The world had grown dim. Night had reached its deepest hours before the rising of the sun, and the moon had been hidden by clouds. This did not deter the Blue Knight. His synthetic eyes could still see quite well. Rather, he was annoyed, even angry. In all of this epic battle, not one opponent had appeared who was adequately worthy.
He had fought past them all, cutting a swath through the oncoming forces. It had been easy. Too easy. Now he stood at the edge of the city. The airships were only visible in the greatest distance through a sky marked by lightning.
Where he stood was the end of the city, at the very border of the Crystal Empire. It was land that had once been thriving and glorious, but it had been abandoned long ago as the shield began to lose power and slowly retract. The air was frigid, although Zither hardly noticed. There was precious little of him that could still feel the chill. Celestia had made sure of that.
That was his course. Toward Celestia. Toward the one who had taken everything from him. The one who, he knew, was intending to take Penumbra too. Or, worse, the one who would be claimed by the Dark Princess, depriving him of his vengeance.
The time was drawing near. Zither did not know how, but he could feel it. He had to reach her, before he lost his chance forever.
Then he stopped. Something was wrong. This area had been exposed to Hyperborean winter for decades, and Zither knew that it was far too cold to support any normal pony- -yet he felt as though he was being watched.
He drew his sword, holding it in his magic and levitating it in front of him in a defensive posture. If he knew Equestrian soldiers, they would almost always come from behind like the filthy cowards they were.
Except that they did not come from behind. One pony came from the front, walking silently through the heavily falling snow. A pony clad in pure white armor inscribed with a diamond of four stars.
Zither smiled beneath his helm. “I am afraid I have no time for you, little child. I have a date Celestia.”
The moon knight drew his blade, one of strange silver. “Then you shall need to pass me first.”
“So be it!”
Zither crossed the gap in an instant, raising his sword high over his head. His opponent raised his own sword to block. Zither’s came down and cleaved it in twain- -yet his enemy’s blade did not break. Rather, his own blade passed through it as though it were made of liquid.
In a single fluid movement, the knight slashed at Zither’s left shoulder. Zither cast a powerful shield spell, deflecting the blow just in time to parry a second impact from the knight’s sword. This time it struck as though made of steel, and strange sparks were driven from both blades.
Zither forced their swords to the side and raised his hoof, his power-armor whirring as he drove it down with enough force to crack the thick ice that lined the forgotten imperial streets. The pony dodged, his blade rotating on its ring around his hoof. His wings went out to the side and he flipped, jumping onto Zither’s back. He drove the sword deep into Zither’s armor, penetrating various machines beneath. In response Zither fired a defensive spell, his whole body illuminating with blinding amber light.
The knight in white armor took to the air, circling rapidly before hovering in one position.
“Flight? How cowardly!”
“Says the pony who dares to wield magic in a fight of blades.”
Zither could not stop smiling. He threw his blade, powering it with his own magic, but the white knight was faster. He threw his own sword, ducking to the ground and sliding across the snow almost directly under Zither. As he did, he deployed a dagger, cutting against the underside of Zither’s armor- -but in the process catching Zither’s rear hoof against his side. The blow would normally have caved tin any normal suit of armor- -or even Questlord armor. Yet although the blow momentarily stunned the knight, his moonstone armor was not broken.
Zither’s sword cut its path. The knight only regained his composure in time to execute a perfect flip, flying over the blade and grasping it by its base. Though the blade was immensely heavy, he lifted it with great might, just as Zither charged, plunging the red-steel blade into the Questlord’s chest. As he did, his own blade slammed into the side of his head, cutting to the midpoint of his helm.
The two were knocked back from one another, the white knight still holding Zither’s sword. Zither looked down, and saw that he had been given the poke. Fluorescent-green coolant was leaking from the gap in his armor, but it was only a trickle.
His opponent did not fall. Rather, he reached for his ruined helm and tore it off. The pony beneath was dark gray, the same color as his wings- -though his mane was jet black, long, and beautiful. But what Zither saw most clearly were his eyes. They were red, with thin vertical slits for pupils.
The only sign of Zither’s attack was a thin scratch on the Pegasus’s cheek. A thin line of black fluid dripped from it, and then it was gone, having fully healed.
Zither disengaged the emergency interlocks that connected his own helmet to his armor. It hissed, venting pressure, and he removed it, throwing it down.
“A blade of enchanted quicksilver,” he said, raising his opponent’s sword in his magic. “A rare artifact indeed. I had been afeared that it might have been wielded by a stallion not worthy of its might. But now I see, the owner of this blade is none other than the Blade of Khonshu, servant of the Dark Queen.”
Specter smiled. “And how could I not recognize the Blue Knight of the Crystal Empire, Renegade of Clan Heartstrings.”
“You are indeed a knight of renown. The High Commander of the Nightmare Horde, the only one permitted to stand beside Nightmare Moon herself. Her equal, some say.”
“None are equal to the One True Goddess. I am merely her lowly servant. Would you claim to be equal to your own patron, the Witchking Sombra?”
Zither smiled. “No. I suppose I would not.” He lifted the quicksilver sword and threw it. The blade landed before Specter. Spector hefted Zither’s red-steel Questlord blade and threw it back to him.
“Word of your deeds has reached far, Blue Knight.” Specter picked up his blade. “And though I do not condone them, I am glad that you shall be the one I challenge.” He pointed his blade at Zither. “My beloved queen has sent me to stop you. Should I win this fight, I shall present her with your horn.”
“And should I be the victor, your wings shall be a gift for my own princess, the child Penumbra.” Zither nodded. “While the rest of you shall be returned to your queen, so that you may rest in a way fitting for a hero.”
“I thank you, Blue Knight. It is pleasing to meet a pony of honor.”
“Though my methods are brutal, I have never once deviated from the way of chivalry. And I have paid dearly for it.” He pointed at the coolant leak on his chest. “I intend to have my revenge on Celestia, for having taken my beloved from me.”
“The lesser princess is still dear to my queen. I could not bear to see one tear fall from her eye. I cannot allow you to proceed.”
Zither raised his sword, and he laughed, softly. “Then I am pleased! What a fight this shall be! Whether I win or lose, my name shall recall the day I clashed on this battlefield not as a soldier but as a KNIGHT!”
“I am pleased as well. Let our combat be honorable and our names remembered. Have at thee!”
Zither raised his sword and, laughing, charged- -only to stop suddenly as a plume of fluorescent green came from one side of his head.
His eyes grew wide as he stumbled. “N...no,” he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. “Not like this...”
“Blue Knight!”
Specter rushed to the side of his opponent, catching him as he fell. “Blue Knight! Speak to me!”
The Blue Knight did not respond. He was breathing, but his breath was not that of a normal pony. It was slow and mechanical- -and growing slower.
Spector saw the wound, and followed its course. He saw through the distance, his powerful eyes focusing on the top of a distant building. There he saw something terrible.
It looked like a pony. A pony with teal skin and long, white hair, clad in golden armor adorned only by a single violet crystal inlaid in the front. Yet Specter understood by some dark instinct that it was something far more terrible, that the body it wore had faded to nothingness long ago.
In its hoof, it was holding a strange weapon. A Questlord rifle.
“NO!” he cried, standing. “You will not take his honor!”
The figure seemed to hear him. It smiled as the air behind it sparked and erupted into a portal. Before Specter could even take flight, the figure was gone.
The Blue Knight moaned softly. “G...Gallen...”
Spector ran back to his side. “No, my friend. I will not let it end like this. It is not meant to end like this! It can’t!” He lifted his opponent. “I will not allow it!”
What he did not know was that the Blue Knight’s journey had already ended long before he had even been born.