//------------------------------// // Chapter 11: The Second Sacrifice Made // Story: Chimes In the Dark // by Faindragon //------------------------------// Chimes In the Dark - Chapter 11: The Second Sacrifice Made NOTE: Grammar not corrected The chime echoed through the temple, finding its way through the hallways and rooms. It reached the throne room, reached the mare sitting on the throne. She smiled at the small sleeping filly in front of her. She didn’t believe that Snowfang would succeed at killing Notharam; Notharam was a fiercer fighter than Thunder ever had been. No, Snowfang was only a diversion, a way to make sure that Notharam would be worn out before the sacrifice, make him tired. Notharam would be the last to die, the last to be sacrificed; of that she was sure. No, Snowfang wouldn’t succeed. With the use of her magic did she lift the quill once more; making the tenth line. She was confident in herself; she would succeed in the sacrifice, for the sake of Equestria. The cold smile embraced her muzzle as she looked at the filly. A fast change on the magic was all that was needed to let down the quill and lift the knife instead. The second sacrifice was about to be made. The little filly cried in her sleep. ^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^ Notharam stared in despair at the spot upon which Zinky had laid only seconds ago. He felt how his heart was embraced by wrath; felt how every fiber of his body heated up. He carefully placed the lantern on the stone floor. He spoke, spoke in a voice he hadn't been using since he had last encountered a battle, a voice filled with the cold-warm wrath that surged through his body. "You have gone too far, Snowfang. Threaten me as you wish; of that I do not care. But making a filly, my daughter; disappear in front of me? That is to take maters to far, Snowfang; you have crossed a line that I drew a long time ago. The last one to cross that line was your mate; I believe you remember what happened to her." Snowfang snarled. With the fear and panic, blended with the old feelings of anger and hate, did he speak; the words were meant to hurt him. "I did not know that she was your daughter Notharam; even if I had known that would that fact not changes anything. SHE wanted the filly, I gave it to HER." Notharam could feel how his body prepared itself; felt how it searched after the power reserves within him. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins; he could feel the still air around himself. Thunder had been the one to give the name to this frenzy. It was nor a frenzy of battle nor one of bloodlust; this frenzy ran deeper still. This was a frenzy of pure emotions; a frenzy of wrath that only appeared when a pony felt the deepest of wrath against somepony or something else. Notharam had only entered this frenzy once before; during a battle against a female wolf in the cold harsh north. The wolf had attacked them as they had settled their camp; Thunder hadn't stood a chance before the wolf had broken both his right-wing and his back legs. That was when Notharam had returned from gathering material for their fire. The squad had already lost three members in a short time, and the wrath had quickly risen in him as he saw Thunder laying in the snow. He had thought that Thunder had died, the amount of blood around the still body had made he believe it. Then he had seen the wolf circling around Thunder and the wrath had embraced him; wrath that came from him believing that he was the last left from the squad, believing that he had lost Thunder so close after losing the three others they had lost before. Strangely he couldn't remember the name on those three members. The wolf had started to walk in smaller circles to get closer to the still laying Thunder. Notharam had seen his chance and had attacked; attacked with all his wrath and might. The wolf did not stand a chance. He had come to senses later and had found, to his relief, that Thunder was still alive. He had treated the wounds on Thunders body and they had moved the camp as soon as they could; moved it to a place where they could stay until Thunders wounds had healed. It was at that camp that Thunder had told Notharam about the wrath frenzy; it was at that camp Notharam had drawn a line. He wouldn't let the wrath control him if nopony didn't hurt the ones close to him. The night in that camp had one thing in common; the howling of a wolf that howled out its sorrow and lost against the night sky. Notharam smiled. That line had now been crossed; he had never felt this alive. The blood pumped in his veins; spreading the wrath he felt for the wolf in front of him. The frenzy enchanted his feelings, made him more aware of his surroundings. He spoke to Mistrunner, tried to talk low so that the wolf wouldn’t hear. “Stay out of this Mistrunner; I do not want to lose you as well. It make take some time for me to recover when I have defeated Snowfang, but do not worry I will defeat him. Don’t approach me before I have said that its okay; I have no idea how I will react once this frenzy have taken its hold over me. I might attack you; I’m not sure that I would be able to tell that you are a friend.” He did not await an answer, he wasn’t sure that he could take the answer. Instead he stepped forward; submitting to his wrath, allowed it utter control over his body. He hoped that Mistrunner would back away; keep clear of what was about to happen. He took a quick look in the room, tried to find anything he could use for his advantage. The room was circular, four pillars supported the ceiling. In the middle of the room was the stone darker than the rest of the stone that was the floor; the darker stone was formed as a circle. The grim smile on his muzzle widened as he stepped forward to the circle in the rooms middle. He could see the hate and anger that radiated from Snowfang’s eyes; blended with fear and dread. But one of the feelings that radiated from the wolf’s golden eyes was a feeling that Notharam was surprised to find, even if he admired the wolf for keeping that particular feeling in a time like this; determination. As he entered the dark circle did two things happen really fast; he didn’t have time to react. First did bars as thick as his legs shot up from the ground, meeting together around five meters up in the air with a high sound of metal hitting metal; efficiently creating a cage that nor he nor Snowfang would be able to escape from. Second did four torches lit up around the cage, lighting up the inside. As his eyes adapted to the light did he feel how his wrath was fueled with more power. Nopony could cage him and get away with it! He met Snowfang’s gaze as they stood completely still less than twenty feet from each other. Both waited for the first to make an attack; tried to find the moment to do the first attack. Notharam was the one to attack first, galloping forward. He aimed to knock the wolf of balance; the wolf however simple sidestepped his attack and bite Notharam in his left-wing. He growled in pain as he whirled around, the wolf was fast; he was already out of range for Notharam. The wolf’s yellow eyes tried to find a weakness to exploit; Notharam wouldn’t give him any. They circled around each other; yellow eyes meeting deep orange in a battle of wills. Notharam was ready to attack as soon as that yellow gaze left him and he was sure that Snowfang was as ready to attack if Notharam would let his gaze wander. Notharam could feel how Snowfang’s fangs embraced his leg; to high up for it to hamstring him. It was not the first gash he had acquired, nor was it the first against his back legs. Notharam kicked out and felt how his hoof hit something soft. A yelp assured him that he had kicked the wolf somewhere. He whirled around and reared; legs kicking in the air. The wolf had however already backed away; he limped on his right back leg. Notharam smiled as he attacked, once again letting the wrath take over his attack. His wrath overtook him; he attacked over and over, getting more reckless for every successful hit. Snowfang snarled at him, his white fur blood stained. Notharam knew that he had been damaged badly in several places; the wolf however where in a worse condition. Nothara couldn’t say how long the duel had taken when Snowfang collapsed onto the floor; his sides trembling as he grasped for air. Then the wolf spoke, his soft voice tremble of the agony that seeped through his body from the wounds. “I… couldn’t revenge my mate…. Not full revenge…. At least I tried and got one of you… Finish me… Notharam…. Crush me with your wrath…. You were stronger than I thought… At least SHE will be happy that I wounded you like this…. Your daughter is probably dead by now…. Killed by HER….” The wolf gasped for air. “Finish me… give me a worthy end…” And Notharam let all the wrath in his body into his hoof; slammed it down at Snowfangss skull, fulfilled the wolfs last wish. The wolf was no more. Notharam blinked. Where was he? Then the memories came back; a painful wave that threatened to crush him underneath it. Mistrunner sat beside him, crying and bandaging his wounds. He didn’t know where she had gotten the bandage from nor did he care. He looked to the other side, steeled himself for what he knew he would see. Snowfangss body lay only a few feet away; crushed beyond recognition. The blood had created a thin layer around the dead wolf, small patches of fur floated around in it. He lifted his head a little; tried to look at Mistrunner. “How did you come in here? I was surrounded by metal bars; caged in like an animal.” He said; his throat dry. “The bars sank back when you had crushed the wolf. You collapsed then, but I hesitated to go forwards to you. I remembered to well what you said before the frenzy took you over. I stood still in a couple of minutes; the only thing that moved was your side as you breathed heavily. I took the courage to go forward, and here I am treating your wounds. You took a lot of hits from his fangs; I’m surprised as well as relieved that you are still alive.” She said. “Don’t you ever dare to do that again, you scared me.” She added with a tear filled voice. “How long have I been out?” Notharam asked. “I can’t tell for sure, the clock haven’t chimed yet at least, my guess is that you have been out for around fifteen minutes; the clock should chime any second minute now.” She answered. Then she asked the question he knew would come. “Who was that wolf? I heard you called him Snowfang and that you killed his mate.” “It’s a long story…” “Don’t worry, you will have the time to tell it. It will take some time for me to bandage all these wounds and I won’t let you leave unless we have to before that.” Notharam tried to shift; tried to get into a more comfortable position. However, Mistrunner pinned him down. “Don’t move; you will only end up hurting yourself more.” Notharam tried to wet his throat, but without success. He was determined to talk, he didn’t know how long his throat would survive it thought. “It was nearly one and a half year ago, up in the cold harsh north. The squad I was a part of had just failed miserably in a mission up there; of the five that went there where I and Thunder the only survivors. It is strange thou, I cannot recall the name of the three we lost, it doesn’t matter how deep into my memory I dig; their names I cannot remember. The only thing I know is that back then Thunder and I were alone; alone in the dark snow-clad world.” He could feel how his throat hurt, yet he continued; the word streaming out of him. “We had traveled through the north on our way back in a week when we heard them for the first time; what we then thought was a pack of wolf's howling towards the moon. We had heard the locals talk about them; however, we had not seen anyone for ourselves. That night, when we made our camp, was I the one to go out and gather the wood for the fire.” “When I wandered the forest for woods did I hear the wolf's howling in the distance; I didn’t care much about it since that sound had followed us for the last couple of nights. However, I noticed quickly that something was different. I heard shouts of pain from the camp. Dropping the wood I carried did I turn around and galloped back as fast as my legs could bring me there. What I saw when I arrived froze my bones to the same coldness as the snow around me. In the middle of the camp lay Thunder, the snow around him red with blood, and circling close to him was a big wolf. That is the first time I felt the wrath embrace me; I let it take utter control of my body. I later remember that I took the wolf with surprise and kicked, as I understood later, her in the lower jaw; breaking her neck.” Notharam took a breath before he continued. To his surprise did he notice that he wasn’t dry anymore, it was as if the words was water for his throat. “She was dead before her body hit the cold snow. I believe that Snowfang was close by; I could hear him howl in sorrow and curse me, spoke his promises of vengeance. It was from that I remembered his name. As I examined Thunder did I, to my relief, find out that he was still alive. I threatened his wounds; he was more wounded than I am now, still he survived. As fast as Thunder could walk again did we depart; we didn’t hear the howling of wolfs anymore after that.” He coughed; his throat drier than he had wanted. He felt how Mistrunner was sitting by him, still treating his wounds. “But why didn’t Snowfang attack you and kill you?” Mistrunner asked. “That I cannot answer; both I and Thunder tried to figure that out during the time it took for Thunders wounds to heal. Either he wasn’t strong enough or he was wounded somehow; waited for it to heal just as we waited for Thunders wounds to heal.” Notharam answered. “There, all done. Try to stand up.” Mustrunner said. Mistrunner helped him to get up on his legs. His gaze landed on something on the stone floor; Snowfang’s blood gleamed in the light from the torches. They had floated together as letters. As fast as he had seen it did it disappear; the blood once again behaving like it should do. But those few seconds had been enough for him to read and understand, his heart sinking in his chest. The innocent have been sacrificed. The mist will disappear. And the clock chimed.