Happy New Year everyone! How about some story progress? · 6:41pm Jan 1st, 2019
So, finally, it's here! One of the most trying years for many of us is at last concluded, and I wake today to a cold, clear and sunny first day of 2019. Really, really hope that's an omen of things finally changing for the better cause I daresay we all need it.
Regardless, a new year means times for new resolutions, and for me, it's obvious one of those resolutions needs to be getting back to my stories. It's been no small challenge trying to balance work with creativity (while I've managed to find a new position that, I'm told, is at least secure until the start of the next fiscal year, it's not really paying enough to cover my bills so I've had keep looking for either a second job or an additional source of income), but slowly I'm finding the rhythm. And the Christmas break further helped me regain my motivation in getting something down so here we are:
Would love everyone's opinions on how the Nito x Rotten battle in particular reads from this excerpt. Several readers gave me quite a lot to chew over in the comments to the last chapter. It's only right that I try to take as much of your suggestions on board as I can and incorporate them into the work. 
Rarity grit her teeth, fearfully aware of how many seconds away she likely was from death. Her hoof remained hesitantly pressed against the dry, brittle black flesh of an infested barbarian’s stomach, which in turn had given the bloated, hulking monstrosity cause to halt in its effort to smash the bothersome unicorn with the giant boulder held over its head.
Even as she felt the heat of her newly learned pyromancy successfully spread from her hoof and infuse itself into the barbarian’s being, Rarity remained convinced this was to be her end. She’d given it a good run, having survived a not inconsiderable number of Lordran’s horrors, but now she’d officially pushed her luck too far. All the damned barbarian had to do was lower its arms and gravity would finish the job for it.
Silently, Rarity made peace with her demise, telling herself she’d done all she could with her life. As the seconds ticked down, she consoled herself that at least she’d not leave Spike hanging on where she stood in regards to his feelings, nor would anyone dare to say she died a coward.
The seconds continued to pass without issue. Rarity shivered and braced herself for the inevitable pain of several hundred pounds of solid rock reducing her body to bloody batter. She just hoped it’d be over quickly.
The barbarian retreated, stepping back by several paces to leave Rarity shakily holding her hoof out to thin air. Still the unicorn held her pose of grim acceptance, only finally daring to open her eyes when she picked up on the sound of clapping.
“Very good, my student. A most acceptable attempt.” Quelana’s voice cut through Rarity’s apprehension like a knife, leaving her to wobble crazily as all tension, fear, and strength departed from her muscles. The unicorn keeled over to faceplant in the sticky webbing covering the shoreline.
“Mmmph...ergh...uhhh...oh Faust...EEEEWWWWW!” Rarity moaned as the revulsion of her situation did the job of giving her a needed second wind. She pulled herself out of the ground, frantically grinding her hooves across her face to tear the webbing off. “Oooh...okay...what...what just happened?”
She looked up at the barbarian again, finding it staring blankly at her with the boulder still held at the ready over its head. Fear again gripped the unicorn as she waited for it to do as its body was poised to, only for it to defy her expectation.
“You cast the Undead Rapport with sufficient focus. The lure of your flame has now made an ally of your enemy.” Quelana said while stepping up onto the shore. Rarity blinked as she studied the barbarian, noticing its eyes now burned with a brilliant white aura she was sure hadn’t been there previously.
“I...I did...?” She dryly coughed as the barbarian broke its gaze, distracted by the impact of another enormous boulder hitting it from behind. A lifeless groan echoed from the barbarian’s mouth as it turned to see one of its counterparts along the shore, pulling another boulder up from the ground with clear intent to take up the duty its partner had shamefully decided to slack off on.
Said partner duly showed its displeasure by turning to charge at the other barbarian, bringing its boulder down on the second one’s head then proceeding to repeat the action again and again.
“So I did...well...praise Faust for that.” Rarity muttered, looking in revulsion at the carnage. Even if it was now thankfully being directed at someone other than herself, the unicorn still felt the brutality of her new ally rhythmically beating its own fellow being into paste was a bit extreme. Of course, at this point, with all she’d done to the other enemies she’d encountered throughout Lordran, who was she to judge?
***
“You really don’t have a single proper mirror anywhere in this place?” Pinkie Pie asked in dismay as Seath conjured a mass of finely polished, reflective crystal with his breath. “I mean, I know the inability to do raytracing usually makes it a waste of resources for most games, but they couldn’t have just gone with the usual workaround of adding another tile set with reversed images on the other side of the scenery?”
Once more Seath had to look at the pink mare and wonder just what whatever power that spawned her was thinking when it did so, right before he consoled himself that even in his worst moments of deranged insanity, at least he still had more wits than she did.
“Mirrors art a danger not to be taken lightly. They grant visions of things far worse than the bitter truth of one’s self, and should one not respect what they see, then they may find themselves visited by beings of a most deadly nature whence the mirror grants passage.” The dragon darkly cautioned, much to Twilight’s confusion. “For the practical needs of mineself, as I had not the sight that was granted to me when first I was delivered unto thine realm, there was little use in keeping such worthless artifacts within these walls.”
Pinkie furrowed her brow in more confusion.
“But then...how do you dress yourself each morning? Or brush your teeth? Or groom yourself after a bath?” She asked, thus making Seath ponder if she was even thinking about her words given it was obvious that none of the mentioned tasks had ever been part of his daily routine.
“I hath managed, as hath my channelers.” He finally muttered, stepping away from the crystal face. “Will at least this proveth a sufficient alternative?”
Pinkie approached the crystal and stared into its reflective surface. A ghostly replica of herself stared back from the depths of the flawless purple toned lattice, which the mare decided was probably fitting, given what she hoped to accomplish.
“Yeah it’ll do. Thank you and...well...” Pinkie coughed uneasily as she turned to Twilight. “Wish me luck. I feel like I know what’s going to happen, but at the same time, this is the one thing I’ve feared most in my entire life...well, maybe aside from having to one day face Maude in a skating competition.”
Pinkie paused as she detected Twilight and Seath’s bewildered expressions.
“What? Have you seen the way she cuts a Biellmann spin? I WISH I could lift all of my legs as high as that!!” The pink mare winnied.
Twilight frowned as her friend again looked at herself in the crystal and shivered terribly.
“Well, considering we’re still waiting for everyone to get back here...I can stay and provide support if you need it, Pinkie.” She said. Pinkie shook her head softly.
“I appreciate that, Twi, but trust me, I have to do this alone...well, alone with her.” Pinkie groaned. “I’m not going to be of any use to you or to anyone if we don’t finally come to an understanding. Go make sure everyone else gets back here so we can save Celestia and then....well...”
Twilight looked dismayed at the way her friend’s tone dropped from dismal to outright hopeless as she finished her thought, though, yet again, Pinkie waved her off.
“I’ll be quick! I promise!” The pink mare pleaded.
Twilight thought to contest that point, then decided against it. Seath took note of the way his student bowed her head as Pinkie returned her full attention to her reflection in the crystal.
“Alright, just, we’ll be right outside if you need us.” Twilight said before gesturing for the dragon to follow her.
“Prithee mine student, dost thou speak as one who knoweth what ails thine pink friend? Or dost thou simply believe her to be as I believe her to be?” Seath quietly asked. Twilight’s ears twitched as she picked up on the implication, yet rather than be offended she just stared glumly at Pinkie.
“I’ve had cause to suspect what her issue is for years, ever since the time we tried throwing a surprise party for her, and then when she made dozens of copies of herself afterwards. She’s just so good at hiding it, or has been until recently at least, that I could never determine if she actually had a problem or it was just part of Pinkie being Pinkie.” Twilight sighed. “Also considering my own problems, I always thought if I said anything I’d look like a massive hypocrite so...”
Seath’s head frills rose as Twilight rubbed her face with a hoof.
“Look the important thing is she’s making an honest effort. Let’s just pray it does some good. It’s better than anything I can recommend right now.” The alicorn turned and walked out of the room. Seath’s expression softened as he paid Pinkie one final look, this time remembering their chat in the park, and the revelation that she, for all her annoying tics and foolish optimism, at least shared the common ground of seeing the world as he saw it. By Gwyn’s beard, did that seem like such a long time ago...
“Whatever thou hopes to find from this, Pinkie, may it be what thou needs.” He intoned.
That made Pinkie turn her head as the dragon departed his study and closed the door behind him.
“What thou needs...heh, shouldn’t be too hard. I can tell you exactly what you need!”
Pinkie’s mane wilted like a spring plant in in the heat from a blast furnace as she heard her own voice, now scolding her with all the venom and razor edged scorn it could muster.
“You don’t know HER. I can’t let HER out! SHE makes me do terrible things! SHE’S being quiet for once! How many did SHE kill? What did SHE do while I was out??”
Cringing and bracing herself for the worst, Pinkie looked back at her reflection in the mirror, seeing herself as she always hated to see herself. Her mane hung like an old, washed out rag over her features, her coat was several shades grayer, her pupils were shrunk to pinpoints and her teeth were gleaming with the pure, unrefined want for blood.
“What you NEED, balloon head, is to start using my bucking name! You know who I am! You’ve known ever since you were born! Your family uses it every time you visit, as do several of the customers at Sugarcube Corner, yet you still dance and sing your denial that it means anything!”
Pinkie ground her hooves loudly across the polished marble floor as she fought to stay calm in her response. Mockingly her reflection copied the action to further fray her nerves.
“Yes, you’re right, I do. Why do you think that is?” She flatly asked while glaring at her reflection. In turn the murderous faded mare in the crystal just glared back at her.
“Why do YOU think that is?” The reflection demanded. “Or should I perhaps tell you?”
Pinkie let out a defeated exhale as she raised her hoof, neatly preventing the mare from continuing her argument, even as she raised the same hoof as well to emphasize whatever her next point was.
***
In the depths of the Abyss, Nito was being given prompt, and solemn cause to contemplate he may indeed need help. As the Rotten’s giant butcher knife sliced its way through the left cluster of skulls on his body, the Gravelord was again being reminded of how much he had cost himself, in power, strength, and sheer plain vitality, with his self induced dreamless slumber.
Dust and shattered bone fragments rained down upon the floor as Nito reeled backwards, his free hand abandoning its position of clutching the gaping wound in his chest area and reaching for the broken remains of his facial region.
“So....here at last...death is witness to what hath become of the years it hath spent as object of both hatred and lust.” Nito intoned, backing away from the Rotten as it raised its blade then slammed it into the ground, summoning a wave of putrid sludge.
“So long was death a force to be feared, a god to be worshipped. All through the Age of Fire our cause was seen as harsh, unwanted, but fair.”
The Rotten raised its blade higher, then slammed it into the ground between it and the gravelord, summoning a cone shaped projectile of putrid sludge. Nito threw himself to the side, feeling his mishapen left leg creak in protest at the sudden strain. The sludge splashed across his front, dripping into his chest wound and over his legs as he stumbled backwards, his free hand reaching out for something to grab onto.
“Now, however, when all are stolen from death’s embrace by the touch of the curse, it is the cursed who vie to steal death’s embrace for themselves.” Nito sighed as he found purchase against one of the many walls. Upon regaining his balance he then felt more of the many skeleton parts that made up his anatomy melt and drop off as the sludge seeped into the rotting matter contained within his bones. He gauged that, were he of a more lively, fleshy consistency, the injuries he’d sustained would prove quite fatal. Granted he wasn’t exactly in all that good a shape as he was, but at least he could take some solace that the Rotten wasn’t going to vanquish him so easily.
Nito turned his fractured skulls to his opponent, watching as it struggled to pull its knife back out of the ground. The chains binding all the bodies together clinked and rattled terribly as said bodies writhed and struggled. Pain, suffering, woe and loss radiated in every little movement across the Rotten’s abomination of a form, yet as it finally got its weapon free and turned its caged head to Nito, every body still united together in the common cause of obtaining that which they sensed the gravelord possessed.
“So many hath intruded upon death’s domain, seeking kindling, the power of the occult, that which they believed could destroy the gods. So many did fail in this aim...” Nito continued as he pushed himself off the wall and aimed his greatsword at the encroaching monstrosity. “Is it they that hath been binded to give thee form? Might death believe those who trespassed against it hath been meted suitable punishment?”
The Rotten slashed violently at Nito, offering no response other than its ever present desire to finish what it had started in chopping him apart. Nito grimly deflected swing after swing, finally managing to lock blades with the Rotten after its third attempt. Summoning all his power, Nito’s hand ignited with a searing red aura and he plunged it into the Rotten’s chest area, grabbing several of the bodies while he forced his opponents blade down to the ground again. The Rotten reeled back, roaring a dry, pained exclamation as Nito closed his bony fingers, feeling a small ember of satisfaction as the bodies did their duty of being reduced to mush in his grip. He channeled his power into the Rotten, spreading the aura all through its innards and causing more of the bodies to liquefy.
The Rotten suddenly threw its head forward, smashing the cage into Nito’s skulls and reducing more of them down to fragments. Nito yanked his hand out, allowing the Rotten to retreat and slam a hand over the fresh hole in its chest. Black steam rose from the fissures across its form while the sludgy remains of the bodies Nito had introduced to his power oozed out from between its fingers.
Clasping his own hand back over his crumbling skulls, Nito made to press his advantage as the Rotten began keeling forward. The gravelord drew his sword back, preparing to give it a new home in his enemy’s body.
Said enemy thus revealed its momentary weakness was in fact partially a ruse by then raising its helmet and spewing a mass of dark colored liquid at Nito. Nito promptly stumbled and fell to the ground as the liquid splashed all over his front, sizzling hideously as it began corroding his bones. The bodies clustered around the Rotten’s base did it the service of dragging it back out of harm’s way as Nito frantically thrashed and clawed at his front, tearing multiple skulls and ribcages off his body as they rapidly dissolved in the acidic spit.
“Ngh...indeed...there is still something of death’s true essence about thee.” The gravelord seethed as he slammed his hand down on the ground, pushing his crumbling body back up onto its knees. Dust and liquefied rot flowed like blood from the gaping holes in Nito’s bones, revealing the putrid mass of dead matter that lay underneath it.
The two heads located in the eyeholes of the Rotten’s helmet cage slowly leaned outward upon seeing this, prompting the Rotten to halt its retreat as Nito stabbed his sword into the ground and used it as a crutch to help himself back onto his feet.
“Cast aside thou art, unloved and unwanted, as the dragon did foretell. We are not too different.” The gravelord wearily said as the Rotten began to advance upon him again. “Cast out was death by the gods. No further need had Gwyn for our presence whence the dragons were at last no more. Thus we resigned ourselves to isolation in the Tomb of Giants; as unwanted as thou.”
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Very nice!
I think the Nito/Rotten battle reads pretty well.
(The other two parts were great as well.)
Very nice.