//------------------------------// // Arrival. // Story: Tomb Kings of Equestria // by FleetlordAvatar //------------------------------// Sepa surged back to consciousness, memories crashing over his mind as he released a wail of anguish. "Father!" "I am truly sorry." His skull snapped left, where Rehu sombrely stood. "You...you knocked me out..." he stuttered in disbelief. "You were his most loyal servant, you tended to our Tombs, you left Nehekhara with us, why would you leave him to die?!" "Because he made me promise to keep you safe!" snapped Rehu. "A servant is no good if his word is false!" "A servant should also never fail his lord!" "Don't you dare call this a failure!" he growled, shaking his staff in rage, the undead vulture perched on it’s peak squawking in agitation. "Your father was not just my lord, he was my friend, in life and in death, he made me protect the most precious thing in the world to him!" The vulture took flight as Rehu angrily prodded Sepa's rib-cage with his staff to emphasise each word. "Don't. Make. His. Sacrifice. Be. In. Vain." With a final huff, he aggressively shuffled off, the vulture swooping down after him. Sepa stared, stunned. He had never known Rehu to raise his voice, he had always seen him as his father's quiet voice of reason, nothing more. However, whatever shock he felt was quickly numbed by grief. The chamber the Tomb Kings had arrived in was just as vast as the one that his father had excavated, it was lit by flickering balls of balefire, no doubt from the Mortuary Cult, which floated in the air around them, casting strange shadows up the walls. Sepa looked back from where he sat, dominating the rear of the room was another titanic mirror portal that lay shattered against the rock. Pieces of enchanted glass were still in the frame, though most had fallen to the floor, carpeting the stone in pointed shards. Strangely, they reflected no light whatsoever, in fact they seemed to absorb it. His gaze then fell to the Mortuary Cult as they attended the Caskets of Souls, whispering rites to keep them calm, while the nearby necrotects meticulously checked the deconstructed titan parts. However the majority of the army stood statuesque, awaiting their next orders. "I should take command, the prince is clearly paralysed by loss!" "You will do no such thing! The line of succession is clear, Sepa is now King of the Black Legion!" His gaze shifted to where Rehu was arguing with Phar, the latter flanked by a few skeletal warriors, undoubtedly remnants from his city of Numas, while Rehu was surrounded by several Liche Priests. "I am the most experienced ruler here, I served under Settra and fought Nagash at the walls of both Khemri and Numas!" "And look where that got you!" retorted Rehu. "Even if you took command, most of this army will not obey, The Black Legion is sworn to its king!" They went back and forth like this in a seemingly unending cycle, being undead it could very well come to that. Soon, Sepa lost interest and slumped his mummified shoulders. How did it come to this? His father had been in front of him moments ago...now he will never see him again. Never ride the dunes or fight monsters alongside his sire, and worse still, his father's final project, his great work, will never be completed. "Grief can be a powerful thing." He looked up to his left, Hassep had sat next to him on the stone slab. In his mummified hands he cradled the canopic jar that held what was left of his son. "Settuneb was a brilliant rider," stated the king, lost in his memories. "I  remember the day his chariot won the final race of Settra's Great Games, I was so proud." He paused, almost like he had to take a breath. "We were never parted after that, even in death. But... when we fought for Queen Khalida... when Nagash sent his servants to Lhamia..." He stopped again, and Sepa observed Hasseps shoulders shudder, like he was trying to weep, but all their tears had turned to dust centuries ago. "I never saw it happen...I took my eyes off him for a moment and when I turned back..." He clutched the jar tightly to his ribs. "I did nothing but stare as Neferata cast his remains to the wind. I don't even know if what I have here is even him, it could just be sand.” "Is there a point to this?" interrupted Sepa. Hassep paused, then turned his head to look the Tomb Prince dead in his eye sockets. "The point is that grief made me hesitate, I did not pursue that witch and avenge my child. The battle waged and I lay in the street staring dumbly at where Settuneb's chariot had been a moment before. Had I not been consumed by my own woes, maybe I could have helped, maybe I could have stopped Lhamia being consumed...'maybe' is a powerful thing." He stood and clipped the jar back to his belt. "Our alliance hangs on a knife edge, if you hesitate now then it falls apart. Don't be like me, when the time comes, just act." With that, Hassep strode into the throng of skeletons. Sepa mulled over his words, looking back at Phar and Rehu as they bickered, at the Caskets of Souls and the carts carrying his father's work and the cavern they found themselves in. Like it or not, Hassep was right, grieving right now would do nothing but destroy them, and if they died here, Nagash would  win, regardless of their escape. Standing up, the Prince strode towards the arguing leaders, skull held high as the Black Legion parted before him like water, each soldier snapping to attention. "That's enough!" he barked, voice echoing around the cavern, immediately silencing the bickering pair. "My father is dead! I am his sole heir, I am King of the Black Legion and you will obey me!" "Why should I?" scoffed Phar, drawing his khopesh. "Your father forced me into servitude with his damned protection runes, but as we are now beyond Nagash's reach I fail to see why I should remain a servant!" "Because I am ordering you, that's why! Rehu pulled your soul from oblivion and he can send it back!" Phar glared at the Liche priest, who returned the gesture, along with his vulture. "You are a King of Nehekhara," he went on. "Stop acting like a petulant child! The Black Legion is loyal to me, the rest follow through fealty sworn to my father. You have little support, so try anything and it will be your last act, am I clear?!" Phar suddenly realised that a great many of the Legion had encircled them, and their eye sockets were trained squarely on him. With a low growl, the King of Numas sheathed his weapon. "This isn't over, boy" he spat venomously, stalking away with his warriors. "Long Live the King!"  declared Rehu, the Mortuary cult dropping to its knees. "Long Live the King!" cried Hassep, as he and the army knelt in fealty. If he could, Sepa would have sighed in relief, he would grieve later, for now he had to keep order. At their new king's order, the army started to dig, moving rubble and stone with their skeletal fingers and unnatural strength. Time didn’t matter to the dead as they tirelessly cleared away earth and rock until they uncovered a rotted pair of oak doors that had fallen sideways across a stone archway, leading into a long, dark tunnel. Forming the army into ranks, the army marched into the tunnel. The Mortuary Cult conjuring more balefire that floated around the Nehekharans like wraiths, illuminating ancient stonework and rotting tapestries. They occasionally passed vacant archways that led into additional chambers, but these had long been emptied of anything save decaying furniture and cast iron wall sconces, thick with dust and spider webs. As the army moved on, the ground slowly began to slope upwards and Sepa ordered they increase pace, anxious to be out of the underground, but their advance was halted when they reached a cave in, though sliver of light shone through a gap in the rocks. The dead set to work once again, carefully clearing the rubble until, finally, with a flurry of snow, light blazed into the cavern, and the Tomb Kings finally emerged into a blinding blizzard. The cavern they had dug their way out of was as the base of a cliff, before them stretched an infinite expanse of white and wailing winds. "Well, this is certainly better than eternal servitude to Nagash," sarcastically stated Phar. Sepa glared at him. "Reassemble the constructs and prepare the army to move." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx From the head of the formation, King Sepa led the disciplined ranks of dead through the raging snowstorm. The climate meant little to the Nehekharans as they trudged through the desolate landscape, they did not tire or required food and rest. However, the cold could still affect them in other ways. As ice formed on their bodies, skeletal limbs became brittle and bones would snap without warning, causing the army to halt as the Mortuary Cult knitted soldiers back together. Furthermore, the ice would weaken the Necrotects repairs and more than once, Sepa had to watch as a construct collapsed in the snow, it's cracked and broken body finally shattered by the cold. The Nercrotects salvaged what they could, but some were beyond repair, and he reluctantly ordered them abandoned. The snow covered ground also proved hazardous to their chariots and carts. Sometimes it was hard and firm, other times they could suddenly sink up to their axles without warning. Phar was also making sure to point out every failure and misstep as they went, and it was starting to wear on the young king, who rode his father's chariot at the army’s head. Rehu floated up to his side, the priests own dias keeping him out of the snow. "My King-" "I will never get used to hearing that," muttered Sepa. "You will, your father had to." "What do you want Rehu?" he sighed. "To offer you a ray of hope, the Liche priests and I can sense something nearby, a powerful source of magic. It's been affecting the souls in our care." “Is it Nagash?" snapped Sepa in a mild panic. "No, my King," soothed Rehu. "It's...something else entirely." "What do you mean?" "It's...nothing like the Winds of Magic," he explained. "They are wild and must be bent to a sorcerer's will. This feels...calm, almost benevolent. The souls have been quiet ever since we neared its presence. Rites of hibernation are no longer needed to keep them contained." "Is that a good thing?" enquired Sepa. "I believe so. It could be a boon to our forces, and it might keep Phar silent for a time." "Then, can you lead us to it?" "Indeed, my lord." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx They found the body at the edge of a dead forest, the fossilised branches long stripped bare by the constant blizzard. The creature had been slumped by the trunk of a tree, and was identical to the pegasi on the ritual scroll, only this one was glad in glittering armour that resembled crystal, it's mane pushed through the top of the helmet to create a plume. The tiny icicles that hung from it’s muzzle shimmered as Rehu cleared snow from around the body. Crouching down to examine it’s cold flesh, he prodded a long gash down its side with a mummified finger. "The cold has kept it preserved,” he stated, examining a broken wing. “I believe these injuries are what killed it, though death was not immediate.” "Where is the rider?" questioned Hassep. "It likely didn't have one," observed Sepa. "There's no sort of saddle or bridle, it may have escaped from a stable." "Or perhaps it was doing something else." Rehu rose from his crouched position, a scroll clutched in his mummified fingers. "This was secured inside the breastplate." "So it was someone's messenger," mused Sepa. "Pigeons would be much cheaper," stated Phar. "Why waste a perfectly good steed on such a menial task." "Let's find out," replied Rehu, breaking the seal and unrolling the document. "The language is similar to the ritual scroll,” he mused, scanning the text. "Can you read it?" asked Sepa. "Yes my lord, there's a few deviations but I can still see the roots of the language. This pegasus is from somewhere called The Crystal Empire. This message is a call for help, they are under siege by someone called King Sombra and require reinforcements." "Does it say where this 'Crystal Empire' is?" "I'm afraid not, but there are other ways to get that information." The Lice Priest looked at the frozen body, then back at his king. "I should be able to get the creature to lead us there.” "Anywhere is better than this wasteland," stated Hassep. "For once I agree," supported Phar. With a nod from Sepa, Rehu turned back to the dead pegasus and began chanting rites of awakening, his vulture squawking and shuffling as he wove his staff in complex patterns through the air. The pegasus jerked to life with a sucking gasp, coughing and spluttering as it tried to take air into dead lungs, it fell forward in a shower of snow and shattering ice onto flailing hooves. As Rehu wove his magic, the pegasus slowly regained control of itself, the enchantment restoring what it could as the soul regained control of it's body. With his job complete, Rehu stood back as the creature looked up at the assembled Kings and, to everyone's surprise, jumped away with a cry of terror. “Get back! Whatever you are, get away from me!” The Tomb Kings were stunned. "Did...that creature just speak?"questioned Hassep. "Congratulations," mocked Phar. "You pulled the wrong soul back." The priest shuffled towards the undead pegasus, which flared it’s one good wing in anger. “I said, stay back!” Rehu muttered another spell, and it fell limp into the snow. "...No, I don't believe I did." "What do you mean?" asked Sepa. "The rite I used returns the soul of each individual to their remains. It did not fail, it worked perfectly. This creature was as intelligent as you or I. The scroll depicted these creatures working alongside the elves and dwarves. I thought they were beasts of burden but perhaps they were actually assisting them, as equals." "That's absurd," snapped Phar. "So is Throgg the troll king, but he still managed to exist," countered Sepa, studying the corpse. "Will he be able to help us?" "I believe so,” replied the Liche Priest. “I can use an additional spell to make him believe we are the reinforcements he was sent to retrieve.” “Do it.” Rehu spoke another spell, this time when Flash rose, he took a disciplined stance and saluted the Tomb Kings. “Flash Sentry, Royal Equestrian Air Corps.” he stated. "I've been sent by Prince Shining Armour, the Crystal Empire is under attack. We need your help! “Then please,” said Sepa. "Lead the way." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Against all odds, and despite being crisscrossed with dark veins like a cracked window, the shield had mostly held as Sombra's titans continued to pound it. However it was teetering on the verge of failure, small sections had collapsed and fighting had broken out as the Crystal Guard attempted to repulse the golems that surged through the gaps. Meanwhile the rest of Sombra’s army stood in silent ranks, ready for the moment the shield failed utterly. The Tomb Kings watched all this from a nearby clifftop. Flash Sentry explaining everything they saw. "They won't last much longer," commented Phar. "Though I cannot see why we should care." "Because this is the first civilisation we have found in this wasteland," snapped Sepa. "And in case you didn't notice, they have a way to protect themselves from the cold." "They are also the source of the power I can feel," observed Rehu. "According to Flash Sentry, it is called The Crystal Heart, and should King Sombra capture it, then he gains immeasurable power." “Power he can use to enslave the Crystal Ponies once again,” added Flash. "He sounds like Nagash," mused Sepa. "Regardless, we will assist, our actions should give us a way into the Crystal Empire so we can see it for ourselves.” "Why not let Sombra break in then kill both forces when they are weak?" sneered Phar. "We are kings, we don’t serve, we rule!" "We also don't have the forces to take on two armies," countered Hassep. "We also need somewhere to regroup and rebuild away from this cold." "So we are going to help the Crystal Empire, and we will do it without complaint,” finished Sepa, glaring at Phar, who eventually bowed mockingly. "As you wish." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Shining armour looked out over the battlefield as his forces struggled to hold back Sombra's army, he knew it was a futile gesture, but they had to try. The longer they held, the higher a chance reinforcements would arrive. But that chance was getting slimmer and slimmer as another section of the shield cracked and shattered like glass. More constructs poured through the gap and the thin line of Crystal ponies buckled under the weight of ever more foes. From his dias, Sombra let out a triumphant laugh as the titans slammed their fists down on the shield once again, dark magic spreading further and further with each hit. With his army already exploiting the gaps created and without reinforcements, he would have the Crystal Empire in hours, from there it would only be a matter of time before he marched on Equestria itself. His ears pricked as the slow, baleful sound of a war horn echoed through the howling blizzard. Soon it was joined by another, then another, hundreds blasting a single note that overpowered the howling wind. Sombra opened his telescope and peered out into the blizzard. Dark shapes began to emerge from the storm, his muzzle twisting in confusion as they came into focus. "Those aren't Equestrians," he muttered, disbelievingly. The might of the Black Legion marched towards the Crystal Empire, ragged crimson banners fluttering above ranks of black boned skeletons, shields of tarnished silver, gold and bronze still managing to glitter in the whirling snow. Chariots and cavalry flanked the formation, speeding rapidly along the frozen ground, while the serpentine forms of Necropolis Knights and Sepulchral Stalkers slithered alongside them. The titanic Bone Giant and Hierotitans cast long shadows over formations of Ushabti, while great Khemrian Warshinxes bounded forwards alongside the soldiers of Nehekharan cities now dust in the desert. Sombra watched as the army halted on the plain, feeling the cold prick of dread on the nape of his neck, though he would never admit it. He willed his uncommitted troops to face this new threat, as the warhorns called out a last, mournful note. Then, the Tomb Kings went to war.