The next day, Shadow gathered, along with his father and many other lycans, to the audience ring around the arena to witness the death of a strange little pony. A pony who, quite remarkably, maintained a center of calm in the middle of cries, cheers, jeers, and the bang of war drums that really got the heart pumping. The sky blue pony, Feather Wind, assessed this for a moment as his eyes scanned among all the audience around him. After that, he simply sat down with his back straight, eyes closed, and crossed his hind legs in a fashion Shadow never thought a pony could physically do.
During this time, Feather Wind was indeed wearing his magical Mist Cloak and tiny ruby on a necklace, but in addition to that, he was also wearing a magic collar that had spikes facing inward towards the wearer. If either Shadow, or his father, activates the magic of that collar, it would cause an adjustable degree of a squeeze on the wearer. At minimum, it could puncture the neck with the surrounding spikes, and at most, it could literally squeeze his head off.
Shadow sat next to his father on his obsidian throne. His father stood up and addressed the crowd with a magically enhanced, booming voice. The king explained something about this pony, who might be a spy from the surface world, and had to be dealt with, but added the fact that this Trial by Claw was actually the pony's request. The king was only too happy to oblige and added that his son agreed. In accordance with that, the king had arranged this trial to test the mettle of this seemingly puny but overconfident pony against the royal might of the Lycan Empire.
However, when the king went on to mention that he would be challenging this pony to each of his warriors one by one, Feather Wind finally broke his pose with an objection.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty, but I have a request,” Feather Wind brought up to the king. “Instead of challenging me against each of your warriors one by one, I request to fight them all at once.”
Stunned shock swept through the audience, including Shadow.
“My entire regiment?” King Archimedes asked skeptically. “I wasn't going to press you that hard. Instead, I was only going to have you face, and possibly defeat, a certain number of my warriors. You would only have to beat six to win your request.”
“Nah. That would take too long,” Feather Wind rejected.
The king leaned forward as he emphasized, “I have eighteen at the ready. Are you sure you're so eager to die?”
“That's all?” Feather Wind challenged.
“Some of them are my best warriors,” the king added.
“Great! Bring them on, then,” Feather Wind invited. “All of them. I want to get this over with so I won't be late for my wife's cooking.”
The King leaned back in his seat as he lifted an eyebrow. He rubbed his bottom lip with a claw as he attempted to assess what this pony's strategy might be.
“Yes. You know I'm up to something, don't you?” Feather Wind asked as if reading the king's mind. “Aren't you curious to know what it is? If I can hold my own against eighteen of your best warriors, wouldn't you like to know how I did it? Or could you forever be satisfied not knowing that answer?
“If, instead, it turns out that I'm just foolishly boasting, then your warriors will rip me to shreds in seconds. Either way,” Feather shrugged, “you'll get a good show.” Feather threw up his forward hooves, standing on his hind legs for a few seconds to do so. “And isn't that the point of this arena? To give your subjects a good show?
“What say you, lycans?!” Feather Wind called to the rest of the audience with a similarly enhanced voice all of the sudden. “A mere pony has presented a challenge to face all of your best warriors all at once. Who, among you, would also have such courage? Isn't it honorable to fight for the glory of the Lycan Empire?
“You are all warriors, are you not? As such, you feel the cry for battle! The thrill of the hunt. For the thrill of the smell of blood in the air.
“Well . . . here I am! My meat is as succulent as the next herbivore. COME AND GET ME . . . if you dare!”
He flung a sudden and intense challenging stare at the king. A daring look that seems to say, “If you deny my request, you prove to all your subjects here that you are a coward!”
King Archimedes tapped his claws together three times then passed his adjacent son a questioning look that seemed to ask, “Well? What do you think I should do?”
“This pony is clearly insane,” Shadow verbally answered in response to that look. “But I have to admit . . . I'm curious what he can do. I'm also curious to discover why he is that overconfident.
“Plus, you have to admit,” Shadow continues, “he's got us in a corner. If we refuse his request, we not only may appear weak to him, but far more importantly, we look weak to all of our subjects. That, alone, is unacceptable.
“So go ahead. Grant the fool a speedy path to his death. Let him die in glorious combat like a true lycan warrior. In honor of how gutsy he is, he's already earned that right.
“Besides, he is the one who made this challenge. As such, he already had the right to at least request this.”
“Do you recall the last lycan who made such a request and actually won?” the king asked his son as a test.
Shadow thought back, then answered, “That would be High Marshal Juxton. He was a mighty earth lycan who could heal from his wounds so fast it was visible to the naked eye, although it also caused him to starve somewhat. He consumed the animals we threw at him in the arena to help make up for that, and he did it in mid-combat. He also had bulk, thick hide, and savagery like I've never seen, but even he paced himself carefully during that fight. He spread out his attackers and tore them down one by one.”
Shadow shook his head as the awe he felt back then came back to him. “That fight was legendary! Naught, in many centuries, had we ever seen such powerful a warrior.”
The king nodded in agreement, then asked, “Do you think we'll see something like that here?”
Shadow shrugged as he answered, “Well . . . I know one way to find out.”
“Indeed,” the king concurred as he looked back at Feather Wind before calling aloud, “Very well, foolish pony. I shall grant you your request. And, when you die, it shall be with honor no matter how quick this competition lasts.”
“Your Majesty,” Feather Wind said with a bow to the king, “a quick competition is exactly what I have in mind.”
“Die well, little pony,” the king declared before he rose a paw dramatically.
Several gates around the arena open. Shortly later a flood of lycans charged into the arena.
Feather Wind scanned among them all and noticed he was facing a fair variety of different types of lycans, although about sixty percent of them were earth lycans.
A grand announcer's voice rose above the crowd who detailed tonight's match. He riled up the crowd for a few minutes. After that, the match began when King Archimedes raised a paw, held it aloft for a few seconds, then dropped it dramatically. A giant gong sounded to signal the true start of the fight.
When that happened, most of the lycans started charging directly at Feather Wind in the center of the arena, but the rest held back to give themselves a chance to pause and assess the progress of their more rambunctious comrades.
They were all surprised, however, when a fog suddenly erupted around Feather Wind which quickly concealed his position.
“Where was the magic?” Shadow asked aloud. “His horn didn't glow.”
“One of his items, perhaps,” the king theorized.
This new, unexpected phenomenon caused the charges to pause for a moment. They glanced at each other as if to see if any other warrior here knew what was going on, but all they saw was equal confusion from the rest of the pack.
One of the warriors, in this case one of two unicorn types, blasted a hornbeam into the fog. It simply shot out the other side.
“Watch it,” one of the bigger and gruff earth lycans complained to the shooter. “Don't fire when we're in there.
“As for the rest of you, charge in. Let's sniff him out. Our prey cannot hide from us for long,” he ordered. In response, the lycans resumed their charge into the fog.
Twelve out of eighteen combatants charged into the fog. They searched around as they sniffed for their prey. Those who were still outside witnessed the remarkable sight of their prey climb to the top of the fog then simply stood there as if he were actually a pegasus.
“He's above you all!” one of the winged lycans warned the others. “He's actually standing on the fog! Bugger if I know how. Must be some kind of spell he cast.”
“He's standing on the fog?” one of the lycans within the fog asked in disbelief.
“I'll get him!” the flier decided then proceeded to dive to the cloud walking pony.
“NO! MAINTAIN AERIAL SURVEILLANCE!” one of the lycans ordered within the fog.
Feather Wind just stared up at the flier as he dive-bombed towards him. At the last second, his horn ignited with a brilliant silver light. In response, one of the lycans within the fog was suddenly chucked at the flier. By then, the flier had too much momentum to dodge and not enough warning. They ended up colliding into each other then landed in a heap somewhere within the fog.
After that, Feather Wind floated nearby him some ruby crystal shield before leaping off the fog and gave a hard gallop towards, but not quite at, the remaining lycans who refused to charge in earlier. He galloped right past them at an angle. Once that happened, they felt an irresistible urge to give chase. It was a too deeply ingrained predator instinct.
“He knows,” Shadow realized aloud. “He wants them to give chase, and he knows that they can't resist if he runs in their presence. It's as if this pony has grown up around predators for years.”
“He was frustrated that they didn't all charge at once,” Shadow's father added. “That was his plan originally. He's attempting to gather them all up in one place. Since he was so insistent to challenge all of our fighters at the same time, my guess is he plans to finish them with an area attack as soon as they are gathered.”
“It might actually work, too,” Shadow figured.
At that moment, Feather's strategy was kind of working. Most of them gave chase, but some of them lingered a short distance in preparation to cut off Feather's escape. As highly trained warriors, they knew to adapt and take charge of the battlefield. The arena was pretty big, but it nevertheless was surrounded on all sides by high walls that end in downwardly pointing spikes ready to stab any creature foolish enough to attempt to scale the walls. Within the arena, the lycans used coordinated pack tactics to control the flow and direction of their prey. It was like watching a dog herd a pack of sheep, only in complete reverse.
Some of them drew pretty close and almost nipped him with a bite attack, but Feather either steered or leaped out of the way, typically just barely avoiding the attack.
But, of course, that was what the lycans wanted. They were attempting to corner him against the wall of the arena then surround every other path around that wall before closing in for the kill, likely quite slowly in order to savor their victory.
As the chase went on, Feather proved considerably more resourceful with that lone ruby shield than his chasers thought. The first time he surprised his pursuers was when one of the fliers dove at him from above. When that happened, Feather raised his shield above his head and the flier collided with that. Once the flier was clinging to the top of the shield, Feather spun the shield faster and faster. In seconds, the flying lycan became a blur of motion. After that, the shield he was clung to got flung in the direction of another lycan that got close to Feather's left. The flier crashed on top of the ground lycan. Moreover, the flier remained on top of his companion because he was far too dizzy.
In another instance, the largest lycan closed in on Feather Wind’s right. He was about to snap his jaws at the lone pony until he got bashed by the ruby shield hard enough to daze him. When that happened, Feather swept the shield at the large earth lycan's legs. He ended up tripping over the shield and landed with a skidding halt face first in the dirt. Not only that, but his large body also tripped up one of his companions closely behind him.
Later, another one of the fliers was lifting up one of the two unicorn lycans. From above, she aimed her horn down and shot a beam at Feather from above. The shield quickly veered to block that beam. When the beam struck the shield, it glowed bright red for a few seconds, especially within the crystal lattice of the shield. The light brightened towards the outer edge of the shield before suddenly reversing its course. The light gathered in the center of the shield then shot a beam right back at Feather's attacker, except the aim of the shield was redirected at the flier carrying the unicorn. When he got hit, it stunned him. He ended up not only dropping the unicorn he originally held, but he crashed hard into the ground which ended up injuring him even more.
“What?!” Shadow exclaimed in shock. “That shield can reflect magical energy right back at its attackers? And where did he get it, anyway?”
“He created it in the mist,” King Archimedes answered as he assessed the pony in the arena with a very dark and focused look.
“Created it?” Shadow echoed. “So he can grow and enchant magic crystals that fast?”
The king did not respond. He just kept staring at the fleeing pony while collectively tapping his claws together one by one near his muzzle.
While it was true that Feather was being a rather slippery and resourceful prey, the lycans ultimately had the upper paw. Despite a few setbacks, their tactics were working. They successfully herded Feather against the wall then quickly surrounded him. Those fliers who recovered also landed to join their closing in brethren.
Feather backed into the wall, glanced at the wall behind him at that moment, then swept a gaze across the mostly U shape of lycans closing in front of him.
“There is no escape for you, pony!” one of the lycan warriors taunted.
“You so sure about that?” Feather Wind checked. “As an old mentor of mine liked to say, 'See a trap laid out by the enemy? Then charge straight into it like an idiot. It's the last thing anyone would expect.'”
“Huh?” one of the lycans asked as she comically tilted her head to the side in confusion.
Feather took the lycans by surprise when he charged forward at the lycans ahead of him in the U shape pattern. At the last second, Feather threw his shield forward. The lycans ahead cringed and winced, but the shield only ended up hovering above their heads. Feather Wind jumped up then leaped off his own shield, thus using it as a small platform. As a result, he landed on the other side of their closing line and galloped beyond them.
“Get him!” one of the lycans ordered.
Another lycan commended, “Wow, that was clever of him! It never occurred to me to use a shield like that before. This is one of the most willy prey I have ever chased.”
“Then learn from him,” the one that ordered for the group to give chase recommended. “Some of us could potentially do that, too.”
“Where did he get that wonderful shield?” asked another lycan as they gave chase. “After we kill him, I call dibs on the shield.”
The largest lycan nodded his head to non-verbally command the group to surround and close in on the pony again. Wordlessly, they obeyed.
The chase continued for a few more minutes. During that time, most of the arena combatants started to get tired, but not as much as the prey they chased. No doubt that was a natural consequence of having such a small body. Aside from that, his pursers generally had the upper paw when it came to speed due to simply having longer legs to run with.
In the end, they were all panting as they closed in on him in the center of the arena, but Feather was out of breath the most. Once again, he scanned among all the lycans closing around him.
“Checkmate,” King Archimedes suddenly declared.
“Yeah,” Shadow agreed. “They have him now. He's far too tired to escape this time.”
“No,” the king shook his head. “He has them,” he corrects.
“What?” Shadow asked as he looked at his father.
“Look at them,” the king encouraged as he gestured ahead with his muzzle. “They are finally all gathered in one spot.”
Shadow looked back, then widened his eyes. Earlier, he had been so excited about the chase that it had not occurred to him what the results ended up.
“Give up, little pony?” the large lycan taunted. “You cannot escape us now. Surrender to your fate.” His look softened a bit into one of respect as he went on to say, “Honor is satisfied. You did well against us . . . for a puny runt of a pony.”
“I'm not planning on running anymore,” Feather agreed between his pants. “You're right. This is the endgame.”
“Wise for you to accept it,” the large lycan said with a smirk. “In respect to your valiant effort, we'll make this quick.”
“I invite you to do your worst,” Feather encouraged. “for I shall not. I don't even require more than a mere fraction of my power to defeat you all.”
“A fraction of almost nothing equates to nothing,” the large lycan chuckled, but then his look grew cold, focused, and serious. He cranes his neck back and breaks into a howl as a signal for the others to charge in and finish this pony off at last.
As was typical across this match, Feather Wind held his ground until the very last second. The lycans were kind of expecting that. They knew there might be a surprise this time, but Feather's fatigue definitely seemed to limit his options. They figured that, even if Feather had a backup plan, it couldn't be much at this point.
But, just before they could latch onto him with fang and claw, Feather Wind dropped the ruby shield below him. After that, a burst of pressurized air exploded beneath Feather Wind's hooves which pushed back his attackers a bit and projected the pony into the air, and this time the pony didn't land after that. He remained suspended in the air while small parts of his body were enveloped by a silvery glow, but it didn't seem nearly strong enough to support his body weight despite how light he was.
When Feather hovered eighteen feet above them, the red crystal on his neck glowed red for a moment. Moments later, red crystal tendrils drew from the ruby shield. It spread out in every direction around it until it covered a circumference of about twenty feet. After that, it suddenly grew diagonal spikes back towards the center which crisscrossed twelve feet above them. When the process was done, the lycans were surrounded on all sides by a crystal prison. They couldn’t even burrow under or fly over it.
“You insolent little pony!” one of the unicorn lycans barked harshly. “You think you're so clever, don't you? Well take THIS!” She shot a hornbeam at him from above her but the crystal bars nearest to that aim pulled the beam and redirected it at the bar itself. Once that happened, the bar glowed brighter red for a moment as crystal lattice glowed within it. Seconds later, that pattern reversed. The light gathered back at the contact point and shot a beam right back at her, but one of her companions leaped in the way and physically shielded her from her own blast.
The unicorn grunted while she looked at her fallen companion, but whipped her head back up at Feather Wind. Her horn glowed again and attempted to cease Feather Wind in a telekinetic hold, but the cage seemed to contain the magic again, but this time it didn't retaliate.
One final measure she tried to escape this was to teleport outside of the prison, and this time it worked for a moment. She ended up outside of the crystal prison for a few seconds, but then the bars of the cage rattled with gathering energy. When it reversed, she was yanked right back into the cage with a reversed teleportation spell.
“Wow, I am impressed,” Feather Wind commended to her. “Teleportation is a rare gift in this world. You do, indeed, have some talent. I realize, now, that when your king said you are all his best warriors, he actually meant best combatants.”
As a final measure of struggle with the trapped lycans, the largest lycan charged and crashed against several of the crystal bars. To his credit, he actually did crack several of them. He continued to press his full weight against the damaged bars as he grinned at it in a cocky way, but that look shifted to one of concern when he saw the bars glow and rattle. Seconds later, he flew backwards when the bars reversed the kinetic energy it absorbed earlier. When that happened, the large earth lycan was struck with the same amount of force he gave the bars. In addition, the bars repaired themselves as if time reversed.
Shadow blinked as he leaned back in his seat in astonishment as he realized that this crystal prison seemed to have the ability to absorb then reflect any kind of kinetic energy. Doing so would apparently also repair the crystal as if it never got struck.
But that got Shadow thinking. It was possible that the crystal had a limited stress point. Magic like that should only function if a certain percentage of it were intact. That means if it took too much damage all at once, it might shatter without the chance to reflect the gathered energy.
Feather Wind nodded at the captured lycans in respect. “Honor is satisfied. You did well against me . . . for a bunch of lycans,” he said as a direct mockery of one of their own words against him earlier, then he bowed to them in midair. “Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have to address your king.”
Feather Wind looked back at the king while gesturing to all the trapped lycans below him. “They are rendered unable to fight, Your Majesty. The match is over. I won.”
King Archimedes lowered his claws that were in front of his face as he called back, “The rules of the Trial by Claw specify that the match continues until one side is unable to fight, but your opponents can still move; therefore, they can fight. As futile as it seems to be, they can fight.” The king narrowed his eyes and spreads an evil grin across his face as he went on to say, “Finish them.”
What?! Shadow thought in shock. Father . . . you can't be serious! They are our own subjects.
Still floating in midair, Feather Wind sighed with dread as he asked, “You're really going to make me do this?”
“You were the one who called for this trial,” the king reminded tauntingly. “So finish it in accordance with our traditions. Secure your honor by proving your might against inferior foes. Finish them!” the king insists while maintaining a wicked gleam in his eyes as if either convinced that this pony won't do it, or privately cheering over tempting Feather into kindred savagery.
For the first time during this arena, Shadow felt scared. Not for Feather Wind's sake, but for those trapped lycans beneath him. The impossible seemed like it might happen. A bleeding pony was about to slay a large group of their best warriors. Shadow regarded Feather at the edge of his seat, but unlike his father, the prince actually dreaded this outcome.
“Now I feel all the more homesick,” Feather groaned. “But fine. Whatever. If earning your respect, and my freedom, requires me to fulfill one last sacrifice, then that is what I shall do.”
He looked down at the imprisoned lycans as he expressed with remorse, “I'm sorry.”
“As our king has ordered, finish us,” the large lycan said stiffly. Clearly he was struggling to be brave, but he didn't really want to die. Despite that, he was a warrior who was loyal to his king. Dying in glorious combat was the highest achievement they could aim for.
As for the rest of the lycans, they drew closer to each other. Some of them even huddled in the crystal cage. The pony had them and they knew it. Now all they had to look forward to was their own demise.
Feather Wind took a deep intake of breath then slowly let it out. After that, he shot his forehooves in opposite directions. In response, winds picked up around the cage. It spun faster and faster. Within seconds, it became a tornado.
But the crystal cage kind of protected them, and aside from that, they were in the eye of the tornado anyway, so they weren't directly affected.
As the winds picked up, Shadow noticed that Feather Wind's horn was glowing, but not nearly bright enough to account for this much magical, awe-inspiring power.
Eventually it became apparent what Feather Wind's true strategy was, for those within the cage started to collapse due to suffocation. Apparently the tornado created a temporary air vacuum in the center. Feather Wind himself, however, was unaffected for some reason except for the fact that his normally poofy white mane and tail was swept straight and whipped back and forth.
Shadow looked at his father anxiously, hoping against hope that his father would call this off. But, from what he could tell, his father seemed to be brimming with building excitement. It's as if he considered the loss of his most loyal and best warriors somehow a closing victory.
Shadow looked back at those trapped within the cage. It was hard to tell since the tornado swept up a ton of sand, but based on their silhouette through that wind, they had collapsed onto the ground and reached up desperately as they gasped for breath that just would not come.
They were suffering in there. They were dying in there, and Shadow grew shocked to realize that he actually cared! These pathetic, ephemeral, and seemingly meaningless little mortals actually got to him that day.
Whatever the case was, the sight of this was unbearable, and Shadow has had enough!
“STOP!” Shadow demanded with a roar. “AS PRINCE OF THE LYCAN EMPIRE, I DECLARE THE PONY, FEATHER WIND, TO BE THE CLEAR AND HONORABLE VICTOR OVER HIS OPPONENTS!”
The giant gong sounded again, this time signaling the end of the match. It was, after all, another potential victory condition. If royalty of the arena declared a victor, then so shall it be.
King Archimedes grunted in annoyance while passing his son a withering stare.
“They are our best warriors, Father,” Shadow explained to his father. “If they die now, they won't even have a chance to train the next generation. An ongoing loss of that magnitude would be too severe for the Empire. Such a weakness may invite our enemies to attack. The goal of our Empire is to achieve greater strength, not the opposite. Am I wrong?”
“Sometimes, my son, you really disappoint me,” the king growled. “Once again, your emotions have clouded you into a lack of foresight.”
The King passed his cold glare at the floating pony who did indeed cancel the mighty winds. As a result, the lycans in the cage started to recover.
“But, in a way, you are right,” King Archimedes partially agreed. “I'll simply have to continue this using another tactic.”
The king grabbed the edge of his throne and used it to pull him up. He rose from his seat majestically but also with a lot of menacing presence to his movements.
Meanwhile, the lycan prince happened to notice that Feather Wind was staring directly at him with a look of pride. Oddly enough, it even seemed to be a familiar sort of pride.
Feather Wind’s look shifted back to serious as his look transferred from the prince to the king as he beheld the king's announcement.
“My misbegotten son has ended the match prematurely,” the king announced. “I will adhere to his judgment when it comes to them specifically. They may go.
“However,” the king cuts a paw across the air dramatically, “you are not free to go until you complete one more challenge, and this time there shall be no outside interference, and it shall be to the death!” He thrust a single claw upwards as he added, “Since I want to make sure you are not deterred from using your maximum effort this time, I shall encourage it by giving you a non-living opponent.” The king slams both of his paws on the rail as he warns, “However . . . be warned that your next opponent will kill you if you do not put forward a serious effort, for it shall have no pity, or remorse, or fear . . . and it absolutely will not stop until you are dead.” He smiled in evil satisfaction. “Have I made myself clear?”
Feather Wind waves a hoof through the air. As a result, his own crystal prison shattered like billions of shards of tiny glass that rained down upon the previously trapped lycans. Other lycans had charged into the arena to help those who couldn't stand, but most of them had recovered. Those who couldn't stand yet were still getting better.
“You've made yourself perfectly clear, Your Majesty, save for one point.” Feather gave the king a hard look. “If I complete this challenge, will I be free to go afterwards, and alive?”
King Archimedes nods as he assured, “Yes, mighty pony. If you survive this challenge, you shall be free to go as you will.”
Shadow wondered to himself why his father tacked on that last stipulation to the end of his sentence, but he did realize his father was up to something. As usual, his father planned ten steps ahead.
“Then I will adhere to your judgment, Your Majesty,” Feather Wind accepted with a graceful bow as he floated back to the ground gently like a dropped feather. “Let this mortal combat begin.”
“That's what I like to hear!” King Archimedes declared with a wide wicked look of satisfaction. He raised both of his forepaws up dramatically. “Let it be known, and so shall it be, that this match of the arena will determine the fate of this particular pony! My loyal subjects, I give you . . . the J-X Juggernaut!”
A cheer arose as a giant door in the arena started to open. This huge door was over eighteen feet tall and four feet thick. It was made of solid iron. Below it was many pointy spikes shaped like pyramids which helped it to lock into the floor whenever it was shut. To open it, a single giant iron chain dragged it up on a pulley system. Each link of that giant chain made a loud click sound.
Feather Wind looked down as he sighed with annoyance, then looked off the corner of his right eye at this new emerging threat.
Beyond the door was this giant cylinder shaped contraption on two large tractor wheels. It hissed, groaned, and clicked as it came to life. The sides of this cylinder thing had multiple long tentacle-like arms with weapons attached to the end of them, particularly axes. At the front were a large black cannon and two smaller pipes off to the side of the canon. It looked like the cylinder could rotate at the base.
Several lights came on in front of the machine. After that, it started to roll its way into the arena.
The sight of it made the crowd cheer all the louder.
When the machine started to emerge into the arena, Feather Wind floated one of the crystal shards around him. He peered in the direction of the emerging machine carefully then shot the crystal right past the machine. The crystal hit one of the links of the giant iron chain instead. From there, the crystal quickly grew in size. Doing so stressed the link which snapped in about four seconds. Once that happened, the chains could no longer support the giant door. It came crashing down directly on top of the machine. The pyramid spikes stabbed into it and forced the thing to a sudden halt. Aside from that, it was now too damaged to be operational anyway. It was crushed down to about half its original size. From there, steam leaked from it.
“I doubt it's typical for you to subject the rest of your own subjects to this kind of treatment,” Feather Wind figured aloud. “But, to be fair, I also doubt they could handle it anyway.
“You called me a pathetic twig once.” Feather Wind snapped an intense and focused look directly at Shadow. “Do you still think I'm weak?”
Something changed in Shadow since that day as he beheld Feather Wind's look. Even from this distance, he saw Feather Wind's golden yellow eyes flash as if it were lightning in a thunderstorm. All of the sudden, Shadow realized he was beholding some awe-inspiring god who was an unstoppable force of nature. A god who merely disguised himself as a puny little pony as if to test the humility of others he encountered. In Shadow's case, he was judged to be wanting, so Feather Wind wasn't hiding his focused fury anymore.
During that moment, Shadow felt like Feather Wind could snap Shadow with the ease of a mere twig, and there was absolutely nothing that the lycan prince could do to stop it.
For the first time in . . . maybe ever? Shadow realized he felt true mortal terror. His life even flashed before his eyes despite how long it was.
Another thought that crossed his mind was of all the potentially infinite years of the future could be ended so quickly and so easily by a being this mighty. That meant so much was at stake. So much potential time could be lost.
So Shadow was afraid!
“Do you still think I'm weak?” Shadow recalled Feather Wind said moments ago, to which he mentally answered: No. The word 'fierce' comes to mind.
Actually, that reminds me a lot of my father, except somehow different. I can't put my paw on exactly why right now.
“Well then, Your Majesty,” Feather Wind went on to say, but this time to the king. “I await thy judgment. Allow me to depart in peace, else detract your word in front of all these wittiness.” Feather Wind waves a hoof to gesture across the entire crowd.
King Archimedes just stared at Feather Wind coldly. This was an expression he had been passing ever since his glorious machine was defeated so anti-climatically.
After nine seconds of dead silence, the king cracked his neck left and right, then he grabbed the rail. After that, he yanked himself forward. As a result, he shot across the stadium as a shadowy black blur. He traveled so fast, it was as if he teleported, except he physically traveled across the space in between.
When he arrived, he smacked Feather Wind spinning in the air until he telekinetically ceased control of Feather's collar. He used it to crush the little pony's neck and suspend him in midair that way. The spikes in the inward part of the collar dug into Feather Wind's flesh which, in turn, drew some blood.
“You insolent little wretch!” King Archimedes growled harshly. “You are addressing a king! A king of the mighty Lycan Empire! You may have gotten away with such behavior in the presence of royalty of Equestria, but here we have far higher standards. I should crush your tiny little neck right now for your insults on this day!”
Then, all of the sudden, he lets Feather Wind go. He dropped to the ground in a heap. The king approached and applied the weight of his forward paws down on top of Feather Wind's chest and neck.
“I may be compelled to keep my word, little horse, but never forget your place!” the king growled acidly as his son flew across the stadium and landed behind his father. “You are but mere dirt beneath my paws, and I'll be happy to remind you of that whenever it starts to slip your tiny and pathetic little mind. You will address me with respect, else I will make a trophy of your skull and mount it on my wall. Do I make myself clear?!”
Feather Wind choked and coughed on his first attempt to answer that question, but he managed much better the second time. He responded, “Yes, Your Majesty. You've made yourself perfectly clear. I apologize for any insult I may have caused.”
“Feather Wind, I have to ask you,” Shadow broached, “were you really going to slay all of those lycans in that cage?”
Feather Winds eyes looked down at Shadow as he answered, “No, because I didn’t have to. All I had to do was render them unconscious. Oxygen deprivation is a pretty reliable cause of that. Once they passed out, I would have allowed them to breathe again.”
“I figured that,” the king mentioned. “That’s why I allowed you to proceed. I also wanted to see how far you were willing to hold your threats, and I have to say, I am far more impressed with you than I am with certain lycans around here,” he said as he flashed his son another shot of an intense glare. His eyes even glowed brighter red at that moment.
After that, King Archimedes lowered his head inches above Feather Winds face as he glared coldly into the pony's eyes. So close was his face that his breath caused movement in Feather Wind's mane.
“Anyway, to make sure you do not forget your lesson, I have one last parting gift for you. Gaze upon it and remember . . . you are, and always shall be, mere dirt beneath my paws!”
Then, savagely, King Archimedes tore a bleeding scar across Feather Wind's right cheek and down his neck with a swipe of a claw. But, after that, the king got off of Feather Wind and even used his magic to finally snap off the cursed collar.
King Archimedes stepped back as he majestically spreads his wings which was a sign which Shadow recognized that his father was about to make a grand announcement.
“Now then, my little pony, as promised, you are free to go,” King Archimedes announced. “But, before you depart, there is one last thing that you should know.” He lifted the same claw that he swiped at Feather Wind with. “I had a coating of poison on my claws.” He tilted his head as he adds smugly, “Now, I could provide you the antidote, but it will come at a cost.”
“A pledge of allegiance. Am I right, Your Majesty?” Feather Wind asked as he crawled up to a sitting position, but he did not rise yet without further permission.
“Hmm. You do catch on quick!” the king said with approval. “I withdraw my earlier statement about your tiny mind. While it may be physically small, your wits cannot be matched by most.
“Your power would serve me well, my little pony, and it is clear to me now that you not only have great skill, but also fire in your eyes!” The claw he claimed to be poisoned clenched and shook in front of him. If he was right about the poison, he obviously did not fear it. “I saw the way you gazed at my son. Your heart burns with the passion to match a true lycan warrior. I have use for such overwhelming potential.
“You may have spared my lycan warriors, but at least you were willing to hold to your threats. Join me, and I shall mold you into an instrument greater than any force on this planet, aside from myself. With you by my side, we shall conquer Equestria and any other nation that dares stands in our way!” He said this while he shook his paw again, then he suddenly opened it and offered it in Feather Wind's direction. “What say you, little pony?”
Feather Wind wiped a hoof into his wound then sniffed the blood dripping at the tip of his hoof. A moment later he touched it with his tongue ever so slightly. After that, his red stone glowed on his neck. At the same moment, red lines scrolled back and forth across the blood on his hoof. Following that, he closed his eyes and kept silent for about ten seconds, presumably to consider the king’s offer.
“Permission to rise, Your Majesty?” Feather Wind requests when he finally opened his eyes.
In response, the king gestured for him to rise with a paw along with a confirming nod.
“I hope you don't take offense to what I'm about to say, and if you do . . . know that it is not intentional and I apologize in advance.
“That said, I shall share with you the fact that I have been on a long and amazing journey in my life. During that time, I have encountered many other despots and would-be despots who tried to recruit me and many of my friends. I'll tell you the same thing I told them; thanks, but no thanks.”
Feather Wind lifted the hoof with his blood on it. “Although, I have to say that this one is devious. Night Bloom, Your Majesty?” Feather Wind gave a tsk-tsk sound, then went on to say, “You weren't planning on giving me the antidote, were you? You were simply going to allow the infection to spread through my body so that I would become a lycan. Then, after that, you'd figure I have lost everything else anyway, so I might as well swear allegiance to you.
“Even if you intended to give me the cure, it would induce nausea, fervor, headaches, and especially vomiting.
“Of course, after three nights, the infection would spread so much that the amount I would need to cure me would sooner kill me.
“Fortunately for me, I know where Wolf's Bane grows, and I also have access to libraries which I can use to look up how to brew the anti-toxin. Maintaining records, after all, is a specialty of my family so don't you worry about me.”
Feather Wind closed his eyes and concentrated. His horn glowed for a moment. As a result, the wounds on his neck and cheek glowed. After that, they were completely healed, aside from the infection.
“Your offer is generous,” Feather Wind said with a bow to the king after opening his eyes again, “but I'm afraid I must decline, for I am a pony, you see. Like my parents before me and my foals will be after me.”
“Consider my offer carefully,” the king warned firmly. “There will be a coming war . . . and you don't want to be on the wrong side of it.”
“Do as you will, Your Majesty,” Feather Wind invited calmly. “When you do, other heroes will rise to match you. It may not be me, but there will always be someone willing to oppose evil.
“As for you,” Feather Wind shifted his eyes at Shadow. When it does, his expression softens considerably to a fond look. “It's good to see you again, my friend, and the real you this time.”
Feather Wind hopped and floated in the air with a soft shimmering silver glow along some parts of his body. During that time, his gaze still lingered on Shadow as he spoke.
“In the meantime, I am glad to have played some small role to facilitate you towards your true destiny. Until we meet again, my friend. Fare thee well.”
Feather Wind floats his hood over his head. He stuck horn through the narrow hole at the top of his cloud-like hood with practiced ease. There were also inner pockets on the four sides of his cloak. He floats the four corners of his cloud-cloak onto each of his four hooves then uses his legs to yank the cloak tot. Once that happens, wind mysteriously picked up. It billows in his cloak like a kite which, in turn, sailed him upward.
Along the way up, he levitated a chunk of crystal off the ground. It shot past him even faster than he was ascending. It ultimately stabbed into the roof of the cave then expanded to create a sort of tunnel between the crystal. When he flew through it, the crystal closed behind him. The ever-escalating light of his horn made that crystal glow dimmer and dimmer until it could no longer be seen above.
Silently, King Archimedes passed his son a quick but heavily judgmental look, likely because of Feather Wind's mysterious claim to recognize his son as an “old friend.”
But, after that, he walked away while folding his wings on his back again.
Shadow's gaze followed his father for a moment, then he looked up at the darkened new crystal on the roof of this cave.
Alone and in silence in his room, Shadow sat on the edge of his bed as he gazed down at his left paw. He turned it back and forth absently while his mind kept running over that day’s events.
Fear . . . Shadow finally felt it . . . but the really odd thing about it was the fact that Shadow actually enjoyed it upon hindsight. He enjoyed the adrenaline rush and the reminder that he was indeed alive.
Shadow felt the emotion many times with his own father. He vividly recalled the myriad of times when his father crushed Shadow's skull against the floor while his father hovered over him like a hungry wolf. The saliva of his drooling father dripped into Shadow's wound as if literally pouring salt into an open wound.
“Never forget . . . you are but mere dirt beneath my paws!” his father had menaced to him so many times over the centuries, yet oddly . . . Shadow only partially got used to it. It’s grown into a sad and empty sort of acceptance. The reminder did its job, for Shadow maintained no illusions of ever usurping his father. Instead, he grew content to serve out the rest of his meager eternal life swimming in the shadow he was born from.
So fear he knew very well . . . but there was something different about the way Feather Wind caused it. More importantly, there was something different about the results. His father's oppressive nature always made Shadow feel less than. In Feather Wind's eyes, however, there was a friendly twinkle hidden beneath his focused contempt. It was the kind of look that seemed to say, “If you want to become as strong as me, all you have to do is will it. Follow your dreams and you, too, shall discover your ultimate reality.”
Why did he claim to recognize me all of the sudden? Shadow wondered to himself. We only met once before. It was yesterday in the dungeon.
But that didn't feel right. Feather Wind looked at Shadow as if he were a fond friend. It also didn't elude Shadow's notice that he was the very next thing that Feather Wind looked at right after telling his father that other heroes would rise to oppose evil.
Is that what we are? Evil? Shadow wondered to himself. Sometimes I wonder.
I often think about if it's even possible that something better than this miserable existence is out there. I always grew up with the idea that reality is fixed and constant. It is a certain way and it shall never change. My life seems to be proof of that. It is ongoing. Whatever I am, I shall be ever onward.
But that look in Feather's eyes seemed to have suggested otherwise, like there is something more out there. Maybe something better? Is that possible?
One thing seemed clear to Shadow, and that was the fact that Feather Wind specialized in defying the impossible. That pony had an answer for every challenge he faced since the first moment that Shadow met him, and the little pony did it with such ease and calm. Only his father seemed to successfully repress Feather Wind, but the King was like that with everyone.
It felt like there was too much to decimate about that pony, so he decided to break it down to the basics.
Feather Wind was a unicorn that Dances in the Sky. He made the impossible possible.
Shadow clenched his paw as he looked out his bedroom window. Outside it was dark. It was an eternal night. Few things served to illuminate the Empire. One of them is the Heart of the Lycans. After recent experiences, it felt appropriate to realize that it was a magic crystal.
Flashes of the paws of the lycans reaching up while suffocating in the center of that tornado returned to torment Shadow's mind, but through it, he gained a remarkable epiphany about himself.
He cared. He actually cared. That was a profound realization for Shadow. Too long he felt empty within himself only to have that spark ignite within his soul and cast a brief flicker of light. Already he felt starving for that light to return. He struggled to hold onto the memory and every nuance about it.
I must not forget! Shadow inwardly vows. I will not forget.
I am not my father. I don't fully realize what that means yet, but I have an eternity to try to figure it out.
Maybe . . .
Just maybe . . .
That will be enough time.
A knock on his door disrupts his train of thought.
“Enter,” Shadow ordered.
The lady from last night enters, although she appeared much more timid this time.
“I have been sent to please you, Your Majesty,” she said upon entering. “Please,” she bowed deeply to him, “use this body however you will.”
Shadow just stared at her for a silent moment, then ordered, “Come before me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied before quickly complied. She knelt in front of her prince.
Shadow scooped up her face with a paw so that their eyes met. He locked eyes with her for a moment. He noticed the fact she seemed far more afraid of him this time. Gone was the playful banter she used to have yesterday. In his paw, he could feel her shaking like a leaf.
Contrary to what Feather Wind thinks, not every lycan is a warrior, Shadow reminded himself. They may be the most revered in our society, but there are too many lycans that, for one reason or another, can't measure up to that standard. Fortunately for them, they have other roles that they can meet in our society such as medics, hunters, and miners.
Shadow gripped her face and pulled her close. She did not resist in the slightest other than a bit of a quiver to her. He heard and felt her quickened breath as she attempted to sink her mind into and surrender herself to her lustful feelings for him.
For a moment, Shadow tried as well. He sniffed her head, her face, down her neck, her chest, and eventually her sex. Her femaleness tried to intoxicate him, and for a very brief moment, it almost worked.
But the flash vision of those dying lycans in the tornado returned to him with a vengeance. It taught him life was precious, even ones as brief as the rest of his society.
He also realized how brightly they shone during that short lifetime. The thrill of battle, the laughter of comrades slapping each other, their banter, their concerns and fears . . . all of it was something that Shadow lacked.
He was the exact opposite of them in every way. He's like a star with a very slow burn. So slow that his light was dim and cold. The void felt thick around him while living trapped in such total darkness. He used to try to find some comfort and acceptance in that. For the longest time, he succeeded, but now . . .
That spark . . . he can't ignore it, and the truth was he really didn't want to.
Shadow pulled her up into his chest as he suddenly changed tactics. Instead of trying to make love to her, he simply embraced her affectionately. He allowed this moment to sink in as he realized how much he cherished her.
This life . . . this humble little light in his arms . . . it was such a gift!
He felt her stiffen when his paws happened to touch one of the many lashes on her back. This caused him to suddenly realize why she was so timid tonight. His father, apparently, kept his word. Shadow forgot about that until this tender moment.
He buried his face into her neck and wept. His shoulder bobbed as tears sunk into her flesh.
“Your . . . Your Majesty!” the female exclaimed in worry and shock. “Have I . . . have I done something wrong . . . again?”
“No. Instead, I have done something wrong,” Shadow explained through his whimper. He was additionally difficult to understand because he was muffled by her shoulder, but she understood him anyway. Not his meaning, but his words despite the difficulty.
She even said it.
“Your Majesty . . . I don't understand.”
Shadow lifted his head off her shoulder, looked deeply into her eyes, and asked, “Tell me . . . what is your name?”
She looked taken aback as she said, “I told you yesterday, Your Majesty.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But this time . . . I'm listening. I'm really listening.”
“My name is Spice, Your Majesty,” she answered. “Sizzling Spice.”
“Sizzling Spice,” Shadow repeated as if tasting the words, then said, “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Spice. I am Shadow. I hope we can be friends from now on.”
She looked to be on her guard as if afraid this was some kind of test.
“Let me assure you now,” Shadow said as his gaze bore into her face, “that I won't let anyone hurt you from now on. Nobody. You hear me? Not even my father.”
For a moment she still seemed on the fence, but eventually smiled softly as she said, “That sounds wonderful, Your Majesty.”
“Please . . . won't you join me on my bed?” he requested as he pulled her onto the bed. She does not resist. In fact to Shadow's surprise, she jumped up and playfully nipped at his ear. Shadow moved back several inches and held out a paw. Shadow looked into her eyes and could see fear and pain. He concluded she was only trying to play because she was seeking approval. She must be so scared and confused about what she did wrong. She wouldn't understand. It was nothing that she did. It was Shadow, the curse that he had meant that he would grow to outlive everyone around him. He thought that he had become numb to it, but a visit from an odd unicorn had awoken something in him. And now Shadow started feeling different about life. Shadow spoke softly. “Not for the usual service, mind you. Just be with me. Hold me . . . and talk with me.”
“It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty!” Miss Spice cheered brightly as her tail started to wag.
I don't know what the future holds, but I have decided one thing. Something tells me it is what Feather Wind would have told me as well.
What does the future hold? The answer is it depends what I want and what I earn. The future is whatever I make of it, and from now on . . . I'm forging my own destiny.
The End