//------------------------------// // Chapter Sixty-Two: The Sun Sets // Story: A Rather Large Adventure // by BradyBunch //------------------------------// Tempest Shadow was not usually one to complain. As acting lieutenant of the Storm King himself, she had learned to put up with his childishness and to accept life in stride. The only plans that mattered in the world were the ones she could bring to fruition. But being kidnapped by these ponies, getting her nose broken three separate times, and getting locked in her own cage, all while failing to incapacitate Twilight Sparkle, was not a plan she wanted to come to fruition, to say the absolute least. Lately, as the promise of having her magic restored seemed closer and closer than before, she had morphed from her laid-back attitude towards a willingness to do whatever it took to restore what should have been hers. If not, what once was special to her would be lost! Nopony would think differently, had they been in her spot! So she did feel like complaining, sitting cramped, alone, and in the dark, with nothing to call her own but warm drafts of wind in the spacious holding compartment. Her face was still hurting. She had tried not to move it from the day before, but it still made her wince when she pulled her face the wrong way. She was ashamed of momentarily showing her weakness, too. Asking for a painkiller, begging, being stupid, as the ponies were dragging her into a cage? How pathetic. Just because your nose was broken doesn't mean you are, Tempest! So she remained strong and aloof, regardless of her present circumstance. So what if she was in a cage. That made no difference to her. After all, she hadn't decided that. She was okay with it. She was hungry, and cramped, of course, but she never voiced her discomfort. Tempest had been taught better than that by the Storm King. A rectangle of light appeared high above her like the heavens were opening, and Tempest squinted in the sudden light as two ponies entered the tremendous cage room and slammed the door shut behind them, trapping her back in red-tinted darkness again. Their hooves sounded on the gangplank leading down. Soon they were on the same level as Tempest. And out of all the ponies she didn't want to see, it was these two. Well, it could have been worse. That orange pegasus could have also come along. "All hail the princess of friendship," Tempest drily intoned. "See how she comes with no friends." "All hail the Storm King's lieutenant," Shining Armor replied with equal animosity. "See how she has no one to command." Tempest had nothing else to say in response. "We've got some things we want to talk about," Twilight said. "The Storm King and his plans with Marshal Malice." "I'm surprised you aren't offering me tea for this discussion," Tempest remarked. "Are you going to make snotty comebacks for the entire time?" Shining Armor demanded. "Maybe. Try talking to me, and you'll find out yourself." "What is your opinion of Marshal Malice?" Tempest gave a grimace. "Twilight, Twilight. You don't need me to spell this out for you. He's a despicable villain who's deluded by his own visions of grandeur. You two must get along swell." "We don't, surprisingly." "Malice said he wanted you, but not in particular. He thinks you're the weakest princess out of all four. Which makes me wonder how easy it would be to tangle with Cadence or Luna." "You won't get that chance anytime soon, Tempest." "You're taking me to Canterlot, aren't you? That's a rather stupid decision on your part. The Storm King would invade Canterlot and reduce the castle to cinders to take me back." "Would he?" Shining Armor dared. "He cares for me," Tempest said. She tried her best to conceal the deeper truth beneath it all: that she had only allowed him, and only him, to care for her. Apparently, the princess was more perceptive than she let on. "He raised you." There was no reason to lie. "Once upon a time." She sighed. "That's how fairy tales start." "Your fairy tale won't have a happy ending," Shining Armor snapped. Tempest understood his short temper. She had been the one to lock him in this very cage she was in. She knew his lack of sympathy was justified. "You all are living a fairy tale as well," Tempest asserted. Might as well impart some wisdom to them. "And fairy tales won't come to life so easily. Playing pretend is a stupid, wasteful way of living your life. Perhaps it's better to wake up and expose yourself to the miserable truth rather than remain a dupe to illusions your entire life." Twilight began to walk around the cage like a prowling animal. "What if the truth isn't so miserable?" "The more miserable you feel, the closer to Nirvana you get," Tempest said. "Life is pain. Anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to sell you something." "That's true," Twilight admitted, "but why put yourself under undue stress if you don't have to? Life also provided a way for us to not face those challenges alone. It's called-" "-friendship," Tempest mocked, rolling her milky green eyes. "Oh, Twilight. You princesses are all the same. Idealistic and stubborn. If you always depend on others, you have no strength to stand on your own. Friends, family--they're like a crutch. Without it, you can't do anything. True freedom is being able to do whatever you can to rise in power." "I'm sorry, who's being stubborn?" Shining Armor began. "Hush," Twilight stopped, and Shining Armor shut his mouth. Twilight reached her hoof through the bars of the cell. Tempest could bat at it like a cat if she wanted to. "Have you ever experienced friendship before?" "When I was younger," Tempest replied curtly. "But my friends abandoned me when times got tough." "So what if we're imperfect," Twilight admitted. "The beliefs we strive to follow are true nonetheless! So you were left alone. What if...we could change that?" Tempest felt a guilty lurch inside her stomach. "No, I don't think so." She happened upon a way to deflect the conversation. "How's that pony I shot in the butt earlier?" "He's healed," Twilight said with a grin. "He's healed from every single injury he ever received, and he'll retain that power for his entire life." That part surprised Tempest. Twilight had no reason to bluff, and it looked natural, too. The problem was… "How?" Tempest whispered. "The Elements of Harmony," Twilight said, picking at her other hoof. "In other words, friendship." Now those Tempest had heard about. She rubbed the top of her broken horn, thinking quickly. Maybe… "I know what you're thinking," Twilight said. "It won't work. It's Freedom Fighter's power alone." She sighed. "Damn it," she breathed, clenching a hoof. Twilight winced at the language. Tempest noticed. "Seriously?" She managed to let out a small laugh. "That's what you can't stand? Swear words?" "I'd appreciate it if you didn't use that kind of language." "What are you going to do to stop me?" Tempest asked, letting a taunting edge to creep in. "Equestria really is soft if you don't even use that kind of language daily." "I'm happy living in Equestria, thank you very much." "Happy, but blind," Tempest said. "Happiness is just something we make up to make this world bearable. It isn't real. Neither is courage, or honor, or sacrifice. Not even redemption. Life, and the time we spend in it, is an illusion. But take some time, see the light, and you'll see the truth for yourself." Twilight slammed her hoof into the cage so hard Tempest fell unceremoniously on her butt. Having a good look at her now, Tempest could see that the look the smaller mare was giving her was as hard as steel, and hot as hellfire. "Don't you think I HAVEN'T seen your stupid truth?!" Twilight demanded. Tempest could indeed see the loss in her eyes, the longing pain behind the fierce fury. But Tempest was still confused. If that was the case, then why wasn't she… "Tempest, listen closely. I went to another reality where we were all different creatures. Me and my friends were teenage girls in high school. We had fun. We took tests. We laughed, played, danced, met cute boys...and now they're all dead." Twilight's gaunt face was undeniably hollow. "They're dead, all of them, because of the black insects you call allies. They shot my friends with crossbows and tried to suck on their warm blood! I was murdered twice that day. One time by a crossbow bolt. The other time, I died inside when I saw everyone else dead. I have more right than anyone else I know to know the truth." Tempest was seeing more of herself in this mare than she had previously wanted to admit. "And you know why they did it? Why did they die? To save me. My friends died to protect me. So maybe I do know the truth of this world after all. The world is a dark and cruel place. But we can make it less evil if we reach out to the ones like you that make it so!" "I'm doing what I can to survive!" "So stop surviving and start living instead!" That made Tempest quiet. "And after finding out that so-called 'truth' that the world stinks, don't you think I haven't found joy nonetheless?" Twilight pressured, pacing around the cage more. "I have wonderful friends who would fight for my right to do what I will with them, and they'll stick with me no matter what may come our way. And to top it off, just today, the greatest warrior in the history of the land was renewed for a second chance at life! If that's not truth, what is?" "That is power, silly little pony." "Power comes from the truth." "Who taught you that?" "A friend of mine. Her name's Applejack." Tempest could see their conversation was getting nowhere. But there was something about her, the certainty with which she asserted herself, that got her thinking. If it worked so well for her...why did it not for her? "Do you have any more to tell us about the Storm King and his plans?" Shining Armor asked. Tempest had almost forgotten he was there, to be honest. "No." "Well, we'll be back, and I would recommend you remember some more," Twilight said, turning around. Before she left, she chimed her horn to life, and in front of her, three apples appeared with separate pops. Turning around again, she floated the fruit to Tempest's cage. "Firestorm didn't want to give you anything at all," Twilight said, and her tone was softer somewhat. "I'm not like him." And she followed her older brother out of the room and closed the door. Tempest batted at the apples in her cage. Would it be a breach of conduct if she accepted food from her captors? What would the Storm King say? She rolled two of them out of her cage in disgust of Twilight's generosity, her pity. Before she could bring herself to release the third one, however, she stopped and considered. She needed to stay alive. It was the only way to rebel against life, which wanted to take your life away. So, miserably, she began to eat from the juicy fruit. In no time, it was gone. Her stomach, woken up, longed for more. Discipline, she told herself. Maintain discipline over your body. But...that apple was good. And Twilight had given them to her as...a gift...When was the last time the Storm King had given her a gift? Tempest concentrated. Her horn sparked and sizzled with unstable energy. Maybe, just maybe, she could… Releasing it, her magic shot through the bars of the cage and struck an apple. The apple instantly singed. Tempest sighed and curled up in her cage once more. If there was nothing she could do, she wouldn't do anything. It was just that simple. Strangely enough, that wasn't how Twilight felt. How did it feel like to resist against the inevitable? Tempest wanted to know. The sunset was lighting the sky afire, torching the clouds around them with vibrant flame. The clouds themselves were just below the deck of the airship, giving the impression that the ship was gliding through roiling waves of foggy, sun-touched water. Twilight was on the bow of the ship, her mane flapping behind her, gazing ahead with no expression visible. Her violet eyes registered the mythical surroundings, but her mind chose not to focus on them. Several hooffalls sounded behind her, with a clink every other step. Twilight didn't need to see who it was approaching. She felt a chill run down her spine for whatever reason. "Twilight." Freedom Fighter's voice was encouraging. "I was looking for you. What have you been doing all day?" The alicorn spared him a glance. His golden body shone against the orange and pink clouds on every side, and his scarlet eyes were alluringly vibrant. With some effort, Twilight turned away to stare ahead again. "I was...in the cabin. Plotting a course to take us back to Canterlot. We'll have to take a route past Appaloosa." Freedom Fighter came right next to her, a soft smile grazing his appearance. "I was with the others. Laughing. Smiling. Talking. Then I went to my quarters and banged my head to dubstep for an hour and a half." "Right," Twilight reminded herself. "You got a tape of music from Vinyl Scratch." "It's great," he said. He closed his eyes, breathed through his nose, and sighed. "I miss her." "Vinyl?" Twilight asked with some surprise. "You barely knew her." "That's why I miss her," Freedom said. "I wanted to know her more." Twilight had to concede the point. Made sense. "Besides...I'm used to losing ponies close to me. I put other ponies into simple abstractions. Are they allies or enemies? And so I keep myself from being broken when they get torn from me, just like everything else." He blinked. "At least, until I met you. You're...special." "How?" she asked, disinterested. "I see a bit of myself in you, Twilight. You're no mere abstraction. And neither are your friends." "Thanks…" she mumbled. She wanted to be alone. Why wouldn't he go away? "And...what about you?" Freedom said to Twilight. "Hm?" "What are you thinking of?" Twilight stared past the sea of puffy clouds the ship was parting through. She said nothing. "Hm. Staring, huh? I know what that's like." Freedom Fighter clenched his metal hoof and unclenched it. It made barely any sound, nary a whirr nor a clank. He spoke up again: "You're feeling loss." "No, I'm not." "Of course you said no. Nopony admits to feeling loss. I know it better than anyone else." "Freedom...did you ever know how much the human girls meant to me?" "Enough to know you had nightmares because of it." "Not just nightmares. Freedom, I...I loved them. I invested myself with them, and fought the sirens alongside them. There was even a boy I liked. And just when everything was going to go right…" Twilight smacked one hoof into another. "Boom. All gone. Just...gone." "The world is unfair, Twilight." Tempest Shadow sprung to mind. "I know." Freedom Fighter stared beyond the horizon, and the vivid light caught itself in his iris. "But it's also beautiful." Twilight raised an eyebrow. Out of all people she expected to hear that from... "It took me a bit of time to see," Freedom admitted plainly. "But...well, take a look. Who can say these colors, this atmosphere, isn't stunning?" The palette only reminded her of the human girl she had reformed and lost in a fiery explosion. Twilight felt her throat constrict. "I know it's beautiful," Twilight said. "I know it is." "Who are you thinking about?" Wow, Freedom Fighter could read her better than she thought. "Sunset Shimmer," Twilight choked. She leaned on Freedom Fighter's side. He was warm, and his body was firm and soft like a memory pillow. The two ponies stayed like that as the sun dipped below the waves off to the left. The fiery palette of pink, orange, and bright red made a gradual, easy transition to pale blue, soft pink, and deep violet. When those colors appeared around them and plunged the world into the brink of darkness, Freedom Fighter began to stroke her mane with his right hoof. Twilight didn't complain. "The sunset was beautiful," Freedom whispered. Twilight nodded. The feelings towards Sunset hadn't faded away, but it was nice to know that someone like her knew what she was experiencing. "...And twilight is absolutely stunning," Freedom finished. Twilight, sparing a stunned glance, saw that his toned golden body stood out a lot more against the dark purple of the oncoming night. "Twilight is my favorite time of the day. The colors are so soothing and dreamy. It's...hypnotizing to me, the longer I look. I only started to think that way after I met you, though." Twilight, weak in the knees, turned her head, and Freedom Fighter was smiling, a hint of pink on his cheeks. Twilight felt something leap in her chest. What was happening? Freedom Fighter sighed and looked away from her, shaking his head. His mane jumped back and forth. Twilight felt an urge to caress it. "What waits for us beyond the horizon?" Freedom asked. "What will Noble Blade face to win an Element of Honor?" "We'll make sure he gets it," Twilight assured him. She didn't want to be on the topic any more. She wanted to lean on him again! "...I love him, Twilight," Freedom admitted. His eyes had grown larger somehow. "I realize it now. He's done nothing but look out for me. He swore it to his father. And so have you, you also looked out for me. You loved me. And the rest of the girls, too." He paused. "And Firestorm. Forgot about him." Twilight almost laughed, had she not witnessed Firestorm's emphatic retaliation against Tempest Shadow. "I've almost forgotten...I'm the Element of Sacrifice...because people would sacrifice anything to help me. Just as much as I would sacrifice anything...for you." Twilight felt her heart quiver in her chest. Freedom Fighter closed his grip around Twilight's hoof and squeezed. Twilight didn't complain a bit. The moon had risen high by then. Twilight and Freedom Fighter basked in its glow. No more words were said between them. What needed to be? Behind a porthole in the cabin, looking out on the two ponies on the bow of the ship, a solitary figure uttered a short squeal of celebration and stamped her hooves on the floor. "Hah!" Pinkie whispered in triumph, pumping the air with a hoof. "Called it! The ship has set sail, everypony! The ship has set sail on this sailing ship!" Marshal Malice erupted from the surface of the black water, heaving and gasping, and crawled on nine legs onto the beach surrounding Mount Aris, coughing up streams of awful salt water that tasted like a bad piss. The beach comprised of tall pillars of rock on harsh sand that got into his open wounds. The water washing up on the sand was stained red with vile blood. He looked around. His magnificent, beautiful dragon's corpse was lying sprawled, mangled, bloodied, on a nest of long, jagged stones off to his left. The tide had evidently swept both of them to the shore. Malice lifted his sopping wet head to gaze up. The long spire of stone he had created from the mountain itself was still jutting out at an odd angle. An airship was still impaled on the end. Oily smoke drifted from Mount Aris and from the gloomy night sky itself. The Storm King's mess of airships was drifting around aimlessly, and there were much fewer of them than before. It looked lifeless, not in the mood for a celebration. Malice didn't even need to use his magic to scan for the princess's life force. It definitely wasn't here. Evidently, those ponies had gotten away. Malice roared in frustration. How he wished he had that miserable satyr next to him so he could throttle him! This was the perfect chance, and these idiots, these scum-soaked dung stumps, weren't even powerful enough to take on ten little weak stupid ponies! Malice had lost more from the previous day than he had in the past ten years. Hundreds of Noxxa, one of his arms, and his dragon! And to make things worse, the Unforgiven had appeared, like a specter from his nightmares, and vanished much the same way! To top it all off, that infidel Storm King couldn't even do his job and secure Twilight Sparkle! Malice spared a pitying glance at Bloodlust's corpse, illuminated by moonlight. The mighty beast had a noble purpose in his long life. He didn't deserve to be killed by the Unforgiven. That pony was a living, breathing evil! The devil Faust in pony form! If there was only a way to ascend once more beyond the evils of ponykind... And Malice knew what he had to do. He hated to do it. It meant admitting he wasn't strong enough on his own. But he wasn't like the vile, licentious crowd of stupid ponies or griffons. He recognized reality when he saw it. He needed help. Summoning his magic, he focused, not outward to the world, but inward, to reach his Lord and master. That was the beautiful thing about Solaris. For one, He had no form. He was immaterial, formless, everywhere and nowhere at once. His virtue could permeate every facet of this awful world Faust had made, this filthy world of choices and good and bad. He could make His children simply not have the option to choose evil or good. They would just follow Him, unquestioningly, wordlessly, and He would lead them all to salvation--as He had promised in heaven! Why were these ponies so blind as to not see that? It was a free ticket to exaltation, but the ponies, stupid, wasteful, evil, wanted to reach heaven the hard way. So, Malice would acquiesce to their demands and give them a hard time. They had to regret ever choosing the stupid option of following Faust at all. He was the only one who could both sense the truth and have the strength to defend it from these infidels. He was the chosen one, and Freedom Fighter was his personal devilish, carnal tempter, his damnation. He was the chosen one. And he needed to follow the Lord's will. His magic had reached the empty level of a black hole by now, collapsing in on himself, reaching out to the one true God until even Solaris could not ignore his prayer. What is thy desire, my son? his master asked. It was deep, warped, distorted, dark, and evil. He clearly wasn't in a good mood. "Master," he growled with effort. His magic was straining to maintain the connection. "Give me a portion of thy almighty power, and I shall deliver the Unforgiven and Twilight Sparkle into thy loving grasp!" Thou hast failed me before, Solaris pointed out. Thou disappointest me in thy efforts. Time and time again, thou hast failed to obey me. Malice, straining with all his effort, began to fear for his eternal damnation the instant the final word was spoken. But perhaps thy failures are a result of thy lack of power, Solaris conceded. And thou hast tried thy hardest to obey mine commands. Unwaveringly, thou hast fought against the traitors of this world. I cannot let thee go unrewarded. Malice felt like his heart was about to leap from his chest into his throat. Joy was buzzing in his brain like fiery spirits. Serve me well with this gift, Solaris said, and together you and I shall punish these traitorous sons and daughters. And at last they shall all be saved in my kingdom of glory, where wealth and love abound, and their flaming tongues of holy fire shall sing my praises for saving them. They shall see then that their suffering is for their own good. I come quickly. Have the Corrupted Element ready for me when I do. So it shall be spoken, so it shall be done. Malice felt immense power rushing into him, like a pitcher overflowing with water, and opened his eyes. All of them were empty abysses of black energy. His fanged mouth was dripping with the stuff, spilling onto his chest. Malice stumbled over to his dragon's corpse, staggering like a drunkard. Leering over his mount, he sank his needlelike fangs into a wide open wound on the dragon's neck, thick as a tree stump. Dark energy coiled between the gaps in his teeth and spilled onto the dragon's inert body. Malice roared in the back of his mouth and sucked. Hard. Blood came rushing in, cold and old and stale. Combining with the dark magic in his mouth, Malice felt the essence fuse itself with him. He willed more blood from the dragon to come forth, and the blood in the beast obeyed. The dragon before his eyes began to shrivel away as blood poured into his mouth. At the same time, as liter after liter of blood poured into his body, he felt himself changing. It was like going through a painful metamorphosis. The dragon blood, aided by the universe's dark energy and the pure will of a god, fused effortlessly into him. Malice drank and drank from his dragon, and dark energy poured from his eyes and mouth. He was drooling and crying the stuff. Blood ran in rivulets down the pale scales of the dragon, getting in cracks before coalescing on the dark sand. Pain erupted all across his back and legs. His vertebrae felt like they were being pulled apart by the minute. His head pounded like a drum. His three eyes felt like they were going to boil in their sockets. Eventually, he pulled away, having taken his fill. Blood slopped down his throat as he coughed out the last bit. He felt filled to the brim of his stomach, and even had some cold liquid gurgling halfway up his esophagus. The devil-dragon before him was shriveled like a dead leaf, or a wet testicle. He was floating above the ground, encased in a pale aura, sick and ghostly. It just happened; Malice couldn't explain it. Solaris was taking the reins now. His entire form cracking aloud like a dead tree, Malice's long body doubled in size. His head pulled away in agony, pushing at every spot, dislocating his skull plates, as his head grew as well. His antennae on top split to the side, and, cracking their way in, two hard horns took their place, looking for all the world like curved, jagged, snowcapped mountain peaks. His legs flailed about like a cooking lobster as many smaller new ones grew in between them. He had half a hundred legs now, but most of them were ranging from an inch long to a foot. He still had ten--no, nine--main legs. From his shoulder blades, the exoskeleton erupted in splinters, and out stretched long, thin, bony wings. Evil claws lined the edges of the wings like a serrated knife. Tattered leather hung from its frames like a dead banner in a desolate battle. Malice's jaw dislocated, stretching over three feet tall, filled with fangs like railroad spikes instead of needles. Flame broiled at the back of his throat. His eyes burned as well, cinders flying from their orange sockets. Finally, the unearthly aura lifting him up settled him down and disappeared in a flash. Landing unceremoniously, Malice took a stumble before stabilizing himself on all forty-nine new legs of his! Malice blinked in astonishment and began to run his claws all along his new body. He was twice as big as before. His antennae were gone entirely, replaced by two short, hard, stubby things on his head. There were so many extra limbs of his that he took a moment to process it before taking control and flapping into the air. It was surprisingly easy once he stabilized himself. The Pale Rider was now no longer the one that rode the dragon, but instead the one that was the dragon. That was the power of Solaris. His power didn't show you the way. It made you the way. He was a little disappointed that the deep black scar over his face hadn't healed, but he expected that. Nothing could heal a Black Blade wound. Nothing. Just another disadvantage the Unforgiven had. Malice exhaled. A tongue of flame followed his breath and coiled across his lips. He anticipated the burn on his mouth, only to find nothing. Part dragon now, he was immune to fire. Malice grinned wider than he ever had before, showing his entire set of teeth through his cut-away cheeks. Dislocating his jaw again, he threw his head back, opened his mouth disproportionately wide, and let out an earthshattering roar that shook the sand beneath his talons. It reverberated across the sea, shaking the surface, and through the sky, tearing apart the dark clouds high above Malice to expose the mocking stars. Oh, the majesty his Lord had given him! Oh, the purpose he had been bestowed with! Malice, still flapping in the air, turned his back on the silhouette of Mount Aris. The Storm King was as pitiful as the rest of the world's prideful monarchs. Malice would put a stop to it, and he wouldn't need Noxxa, satyrs, or ponies to do it. Marshal Malice, draconic, demented, and deathly like a ghost, set off across the sea for the mainland. Twilight and Freedom Fighter needed to come alive. The others would burn. And Malice would set their funeral pyre.