It was cold and he could not see a thing. Once again, the snowstorm had returned, making it hard for Darren to make his way south. The sky was overcast and a distant howl encouraged him to keep ploughing his way towards civilization.
He had been walking through the Frozen North for five days straight. After half a day, the potions in his backpack had been frozen through. Two days later, Darren had passed an actual glacier, something that was rare even in Northrend. The sky had been clear and the stellar constellations confirmed what he had already suspected: He was not on Azeroth anymore. Up to now, he was not sure how many miles he had put between himself and the spot where the portal exit had collapsed.
A human would probably have died on the second day. For Darren, that did not matter. It was not because he would have been particularly badass, it was just that he had already done that a long time ago. Years without proper food had followed, years without body warmth, a decade without friends.
Now he missed Twilight Sparkle and the others even more than his own family. The latter were a distant memory, the former still fresh in his mind. That feeling of being treated like a decent human being, a friend even: Darren wanted it back, even if it meant having to walk across a continent.
Suddenly, the ground under his boot gave, and Darren stumbled and fell into the snow. Raising his head, he grunted in annoyance. His deep voice was the only sound that could be heard above the howling storm. He stood up and checked his things. Nothing had fallen out of his bags and the two-handed runeblade was still sheathed safely on his back. He pulled the hood up again and resumed walking. As he raised his eyes to reorient himself, he spotted a shimmering light in the distance.
Three hours later, Darren stood in front of a magical barrier. The force field was light pink and hardly visible which must have been why he had not discovered it sooner. The most remarkable thing about it: On the other side, there was neither snow nor ice.
Darren could hardly believe his eyes. Finally, something alive! Lush green grass spread to the horizon. In the distance, across the sloping hills, crystal spires stretched towards the blue sky. Crystal formations in rich colours completed the picture. It was the embodiment of life and beauty, so perfect that a sigh of relief escaped Darren's mouth.
If only he could cross the threshold to this kingdom. He stretched out his hand, trying to step through the force field. It did not budge by an inch. Magical static discharged between his gloved fingertips and the barrier as he pulled his hand back. He tried again without the gloves and got the same result. Darren drew his sword and stuck it into the frozen ground. Without the unholy weapon, he tried to step forward again. After pushing with all his might, he had to face the bitter truth. The death knight could not enter this paradise.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed, trying not to scream out his disappointment. He had never felt so close and so far from something at the same time.
Except... Darren eyed the blade that stuck in the ground next to him. There was one thing he had not tried yet. Now that he knew that this place existed, maybe he could create a portal?
He knew the theory at least; every death knight was able to cast a single portal spell to return to Acherus, the Ebon Hold. It had been their base of operations in the war against the Lich King. If he managed to alter the spell and just try to jump across this threshold...?
Darren took his sword and pulled it from the ground. With a little effort - the constant cold slowed even the undead down - he raised the blade, pointing it at the barrier. Focusing his mind, Darren said the incantations, replacing the name "Acherus" with "Crystal Empire". His efforts were rewarded when space reluctantly tore apart at the tip of his sword. The gate widened until it was large enough for a human to step through. Otherwordly voices escaped the dark maw, groans and screams of agony that Darren tried to ignore. The Death Gates created paths that were not for the living to tread. Black and purple smoke rose from the shivering tear.
It was now or never. Clutching his runeblade with both hands so he would not lose it while travelling, Darren stepped into the Death Gate.
He is immediately whipped into the smoke by gusts of ice cold wind and thrust across a great distance. The magic of the Gate whirls him across space and spits him back out before he realizes it.
"Oof!" The air was pressed out of his lungs as he landed on his belly. That had been a rough ride which was actually unusual for a Death Gate. It appeared he had been successful, though, as he found himself in a large chamber. The curved walls were made out of dark blue crystal, the massive desk and bookshelves were crystal, even the busts that depicted an admittedly handsome but somewhat vain looking stallion were crystal. Darren grinned wryly, scrambled to his feet and sheathed his sword.
The air was stale and dry from age. A dim green light illuminated the chamber through high windows. The eerie glow reminded Darren of the houses of Forsaken. Was this room half underground? A thin layer of dust covered every horizontal surface. Nobody else could be found, no footsteps had disturbed the dust layer before Darren had introduced his face to the study floor.
Darren hummed thoughtfully, wondering where the exit was and where it would lead. As he slowly walked through the quiet chamber, he felt a weight pressing onto his soul. After the howling snow storm and the Gate, the sudden silence felt deafening. The pony busts smirked at him as he let his gaze wander across the room, looking for a door. Some of them wore a crown.
There, an archway led to a staircase, all made of the same blue crystal. Darren moved his foot forward to climb the stairs when a sudden clinking made him stop. He had kicked something small into a corner. The object had sounded like glass. Darren found it under a dusty bookshelf.
It was a curved horn, maybe glass or crystal, and of a vibrant red. Maybe it had broken off of something, the jagged edge hinted towards that. A strange aura emanated from the horn, like a dark shadow. It was an unsettling feeling so Darren decided to inspect the object more thoroughly later on. If it was dangerous he would try to destroy it. He put the horn into his bag and returned to the staircase to look up into the stair tower. The steps wound into the darkness above, disappearing after a few yards. It was too dark to see far as the tower lacked any windows or openings. With a sigh, Darren drew his sword again. The cold blue mist which emanated from the runeblade would have to do as a torch.
As he approached the end of the staircase, Darren spotted a faint light that grew brighter with every step. He picked up the pace, climbing the small steps as fast as a could. As long as the light was there, maybe there was an open door, too. Good thing he could not run out of breath.
Finally, he climbed out of an opening in the ceiling. It appeared to be some kind of trapdoor. Darren was in the centre of an old throne room. Large, high windows made the room a bright, inviting place. This hall was well looked after; the crystal floors were polished so clean that Darren could see his reflection. The magnificent throne consisted of purple crystals and a high-backed chair but it was empty. A carpet led from a portal across the room straight to the throne. The rectangular opening through which Darren had emerged interrupted the path as if somebody had planned for the stairs to be a trap for unsuspecting guests. As the death knight stepped aside, the hole closed immediately. It was just gone as if it had never existed in the first place.
Darren shook his head incredulously. Had he just climbed out of a secret hideout? Who would hide a study room below a throne room? Maybe it was some kind of bunker in case of a coup.
Darren doubted it would look good if he was found sneaking around in a foreign throne room. He quickly followed the purple carpet to exit the hall. Carefully, he pressed against one door of the portal and pushed it open by a few feet.
"Hey, what are you -?" A surprised pony, clad in barding and holding a spear, flinched as he saw the tall bipedal creature that suddenly towered over him. Before he could finish his sentence or properly point his weapon at the intruder, Darren hit him on the helmet with the flat side of his sword. The stallion collapsed, unconscious. Darren quickly caught him and let him slide to the ground to avoid unnecessary noise. The guard had a build similar to that of Arcus Tangens so Darren assumed he had received proper training. He had a horn like Twilight but no wings so he had to be a unicorn. The pony's coat was strange; it glittered as if it was a precious stone. The stallion was slightly see-through, Darren could look at the floor through his hooves. Was he a crystal pony? Darren sighed inwardly. He had a feeling he would very soon be fed up with crystals.
"Sorry, pony," he muttered. Hopefully this had been the right thing to do. Hitting the guard had been more of a knee-jerk reaction than a thought out plan.
Darren looked around: The corridor only led into one direction. He followed it until he was at another door at the far end. This time, he was lucky and no pony guards were in sight. Where was everybody anyway? He descended a circular staircase until he found a smaller door which led to a less pompous hall. The cheers of a crowd came through the windows. Apparently, there was some kind of celebration outside. That would explain the empty throne room and the painfully low security. Darren went to a window - this one had no stained glass - and peered outside.
He could not see the crowd. Darren looked down into a deserted town square, seamed by smaller crystal houses. It seemed that the window was at the backside of a tall castle and the celebration was in front of the building. As he turned his gaze upwards, he recognized the spires. This must be the tallest building in the city. Darren was roughly twenty feet above the ground but the towers went far up into the sky. The palace was almost as big as Icecrown Citadel. Darren smirked, slightly impressed, and wondered if he could make the jump down to the square without injury.
He sheathed his sword and carefully climbed backwards out of the window. Hanging from the windowsill, he looked along the castle wall to find a cornice or moulding to jump to. Now that he was closer, he was sure that the drop to the square was above twenty-five feet. Sadly, the wall turned out to be as flat as a pancake. Darren sighed curtly and let go. With a loud thud, the knight hit the ground and and swiftly rolled over to keep the damage to his body minimal. His scabbard clattered against the even stone pavement. Darren huffed and got to his feet. So far, so good. Though his left ankle now stung a little and his hood had fallen back.
A terrified high-pitched gasp made Darren flinch. As he spun around, he found himself face to face with two little ponies. They stared into his cold blue glowing eyes with their mouths ajar, giving him the impression of deer caught in a carriage's headlights. The grey pegasus colt had a wooden toy shield with him that depicted a turquoise crystal heart. The filly was an earth pony with a bright orange crystally coat. She had just dropped her corn-on-the-cob.
The death knight quickly pulled the hood over his head and ran for the next alley.