• Published 8th Sep 2012
  • 3,164 Views, 343 Comments

Starlit Knights - BlackRoseRaven



Darkness has come to Equestria, and the world is threatened with destruction. Can Luna stop it?

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Interlude I: From The Pen Of Scrivener Blooms

Interlude I: From The Pen Of Scrivener Blooms
~BlackRoseRaven


Mercykiller
Scrivener Blooms


The fabled Jabberwock may den in the marsh-invaded forest,
In brillig wastes it lies in wait, burbling its warning to the skies.
In mimsy borogroves, the Bandersnatch lurks, with Jubjub bird on high,
Opportunists of the tulgey wood, predators in the wild.

But what wild beast can compare to the fearsome mechanical volk?
With vorpal claws that rend and rip, and diamond-toothed hungry jaws.
The volk tick-tocks like a pocket-watch, its eyes glow without soul,
And in its head I fear and dread what calculations ever grow.

Snicker-snack! Off with the prey’s heads!
The volk howls, gleeful in its violence.
This automaton dreams of electric sheep,
So it may hunt them, hurt them, grind them.

How can you kill what may never have lived?
The mechanical volk has no heart, no soul.
It thrives on the fight, the battle, the hunt,
How could battle bring such a foe low?

The volk believes itself to have no flaw, perfect in its design,
Implemented who knows how long ago, to prey upon the helpless wilds,
But the bloody crimson queen who birthed this beast forgot one thing,
Without a heart, without a soul, the volk could not see the ivory king.

The volk was only clockwork, a puppet pulled on hungry strings,
It hunted because that was what it was taught, washed in evil from the start.
A machine made to believe that killing would fill up the void of its heart,
No matter how the ivory king tried to fence the volk out of the dark.

And finally, machinery-gone-mad turned upon its own,
Rabid with blood, gears clogged with meat,
A metal body that could not suffer disease, but a mind without a heart,
The perfect lack of balance for insanity to start.

The ivory king knew he had no choice,
There was only one way to save the volk.
Invisible to the predator, he paced his way around,
And found the volk’s last victim, laying on the ground.

He helped her up, up to her hooves,
He gave her his gentle blessing,
And when the volk spun ‘round again,
She faced it without any misgivings.

Without needing to be told, without needing to be asked,
She gave the volk the one thing that it could not abide.
She gave it the mercy it did not deserve, as tears fell down her cheeks,
She gave it love, this machine made of metal plates and homicide.

The clockwork mind, greased by blood and slime, stuttered as it seized,
It opened its jaws to bark and howl but could not manage even a squeak.
Mercy, love and kindness were alien concepts to this sadistic beast,
The honest sorrow in the prey’s eyes damaged it more than could be believed.

For it was mercy that slew the predator,
As beauty maims the savage beast.
It was kindness that smote it to its hollow soul,
And brought the hunter unto its knees.

No predator was ever feared more than the blood-rusted volk,
But all the same, ivory king and young prey blessed it as it froze,
Hoping that it would find some way to light, a beating heart, a feeling soul,
And never would it prey upon the helpless anymore.

The fabled Jabberwock may den in the marsh-invaded forest,
In brillig wastes it lies in wait, burbling its warning to the skies.
In mimsy borogroves, the Bandersnatch lurks, with Jubjub bird on high,
Opportunists of the tulgey wood, seekers in the wild they stay.