//------------------------------// // 46. End of the Line // Story: The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story // by TheMessenger //------------------------------// 46. End of the Line Relief, confusion, worry, the sight of Spike and Discord invoked so many different feelings from her, but as they got closer and gave Rarity a better look at them, the more negative thoughts and emotions quickly overtook her optimistic side. The color in Discord’s fur and Spike’s scales had faded and gone dull, leaving the both of them with an abnormal grayness in their appearance. Each motion they made, be it a step or a swing of an arm, was stilted with an odd rigidity that made Rarity squirm, like watching someone force themselves to walk unaided on a broken leg. Still dressed in those gaudy costumes, they shambled ever closer, their eyes dull and devoid of life and with a sickeningly green glow to them. Rarity’s blood ran cold at the lack of expression on Spike’s face, at the missing familiar blend of glee and bashfulness the dragon would usually have on in her presence, and there was something especially unnatural about seeing Discord so stiff and vacant, with not even so much of a hint of an arrogant smirk to be found. The temperature of the room appeared to drop with each dragging step they took toward Rarity, and she shuddered when the two opened their mouths and let out a low, guttural groan. “S-stay back!” Rarity shouted, holding out her weapon. As she slowly retreated and they slowly approached, the tip of her blade alternated between her three targets, from being pointed at Spike to the black knight to Discord then back to the dragon in the wizard robes and beard. “It’s me, Spikey Wikey, it’s Rarity,” she pleaded. “Whatever horrible spell that vile squid has you under, I know you can fight it. Please, do it for me.” There was no sign that Rarity’s words were reaching. Spike continued forward, seemingly ignoring Rarity and her pleas. The stallion in the black suit of armor halted, and with a downward swing of his sword, he pointed the blade at Rarity. “Bring her to me, alive,” he commanded, and at the blackguard’s order, Spike and Discord lunged forward. A bright light suddenly shined behind Rarity, causing both Spike and Discord stumble back and hiss as they raised their arms to shield themselves from the radiant glow. A quick glance over her shoulder was all Rarity needed to determine that the light was coming from her saddlebags, and upon opening them, she immediately discovered its source. She held up the skull of Selune’s descendant that despite now being wreathed in brilliant white flames was only comfortably warm in her hooves and watched as Spike and Discord immediately withdrew with thin streams of steam wafting from their bodies that was accompanied by a low sizzling sound. “Those are not your friends,” Selune said, her voice echoing through the throne room. “The creatures before you are merely their soulless shells twisted by the Squid Wizard’s foul magics, undead puppets here to do his bidding and no different than the skeletons we have already encountered.” “So what do I do?” Rarity asked frantically, hysterics driving her breathing almost to the point of hyperventilating. “How do we break the spell?” “Destroy the puppets,” instructed Selune. “Their bodies can only sustain so much damage before the magic animating them gives out.” “But, I can’t—“ “You must if you wish to bring your friends back. I cannot return their souls to their bodies as they are now. The resurrection spell will not work on them while the taint of undeath remains so strongly on their bodies. Now hurry!” Selune exclaimed. The flames coming from the Moonmaiden’s skull were beginning to flicker and reduce in size and intensity. “I cannot keep them turned for very long.” Rarity’s hold on her dagger tightened, and she stared into the cold, dead, glowing eyes of Spike, his face twisted by expressions of fear, hate, and pain. No, not his face, Rarity forced herself to think, not her Spikey. She took a deep breath. Like Selune had said, it was just a husk, just a puppet. Continually repeating that to herself like so failed to make the task ahead of her any easier to accept or perform. If anything, the mental anguish left her paralyzed and vulnerable, and it was only by the warning that Selune had yelled out that Rarity managed to duck down and avoid the black knight’s broad blade. The sudden maneuver came at a cost, however, and she lost her hold on Selune’s vessel. The skull bounced and rolled a bit along the floor, but it remained intact and continued to burn, its light still keeping the animated bodies of Spike and Discord at bay. The black knight gave Rarity no chance to retrieve the goddess as he made a second wide swing of his great sword and forced her to jump back. She looked to the armored adversary before her, then to the skull with Selune’s spirit, and finally to Spike and Discord who continued to cower before the skull’s glow before returning her full attention to the stallion in black armor. Rarity had no clue as to how much longer the effects of Selune’s ability would last, but dealing with Spike and Discord’s zombies would have to wait, at least until she was able to get away from this ironclad enemy. As the knight charged forward with his sword held high by his magic, Rarity reached her hoof to her shoulder and pressed against the hardened pad beneath her cloak. A couple of seconds later, she felt an odd warmth engulf over her like a towel or blanket right out of the dryer, the same sensation she had experienced during the attunement process, but before she could think more of it, her opponent’s blade came down upon her in a vertical slash. To her surprise, the painful strike she was expecting never came as Rarity watched the blade suddenly stopped mere inches from making contact. A light lime green glow distinct from the orange aura that was around the sword’s handle covered the edge of the blade that was closest to her. A huff and a grunt came from the knight, and the sword shook with effort as it fought to push past the greenish glow. The blade only resumed its course once Rarity had stepped safely out of its way, causing it to slam heavily against the floor and dig itself into the stone beneath the carpet. While the knight struggled to free his weapon, Rarity immediately sprung forward and tried to drive her own blade into the blackguard’s undoubtably black heart. Unfortunately for her, the armor upon his chest proved far more difficult to pierce than a shirt of linked chains, and even with the added strength from the potion and the enchantments on her new dagger, her blade simply bounced off the black iron plate. The black knight tore his sword out of the ground as Rarity reeled back from her deflected strike, and he whipped the hilt across Rarity’s face while she was still recovering. The blow dropped her to the floor, but Rarity had no time to focus on the stinging pain in her reddened cheek as the knight already had his sword raised, readying himself for a follow up attack. “The master will want you alive,” he said. “Don’t worry, this won’t be lethal. It’ll just hurt like heck.” Just as he swung, Rarity threw up her foreleg and yell out as loudly as she could. At the sound of her shout, the brass anklet around her leg lit up and blinded her and hopefully her opponent with a flash. When the light faded and Rarity had finished blinking away the colored spots and regained her sight, she found the knight’s great sword once again stopping just short of cutting into her. The green glow was there again, but also imposed between her and the blade was the gold ethereal image of a heater shield, flat at the top that rounded into a point at its bottom. The knight’s growl rang out of his helmet as another one of his attacks had been foiled, and he pressed himself against the floating sword, adding his own weight and physical strength down against Rarity’s magical shield. The barrier was holding, but Rarity had no desire to test just how long the spell would last. She tried to focus on coming up with a plan, perhaps rolling out of the way and letting the sword get stuck in the ground again to open her opponent up for a second counterattack, but her attention was instead stolen by a loud groan a little distance away. Turning her head slightly, Rarity saw that the animated bodies of Spike and Discord were slowly starting to approach Selune’s skull. The zombies still had their arms up, covering their faces from the light coming from the skull, and they still looked to be in awful pain and fright, but as the flames coming from Selune continued to lessen, they inched closer and closer. Rarity reached into her cloak and pulled out the Queen of Fey’s silver symbol. One last huzzah Rarity thought to herself, quoting the Queen from her last encounter with the mysterious archfey. Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any. She pointed the snowflake at Spike and Discord’s walking corpses. “Destroy!” she shouted, shaking the pendant at them. “Come on, work! Destroy!” From the Fey symbol came a beam of yellow light that shot towards her undead friends. Rarity’s anticipation when the little light show had ended quickly turned to disappointment as Spike and Discord continued forward completely unscathed, and the only noticeable change resulting from the spell was that there was now a small glowing bead on the floor sitting between them and the skull with Selune’s spirit. The warmth of the pendant soon vanished, leaving the silver cold and dull as its shine faded as well. There was no time to dwell on the lost warmth and luster or wonder how or why the Queen of Fey’s magic failed the moment she needed it most as a loud cracking sound, like that of breaking glass or porcelain turned Rarity’s attention back to her current assailant. Fractures were rapidly forming in her shield, and the image shattered into several hundred tiny shards of light before Rarity could react. The fragments harmlessly disappeared before they could fall upon her, but the same could not be said about the massive blade that was headed right towards her. The clashing sound of metal meeting metal echoed through the room as Rarity lifted her dagger just in time to block the blow. The two blades were locked together as the dark knight, rather than pulling back and attempting another swing, continued to press down his sword onto Rarity’s as if in order to cleave right through the thinner blade. The added strength from her potion made the struggle more of a fair contest, but with the knight’s magic, the heft of the sword, gravity, and the knight’s own physical power all working against her, Rarity wasn’t sure just how more she could withstand. The moans coming from Spike and Discord were getting closer, but Rarity could barely spare them more than a quick glance as she struggled to push back against the heavy broadsword. At this point, all she could do was grit her teeth and watch helplessly as the two shambled closer and closer. Even calling out and demanding them to stop was currently beyond her means, for all the good that would do. She watched as Discord lifted his cloven foot and brought it down on the little bead that the last bit of Rarity’s borrowed Fey magic had produced. Then, with a mighty roar, both Discord and Spike were lost inside a fiery explosion so great that Rarity could feel its heat from her position. The knight above her must have felt it as well as the weight upon Rarity faltered. Seeing the chance she needed, Rarity tilted her blade, causing the knight’s own to shift and slip and tap its tip on the ground. Rarity then ran her dagger right along the length of the great sword, scrapping against its edge as she used it like a ramp that led right to her opponent’s face. She slammed the point of her dagger into the bottom of the knight’s chin where his helmet provided only a thin layer of padding for protection, and as she continued to pull her blade upward, she knocked off the helmet and slashed at the exposed fur and flesh underneath. Without his metal headgear getting in the way and muffling the sound, the knight’s pained cry came out loud and clear. His weapon fell to the floor as the magical hold over it’s handle winked out. The knight stumbled back and grabbed at the wound he had just received, but Rarity wasted no time in admiring her own handiwork and instead drove a hind hoof right into the space between the knight’s back legs. The tanned cloth lining over the area absorbed much of the blow, but what little force that did get through still brought the stallion low as he doubled over and groaned, giving Rarity the time she needed to sprung to her feet and dashed over to Selune. Black soot, residues of the spontaneous combustion, covered the once white skull, and she gave it a quick wipe before picking it up. “Lady Selune? Are you alright?” The image of the Moonmaiden flickered into view, and when the alicorn spoke, there was a noisy buzz layered over her voice that made it difficult for her to be understood. “—fine, but—not—over. Don’t—down.” “I’m sorry, what?” Selune’s form shook its head, and she pointed Rarity to the two mounds in front of them that were caked in ash. It took a little bit of squinting, but Rarity saw that one of the mounds was the partially charred body of Discord, the glow in his eyes gone, and in the lights’ place there was a black X over each eye, bold enough that it could been seen even with all that ash in the way. The draconequus’s body was lain on its back with his claw and paw folded over his chest and his tongue rolling out of his open mouth in an exaggerated and comedic fashion that was contradictorily both inappropriate considering the circumstances and yet suited the spirit of chaos almost perfectly. Really, Rarity should not have been so surprised to see that Discord couldn’t even take his own death seriously. Her attention went to the other mound as it started to stirred. Clumps of ash flaked off Spike’s scales as he struggled to rise and was barely able to lift his head. Spike’s eyes which were still glowing with that pale green color turned to Rarity, and he let out a moan and weakly clawed at the air in her direction. “Don’t let your guard down. It’s not over yet,” Selune spoke up, her voice understandable again now that the static overlay subsided. Her ghostly figure gestured to the dagger in Rarity’s grip. “You cannot hesitate. If you wish to save your friend, you must finish off his ghoul, now!” Rarity’s jaw clenched tightly as she turned to face the little dragon crawling in the soot. She set Selune down beside Discord’s body, still smoking from the blast of fire, along with the scroll that had the resurrection spell inscribed upon it, then walked over to Spike who continued to growl and reach ineffectually toward her. They were now close enough that Spike could grab onto her leg, but his grip was so weak that Rarity escaped with a simple shake of her hoof. She raised her weapon and looked down at the pitiful sight that Ponyville’s resident dragon, Princess Twilight Sparkle’s number one assistant, and most of all, her beloved and precious friend, was reduced to. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered and sank the dagger into the back of Spike’s neck, the tip of the blade finding its way between his tough scales. Rarity’s entire body convulsed and her stomach violently churned as she felt Spike twitch beneath her before he went completely still. Swallowing back the rising bile, Rarity pulled her dagger free and forced herself to look down. Like with Discord, Spike’s eyes were no longer emitting that eerie light, and there were Xs drawn on their closed lids instead. She gulped down several breaths to calm herself and looked to Selune. “Can you bring the both of them back now?” The projection of Selune lowered its horn to the spell scroll, causing the ribbon to untie itself, the wax seal to melt away, and the parchment to unroll and light up as the eye sockets of skull next to it glowed as well. “It will take a few seconds before the spell starts having an effect,” she said. “You will have to protect me until then.” Selune’s chants began to fill the room, the incantations all in that alien, musical language. The dust settling on and around the bodies of Spike and Discord were glittering in the beams of light that shined upon them from up above, but the sound of heavy breathing and a sharp tap from behind her was more important, and Rarity reluctantly turned away to face the source of the noise. The knight she had been locked in combat only moments prior was now standjng before her, leaning against his sword for support. Without his helmet in the way and with her now having the time to spare a glance, Rarity could see that the stallion was of a lightly subdued shade of red, neither too bright nor too dull. His untidy mane, through which a pointed spiraling horn stuck out of, was a darker blond that was perhaps leaning into orange, and his eyes had an odd cloudiness to them that took away from their natural green color. Rarity had to admit, the face before her was certainly a handsome one, even with the mark Rarity left when she had removed his helmet. Sculpted muscles hardened almost every inch of his face, giving him this rugged, powerful look, but there was also something about his features, from the structure and shape to its color, that seemed weirdly familiar. It was when she noticed the set of little white freckles under his eye, the same sort of spots that she had seen so often whenever Applejack’s face happened to come into her view, that it all finally clicked for Rarity. “Big McIntosh?” she said, her eyes wider than ever from the shocking revelation. She rubbed at her eyes. It couldn’t be, the stallion here was a unicorn after all, but the more she stared, the more certain she was of the stallion’s identity. The resemblance was too uncanny to have simply been a series of coincidental similarities or to chalk up to a trick of her memory, everything just matched up too perfectly, but what was the eldest Apple sibling doing here and why? Did that mean that Applejack was here too? How was it that he now had a magical horn and she was without her own? All this and more Rarity wanted to ask, but as the magic glow returned around the sword’s handle and he pointed the blade’s tip at her, it didn’t seem like Big Mac was in any mood to be answering questions. She quickly glanced over to the two bodies behind her. Selune’s chants continued throughout the throne room, and the light coming from the scroll, the skull, and the bodies gradually grew brighter, but there was still no sign of life coming from either Spike or Discord. Rarity exhaled and readied her dagger as she stared down the larger pony in front of her. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, Big McIntosh,” she said, her voice low and tone as hard as steel as the workhorse took a step forward, “but unless you wish to get hurt, stand down.” Her eyes narrowed into a glare. “I’d hate to have dear Applejack all overworked from the farm again just because you‘re too busy recovering to do your share.” Big Mac paused and cocked his head to a side, seemingly giving Rarity’s ultimatum its due consideration, at least for a second or so before speaking his first word to her: “Nope.” And with that characteristically concise declaration made, he bolted toward her with his great sword held high above his head, their deadly dance beginning anew as Big McIntosh would swing ferociously, and Rarity would get out of the blade’s path. Despite her earlier bravado, Rarity’s own attacks were few and far between, partially due to her unwillingness to risk dealing any real lasting or potentially life threatening damage and partially because it just seemed more beneficial to her to spend her energy dodging rather than trying to stab through Big McIntosh’s armor. After all, her goal here wasn’t to defeat Big Mac or even to tire him out but to keep him occupied and buy Selune time to complete her spell. Whatever was driving the normally calm and collected farmer to act out in such a violent manner, Rarity was sure the three of them together, she, Spike, and Discord, four if you counted Selune, would be able to set him straight, especially since the one with nigh infinite power at his talon tips also happened to have a knack for messing with personalities. A sound strategy, and for a while, the execution of her plan went smoothly. The fickleness of fortune soon struck, however, as one particularly daring move, perhaps one that was somewhat riskier than any she had attempted previously as a result of her gradually growing confidence, brought Rarity right in the way of a chanced backswing and left her with very little time to react. All she could do at this point was to turn slightly so that the flat surface of Big Mac’s massive blade slammed into her side instead of somewhere more vital. It might not have been the cleanest of hits nor did it have the fullest of force behind it, but from such a heavy weapon the impact still sent Rarity soaring through the air until she crashed into the wall and dropped to the floor with a thud and a cry. Her struck side was sore but far less than Rarity had anticipated, and that discomfort lost to the pain that came from the back to back collisions with the wall and ground. As Rarity slowly climbed to her feet, drawing in short breaths through her teeth to keep herself steady and shaking the numbness from her limbs, she saw why that was that had been the case. Scattered on the floor around her were a number of unlit torches, some broken preserved nutrition bars and bits of trail mix, glass vials, one of which had shattered and its pieces now in a small pool of red liquid, and an empty tinderbox as it’s contents had been spilt onto the ground along with the rest of Rarity’s gear. Her saddlebags must have gotten between Rarity and Big Mac’s sword and softened the blow, a theory supported by a quick peek at what shredded fabric remained of the satchel on her side. Seeing that he had landed his first big hit, Big McIntosh stepped toward the battered Rarity but paused after only a couple of steps and turned instead to the chanting and glowing skull some distance to her side. Whether it had been the mysteriously angelic, musical voice that caught his attention or the suspicious and ever brightening light coming from the unrolled parchment and the two bodies, Big Mac redirected his warpath toward Selune instead. Dread over the spell being interrupted or worse filled Rarity with adrenaline that allowed her to pushed past the pain as she forced herself forward, but her panicked rush across a surface slick with potion came to a crashing halt when something caught between her hoof and the floor, causing Rarity to slip and fall. The room became silent, Selune’s chanting having come to a short and rather abrupt end. Rarity raised her head in time to watch the large stallion rear up and to share a look with the image of the alicorn. Their gazes met briefly before Selune closed her eyes and bowed her head, just as Big McIntosh’s hooves started to drop. “No!” Rarity screamed, but there was nothing she could do from her position to prevent Big McIntosh’s heavy hooves from smashing the skull to smithereens. A long, tired, and yet strangely satisfied sigh rang out through the room as the spirit of the Moonmaiden disappeared, and the light that had been coming from the scroll and Spike and Discord was quickly fading too. Rarity’s heart found its way to the back of her throat as she stared at the bodies of her friends and at the scroll, waiting to see if the spell of resurrection had been successfully completed. The seconds felt like agonizing hours to Rarity, and each second where there was no observable development piled on more stress and worry that tipped her further into despair. Then, a twitch! It happened so quickly, Rarity couldn’t be sure she hadn’t simply imagined seeing Discord’s scaly leg jerk out of desperation, but there was more movement now to ascertained as Spike’s claws clenched into a fist, as Discord’s toes awoke and wiggled, rejuvenating that dwindling supply of hope with renewed relief. There was no mistaking the sight of their chests slowly rising and falling, the corpses were miraculously drawing breath once more, and from her vantage point, Rarity could see that though Discord‘s eyes remained shut, their lids were free of the crosses that had appeared over them. Rarity‘s relieved sigh barely made it past her lips when Big McIntosh stepped into her view and cut her celebratory mood short. Standing over the stirring body of Spike, he stared down blankly at the now breathing dragon, and without a word or change in his expression, he raised his sword. By this point, Rarity had gotten back up, but the distance between them and her was too great, and there was just no way of getting to Spike in time to prevent the advance of Big Mac’s sword. Rarity frantically searched the floor in order to find something to throw at the farmer turned enforcer. She’d prefer her dagger which had fallen out of her hold when she tripped, but if it could distract Big McIntosh long enough for her to reach them, anything would do. The first thing Rarity’s hooves managed to find was the rounded object that had gotten underfoot and caused her to fall in the first place, which she discovered to be the horn of Halaster. It was hardly the most ideal projectile, but as she picked up the primitive instrument and tested its weight, the memory of Elkraps’s observations in regards to the trumpet’s properties came to the forefront of Rarity’s thoughts. The dullness in Big McIntosh’s eyes, the vacant look on his face, the fact that he seemed so bent on harming his friends in accordance to will of some evil magic cephalopod. It was an assumption, but it was all Rarity had time to work with as she placed the horn’s mouthpiece to her lips, pointed its conical bell at Big Mac, and blew. What escaped the horn was forceful, raucous, like the pained yowl of cat with their tail caught by a closed door muffled by a paper bag. It was the kind of sound one would expect out of somepony who had absolute no experience in playing wind musical instruments, and most importantly, it gave Big McIntosh pause. The runes on the choker around his faded, the sword clattered on the ground as the stallion released his hold over it, and he shook his head and groaned, holding his front hooves up to his head. When he put his forelegs down, Rarity saw that those green eyes of his were now clear as day, their vibrant shine no longer being blocked by the previous cloudiness. “Big McIntosh?” Rarity ventured, taking a cautious step toward him and Spike. “Are you feeling better? Any less, hmm, murderous perhaps?” Confusion flashed over Big Mac’s features momentarily before recognition and relief took over. He gave Rarity a weak grin and nodded. “Eey—“ There was a burst of light, and Big Mac stumbled a couple of steps toward Rarity with a grunt before his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed in a heap. Steam drifted up from the back of Big Mac’s head, and Rarity could spot a dark bruise and some swelling there as well. His breathing was shallow and weak, but the stallion’s current state wasn’t her only concern, nor was Rarity so certain that it was her most pressing one, for standing right before her was the Squid Wizard, still dressed in that stage magician’s costume. With him was a pair of armed skeletons, one bony pony on each of his sides, and in one of his many tentacle he held up a wand, its tip glowing as he pointed it at her.