//------------------------------//
// Chapter 2 The Covenant of Guardian 
// Story: Hexers and the Accursed Third Nation 
// by MadDonut 
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	It was a darkened night, snow just beginning to flake. Rivers faintly solidifying and trees lacking its greenery it held only weeks ago. The northern mountains were shrouded by the darkened night and the southern were so far that the horizon itself hid it from view. Mace however was very unaware as he laid there in his wolf made fleece as well as the pieces of meat that hung over his back as his fire burning warmly enough to allow him to forget about the present and leave to the past.
That Hexer. How boldly he seemed. Always when they woke he would say, “Right hunter. Let's keep moving.” They then would spend the day walking westward towards Freath. Mace talked little knowing that he couldn’t run home and that the Hexer couldn’t abandon the call. It was an odd circumstance but Mace came to the acceptance that the greater good is better than personal want of a single soul. So with the hide of a wolf he slayed he followed the Hexer as each of them carried hangings of meat; Deer and wolf.
Days would pass, small game hunting and roasting, traveling side by side in the others company. When the Hexer would fall into conversation it was when Mace felt like asking a few questions about his previous adventure that led him here.
He started with the book one day. “The book,” the Hexer said. “Ah yes, that book was of my handy work. You see I traveled a lot during the years after the Black dragon. I found myself in Istudious, those poor ponies, fighting with the armor of their ancestors.
“My presents was known only to one and that was archiver Donnavitch. We became great friends and I left a little peace of literacy in his keep. A guide that happened to lead you here. done in a matter of only days.”
Hours later Mace would ask about the thieves entrance. “Oh the thieves entrance? That marvel of engineering, you see it sat in a vast underground aquifer kept in motion and alive by massive turbines. It test your skill and cunningness however most often a party is required along with some equipment to even make it. And if you do… well then why not be rewarded with the treasury of our very own. The least a good Hexer could do.
“No pony fell to it, at least to the extent of my knowledge and no pony should have. The true entrance was left open anyways. Ashur the gatekeeper should have welcomed you. It's very odd, that prestigious Hexer was not one to terry away from his post. How… unfortunate. But I do say I find it rather odd how such a Hexer of seclusion became the only name, second to Noriphmy, to be known amongst the Nation of Noriphmy. Hm… very odd.”
Then came why his wings had no feathers. “Well you see hunter we Hexers sail on wings of light. A celestial as I would rather see his feathers stripped than the whole of the wing taken away. That would very well much… hurt, to say the least. It was common practice amongst us, the celestials that is. It is the most powerful way to travel but mind you I would rather not expel all my light magic at once. It would take a rather long time to gather it back from the world before I am able to perform such an act again. Hence why you travel next to me today.”
And then finally he asked about the magic dark magic of Noriphmy. “Oh? You say it was acquired by a fellow named Joel? It's an odd name to say the least; not one I ever heard. It was a secretive vault made by Bawl himself. Why Noriphmy would give up his magic all together was beyond me but you see I didn’t question this Hexer as he lived many, many years longer than the lot of us. Very powerful too.
“Why the essence of alchemy and light magic were already acquired is beyond me. Even more as to why only the dark magic of Noriphmy was left to stay. However it's not too hard to guess. Light and alchemy magic is more infamous in nature. Joel should consider himself lucky to have the magic of protection and sanction. I hope he puts it to great use in his life.”
Then a few days later Mace asked about Aminus. He expected an answer like all the rest were he would first show signs of carefully considering his answer before going into his carefully articulated explanation. However the Hexer only paused for a moment then said with a misleading smile, “Let's… not talk about insightful dragons.”
And as suddenly as Mace was made known to this Hexer many weeks ago he suddenly vanished in the night. Mace awoke dawning the Hexer’s armor and equipment and with a strange sense of power unlike any he had felt before. The Hexer’s last words before he fell to sleep at the wayside of a fire was, “Freath. How fowl.” He abandoned the call, falling to fear.
His own equipment was aside a tree along with the wolf fleece and Mace realized the choice was still his. Go to Freath, a place even a Hexer wouldn’t dare go and falter to during their calling, or the much preferred alternative. Go home. Resume his life as a Falconer instead. Hopefully finding Igneous Joel and Kara too. It seemed much better but in the stillness of the day the wind slightly shuttered and the birds stuttered in their songs as notes fell out of pitch. His ears flicked up panning to the left and to the right. Keeping his head low as eyes scanned the treeline one thought exploded in his mind, an all too familiar feeling at that too. A beast was present.
He was out of his element. He didn’t know how to use this armor. He didn’t even know how to enact this new found magic. However he did feel attached to the Hexers armor and looking down at his chained blades that hung beside him he did his best to lift them to no avail.
Suddenly the songs of the birds halted altogether and an eerie silence fell over the land. Again he scanned the tree line, ears swiveling, senses on high. Where was this thing? He took a step back snapping a twig that produced a deafening crack in the stillness of the day.
Then the beast pounced.
Mace looked over his shoulder and in an instant rolled backwards to see the beast pulverise the ground he had just occupied with its deadly claws. He sprang back up to his hooves and saw the beast from behind. It back held no hair giving way to a bony spinal column. It seemed very muscular and its tail was laced with thorns. It’s shoulders hung unproportionally low and when it turned its face was mostly a gaping maw with small little slits as eye holes. It was lined with teeth all the way back to the throat in a circular jigsaw. It had no hands but instead stumps with thorny bones sticking through and its feet just looked like a mesh of mated dead skin.
A beast if any. A greater beast by classification as it stood on two. Mace looked to his armor sitting beside the tree just next to the monster. He wondered if he could somehow manage to get it on and land a few explosive arrows, but only one obstacle posed as a problem. He didn’t know how to properly unequip the Hexers armor to even begin with.
The beast then swiped for him and Mace rolled out of the way of its thorny grip into the forest. He was swift and agile. The many years of being a falconer since he was a colt enabling him to live just that much longer.
Trees he left behind in retreat exploded into wooden shrapnel and bark as the hunter chased after the pony. Mace’s legs propelling him as fast as fear and survival would allow. His blood rushed, adrenaline pumped and he feared for his mortal life as he weaved around trees and bushes doing his best to slow his pressure down with the tricky obstacles.
This however didn’t work as the beast simply plowed through each and every one beginning to gain. Mace whimpered as he jumping over a small ditch as he landed on a boulder which, to his dismay, gave way at his step causing him to lose balance falling to the ground in a heap of armor and chains.
Looking up he saw the beast already having closed in on him ready to deliver the one lethal blow and proceed to desecrate his body. The thoughts that ran through his mind in that split second poisoned his body paralyzing him to the core.
Suddenly, just before his life was end was assured, the horrific beast was blown to the ground by something too fast for Mace to see. Picking himself up he looked and found himself at the scene of a faceoff between two monstrous beings.
A new beast had entered the fray, and it stood their back hunched. Its opponent reeling from the attack and picking itself up from the ground, and for a brief moment Mace saw the second. It was completely white with what looked like a bony exoskeleton. Its head was rounded and elongated near the back. It showed no eyes only a jaw with a slithering tongue and sharp pointed teeth that overlapped the bottom half. Its hand were big and decently formed with claws that moved independently as it stood on two,just like the other, with a tail that methodically waved above the ground as if it retained a brilliant intelligence of its very own. 
The tail was spiked with a long single plate of bone that curved near the tip and with this the beast bent forward striking the downed fiend in the back with a deafening thwack of impact. It pulled back striking again and again. Each one giving off an oppressing thump. It then lunged taking the beast by the head in its massive claws throwing it overhead and slamming it to the floor.
The first beast lashed out with a clawed, meaty hand only for it to bounce harmlessly off the whitened skeletal armor.
The whitened beast reeled back it’s second arm and clawed the body of the beast over and over ripping and tearing all the while the tail got to work to stabbing and impaling left and right, body and shoulder. It was horrific and Mace couldn't bear the sights but even still his eyes stayed fixed as flesh and bone became ripped and torn. The whitened beast then lowered his head and bore its fangs into the neck of the first whipping his head back, and along with, the flesh of the first.
Everything fell silent. The victorious beast grew more docile and as the whitened monster stood up it took two steps back. Mace watched in stunning aw as it took one last look at it, raised a clawed hand and did something that no monster should have done.
A light ray shot out from its palm finally putting an end to the first monsters life. That there proved itself to be a majin, something most ponies only prayed they never met. And it looked at Mace setting its rounded eyeless face on him.
He became frozen in undefined fear. It was a fear the dug deeper and pierced further than the pursuit of the first beast. He laid there pinned against the tree as the majin itself slowly began to creep over to him with steady steps as it crawled forward with its tail waving in its wake.
As it slowly made it way towards Mace, he thought for sure that this was it. Those wolves were foals play, this here was absolutely without a doubt death. “Do my senses deceive me?”
Did… did that majin just speak? “Wha…” he managed to say.
“You little pony,” it said. Its voice was deep like the vally of a mountain the you stand atop. “You are the son of Havel, yes?”
Only able to find his words he stuttered saying, “I a-am the s-son of…” Wait… did Mace know his father's true name? He went by manny, dropping all his old names and brandishing new ones whenever he felt like. “I don’t know his name,” he said dumbfounded with the striking revelation. Mabie he was just used to it.
“Ah yes now I remember. Perhaps the name of his son then. I'm positive he followed no such trend.” He set his bloodied clawed hands on the ground as he sat in much the same position Mace did with its spiny tail waving flicking blood with every interval. “Is your name Mace Volcod then?”
Swallowing he said, “Yes that is my name.”
“Should have thought,” he told himself. “You smell of him. That blood that flows within, it wouldn’t be a mistake to say you are him haha.”
His courage at this point wasn’t exactly the strongest but he felt just bold enough to ask, “What… Who are you? How do you know him?”
“Complicated,” he stated. “It's a long story but here is one thing I will say he was only a colt, so abandoned in the woods. Left to die as his fellow ponies died at the whim of otherlings? Murders have you. This colt relinquished me from such a nightmare, I was mindless and mad with rage, and I awoken again at the sight of him, and with this awakening the same was of my purpose. Forge a fourth covenant from the soul of a single, and be born the successor. One of a greater soul.” He let his words set in for a moment and he said not that Mace could grasp much of it in his suprised nature. However it came together when the beast said, “You Mace, are the successor. The one born with a greater soul and bound to the fourth covenant. The covenant of Guardian.”
“Is that your name?”
“Interestingly so,” said with his featureless face nodding. “You see your father sent me after you once he found you became lost to Carridian. Abandoned by Aminus and left to die, no?”
“He let me go,” he said.
“So seems, that black dragon is devious.” He then looked westwards and said, “I see you were on your way to Freath. Not many ponies, or insightful beings for that matter, find themselves longing for such a place. However I also see you dawn the Hexer equipment.” He looked over his shoulder to the dead beast he slayed and a deep chuckle came of him. “Ah Hexers, about extinct by now. I'm surprised most would rather kill themselves rather than fall to the curse of the covenant abandoners.”
“What do you mean covenant abandoners.”
The majin looked to Mace again. Its white teeth covered in blood as well as its tail that waved and claws that dug into the ground as it sat. “A penalty for abandoning the covenant of Sapience. I myself fell to it, but again I was relinquished.”
“You were a Hexer?”
Mace could feel the majins none existent eyes stare at him even as its head was angled slightly down off to the side as the majin breathed through its mouth with its tongue idle dancing around in times of silence. “Enough words Guardian,” the Majin said taking to Mace’s new found title. “You now have a purpose. You see Freath has claimed many Hexers alike. The fact that your dear Hexer abandoned the call was no surprise. None of them could expunge the nation of its dreaded curse. It threatens to burst you see. It will rack the entire valley of its boundless darkness.”
“How can you expect me to accomplish this task then?” he said becoming more and more comfortable with its presents. “I only just received this magic and I don’t have the proper knowledge on how to use this equipment.”
“Guardian you forget. You bear the greater soul. Its more powerful and stronger than any in Carridian. Freath and its curse will steer well away from you, I insure it. Thoe it doesn't hold true for those liken to me. Again Freath has claimed many Hexer before, and not many in death I should say.” Mace didn’t speak or say a word as it explained, “You see Mace you had a purpose since your birth, unnatural as it was. This was your legacy since that very day. You’ve been trained. Your agile, fast and intelligent. Strong too no doubt. If you leave the curse will spill over the borders of Freath and infect all of Caridian. It seems a rather unsavory alternative but one I'm sure you see rather grim, and in your present circumstance, unnecessary.”
Mace couldn’t help but admit this Majin was right. If what he said was true and his world would succumb to this plague than who is he to cower away. Especially when he apparently was the only one who could as unexpected as that was. His father taught him better and the parables he told further only strengthened it. “How will I accomplish this then?”
“Alone,” he said. “But not entirely. You may summon me through means of Light magic. After all I am bound to you through blood, same as your father. However I can’t go with you. The curse won't allow it Guardian.”
“How can I summon you?”
“By deepening the covenant,” it said raising a bloodied claw to Mace’s chest. “Sacrifice some blood, voluntarily or otherwise. It's a very precious commodity, especially in Freath. Then call for my name, Guardian, and I will come albeit in a different form. It won’t be me truly but something more of your own. It will protect you until you fall dead or dismiss it yourself but be warned it will expel your light magic swiftly then it will draws on physical strength until you're a drooling heap. To avoid this summon segments of me like my claws or tail. Your light magic will last longer in doing so. Keep that in mind.”
After the Majin had said this it picked itself up on two with its tail balancing and began to saunter away grasping trees for better balance. Mace jumped up and said, “Wait! Where are you going?”
Guardian stopped in his tracks. Clinging to a tree seeing as it was unsteady on two legs, it said, “Tell me. Ponies? Did they used to think of Hexers as gods, no?”
“Some did,” he answered. “A few still do.”
Guardian nodded and then said, “Then let's say I’m off to do a bit of… godly things. You know where Freath lies. My best wishes go out to you. Take care of the greater soul, you’ll need it to eradicate the evil. I trust it will be made known to you from the gates themselves. Oh and for your protection, do call yourself a Hexer,” he said now stumbling his way away from him. “The best of wishes for the greatest of souls.” And Guardian disappeared into the forest with a fist raised at his side in a quiet resolve leaving nothing but Mace and the withering corps of the first. One that had only came into full existence that day the Hexer abandoned the call.
The wind blew, this time a little strong and although it had been blowing for a while now this one officially slayed the fire putting it out for good. Mace shook his head coming back to reality. The sun still had a few hours left to peak over the horizon. His wolf fleece still kept him warm and as much as Mace would have rather started another fire he thought it was best to start making way now anyways and break in the day. The clouds were already beginning to move on and the snow and the accompanying winds were beginning to lessen. 
So coming to a decision he picked himself up. The chains clinked as they hung from his armor. Mace adjusted his crossbow that hung over his tail as well as his quiver holding twelve normal shots and nine explosive arrows. With this he began to walk westwards with snow crunching beneath his hooves at every step.
For hours he didn’t stop with each breath and every sight being made visible to him. The day was clear cold as it was. He stood atop a hill for now as it was the highest point of elevation he could find during the late afternoon. It was best he look for shelter unless he rather be sleeping with the wolves again, and looking out to the west he could see nothing except desolate snow covered woods and pastures. 
However to the south he could have sworn he saw the peaks of mountain tops. If that was so then he should have at least been seeing some sort of ruined village even if was in the very least a ruined farming village. But as he thought he remembered that there was always the legend and story that Aminus destroyed the land with alchemy. So it could very well possibly have been buried underneath mounds of earth. However stories often times had a twist and legend, tho very young, still tended to be a bit exaggerated.
He sighed frustrated. He was cold, a bit hungry, admittedly lonely and most of all he still didn’t know how to enact his magic. He got a fire started that was about it. Really only came to him with anger and frustration, so calling on the same feelings of the moment a spark formed at his side with next to no effort.
Then Mace allowed himself to relax breath easily. He still had a few hours of daylight left so he thought for a moment more. What was a falconer always taught to do? Always think long term. Seems fundamental by nature but think. What would happen if he just ran at Freath with no former knowledge on his magic? He would be obliterated thats for sure.
So sitting on the mountain overlooking the valley he called on his best memories of magic and how to perform it. The most recent one was when Igneous kept alight a dark flame to practice his dark magic. Didn’t seem to do much given the remainder of their adventure but Mace couldn’t help but draw truth from it. Surely the best way to learn anything was with repetition because practice never made perfect it only made permanent.
So what did he have now? He had another fire going fueled by the emotion of anger. Maybe that's how alchemy was drawn on, through emotions. Those who wielded water often tended to be softer spirits. Like Adridge. So thinking very carefully he managed to spread the flame amidst the air fuling it with soft hate, or artificial anger brought on by mild annoyances and empathy. It began to surround him forming a ring, thin as it was but nevertheless a ring.
There he let it burn, breathing easily as the cold winds blew bustling the trees of the landscape below. So he thought: What else did he know? He knew that magic was only as strong as the energy within the host. It drew little true energy but so long as you could stand then so could the magic enact itself. For now he was perfectly healthy. He could possibly do this all night with little distraction.
What else did he know? Magic came with study. However most associate study with reading text while others say study also coincides with meditation. That was good as it was what he was essentially doing right now.
What more did he know about magic? Light magic was drawn from the world not from within. So how would he draw on light magic. Focus on the living? Think of the trees and the grass? The birds in the skies and the live stock below? Or do you just sense the power around you?
Light magic might have to take a bit longer to fully understand, but even as he did this, what he would do all day that day was ask himself questions. He would then look for an answer and see if he could improve on that. He kept his ring of fire alight as a constant reminder of his effort. Focus on the magic, think of the magic, be that as of magic.
Night fell that day for the little earth pony who sat on that mountain and were as some ponies would find it wise to go to sleep Mace felt like he was really on to something so he didn’t give way to sleep fearing he would fall from his moment of magical clarity. So he sat on that mountain all night with the ring of fire illuminating the valley to his presents making known of the magical venture he was having.
“The magic is within,” he told himself. “I just need to draw it out.” He empathized with the fire and it grew brighter, warmer. “It's unbelievable power. That of a Hexer.” He tried to feel for the world around him to draw on his light magic but for now, only for now it remained dormant. “Soon,” he told himself. “A falconer always waits for the opportunity. So soon, very soon.” The same thought came for dark magic. He hadn’t had a bound weapon safely stored so he couldn’t try if he wanted but again he told himself soon, very soon.
He had no binding stone but perhaps he could find one. If he ever did learn one thing from Igneous it was that they were always taught to summon shields first before weapons. Many ponies called dark magic the magic of protection after all. A claim reinforced by the Hexer himself too.
The night seemed as if it needed to get away because the next thing Mace noticed was the sun peaking over the horizon. The ring of fire was still burning but when he looked down he found the snow that previously coated the mountain top had completely melted giving way to grass.
He felt considerably hungry and sure grass would do finally, but he was more for meat instead. Surely there should have been a rabbit or two scurrying about and after all he was an expert tracker and a brilliant shot.
Then he remembered. His crossbow was no longer mounted on his back with a dynamic reticle but instead was slung on his back. What had Igneous said a few times, that picking up weapons with your magical grip depends deeply on personal familiarity.
He stretched himself for a moment within the hide of his wolf fleece and sighed. Being able to free wield a crossbow was just going to have to be worked on like the rest of his magics. So he set for the bottom of the hill trudging through ice and snow outside the small ring of grass. He kept in mind one thought and that was the words his father had told him.
‘Obstacles coinciding with or blocking necessity are always overcome with the smallest amount of determination,’ so taking that into heart it would not be hard at all if Mace simply every so often tried to, ‘feel,’ for his crossbow, and with this he set his sights for small little paw-placed tracks. After all he’d already proven he could get a fire going and now was in the mood for extra well done mitten and bone.
Somewhere however a rabbit did poke its head up. Its white fur blending into the whitened snow so well that, to an untrained eye, looked to be of snow as well. However Mace was that trained eye with his father having taught him well. So crouching behind a tree with a single eye poking out from aside, he reached for his crossbow doing his best to summon up his magical grasp.
It shifted and slowly lifted before falling to the snow useless. Still he took it in his hoof and lowered it onto the root of the tree to steady it. The rabbit was still there wandering around continuously checking to make sure there were no predators around. A false statement if any.
Lining up the fletching of the preloaded wooden bolt with arrow head he set the sights for the eye of the rabbit as he loosely and unevenly held it in his grasp. The trigger was an internal device meant to be acted on by suit of his armor. That armor being many, many weeks left behind but still he knew the inner workings of the device. All he needed to do was have his magical grasp trigger it letting loose.
So he focused feeling for the familiarity and suddenly the crossbow let loose striking the rabbit in the head missing the eye only by a margin. It was fine for Mace, he wasn’t hunting for sport but it was just an instinctive objective that always caught him.
He took the rabbit corps doing his best to dislodge the arrow, unevenly guiding it back to his quiver with his magical grasp which took tens of minutes just to do. He then mounted the rabbit over his back and continued on his way with intent to dine that night. Perhaps with even more game later that day.
This proved to be true as night fell with scoring three more rabbits over the course of the day. All of which he hung on his back. During that day he was able to exercise his magical grasp by first being able to manipulate an arrow, light as it was, however he still needed a hoof to properly hammer it into the flight grove. Firing the crossbow became much easier as well as his aim.
So as he gathered his wood and made a fire he began roasting the skinned meats of the rabbits. The chained blade, he also became accustomed to, into the fire to clean he watched as the first rabbit slowly began to cook to perfection as night fell.
However as he ate the first leaving the two others to cook as the fourth lay on his back, from the darkness something seemed to approach him. Looking on as he took another he saw that faint outline of the antlers of a deer. He wouldn’t kill it as there was no need to at this time, but as it came into the light to his surprise it wasn’t a deer but a pony in deerskin.
This new stranger looked to Mace still eating and said, “May I join you. As you see I have my own,” she said lifting the meats of the deer, probably the same deer she now wore.
Mace passively nodded having been accustomed to meeting insightful Dragons, Hexers strange talking creatures, and now ponies alike in foreign, barren lands.
The stranger mare nodded back taking a seat in the snow across the fire from Mace. She then took her meat and too began to cook. As the savory smell filled the air none of them spoke both simply partaking in one another's company. It was all Mace needed as no words were required. And there they sat, each cooking and eating his own and her own hunted meat in the lands of Freath. The Accursed lands of Freath apparently.