The Epic of a Diamond Dog

by Ravencrofte


Ch. 15 part 1 Monsters, Old Enemies, And Death

Part 1

There was darkness. empty, eternal, and unyielding, smothering me in a coffin of silence. Then came the chains: clink, clink, clink. Claws clicked on stone. Water dripped from the darkness and splashed against the floor. Blood seeped across the floor, inching closer. I scrambled back. “Ember,” the voices whispered.

Things emerged from the darkness, with many mouths and twice as many eyes. Some appeared with intact bodies. Others dripped blood form gorish wounds. Still more sported sickening burns, their bodies an angry collage of brown, red, and black. “Ember,” they called.

The creatures were upon me, and I fought them back with tooth and claw. All they did was redouble their efforts. They yanked, and tore, and howled at me. “You killed us,” they screamed.

Individual faces extracted themselves from the masses. I could see dogs, and ponies, and rats. There was a dog I had killed back in the Firebrand village, and then there was Rapid Ranger, and Scrap, and the skinny mutt who’s head I’d taken, and more, and more, and more. They push, and clambered, and drowned me beneath their masses. Fat fingers encircled my throat.

I woke up howling, twisted up in my bedroll. I cast it aside, only to be confronted by a cold, empty night. All was silent and still.

Visions of blood and bodies still swam before my eyes. The night slowly replaced those images, but I could still hear their wails. A potent cocktail of dread and fear coursed through my system. I shuddered as waves of cold shivers racked my body.

Water dripped from my face and onto the sand. A closer inspection revealed a steady stream of tears. I hurriedly wiped them away.

It was a twilight morning: the time when darkness held firm and the world lingered in dreams. Crickets sang to the night. An owl hooted. Beside me, Kitty Hawk shifted, her pillow clutched against her chest as she watched me. “Ember, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I lied. I could feel her concern radiating out like the sun’s warmth. “Why would you think I was unwell?”

“You were thrashing in your sleep,” she said.

“I’m fine,” I assured her. There was no way I could convey the blade slowly twisting in my soul. How could I explain the phantoms that haunted me.

“Ok,” said Kitty Hawk and she laid back down. She fought to keep her eyes open, watching me, but soon she was snoring softly. I watched her in contemplative silence.

The vivid dream still haunted my memory. Returning to sleep held all the appeal of ramming my face into a cactus. Instead, I wrapped my arms around myself, intent on waiting for the night to pass. But my bladder had other ideas.

With a sigh, I quickly rose and made my way to the edge of the camp. This isolated area proved ideal for my needs. I raised one leg and let loose, signing with relief.

Behind me came the clink of metal on metal. Hastily I tried to pinch it off. I glanced left and right, craning my neck in search of an enemy. A pair of eyes stared at me from under the visor of a helmet. I instantly wished they belonged to an enemy

Honey Apple did little to hide her smirk. Even as my embarrassment showed clear, she did not avert her eyes. Her constant surveillance made it impossible to continue. “Can you excuse me?” I asked, raising one leg into the air. It was my hope that she would take the hint.

Appearly my message was not clear enough.“By all means, don’t let me stop you,” said Honey Apple. I glared at her but achieved little. At last she resumed staring off into space, casually leaning against her spear. I finished with much concentration and force of will. My business concluded, I starting back towards camp.

That mare could be infuriating at times. It was as if she knew more than was she was telling. So knowing, so aggravating. Was it even possible that I could challenge her for leadership of the caravan? Would ponies follow a Diamond Dog?

When I looked up again, I found myself back were I had started. It appeared my legs had taken the liberty of going where they pleased. With little else to do, I took a seat next to Honey Apple.

“How are you doing this fine morning, Ember the Hero?” she asked. “Taking a Hero’s piss?”

I growled at her. “Not you too! It was fine the first night, but now everypony wants to thank me and hug me, and give me stuff, and everything else. I didn’t do anything special.”

Honey Apple grinned. “Yes you did. You brought Fluorescent Nightingale back to us. We, and I, had given her up for dead.”

She took one look at my narrow, fierce expression and nearly keeled over from laughing. “Fine, fine,” she conceded. “I’ll drop the ‘Hero’ part. Best of luck convincing every other pony to do the same.”

We lapsed back into silence.

“Can’t sleep?” Honey Apple asked.

“ I'm already up,” I said. “No point in laying back down.” In truth, she was correct, but I didn’t want to admit as such. “What about yourself? Guarding the caravan?”

“No,” she replied, “I just like waiting in full armor for the sun rise.” I gave her a queer look. In reply, Honey Apple grinned and her eyes twinkled with mirth.

“I take it your words were meant as a joke?”

“Of course,” she said. Seeing my questioning look, she continued, “Even leaders should perform the menial tasks of a camp. I will never ask some pony to do something that I am not willing to do myself. On occasion even I will dig toilets and pull guard duty.”

There was plenty of wisdom to her words. It would be useful information when I took command of a pack. “I will remember that,” I said.

We returned to silence for some time, only broken by the clink of metal as Honey Apple shifted position. The dawn's light slowly turned the sky from black to blue. I could now see the desert, the sand, and beyond. A light breeze sent chills through my fur.

Honey Apple asked, “What are you planning to do once you get to Equestria?”

I looked at her and blinked. It wasn’t something I had devoted much thought to. With all the fleeing and fighting, actually getting to Equestria seemed more of a fantasy. But now, on the precipice, the end in sight, only one lingering question remained: what would I do?

Honey Apple read the silence and guessed at my thoughts. “I only asked because today is our last day in this desert. By tonight, we will be camping within the borders of the Pony Nation. Will you put away your sword, settle down, and become domesticated?”

“I don’t know what I will do,” I confessed. “That’s not something I can answer at this moment.” The prospect itself seemed very daunting.

Honey Apple continued, “If you want, I can help you get a job. Got a cousin in a little town called Ponyville. It’s pleasant, not too big. Far enough away from the main pony cities.”

With nothing else to suggest, I said, “It sounds like a place to start.”

A wonderful smell wove its way past my nose. I saw Honey Apple sniffing the air as well. “Smells like the kitchen is open,” she stated. Then her stomach growled, and she gave me a sheepish look.

“Would you like me to fetch you something?” I asked.

Honey Apple dismissed my offer with a wave of her hoof. “Neigh, a pony will be along shortly with my breakfast. Go and eat, hero.”

I glared at her. She smile back. I rolled my eyes. “If you say so,” I grumbled and turned towards camp.

The kitchen was alive and bustling with activity. I followed my nose to a bowling pot. The cook looked up from her work and I found a familiar face staring a me.

“Good morning, Lily Blossom,” I said. She smiled and enthusiastically waved at me, garbling a “hello uth tu Ember uth helo,” around a wooden spoon held in her mouth. I rolled my eyes, but where she couldn’t see it. I continued, “Smells good.”

Lily Blossom set her spoon down. “Please, hero, come and eat. It’s just beans, lentils, butter, cream, honey, and oats. I didn't know dogs liked pony food.”

Doing my best to ignore the “hero” bit, I nodded with all the sagely wisdom of my years. “True,” I agreed, “but a hungry dog will eat almost anything put before him. If it's hot and filling, I can manage the taste.” Wordlessly Lily Blossom poured me a bowl. I took it and began to eat while forgoing the offered spoon.

The mare had been right in one respect: the meal was catered to the taste of ponies and not dogs. Regardless, I returned an empty bowl. Putting on my best smile, I said, “Much appreciated.”

I quickly turned and left before Lily Blossom could offer seconds. Once out of sight, I scraped my tongue with a finger and did my best to wash the taste from my mouth. Pony fare indeed. It was in desperate need of fat, gristle, and chewy flesh.

Suddenly the morning was shattered by a screaming pony. The unicorn in question came flying up from her camp, kicking her blanket away and putting as much distance between herself and the offending fabric. “Snake!” she announced, pointing at her bed.

I stocked over to where she indicated and threw back the blanket. A copper-colored snake looked back at me. It flicked its tongue, eyes and head fixated on me, rattle shaking threateningly. A quick search produced a shovel, and I brought it down upon the serpent. I struck it again and again until it stopped moving. Raising the snake up high, I showed the camp my prize.

The frightened unicorn had returned. She tentatively inched closer, looked between me and the snake. “That was quite unnecessary, Ember the Hero. You didn’t have to kill the poor thing.”

I flashed my canines at her. “It is necessary if you plan to eat it,” I said. Task complete, I headed back to Lily Blossom with my breakfast in hand. I might even make use of my new-found fame and get a Hero’s breakfast.

____________________________________________

We broke camp before the sun had risen above the horizon and continued our trek north. I trailed just behind the lead cart, with Kitty Hawk at my side providing a never-ending stream of commentary. She continued, “When we get to Equestria, you can eat ice cream, and chocolate, and more ice cream. And then there is candy and donuts.” It was plain to see where her thoughts lay.

The morning chill soon gave way to a sweltering heat. I drank from my water skin, panting to stave off the heat. “And then there are cookies, oh, I love cookies, and then sweet buns, and dumplings,” said Kitty Hawk.

The little pony skipped at my side, undeterred by my silence. She pressed on with her one-sided conversation: “Waffles, and pancakes, and cloud cake. Mom always preferred cloud cake, but on his birthday dad always asked for carrot cake.”

There was such a shocking silence that I feared Kitty Hawk had fallen down a hole. I was even more distressed to find her walking beside me, head down, and kicking up sand with a hoof. I asked, “Is something the matter?”

Kitty Hawk kept her eyes on the sand. She remain quiet for so long that I feared she had not heard me. I was about to repeat the question when she spoke. “Mom and dad,” came her reply at barely more than a whisper.

I moved closer to her, doing my best to comfort the young pony without stopping. I said, “In all our time spent together, you have never spoken but a few words about your parents. Why now? Is it because we are near your home?”

When she did look at me, her eyes brimmed with tears. “It's because I wanted to avoid thinking about them,” she wailed. Now her tears ran freely and soaked the sand.

Without a second thought I scooped her up into my arms. She didn't even protest as I held her close to my chest. “I'm so sorry,” I said.

Kitty Hawk wiped her eyes on my fur. “We got separated during your surprise attack. I panicked and tried to fly away. After I was captured, I was really scared, and lost. I tried not to think about them because that only made me cry even more. You were so very nice to me that it helped me forget I had lost my parents.” She buried her head into my chest and sobbed. Many ponies looked my way but none interjected, except for Fluorescent Nightingale who offered up a piece of melting chocolate.

My charge nibbled on the sweet thoughtfully. Once finished, and when most of the chocolate was off her face, she continued: “I know Mama would never stop looking for me, and Papa would be by her side trying to comfort her. I can’t imagine what life has been like for them since we got separated. Maybe they think I’m dead.”

Hold her close, I quietly admitted: “I’m sorry, Kitty Hawk: I’m sorry you got separated from your parents, I’m sorry you were so scared, I’m sorry for everything that has happened. It’s all my fault. I’m the one that brought you down. I am the one that broke your wing. I am at fault.”

Kitty Hawk looked up at me, trying her best to form a grin. “I know. I’ve always known.”

I gaped at her, trying to find the right thing to say, but words eluded me. Kitty Hawk reached up a hoof and shut my jaw. She said, “It’s ok, Ember, I forgive you.” I finally cried. She cried. We hugged each other close.

When all our tears were gone, I finally put Kitty Hawk down. “I’m going to get you home,” I said. Kitty Hawk smiled, an infectious grin that split her face. She cried, “Last one to Equestria is a rotten egg!” and took off at a dead sprint. I chased after her, laughing and grinning like a loon.

For just a few precious moments, I forgot the world. We ran wild and free, not thinking of the the blazing sun, nor our violent and often bloody journeys to leave the dog empire. For that brief window of time, I chased Kitty Hawk across the sand without a care in the world.

We only stopped only when we ran out of sand. The desert barrier, a great shimming wall of magic, blocked our path. It glistened in the sun like a single sheet of glass. I pressed a paw against its surface. Small waves rippled out in all directions.

Beyond the barrier, beyond the line in the sand, lay a world that would be equal parts amazing and alien from the life I was leaving behind. Gone would be the my old life. The stories I had learned as a pup would die long with it, replaced by new tales spoken by foreign groups in a foreign land. Without my culture, with my kin, and land, would I even still be a dog?

“What are you waiting for? Come on, silly,” said Kitty Hawk. She disappeared into the barrier. Leave it to the young to smash thoughtful insight and soul-searching with the subtleties of a hammer.

Once again, I felt the barrier cling to me. It clawed and grabbed, trying to force me back. I pushed on. The viscous mass steadily gave way. And then I was on the other side.

I was immediately attacked by the smell of Green, and Wet, Rich Earth, the chitters of birds and the scurry of furry critters. The sudden assault left me feeling dizzy. I collapsed onto my butt, simply stunned into silence. The forest around me made time look young: giant wood pillars supported the sky, branches criss-crossed above in spidery webs, roots crawled across the ground, and the ground wasn't ground at all, but layers upon layers of decaying vegetation.

There was a ripple in the air beside us, and a pony stepped through. It was a pegasus type, with bandages on one flank and a wing in a sling. I grimaced at her wounds. The pony spoke, and I instantly connected her to the one called Minty, my scout and escort from the night before. She said “Hello, Hero. Is this your first time seeing the Forest of Ghastly Gorge?”

“It is quite amazing,” I said, once more reframing from rolling my eyes. After a moment's hesitation, I simply nodded in acceptance of the title. “I have never seen anything like it before.” My eyes followed a particularly monstrous tree as it rose up and up into the darkened canopy. “I could spend many days here and not tire of of its splendor.”

Minty replied, “This is just one of Equestria’s many forests. Enjoy it while we pass through, but we are not staying. Just ahead there is the Friendship River. Once we cross it, we will travel to the small farming community of Ponyville and then onto Canterlot.”

I nodded in agreement. Tonight, I would have to ask Honey Apple to pull up the map and show me the lands that lay ahead. “I will have to return and explore it on my own,” I commented to no one in particular.

The forest made it painfully clear, after I smacked my head into a low-hanging branch, that I should pay attention to where I was walking. Indeed, the entire place was full of sticks and brambles and potholes and other little hazards. Branches reached down with spindly fingers and scraped my hide. In many places, we had to force our way through the deep brush. But soon the vegetation and trees faded away and large open prairie lay before us.

Kitty Hawk was the first to spot something wrong. She had taken to the relatively empty sky but quickly returned to us. “Ember,” she said, eyes wide and gesturing towards the prairie, “there are wagons scattered in the tall grass. I think I even saw a pony or two, but they are all bloated and ugly. I didn't see any movement .”

“Oh sweet Celestia,” said Minty, suddenly looking quite pale. “Was there a crescent moon on the side of the wagons? Was it the Sunset Caravan?” She pranced from hoof to hoof.

Kitty Hawk took a frightened step back. “I don’t know,” she confessed. She slid ever closer to me as Minty became even more agitated.

The mare tried to turn in place. Her wagon groaned from the strain. Frantically, the pony unhitched herself. “I will go back and tell the caravan,” she said, kicking up a cloud of dust as she sprinted back into the woods.

Kitty Hawk looked to me. “What do we do?” she asked.

Looking around, with no weapons or armor, and no allies to be seen, I made my decision. “Follow me,” I said and dropped to my belly. Slowly, deliberately, I slithered my way through the tall grass.

I parted a large clump of grass and immediately wished I hadn’t. We were upwind from the body, and I hadn’t smell it until now. The nauseating odor clung to the air, so potent I could almost touch it. My stomach tried to climb out of my mouth. Only by sheer force of will did I force it back down.

The carcass lay on its side: head down, eyes closed, and tongue out. The limbs were scattered in all directions, but worse of all was the dark, empty belly cavity. The pony’s once-yellow coat was now more grey, with bright purple splotches scattered across its surface. The whole thing was dull and quiet, with only the brief hush of the grass to disturb it.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. My hackles rose, and I felt the beginning of a low growl form in my throat. There was something missing, and I couldn’t put my paw on it. I stared, looking, listening, but only greeted with silence.

Silence: even in death the corpse should have been vibrant with life. There was no buzz of insects or the circle of carrion birds. Just the empty body, quite and still.

I turned from the dead pony. “Come on, Kitty Hawk,” I said, picking another path around and away from the corpse. “Stay close to me. And don’t touch anything, got it?”

She didn’t reply. When I frantically looked around, I found Kitty Hawk sitting next to the corpse, staring into its open belly. To my horror, she slowly, tentatively, reached out a hoof.

“No!” I cried and bolted towards her, but I was too late. To my horror I saw her poke the body. Almostly instantly, she pulled it away. I froze, watching her and then the dead pony.

“Ember?” said Kitty Hawk, holding up her hoof for inspection. “It’s cold.” There was frost covering her toe.

When nothing happened, I released the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. “Come here,” I said and forcefully pulled Kitty Hawk into my arms. Turning away, I began to scold her. But a snap and a pop froze me into silence. Slowly I turned toward the sound.

The skin rippled and bones shifted. It moved here and there: the twitch of a leg, the shift of the head, or the swish of the tail. Unholy sounds echoed from inside the corpse. Then, the head rose up and turned towards us. It gazed into my soul through twin black orbs. The mouth opened and said, “I see you, Ember.”