Animarum
He looked up with a small amount of distress, but it was far far too late to back out now. He just wanted to be sure his little Iris would be ok, and he couldn’t very well do that six feet under.
Grumbling, he sipped the last of his flask down, that would be something he missed dearly as well. He would miss them all, Granny, Twilight, Luna, even his new friend Earl, but most of all, he would miss Iris. It nearly took more than he had in him to make that arrangement, and he certainly hoped that Earl could actually find a place for her up in his homeland.
The future was unclear, but he was confident he would die before the sun set. It was odd to him that not even a year had passed, mere months since he was metaphorically born, coming into this world without knowing who he was or what he was for that matter, and here he was marching to a warrior’s death. His armor was very light and his weapons, while plentiful were not the highest quality. Most of his gear had come from the griffon he killed, but he scavenged what he could from where he could.
He looked to the North, thanking Granny Smith for all her help, silently apologizing that he couldn’t give back more. He thought of Twilight, she gave too much too easily, if she was to be a princess she had some lessons to learn. He smiled at how much kindness she had in her, it was really something else seeing how much she was willing to do. She didn’t even tell a soul about Iris, granted he didn’t know if she would remain silent forever, but he was thankful nevertheless and he ensured his will would tell her of that. He thought of Luna, he didn’t know why he cared so much about her, but he had a decent idea that he was sure he would never get an answer to. A small part of him wished he could get one last night, see her one last time. His thoughts went to Earl, for such an odd foreign pony, he was a good guy. Certainly confusing and perhaps a little too bluntly honest, but he was happy to have met the guy.
He tilted his head back and rubbed his eyes as his mind went to Iris, he didn’t want to leave her. The only reason he had not killed himself or surrendered to the darkness was simply that one little filly. More than anything, he wanted her to be safe, wanted her to live a long and happy life. It made him question his entire plan. But it was far too late to change anything. He could already feel them, their souls burned bright, a neutral pained light. They were not evil, but they were not good, they were doing what they believed they had to. And the darkness inside him, the very power that let him feel them out, he could not blame them for their desire to kill it.
He counted ten, then one more just beyond them. Five arranged to the left and five arranged to the right, all hidden, then one in the center.
He breathed easy as his eyes closed, he walked within the iron jaws of the trap, each of the ten teeth remained set and coiled, waiting for the command for his death. Blades tucked into his belts, even his tail had a small fitted blade, like the stinger of a manticore. It had been poisoned, but he washed the blade clean. These griffons were doing their job, he had no ill will against them, after all they had left Iris alone as requested. When he lost his life to them, he wanted it to be a fair fight.
He smiled, as he approached, the halberd on his back had been pulled from the long burnt out husk of a hive where he ended thousands of lives in that one moment. The dulled machete that Granny had lended him rested at his hip sharpened like new.
His slow trot came to a gentle halt in front of what he could only guess was their leader, or at least the stand in. He breathed in deep, feeling the knives from his kitchen tucked away into the armor, he had plundered them from what remained of his house. He was still confused as to why he even had a kitchen, but while kitchen knives were not ideal for combat, he was thankful he had them.
“I’m almost shocked… I was rather shocked when you spared my knight and made her deliver that message, I was absolutely certain it was a ploy to get us to let you have enough time to escape. But those orders, those specific orders. You are certainly not what we thought you were. It’s almost enough for us to consider some of him is still alive in you somehow…. Almost…” She was old, he could plainly see it in her features, not only was she old, but she was weathered. What had to be once beautiful deep blue plumage was gray and looked dirty. She had no place on the battlefield, but he could see it plain as day, this was extremely personal for her, she had to be here.
He smiled opening his eyes to see her, and his heart to feel her. Her resolve was absolute, which was vital for her at the moment because she was in dire pain. He could feel it inside her, a cancer, a sickness, something inside her was taking her from the world, but here she was, spending the last of her pained days, tracking him down to kill him. A part of him wondered what or who she was. She leaned on a polearm, looking sickly but he could tell, the power in her soul was immense. While the sickness in her marked her for death, the power in her spirit was enough to fight off any death that came for her.
He watched as she plucked a small bag from a pocket and appeared to whisper into it. A cold pain shot through his heart when he saw the bag, but he didn’t know what it was. “I don’t really know who I was, but who I am isn’t a liar. And there are those I love, and those I owe. I would rather face death than to see them hurt. So yes, I came. And I have here to end this. I am sorry, I am so very sorry. Sorry for the lives I have ended, sorry for your knights, sorry for whatever this vile darkness has done, what it’s revelled in. And I am sorry that I will fight back against you. I don’t know who or what or why, but I do know that you don’t deserve my wrath. But... “
He paused looking out at her, then looking down at his talons, exactly the same as he did when he was ‘born’ when he came into existence. Flexing his talons and looking over them as if it was the first time he had ever seen them. “I have something, someone, someone I want to go back to. I have those I love, I owe you a chance to take back what is yours, but it’s not yours alone. This flesh may be your family, your comrade, your friend… I don’t know, the darkness within may be your prisoner… but the heart belongs to a little filly I will do anything to protect. I don’t care what you think of it. I will fight for that love. But that is all I will fight for. If I die to your blades this day…. Then so be it. But if I survive, I will find the most distant shore, I will go there with my daughter and I will stay where I cannot harm anything until such a day that I perish.”
She looked at him with confusion, even as he pulled his halberd up and planted it in the ground, the dark twisted and pitted metal had been filled with his darkness, filled and empowered, hammered out by the magic within him until it was a twisted thing that sought out the lives of those that opposed him, it was fitting that he had pulled it from a mass grave of burned bodies. But she still just stared, her polearm was shined from quality steel, and decorated with gold and ivory. Her empty gaze continued until a twinge of sorry etched into her features as her beak opened for words.
“He really is still inside there. You sound just like him… A real hero, selfless and dedicated, wrecked with loss… our loss. I remember feeling so betrayed that you had the audacity to mourn for her. I was even more angry than when you took her from us. But… alas… that time has long since passed, and now we both surrendered our lives to the blood.” She gave a weak smile as tears welled up in her old eyes. “They are here… they are here because for the last thousand years, they have sworn an oath to purge evil from this world, purge all magic, magical items, magical beings… and that which they could not purge yet still remained a threat, they would seal away forever. But… I am here because of you. No matter how much I hated you, hated you for taking her from us, hated you for losing her, hated you for mourning as if you had lost more than us.”
Her breath became unsteady as if she were on the verge of slowly weeping. “I was so damned angry, I hated you so damned much… But it took me years to find out that I hated you, not because you took her, not because you lost her, not because you mourned…. I hated you because you loved her more than we did. I hated you because she loved you back just as much as you loved her… And that was all I had. All I could do for her…” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she trembled as she hefted the weapon with the skill of a grand master. “All I could do, was avenge the death of her most loved husband… Avenge the death of the greatest and most selfless hero I have ever known… avenge the death of someone I so selfishly hated, it was all I could do to make peace with all the hate I’ve held in my heart.”
She sniffed and swallowed before looking him in the eyes and nodding. He didn’t want to do this, there was a thousand reasons not to, but he knew, something in him knew it, and demanded that he give her at the very least this one last chance.
“Come… take what is yours… the griffon I am today knows and will not hate. You are owed this much, and you will have it.” He breathed deep, his thoughts lingered on Iris but he slowly opened his eyes and nodded back to her.
The steel jaws of the trap snapped shut.
All ten Griggons leaped, swords, axes, spears, and more flew at him with masterful skill, but she stayed back, her stance steady. She knew, she somehow knew exactly how it would go.
Tyrin rolled hard. Blades hidden away in his feathers, from kitchen knives to sharpened shrapnel of what remained of his home, the assault peppered the incoming foes. There had been so much force that a single kitchen knife managed to penetrate a helmet, the dead body continued on its course tumbling to a stop even as Tyrin shot to the skies and the remaining nine followed.
His machete bounced and pinged off the flurry of blows at a blurred speed. He hardly knew from where they were coming or how, he just let his instincts flow, and the blade intercepted again and again. The very slightest of flinches left a shallow four inch cut into his neck, but the attacker lost his head with a splashing of blood. Sadly, farm ready iron was no match for Griffon steel and the weapon snapped under the weight of a heavy axe blow. His talons snatched both pieces from the air and he began a dive. Pushing the handle and short length of blade into his belt he threw the broken blade end up at his pursuers. The first Griffon dodged, the second parried, but the third took the blade deep into his shoulder severing the muscles to his wing. He perished not even a second after Tyrin pulled out of the dive.
The remaining seven circled him in the air as he drew two knives. Clashing and clanging about he sacrificed two seconds taking a heavy blow to the back and a spear to his wing as he ducked under the wild swing of the seventh warrior, planting his blade into his throat before abandoning the kitchenware for the saber the poor knight held.
He tumbled through the air as his muscles pulled taut despite his tendons no longer being attached to the wing. Falling out of the air he calmed himself and allowed the darkness to seize his flesh, knitting the wound back together despite his lack of ability to actually heal the wounds on his body. He barely pulled out of the fall as he threw the saber into the closest face of his foes. This Griffon deflected the blow just barely. It still slit her throat and she tumbled into a pile desperately trying to stop the bleeding. The remaining five took up a quick formation instantly making up for the dropping numbers. Two charged him head on, three flew over him and came in from behind at equal angles.
He took two blades in the abdomen just as he gripped them with his awaiting arms, forcefully pulling up and snapping two necks at once. He could feel the blades stirring his insides as he forcefully whipped about to face the remaining three. A dagger in each shoulder, and a sword in his left and right sides. The maneuver was performed beautifully, but it didn’t keep his iron like talons from sinking into the center knight giving her a full frontal lobotomy through her eye sockets. The two blades pulled out and raised to sever his arms. Like lightning, he tore out his broken machete and plowed into the first knight, sinking the broken blade through his eye and into his brain. He instantly whipped about, his magic reconnecting tissue and tendons as he removed and threw back the daggers from his shoulders. The sword plunged through the palm of his open talons. Despite the massive damage, the talons snapped shut like a trap. The other arm came up and plunged a dagger into his chest, right below the base of his neck. He looked into the Griffon’s eyes taking note that this was Ternin, the first Griffon he had met on his misadventure. Recognizing him did little to quell the regret as Tyrin’s open talons closed over the knight’s face and with the dark abominable strength of the monster within, he crushed the Griffon’s skull, finally pushing him away, letting his spasming body hit the ground.
He looked back, he could see terrorfied ponies looking on from afar. Royal guards had begun to gather, and he knew it would not be long before they stepped in. He had to do this fast, he had to let her do what she came to do. His magic held his body together just barely, as if his every injury was simply stitched back into place with the utmost precision and skill. This however, did not keep the black blood from spilling out of him like a slow fountain. He slowly made his way back to the same spot, grasping the planted halberd he painfully breathed in and smiled. It hurt so horribly, any one of the wounds could and would have likely killed him. He could even feel the black tar like blood pushing the poison from his body, carried there on the bladed weapons of the knights. But something else was present, something that gave his command to the magic an odd drunk feeling. Like a pleasant numbness. He still had magic, but he was slowly losing it, he guessed it was some sort of precaution they took to deal with the magic. It was likely something they always had.
He smiled. “I don’t want this, I’m not afraid to die, but I am afraid to leave those I love without me to protect them… but… you are owed this. I have no right to take it from you.”
Tears came from his eyes and he smiled nonetheless. Then he saw it, he didn’t know why. But he saw it. He saw an old Griffon teaching him to fight, an old war veteran begging for a good death, robbed of the battlefield by misplaced pity, raising some abandoned bastard, raising him as if he was his own flesh and blood. He watched with pride, terror, sorrow, and relief as the old bird breathed his last, dying in battle as he was meant to. He saw that same young griffon filled with pride, wearing a uniform for the first time. The polearms clashed.
She might have been dying, but the blow was so powerful he could feel his straining injuries threaten to pop open. He saw her, younger, but still much older than himself. He saw her shaking her head, aggressively refusing his request. Refusing to give her blessing.
Her blade cut just below his left eye, it was so fast he could only just barely avoid her pincushioning his throat. He could see the same blow, thirty years ago hitting him in the throat so hard he could not stand. He was young and taught by the best, but she was the grand master of her order, and her daughter was not to be handed out to some commoner.
Again, this time the blade passed through his left knee and she dodged masterfully under his violent slash. She watched the young griffon again and again and again, rise up against the unmovable grand master with no regard for his own life. He loved, and he knew that some things were worth putting one’s life on the line for.
His blade parried but her weapon passed through the hilt at a deep angle slashing a bloody line from his shoulder to his hip. He could see the young griffon fallen, so broken and bloody that he could not stand, but he still refused to surrender.
“So long as I love, I will fight for that love…” Her eyes opened, not just from hearing those words once again, but from the sharpened end of his weapon penetrating her heart. The surprise in her eyes, identical to the shock over her face as the most beautiful creature in the world stepped in front of her mother refusing to yield. The beautiful feathers, soft dark purple. The scent of the queen of the night. The griffon he married, the same griffon he couldn’t protect.
The little bag she carried, torn free by the remains of his weapon piercing her chest. The dark blue feathers from a long dead lover and daughter floated across, caught on the winds of their bloody battle. They came to a rest in the bloody palm of his talons. They stared at the feathers together. Pained, but fully aware that it needed to happen. From the moment the darkness seized the mourning shamed knight back near the well in that limestone castle, this moment was destined to happen.
He looked to her, and she looked to him. There were no words, but all was understood. She slumped and lay back peacefully. He even guided her body to the ground. He wanted to settle her into her final rest, but the feather in his grip, he could not let go, he could not look away.
He stared, despite his body being in tatters, he could only stare at the flawless deep purple, the soft scent that haunted him, that haunted his nightmares. Greater than the thousands of lives that weighed on his conscious, was the one failure. He could see her, looking into the feathers he could see her looking right back at him, looking at him and telling him what he always knew. It wasn’t his fault.
He loved her, he loved her more than anything, he protected her with all of his strength, so when she died, it was default that his strength had not been enough. He looked at her, her weeping eyes. She had been there, crying out to him, telling him over and over, but he refused. He could not bring her back, and he could not punish her killer any more than he already had. He needed more, but… there was no more. There was no blame to be laid. She was gone, and no matter how much he wanted something, someone to blame. There simply wasn’t someone to blame, not anymore.
It felt like a scab coming off, like a massive weight he didn’t know he was carrying. Had there not been a massive gaping painful hole, he would have said it felt like salvation. But no, it was only relief, the kind of relief that was cutting off a gangrenous limb, the kind of relief that was cutting open a digit to remove a splinter, the wound remained, but the obstruction, the problem… it was gone.
He could see her smile, then the oddest sensation followed. He could see himself smile. Like it was twenty years ago. He could see them embrace and leave. But the fear flared, and he realized that the emptiness would not remain empty for long.
He twitched. He could feel the frightened souls of guards approaching fast, he could feel the burning beacon of golden light that was Celestia poisoning his rightful property. The wounds over his body seethed and bubbled as he repaired, powering through the magic which seeked to hamper his might.
“Finally…” His voice was cold, and he trembled with delight that it was finally his again. He could feel the spears pointed at him, but he didn’t bother with the prattle the petty mortals spat out at him. He just grinned, stretching his wings as he rose off the ground without any effort of flapping. “I was so certain he had killed me… Damned fool throwing us both into the well of souls… But it takes a lot more than that…”
He laughed and turned to see guards, more guards, the dawnguard, then Celestia. Celestia, she would be hard to break, but she was the only heir to the old king, the kingdom which now belonged to him. “Supplico.”
The command shot out and all at once, spears clattered to the ground, two of the guards couldn’t even handle the command, vomiting and spasming on the ground like the petty creatures they were. All others who could survive his righteous commandment knelt as was their place. Save for Celestia, but she would kneel in time.
“Hello hello hello… “ He grinned and a shot of horror flushed through Celestia. Her magic barely raised fast enough for his sickly rotting magic to clash against it. She didn’t even need to ask the question. He answered it. “I…. am Dominus Rex… rightful ruler of all… God of order, Father of the Changed Ones, Tyrant of Darkness... well, I suppose in the present day, titles like ‘god’ are a little worn out… but I suppose my kingdom returned, I will have plenty of time to..”
His eyes went wide, as did the eyes of every last soul present. The terror and unabated horror of the creature within the griffon’s body was placed to one side as a spear had plunged into his back and out his chest. There had been so much force in it that the mere action seemed to tear and shake the very reality of the space it passed through. Black blood splashed out of the beaked mouth as the dark king as his eyes traced the length of the massive spear. His magic gripped at the weapon but seemed to dissolve on contact.
“I’ve been waiting for you…” The voice was all too familiar, but so filled with unrelenting rage and bubbling livid hate that Celestia barely recognized it. A lion’s paw gripped the tether to the spear fueling more chaos magic into it. “Ever since he spoke that name, I knew you were in there… I KNEW… you would come out… And I would be damned if I wasn’t waiting for you.”
The body of the Griffon flinched and hesitated as the wounds began to unbind and bleed again. “D...do you really th..think you can..can….”
Discord cut him off with a slightly too satisfied grin. “You’ve starved nearly to death for a thousand years in an anti magic Griffon cell, wasting away until you could just barely possess a simple griffon warrior, who managed to throw you into a supernatural magical anomaly which effectively merged you both into the same person as you were trying to rip his memories out. What little was left, you two killed while in your death throes. Now, with his soul finally moving on, that tiny little bit that is left, that’s you big guy. And I didn’t wait a thousand plus years just to let you resume killing everything just like you killed my people, just like you killed my mother. Sorry king of fools… you and I have a LOT of catching up to do before your end…”
Seizing the tether with all his might, Discord yanked and the barbs dug in as the spear tore the dark king from his host. The look of absolute horror on the king’s face faded into a frightened pained loss for words. Two souls, turned one, turned zero. The darkness went with the God of chaos as they slipped further and further away. Kicking and screaming, the pride, hate, wrath, and violence that had lived inside the griffon Tyrin vanished into the realm of chaos, leaving an empty husk mortally wounded a dozen times over bleeding on the ground.
Had the silence not been deafening, the magical backlash of the order magic commands being torn free as the caster was removed from this reality nearly broke those who suffered from it.
Nopony knew what to do, and nopony moved, everything had changed in a few short seconds. Nothing was the same, nor would it ever be.