge was reunited with his master.
1150874 Thank you gentlereader for your comments, I lifted that scene from The Lord of the Rings, namely Samwise the brave's rejection of the One Ring's temptation. I tried playing it up as much as an adolescent male ponies fantasy might entail. I had originally wanted it to seem like Clover had actually ended up killing the Slave King and then reveal it was only a vision, but felt that was an abuse of my reader's trust. My apologies gentlereader if I didn't make it clear enough. There's too many Gary Stu alicorns as it is, and I promise that will be the extent that I ever indulge in that particular direction.
Once again gentlereader thanks for reading, until next time!
1150884 I would imagine it's Jormungandr, watcher of Ygdrassil, the world tree, which if I'm not mistaken, is where his daughter is waiting. Which would mean that he returned to Equestria by the branches of Ygdrassil, unless of course, you use the World-tree only in name, and have changed its function.
Edit: Hold the hell up. Yggdrassil, as in the world tree that connects the realms? that has portals in random locations? That the watcher can see everything through? That has the potential to transport men and gods in between realms? As in, how king got there in the first place? but there are no coincidences, and Jormungandr should be the watcher, so did he bring King into the world, specifically knowing what would happen? Is he even more devious then I imagined?
Edit: Edit:Would that make the well of eternity Memir's well? What even.
The bit where the slave king is fighting and reliving his memorys was good, I knew the winding one (forgot his name) would have parts to play later on, hes a crafty one for sure.
1150959 Yes gentlereader, Little Bleu is waiting under the shade of the spirit of the Yggdrasil. The old grey eyed one is eternally bound to it. While the world tree doesn't physically connect all the domains, those who know the hidden paths like the winding one may move freely between domains. Though the Yggdrasil was destroyed in the first age during the war of the elements, its echos can be found all over Equestria.
Regarding how King came to Equestria and any speculation regarding Jormungandr's part in it, who can know. Perhaps the future will tell.
The Well of Eternity is the birthplace of all creation. When Equestria needed the day, it created Celestia the radiant. When it needed fire to chase away the freezing ice, it spawned Lord Ouroboros the Fire Tyrant. And when it foresaw the end, it ensured the Last would come.
1151319 thank you for your comments gentlereader, Jormungandr the winding one is indeed most crafty, along with his brother Anasazi the spinner, not a secret in Equestria is safe from their notice.
1151451 Ooh, sinister. Anyway, thank you for taking the time to answer my foolish and outlandish questions, and more so, the time to write this fine piece of fanfiction.
1151471 Actually the final chapter is almost done, just need to do some editing on some bits and write the last section. So ask away, the last chapter wont be posted until tomorrow anyways.
1151484 Very well, where did this altogether creative idea come from?
All good things come to an end I suppose, alas I look forward to the sequel, I especially like the change in behavior of the Slave King, while he did turn another page he retained the most important aspects that made his character so great : cunning, intelligence, foreshadowing, and overall an ability reserved only for humans. I await the next chapter with glee. P.S. I have a question, is the severed hand severed from the wrist down, elbow down or shoulder down?
1151468 I still dont know what Jormungandr is getting from this, whether hes was trying to help redeem the slave king all along or whether he was just trying to preserve the balance between the domains and stop Lord Ouroboros from gaining enough to power to overthrow the over Gods/Goddesses/Deitys. Hopefully this will be answered in the following chapters or by your reply if I missed somthing obvious.
1151492 I've been writing fiction of this sort for about fifteen years. Starting with a Sailor Moon fan fiction group I played with. I personally love the mythology rather then the characters of most things. I have been reading MLP:FIM fiction since they first started getting posted, but it always annoyed me they were always rainbow Dash shipping fics and always centered in Ponyville. I know there were some excellent adventure fics in the first year of MLP:FIM fandom, but never enough for my tastes. Then in December I began toying with the idea of perhaps Celestia, Luna, and Discord weren't the only great powers in Equestria. By January I had play with the idea of writing a fic centered around the diamond dogs since no one seemed to give them any attention. When I saw The Ballad of rust the Diamond Dog, I knew I had to write my story and so began trying to figure out the plot of the story i wanted to tell.
In March I took a two week vacation to focus on my writing, and started telling the story of the Slave King. Originally I used myself as the template for the Slave King, as I tried to figure out the human might react to being thrust into an alien environment. Since my last name is King, I realized the slave King was the perfect title. And thus The Slave King was born. Now by no means have I written the Slave King as myself, I just find it easier to imagine how I might react or feel and play off that.
Regarding Clover's Fellowship of friends, Originally the Slave King was going to be the center of the story, I thought perhaps as a wandering vagabond trying to find his place in the world. But realized by him becoming a god that story wouldn't work. So I created Clover the Clever, Scamps the last Gem Biter, Sir Stouthorn the chivalrous, Seafoam his page, Shaw the irritable, Showboat the scoundrel, and Slick the con as a way to still tell that story. Of course I left a lot of the plot threads free to use as I went along. The story I wanted to tell was about the essence of friendship, and I think on this point I succeeded with the interactions between the characters. Though the next book will focus on more of a romantic comedy, hopefully I'll be able to pull it off. As someone who's been described as cold as serpent, we'll have to see how that goes.
Hopefully gentlereader this answered your question. Until next time!
When I originally clicked on this story I expected it to be like just the rest. My good sir, you have blown my expectations away with this story! And for that, I thank you.
1151545 Thank you for your comments gentlereader. The Slave King's arm was cut near his shoulder just like Sir Stouthorn. Hopefully the Slave King will remember Sir Stouthorn's lesson May your judgments be just, disposition be kind, and may all be glad to call you friend. Well the slave King certainly did retain all that made him, him. I think you'll really enjoy the final chapter. The Slave King come to terms with the rest of the pantheon, and finally lays his family to rest.
1151620 It did. That was a far more in depth response than I expected. I look forward to the Slave King's awkward romantic interactions.
1151583 I think Jormungandr said it best when Clover asked him the exact same question. Because like your princesses, I also love you. In the final chapter the entire plot will be revealed. I was purposefully obtuse with this aspect of the plot, but once you've read the last chapter you'll see where I was coming from.
1151653 Thank you for your comments gentlereader. That my story was able to entertain you, to bring you some small joy is the reason I write. And if I somehow manage to light the fires of your imagination, than I thank you for allowing my story to serve its purpose. I have another story you might enjoy The Conversion Bureau: The Reluctant Cyborg a story about an out of work homicidal war machine, and his adventure guarding a conversion bureau.
1151666 more hopefully is that he will create a faux limb, something akin to plasma ex: the Vendeta to replace his lost limb. More importantly since my memory fails me does his victory against that obnoxious dragon, grant him the realm of fire as his prize? A foolish action I must say leaving the dragon alive.
1151748 No the Slave King never even fought against Lord Ouroboros. He even took steps to ensure that the Fire Tyrant would survive his ordeal. The stakes of the fight were for the Slave King to get his talisman baring the remains of his family back. Lord Ouroboros was planning on devouring the Slave King and claiming the Domain of Earth as his prize as the first step towards total dominion over all the Prime Elements and the rest of Equestria.
The Slave King holds mastery over all in the Earth including metal. He may at some point in the future decide to create a replacement arm for himself. But I think for now he wishes to keep the injury as a reminder to himself of what he had done.
Lord Ouroboros lies injured, weak, and defeated. It will be a long time before he can manage to pose any significant threat to the Slave King again. Besides with Lord Ouroboros to fight the winter, all Equestria would eventually become a frozen wasteland.
His tears formed the jewels that created the EOH? Interesting.
So if the seapony had struck down the god...what would have happened? Massive explosion or the Slave King just drops dead?
Oh no my favorite story on this site is almost over
Oh well can't wait to see how this all ends and then there is a second story to look forward to!
1151896 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, who knows perhaps Seafoam would have taken up the Slave King's crown as his own while The Vendetta whispered its sweet lullaby of madness and destruction in his ear. Perhaps the pantheon one by one would fall as he fell deeper and deeper under its influence. Always demanding more and more blood, to quench its never ending thirst.
1151935 Thank you for your comments gentlereader. Alas every thing under creation has both a beginning and an end. And while we may not have any new adventures with this story, we can always remember and think back on the sweet memories. It's true what they say passing is such sweet sorrow. But with the setting of the sun each day we are promised the sun rise the next day. Thank you for reading gentlereader. Until next time!
I cried through that entire chapter, while this song played in my head.
Storylogically, this made perfect sense, it was just... very painful to read.
1151958
With the Slave King's heart in the pool I was wondering if Seafoam could kill him.
Placing The Vendetta in his left hand, he raised it against his throat and pictured a large frost covered sword in his mind. A frost covered sword you say?
Did it look like this?
images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb58378/wowwiki/images/a/ab/Frostmourne.jpg
1152766 Technically The Vendetta can become what ever its wielder envisions it as, so yes it could have looked like the Frostmourne.
Very beautifully done, I know of nothing else to say beyond the fact that I have monstrous desire for the sequel and next chapters.
1152684 The Slave King couldn't have picked a safer place for his heart. The moment anyone enters the chamber a moot is called. Only the very lucky or unlucky would ever find it. Any mortal that might touch the waters would find themselves becoming changed. Under the laws of the creation during a moot any that harms another will loose their life, which is why Lord Darkpaw lost his. Perhaps his heart will beat inside the Well of Eternity until the end, or perhaps he might loose his life to another. The Slave King was aware of that possibility, which is why in chapter 6 The Godslayers Punishment he told Celestia "Whether by luck, fate, or destiny, that I came to place,” he said, “let it remain. If I perish, I perish."
1153138 In truth I always pictured the slave king as the lich king without the ice.
1152487 Thank you gentlereader for your comments. Truth be told I could feel my eyes water and heart burn as I wrote parts of the chapter. I believe I poured the most emotion into the paragraph where The Slave King was being comforted by Princess Celestia.I wonder if the cardinal rule of writers is that you never cry to your own emotional stories, just like if you write clop you should never clop to what you write. Thank you for sharing your experience, it means a lot to me you would share how the story touched you. Until next time gentlereader.
1153197 I always actually preferred Arthus to the Liche King, although his story was cool in Warcraft 3. The Slave King pretty much only wears his heavy Iron crown, his cloak of Darkpaw, and his slave rags. Beneath his crown his hair and beard has grown tangled and wild, like an untamed thicket.His hair once as black as the river Styx, is streaked grey and white. Perhaps now that hes whole he see a tailor, or at least a barber.
1153183 Thank you gentlereader for your comments, knowing you enjoyed the story is all the thanks I need. Anything about the chapter in particular you like the most or was the most memorial to you?
a story must have an end, if not then it isnt worth reading
1153381 Thank you for your comments gentlereader. Just like all stories have their end, so must all comments have a reply. Anything you particularly enjoyed about the chapter?
1153138 You didn't explain how grey eyes is involved. You said I'd find out today. Yes I know you told me who grey eyes is I don't wanna spoil it for the reader. ( You will not see it coming lol ) could you pm me on how he is involved cause I think I might have missed something there.
1153439 Ah, ah, ah, you trying to get a sneak peak from me gentlereader? Trust me you'll find out when its posted tomorrow, in the final chapter. Actually one of the readers actually almost hit the plot on the head. in the comments already, but I won't tell cause that would be cheating. So unless you can figure it out you'll have to wait to read it tomorrow,
1153402 one armed slave king, real name andrew, and he be pimpin