//------------------------------// // Faith // Story: An Invite To The First Flame // by Michael Hudson //------------------------------// Pinkamena slowly pushed off of the ground, standing on unsteady hooves. Sitting here wasn’t going to do her any good, not when this wasn’t going to get her home. Home… Pinkamena blinked a few tears away, staring at the masonry. It was well done, but was heavily damaged, probably because of the demon, and a bit more stress could easily shatter the poor stone. All the more reason to find my way back. She slowly trudged forward, each step slowly becoming more confident. The body of the demon had disappeared, much to her joy. It hadn’t been pleasant to look at, and the thought of it possibly moving while she was this tired made her stomach tie itself into knots. By the time she inserted the Pilgrim’s key into the large door, a mirror of the one that led into this room, she had pushed the thoughts out. Pinkie would come out in time, but until then, she had to work. She had to push herself, and find a way to be happy, and nothing was going to stop her. Pinkamena’s hooves strode over the ground, heading up the hill as her hair blew into her face. The wind was fierce up here, threatening to blow her over, but she wasn’t about to allow that happen. Forward was her path, and nothing would stop her… At least, if there was anywhere to go. Pinkamena blinked as she stared at her hooves, one having threatened to go over the cliff she found herself at. Looking back didn’t show any other way to go, and she hadn’t seen any other ways out. Maybe if she climbed along the ramparts? No, there were too many enemies, and she didn’t want to scare Pinkie more by just going into more combat. Tears stung her eyes, making her oblivious to the noise of flapping wings. By the time she noticed the crow that was five times her size, its talons already hooked over her arms, and she let out a scream of terror as she was taken away from the Asylum. ======+++++====== Pinkamena sighed as she flew through another cloud, at this point having lost the novelty of her airline. The crow was nice, sure, as it hadn’t dropped her yet, but she couldn’t talk to birds, so calling it crow friend just felt about as hollow as she was. Still, while Pinkie had been high in the sky before, she’d never truly flown, so this was kind of nice. Maybe it will bring me to Equestria? I doubt that. It’s a crow, a bird renowned for being troublesome, and an omen of bad things to come. In fact… For a moment, Pinkamena wasn’t in the sky, but in an a wooden house, staring at a bedroom. A mare cried in the corner while a stallion stood tall, taking another, much older mare’s berating. What was she yelling about? Why was she here? A scream and flash of fire broke her out of the trance. Something was wrong, and she could feel Pinkie panicking in the back of her mind, asking a hundred questions. Pinkamena’s eyes scanned the landscape coming before her, desperately looking for something to soothe her true self. Anything to make her forget about the vision. And then, breaking through the clouds, both sides forgot about the vision, their breaths taken away by what they saw before them. It wasn’t perfectly beautiful like the landscapes in Equestria, but that was perhaps why it stunned them so. Below them, and coming closer, was Firelink Shrine. The name filling their mind filled them with a touch of warmth, of hope, and a promise of a home. A place they could call their own until they left. It was made up of almost two terraced steps, small, decrepit walls coming in two half circles, one above the other. Pinkamena’s quick eyes caught the stairs leading further down, and a set of bars on the lower part that would hide something in the ground beneath the top half. And there? She saw a man in blue armor, sitting upon a fallen column, his back to a much grander set of ruins that led up to what looked like a grand cathedral. In front of him though was a sword stuck into the ground with ashes surrounding it. The hilt called to Pinkamena, drawing her closer to it. The crow then took one more beat of its wings, carrying her just past, towards a room within the small, but more whole ruins. There it dropped her, with a touch more momentum than might be wanted, and… Splat! Pinkamena groaned, feeling herself spread eagle into the stone wall which meant that either someone had a very mean sense of humor in this world, or some of Pinkie’s cartoon physics still worked, especially since this would kill most people. She could fidget though, slowly getting her limbs out of the crevices they had created. The only problem with trying to free herself of course would be when she- Crash! Pinkamena blinked at the sounds of shattered pottery falling around her, feeling an odd catharsis from the noise. Even better, when she saw that there were more pots around her, a lick of flame appeared in her eyes as she thought about breaking it too. Yeah, that could be a lot of fun, even if it meant nothing. “Oh, are you alright? Normally our visitors land over there, rather than here. It could be a sign…” Pinkamena looked up, seeing the man who had a hand to his chin. He had short, yellow hair, leather armor that covered his arms and chest, leading into small plates of banded leather that covered his legs in a sort of skirt. Of course, she probably shouldn’t say that, especially since in his other hand he held a morningstar, its spikes shining in the sun. Still, he had offered to help her, so he could be a friend. Another lick of flame came to her eyes, much bolder this time as she pushed herself up. “I, um, think so. I, uh,” Pinkamena bit into her lip, wishing she knew how to talk to anyone, but the man smiled, relieving her of the need. “Not many who come here can speak well, but you at least seem to be brighter than many. At the very least, prettier.” The man gave her a firm smile, shutting his eyes as his yellowed teeth showed. He then held out his hand to her. “Of course, I could not act on any such thoughts, for I am a cleric of Thorolund, my name is Petrus, and my lady would be quite crossed if she heard I courted an undead.” And, with the kind words, a nice joke, and a firm handshake, fire swept over Pinkamena’s vision and her hair sprang to life. Pinkie beamed at him, turning the firm, but small handshake into a wild and chaotic one. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Petrus. My name is Pinkie Pie, and if it means not attempting to make you break your vows, I promise I shall find something more modest than this sinful tunic!” Petrus laughed at the peculiar girl who held an arm to the sky, the other covering her chest. Yes, indeed, this had to be a sign. “I thank you for the favor, but please do not discomfort yourself too much just for me.” Pinkie Pie shook her head. “Tis be no trouble at all, monsieur cleric. Besides, a bit better armor might help me, um…” She swallowed hard, glancing to the axe on her belt. Equestria was waiting for her, but she didn’t kill. Cracks of black began to form in her vision, before a soothing voice cooed to her, ’They’re monsters. Hollows and demons. They’ll understand when you get home.’ And with that, Pinkie squared her shoulder. The voice was right. It would hurt, it would be rough, but she, she would… She looked back to Petrus, taking in a sharp breath as she forced a smile on her face, even as tears threatened to come down her face. “S-So, it was nice to m-meet you, friend, but I’m trying to get home, s-so I need to be going… somewhere.” Petrus frowned as he saw the poor girl’s hair begin to lower. Sure, she looked odd, possibly like a small demon, but no demon acted like her. Sought friendship with clerics like this one so happily did. No, he would not abandon her, even if she was undead and covered in odd, pink hair. Not when he could save this wandering soul. He stepped forward, wrapping his free hand around Pinkie and holding her close. “I promise you, young one, that I can already see the Way of the White within you, and it shines so bright that I doubt you shall fail. If ever you need my help,” he backed up, showing her single copper coin, “just ask, and I may be able to provide you with some things that may help you with your travels.” Pinkie nodded, and when he offered his shop, she gladly began to look at what she could buy from him. Meanwhile, as the small demon went to work, Petrus bit into his lip, considering where to send her, as he had seen many undead come and get lost with the choices that faced them. Thinking about it, he could think of three options. 1) To the foul town the hollows have claimed, including the cathedral whose shadow he now stood in. 2) To the true resting place of the wretched undead that his lady would be coming to purge. 3) To a place of old sins, where only the ghosts of its residency now resided to watch over their watery graves.