//------------------------------//
// Requiem 
// Story: The Sacrifice 
// by Blackhaert 
//------------------------------//

Twilight glanced between the deep shadows formed from craggy outcroppings, as if waiting for an ambush, in these rocky badlands, far beyond the safety of civilised Equestria, caution was a way of life. Twilight cursed herself, wishing that there was a way to learn another kind of magic, she felt a shiver of fear as she realized she was effectively magicless with a Hivemind. As Twilight realized this, she became conscious of the churning wellspring of magic within herself. Everytime she had attempted to use it, the spell had ended up far too powerful for her to properly harness within a spell form. It was as if when she actually used it there was nothing there, until she tried to force it, and then it ended up disastrous.

As Crypsis and Twilight made their way through the ash strewn battlefield, Twilight thought of her ongoing research into how her own magic worked, and quietly cursed herself that she had left it at home in her studies along with her current research project, the return of something called the Knight of Sorrow. 

Twilight recalled that in some of her research, her Mentor, Celestia had to magically banish a fallen order of Knights who followed the Knight of Sorrows. By the time Celestia had banished the heretical order and its champion, the peaceful land of Equestria had suffered a long war. Many weapons of war had been manufactured at the time to fight off the forces of the Knight of Sorrows, but in the following centuries, the knowledge and factories that were involved in the creation of said weapons had been forgotten.

Twilight shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Celestia had told her countless times to focus upon the world around her. 

She focused on the entity walking before her. Crypsis, a servitor of the Hive, a feral and archaic species of creature. Seeming as if it had realized she was staring at it, the creature turned to look at her with its scathing olive green eyes. “You should scavenge some gear. Our destination is a few nights travel from here.” Crypsis rasped, and seeming as if he was tasting the air, he then remarked “And, we’re not alone. Don’t make a lot of noise.”

Twilight looked at Crypsis confused, and then heard the quiet claws of creatures in the still battlefield around her. Hundreds of Hive crept along the battlefield, stopping at each of the dead, harvesting the emotive energy of the creatures that died. The magic they wielded in harvesting the energy was a sickly green color, similar to Crypsis’s eyes. Twilight held her bile as she felt the waves of the Hive magic wash over her. She saw other creatures, black against the eternally gray landscape, also feasting indiscriminately upon flesh of the dead. There would be no honor burial for the dead here. Twilight winced at the thought. Howling screeches could be heard across the wide distances. 

After another ten minutes of walking, Twilight felt numb to the scenes around her. She saw a group of the dead soldiers, and recalling Crypsis’ advice, meticulously gathered a pack and several days of rations for herself. Setting the pack loaded with food square upon her back, Twilight turned and followed Crypsis who paused, waiting for her to finish packing. It then led her in a southern heading, further away from Equestria. Mechanically, she she kept an eye out for other supplies as they travelled through the battlefield. She kept her silence as the wailing of the creatures continued on. She could feel a vague sense of grief in the howls, and felt like it overwrote her the inkling of emotion she felt. Twilight did not believe she could rest in this place.

Twilight realized that the gray stone seemed to light up under the light of a waning crescent of a moon. As she stared at the ground before her, mechanically choosing her steps to maximize efficiency, the gray turned slightly green. Twilight’s gaze briefly turned skyward, an aurora of green lazily drifted through the sky. As she stared, she stopped, and saw tortured caricatures of mortal faces, like some sort of hellish vision. She knew she should have been terrified, but could only seem to acknowledge the mysterious event above her. She figured it resulted from all the emotion harvesting being done this night. The fledgling wizard turned her eyes to the Hivemind before her, who had began to make distance between itself and her. As she caught up, she saw that it now resembled a young male mortal in a shawl. Crypsis’ skin was faintly green with a series of darker dots across the bridge of his nose and his upper cheeks.

Crypsis resembled an elf, one of the magical folk. Like herself. The realization unnerved her, before the feeling was washed over by the sense of unease. Twilight did not even see how Crypsis had changed shape. Twilight continued to watch the Hivemind, and noticed that Crypsis’ eyes would faintly glow green in dark shadows, formed by the crags that broke up the harsh terrain and uneven ground. Twilight reflected upon this, and inferred that the glowing was evidence of the Hive’s darkvision. The Hivemind would ultimately unnerve her, she decided.
As the Night began to draw to an end, Dawn began to glimmer over the eastern horizon. The Night had passed in silence, and the battlefield now laid a few hours behind them. However, it seems that the fallout of Twilight’s fireball could still be seen in the ash that had settled gently upon the now gravelly landscape.

As light began to paint the horizon an cavalcade of orange and reds against a blue sky, Crypsis laid out a dark gray blanket, which was lashed to his belt, and pulled its hood over its face, completely obscuring it. Within moment, he had fallen into a freakish high pitched whistling-like snore. Twilight, no longer within the proximity of the strange aurora, could not decide whether to laugh or feel concerned.

Sitting on her commandeered bed roll, Twilight snarfed through one of her rations. As the sun finally rose above the horizon and painted the sky a crisp baby blue, Twilight smiled as she felt Solar magic fill her. She felt a warmth that made her smile faintly despite Crypsis’ bizarre snore. She still, however, felt exhausted from the overnight trek. And still had a ways to go. 

As Twilight pulled the scratchy blankets over her tired form, she thought about the ancient pistol snug in its holster. She briefly thought about firing the gun at Crypsis while it slept, and let it do its grim work. And head back to Canterlot with his head. However, she was curious as to what a Hive Queen would want with her, so she decided against it. In hindsight, Twilight considered it was possible that Crypsis could sense her murderous intent. As Twilight thought about the hand cannon itself, she slightly smiled. The Hand Cannon had been on display up in the Canterlot Archives for most of her life. She was given the pistol by the archivist as a sort of congratulatory gift when she became Celestia’s personal student. A little piece of home amidst these badlands. She then fell asleep as exhaustion overcame her.