A Royal Pain.
Edits done by Vates Despero and Clayton the Hunter.
And a special thanks to AnonymousMaterials for allowing me the use of his character, Mort.
A Royal Pain.
<<>><<>><<>>
Rainbow Blaze's wings were a blur as he and his squad followed after the hostile cybernetic ghost, refusing to allow him to escape. First and foremost in order to make sure this dangerous entity didn't hurt anypony else. And secondly…
Rainbow's eyes narrowed as he focused on the last thing Skulker said to him, before flying off: 'All bark, but no bite… I'm done wasting my time with you.'
Rainbow had taken his shameful defeat personally. He would not allow that to stand. He would face this abomination once more, and beat him down with his own four hooves.
If only it hadn't taken so long to free himself from the sticky goop Skulker had shot at him. His eyes narrowed even further as he stared down at the city below; the dark orange glow of the setting sun reflecting off his flight goggles.
<<>><<>><<>>
The sun was setting, and twilight began to cover the streets, giving the already desolate and eerie city an even more ghostly aura.
"Is it safe?" Scoot Blaze asked her husband, who in turn was peeking through one of the windows.
"Doubt it," he muttered in response, slowly moving back. "Haven't seen any of those freaks, but they're bound to be out there," he continued as he turned to look at the three ponies with him. "How's he doing?"
"Could -ugh-,could be worse," Apple Gleam forced through a pained grunt, having only awoken a short hour ago.
"An' it could be better. A whole lot better," Sweet Apple interjected, working to secure her husband's leg with some of the materials they found lying around the arcane store.
It had become clear to them that this was most likely a Zebra's shop, if the ancient tribal masks and obscure potions were any indication. Despite getting a fright every now and then when they ran into one of the masks, nothing else was found that could have been of any use to them. Sweet Apple had rummaged through the potions for a while, knowing all too well about the zebras' understanding of natural remedies for all kinds of ailments, yet only finding what proved to be a pain killer of sorts. And one that's numbing effects had diminished over time, as this place showed signs of neglect, having accumulated several years worth of dust.
Whoever had owned this place had left long ago.
Still, they were able to use some of the junk lying around to craft a makeshift splint for Gleam, and Sweet Apple was currently in the process of securing her husband's leg, aided by Scoot Blaze.
"So, what do we do now?" Scoot asked after a moment.
"Think you can run?" Sky Rider asked Apple Gleam, frowning.
"No, he w—" Sweet Apple started to reply, when Apple Gleam interrupted.
"Yes. Don't worry none, Ah'll keep up," he replied with his usual hardheaded stubbornness.
"Gleam!" his wife shot back in worry and irritation. "Ya cain't strain yerself like that. Ya been unconscious fer several hours on accounta yer injury."
"Exactly," he replied irritably, not liking that he had passed out, leaving his wife to fend for them both. "So Ah'm well rested ta take on anythang them... things try an' throw at us."
"Gleam!" Sweet Apple said again.
"Sweet, don't worry. Ah've been through worse, and Ah'll sure 'nough live through this as well," Gleam told her reassuringly, and his wife, wide eyed, gave a single slow nod.
Yet one thought haunted her mind as he looked at her.
'Gleam, ya've always been a bad liar.'
<<>><<>><<>>
They moved slowly through the back alleys, avoiding any main roads. They had been trying to stay under the radar ever since they had escaped their near death through means they didn't understand, although Pinkie was adamant in her belief that the baby alligator she had picked up in the pet store was the one who had saved them.
They deliberately kept their pace slow. Though this was mostly due to Granny Pie, who wasn't as quick on her hooves as she used to be.
Pinkie Pie led the group with her newest, bestest friend, the toothless alligator sitting snuggly in her bouncy mane. His unblinking eyes, seemingly unmoving and staring into nothing, scanned the immediate surroundings incessantly.
Maud, already affected by the events that had transpired since the tear opened and let the ghosts into the city, had taken her brush with death the hardest out of all of them, and thus kept close to her grandmother. Her eyes were wide, anxiously peering at her surroundings to check for anything that might be lurking in the shadows. She tried to keep a strong face for her family, not wanting her fear to affect the others as well.
Her grandmother wasn’t fooled by her performance, however. After raising several foals, she could tell when somepony was hiding something, and she worried greatly for her eldest granddaughter.
"Come on, dear. It isn't far now," she told Maud, reassuringly.
"Yeah, big sis," Pinkie Pie piped up, smiling and bouncing behind Maud, "you don't have to be afraid anymore. Our new friend will protect us, so turn that frown upside down."
"Pinkie…" Granny Pie started, only to come to a startling realization. Eyes widening, her head snapped around to see if Pinkie was still walking up front, only to see the small alligator sitting on top of a trashcan, staring towards the exit of the alley. "Wha… How did you get behind us, deary?"
"Oh, I walked."
"You... walked?" Granny Pie repeated, confused by Pinkie’s response. Her bewilderment soon spread to Pinkie as well.
Pinkie stopped hopping mid-bounce, hanging in the air for a moment before dropping down to the ground, a hoof pressed against her chin as she pondered her own answer. "Huh, yeah. That is weird. I could have just bounced… Oh well. Guess I'll just have to put an extra extra spring in my step from now on to make up for it," she concluded, much to the confusion of her grandmother and sister. "Now, come on sis, we're almost there!" Pinkie exclaimed as she bounced away, scooping her new friend from the trashcan and placing him back in her mane.
"That filly," Granny Pie muttered, disbelievingly, before turning her attention back towards Maud and placing a comforting hoof on her withers. "But she's right. I know things may look bad, but we'll be alright. You'll see," she said, giving her frightened grandchild a caring smile. "Now, come. It isn't much farther now. Just a little bit longer."
Nodding her head, Maud forced herself back into motion, following her grandmother and sister's lead.
'Why am I so terrified?' she asked herself, looking at Pinkie. 'Earlier, Pinkie was the one who was afraid, and I was the one who lead the way. But now, everything’s different,' she thought as her gaze dropped down to the ground. 'Now Pinkie is the brave one, while I could barely move.' The tiniest of sighs escaped Maud's lips. 'Pinkie, Grandma. They're strong, just like the rocks that mom and dad grow on the farm. While I'm weak, like a tiny sedimentary pebble about to meet a sledgehammer. I’m like gravel; just falling apart under pressure.' Her gaze wandered up to her younger sister once more, watching her face the unknown with a confident smile.
'I need to be strong like Pinkie. Strong and sturdy, like a rock.'
<<>><<>><<>>
The wind howled past her, her mane, normally billowing in an unfelt breeze, now whipped around wildly as her wings pushed her forward with ever increasing speed; a golden contrail in her wake.
She had to hurry, this much had become abundantly clear after even the Wonderbolts failed to report in. The fact that an unknown force managed to stop her mid-teleport only increased the worry she felt. So much so that she didn’t stop even when she had to lower the sun and usher in the night. It took a lot of effort, and the sun's path was more than a little wobbly, but she managed.
Her eyes, covered in the golden glow of her magic to protect them from the cutting wind while also enhancing her vision in the darkening sky, narrowed as she began to see the first shapes of the tall buildings which her destination was known for. Though the skyline was marred by several large columns of smoke rising high above the city.
"By Luna's grace…" she breathed as the devastation slowly became clearer to her.
'Whoever, or whatever, has done this will pay dearly,' she thought, pushing herself to go even faster. 'Just hold on, my little ponies. I'll be there soon.'
<<>><<>><<>>
Mort moved through the streets, his hollow eyes observing the devastation all around him. For the umpteenth time that day his non-existent lungs released a weary sigh.
As the embodiment of death, he had seen his fair share of the passing of souls, and was more than used to the more... messy demises. Although 'used' wouldn't be the correct word here.
For eons, he had watched over the ponies, watching them evolve and grow from mere primitive animals, and had grown with them through the passing of time. Throughout the ages, he watched from the shadows, always present when one's life would come to an end.
During the first few hundred millennia the numbers were high. The world was untamed and harsh, claiming many as they discovered, explored, and learned. Then the ponies discovered the magic of their world, and used it to tame the lands and skies around them. Life flourished, and death could rest, even if only for a short while. Life might grow more resilient, but never invincible. He still needed to traverse the world, gathering the souls of those that passed, but the numbers had dwindled to those taken by age or disease.
Then there were those times when the many species who called this world their home first encountered each other. More often than not, the differences between cultures sparked conflict rather than peace.
The greed of the dragons. The warrior mentality among the griffins. The simple minded, but territorial, urges of the diamond dogs. The racial conflict among pony kind. And many others.
Of course there were those who would declare themselves better than those others, if it wasn't for the heavy blow fate dealt them. Still, for a time the changelings were superior among the species. Their ability to take the form of others, and sense the emotions of those around them made them more peaceful than the other species. But even with their gifts and abilities, they still weren’t able to stop the inevitable clash between the other cultures.
Wars were fought, lives were lost, and Death's rest came to an end. Once more hurrying from one soul to the next, reaping them, and guiding them as they made their choice.
In time, the different species came to an understanding between each other. Racial tensions diminished, and the illusion of peace returned once more.
Settlements were built, which then expanded into villages soon after, and perhaps grow to become cities. Their minds grew, expanded by the knowledge they shared with each other, and Death could rest once more.
But then the corruption entered the world.
It roamed around for some time. How long, even Mort didn't know, but eventually, it found what it was looking for. A suitable individual to act as a vessel. Someone to infect. Someone touched by the essence of death, yet still among the living.
Death's rest ended once more. The destruction brought by the darkness was impossible to comprehend. The deaths were numerous and too gruesome to describe. And what happened to the changelings still made Mort's old bones shake in horror.
He ran into the changelings reaper numerous times in those days, but they never had a moment to talk or catch their breath. To this day the changelings hadn't recovered from that devastating blow. Not through any lack of their own efforts, but through the mistakes and misunderstandings of others.
Eventually the corruption was stopped, and Death wandered the blood-soaked ground trying to comprehend; trying to understand how this was even possible. The barrier around the world should've made such an incursion all but impossible. And only those allowed could leave and enter.
But now, looking around, Mort knew that the barrier had lost its protective power, forever. The destruction of the backdoor, one of the very few portals still leading to this world, and the subsequent rips in reality that formed between Equestria and Earth had allowed many horrors entry to this world once more.
A loud scream shook Mort out of his downward mental spiral, and he beheld a peculiar sight.
Running past him was a young, azure filly, wearing a star printed cape and pointed hat, both a bit too large for her frame, forcing her to use her unsteady magic to keep the hat on her head.
She screamed once again, and the source of her distress revealed itself to Mort as the... thing that was chasing her came around the corner.
"..."
"Is that a wheel?" Mort asked dumbly, watching the obviously possessed wheel roll and bounce around; crashing through windows, and leaving skidmarks on the ground in its pursuit of the terrified child.
"Leave Trixie alone!" she screamed, almost tripping over her cape. "Aaahh... I hate you! Trixie hates wheels!" she decreed as she jumped into a nearby trashcan in an attempt to hide from the circular horror.
Mort stood in silence, eyes wide in confusion, until the grinding of gravel near him brought his attention to the wooden carriage wheel, slowly rolling towards the filly's hiding spot like a predator stalking its prey.
Mort's gaze shifted between the hidden filly and the wheel. He needed to intervene, and fast!
"No!" he cried, and he flowed into motion. Thanasia would have his head, but he couldn't take it anymore. "NO!" he shouted, raising his scythe high in the pale glow of his magic; his voice drawing the wicked wheel's attention, it finally noticed the reaper as he materialized before it. It barely had any time to react as Mort's scythe cut through the wheel as if it was made of wet paper. A sickening glow surrounded the wooden construct, before a pained, haunted wail escaped from it.
A twisted, broken form rose from the wheel, unrecognizable, and it wailed once again, before being grabbed by Mort's magic.
"Your soul was lost long before I destroyed you," Mort told the shattered entity, before opening a small portal with his scythe. "Now you will join the rest, trapped forever between the planes of existence," and with his part words said, he released the lost soul into the portal, sending it on its way to the Ghost Zone. "... I'm sorry," he added, disgusted by his own actions, but unable to stand by any longer.
"... It's safe to come out now," he called out to the filly. "Go and find a safe place to hide," he said, and vanished just in time for the filly to miss him as her head poked out of the trashcan.
"Who's there? Who said that?" Trixie asked in a frightened voice, looking around and seeing the broken wheel lying on the ground. "Trixie demands you show yourself!" she demanded, but to no avail. Feeling that she was safe for the moment, she clumsily climbed out of the trashcan, shaking off the filth clinging to her coat, and ran off. But just before she turned the corner and left this place behind, she stopped, looked back, and whispered a soft: "Thank you."
<<>><<>><<>>
Night was slowly claiming the lands, the first stars already visible, as Soarin and Spitfire flew through the abandoned streets, with only the occasional scream or wail to fill the otherwise eerie and unnatural silence. Flying in front of them, Rainbow Blaze scanned the immediate surroundings, trying to find his target. The fact that night approached was not slowing him in the slightest. While anyone else would bunker down, and pray to Celestia, hoping to survive through the night, Rainbow Blaze saw the darkening of the sky as an opportunity.
They knew from previous encounters that the ghostly entities' eyes glowed in the dark, which would help the group spot them much easier and avoid them in order to maintain the advantage of cover in the darkness.
Still, this did nothing to ease the nerves of either Soarin or Spitfire. They were both well acquainted with Blaze's reputation. A tough, hardheaded fighter. Loyal to boot, and never letting his team down. But when his pride was on the line, he had a tendency to lose sight of the objective.
Of course, this didn't happen often. His training allowed him to keep his cool under even the toughest of challenges. But his fight with Skulker, first sustaining several injuries while seemingly not even able to scratch his opponent, combined with Skulker leaving the fight after deeming Rainbow Blaze unworthy of his time, that was something he couldn't ignore.
And even though Soarin and Spitfire had voiced their doubts about their captain's current course of action, they also knew their duty was to protect the citizens of the city; especially now, as those imprisoned in this city would try to find a safe place to hide, and potentially fight each other over the safest places.
They needed to protect everyone from both the ghosts, and from themselves.
Glaring down, scanning every street and alley they passed, Rainbow Blaze came to a sudden stop as he spotted a bulky figure hovering near a side street. The fiend seemed to be busy working on some kind of gadget built into his arm, and was clearly interested in an obscure store located a bit further ahead.
"Found you," Rainbow Blaze growled as he dived down at max speed. "You're not getting away this time."
To his shock, however, his opponent merely glanced at him over his shoulder. A cold shudder traveled down his spine upon noticing the cold grin plastered on the ghost's face. And, pushing a button on his arm, the hunter's trap deployed.
Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and Blaze could hear the mechanical whirr of several small devices activating. Small constructs, their purpose unknown, placed on the walls of the buildings around him, locked onto him.
He was vaguely aware of Soarin and Spitfire shouting for him, yet their words didn't register as the small machines, made of a shining metal similar to the hunter ghost himself and with a protrusion shaped roughly like a three pronged fork, with significantly wider outer prongs feeding into a longer central focus, began to glow a sickly green. Then, in a split second in which time seemed to move faster than physically possible, a multitude of highly charged beams struck the pegasus, burning through his fur and skin; the air rushing out of his lungs in a tortured wail.
His smoking form dropped down to the ground; watched by the horrified eyes of his team, and the victorious, but dead eyes of Skulker.
The last thing Rainbow Blaze saw before darkness consumed him, was Skulker approaching him; a massive blade sliding out of his wrist.
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"Yer just lucky yer a dynamo in tha sack."
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Vates: "Everything changed when the Corruption attacked?"
Power: "Only the halfa, the bridge between existence, could stop it. But when the world needed him most, he disappeared."
Vates: "... DAMNIT!! That actually fits here! You have taken my off topic reference and brought it back on point, touche."
Say that after the invasion bone head.
Awesome chapter.
Have to say now i'm looking forward to when Dash meet's Skulker. What will she do when faced with her fathers killer?
6469104 ... Who said Rainbow Blaze is dead?...
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And who said he isn't?