Dark was in the air, thinking. Zehara had told him what she had planned to do, and it sounded pretty good.
Her plan had the area cleared of grass for about thirty feet beyond the zebra encampment. A little into that was a ditch, with a high dirt side. Wooden stakes go into the high dirt side, and then a little beyond it, where they couldn’t be seen from the far side. Water would be ready in buckets nearby, just in case something or somepony was aflame and needed to be quickly doused.
The zebra had a plant of some sort that was heat resistant; it was not proof against the blazing death, but it would ensure that any stray blasts of fire were unlikely to seriously harm somepony, and ensure that manes and tails wouldn’t catch fire.
That was all great stuff to hear.
Then Zehara had told him she had half the warriors she wanted, and had only managed to get the grass cleared and the ditch dug. Some stakes were set up; some.
And the flame retardant was running low, hence the water buckets.
Otherwise, the spears were of low quality; made of copper at best, and flint otherwise. Their wood was reinforced, to help it endure the flames for a little longer than normal, and the plan was to try to stab the lioness when she wasn't moving much.
Which meant when she was killing somepony.
Since she tended to move to a new target in a couple of seconds at the longest, wild strikes were the only real option. The warriors were scattered, to minimize the danger of the flames, and do their best to stab when the lioness grabbed whoever was next to them.
Which had Dark imagining a line of zebra all stabbing each other in turn as a burning lion jumped from one to the next like the most darkly hilarious comedy sketch ever.
Zehara’s biggest worry was that, if her warriors broke, it would turn into a panic and then everypony was dead. A worry not much helped by the night wind, which was blowing cut grass back into the area; it wouldn’t burn long, but it would burn.
It was worrisome stuff, even with Princess Luna. He didn’t doubt his princess could defeat the blazing death, but Luna would do her best to spare any zebra or pony.
Which may mean she wouldn’t get to attack at all until the blazing death had really cut down on the number of possible victims.
He was outside, trying to guess what would be most effective; how he could arrange his men so as to minimize casualties, and to get the blazing death in Luna’s aim as soon as possible.
It seemed impossible.
“Captain.”
He turned as Luna flew near him and saluted. “My Princess.”
“How goes preparation?” she asked him.
“…Poorly, I’m afraid.” He sighed. “I can’t get a good idea where the blazing death will come from, the zebra fortifications are barely fit to hold off an angry pig, and every other sentence starts with ‘if it goes well’.”
Luna nodded, frowning a little. “We see. Well, we bring thee bad news, captain. The death is not alone. We feel certain that she comes with many lions besides herself.”
“… Princess, I’m starting to think this might end up being a massacre.”
“Then allow us, captain.” Luna said. As Dark turned to her, she began, “Have half the troop scatter with the zebra, flying overhead. If at all possible, they are to strike the death away from her chosen target with a single hit before retreating before retaliation can occur. The strongest fliers are to manage the smoke that may occur and attempt to combat the flames. During the battle, we shall keep the zebra from panicking, and take any opportunity we see to strike. We feel that the blazing death may only be ended by our power; all attacks against it are to stun it and then scatter so as to allow us a chance.”
“We will undoubtably see losses amongst the zebra.” she continued. “We find this acceptable, as they are warriors given to defend their home, ready to perish in the defense of their land, but all efforts should be made to ensure that as few of them perish as possible. Under no circumstances is one of ours to sacrifice themselves for a zebra; we will require all hooves to pin down the blazing death at some point, and any loss on our part will make that task more difficult.”
“We feel the battle shall begin come the darkest of night.” Luna finished. “We doubt the blazing death will have patience enough to allow the morning to dawn, and lions find the dark easy hunting. Our preparations shall be to illuminate the camp better, so that no gloom is there for a lion to hide within.”
Dark saluted again. Then he said, “Perhaps we could prevent lion attacks against the zebra, my Princess?”
“Explain, captain.” Luna said.
“Our armor should be more than proof against claws or teeth, my Princess.” Dark told her. “If we were to intercept a lion’s pounce, we could momentarily prevent it from harming somepony, and allow the zebra a great chance to kill it at the same time. It isn’t perfectly safe, but I don’t see one of us getting seriously hurt, and we are sure to save some zebra in the process.”
“An excellent idea, captain.” Luna said, approving. “We find it most agreeable.”
“Can’t let the troop get lazy.” Dark said, chuckling a little.
“See it done, captain.” Luna said. “And see to it that the zebra know of our plans as well; ensure their full cooperation with our force.”
“I will, my Princess!” he said, saluting her a final time. “The wisdom of the moon to guide us this dark night!”
Luna smiled as he left.
“We art proud of thee, our captain, Dark Flight.” she whispered, ascending once more to look out over the darkening savanna as Dark relayed her orders.
It was rather to Dark’s relief that the zebra seemed to have already planned for a night fight. It would have been a lot harder if most of them had gone to sleep, but it seemed they were all still awake and intent on continuing to be so.
A fair few of them were fairly worn, having been on constant guard the past few days, but Zehara was out and currently whipping them into shape, he noticed.
She was a striking zebra, he felt. Lots of sides to her.
Her voice cracked like a whip right now, but she had spoken as soft and gentle as a flowing stream when she had told him about mangos. And she was in charge here, trying to organize everything and having to do with half of what she felt necessary. She had quite the will to keep being strong in the face of that, and quite the wit she had shown him when they had talked earlier.
And though she was strong minded, she wasn't stubborn or hard headed. When he had shown he understood the zebra’s fight, she had accepted it and apologized immediately, when many, Dark felt, would not have.
She’d given him that mango as well.
She turned, and saw him, Dark hesitating as she looked up at him. After a moment, he flew down to her, and asked, “How goes preparations?”
“As well as can be expected.” Zehara told him. “There is nothing else that can be done, now.” Dark nodded, and Zehara asked, “And your own?”
“…Done.” Dark said.
“…Then, perhaps we can speak more?” Zehara asked, and Dark smiled.
“I think so.” He said, and liked how Zehara smiled back.
“I’ve another mango in my home.” She told him, walking past, which only got Dark excited. “We have some time, I know; the lions will not hunt until some time after the last sight of the sun has passed.”
Dark followed her.
“I have been wondering about your princesses.” Zehara said as the pair reentered her home.
“What about them?”
“Why did they come?” Zehara asked, Dark hesitating. She settled down next to the rock, and clarified, “Did they descend from the skies to meet a threat the same or worse as the blazing death?”
“I… don’t know.” Dark said, thinking as he settled down as well. “They’ve been the princesses for a really long time.”
“How long?”
“At least two thousand years, I think.” Dark said, and Zehara blinked.
“…Truly, ponies are blessed.” She murmured. “To have twin goddesses grace them for so long. I would imagine Equestria a paradise of verdant grass and plentiful, gentle rain, a land that never knows hunger nor frailness, if it be their claimed home.”
Dark hesitated. The way Zehara said it sounded odd, but at the same time, mostly correct. But he did his best to ignore that, and instead asked, “…Are there… other goddesses?”, wondering if the zebra had an alicorn equivalent or something.
“Of a sort.” Zehara answered. “But unlike you, we do not have names for them.”
“Oh?”
“Here, the Deharan is ancient; older than any zebra knows, and its water never leaves. It is ‘home of water’, and remember, I told you that we give the juice of fruit to its waters, so that the rain might come again?”
Dark nodded, and Zehara told him, “The water of the oasis is not what we beseech with those gifts, captain. We know not her name, but we know that, living in the water, there is a goddess of the same. Some zebra are so reverent that they dare not step upon the grass of the Deharan.”
“I am water-speaker, but that is not a title as your own may be.” She continued. “My requests were heard more readily than others, and it was determined that I was chosen by the waters to be their speaker; thus, I home here, by the Deharan, to guide the zebra who come to request rain.”
“…Does it always work?” he asked.
“Always, no.” Zehara told him. “But the water does appear to hold my voice in high regard; my requests are not often refused. I feel that is because I request rarely; like a parent, even a goddess surely grows tired of hearing constant requests, but delights to have one that asks only when needed, and not so often.”
Dark again hesitated, finding that sort of familiar; Luna got fatigued if ponies constantly called her to deal with things they could handle themselves, though she never refused a call for help.
“Earlier, you told me of batponies.” Zehara said after a moment as Dark wondered, catching his attention again. “How other ponies all hate them, yes?”
“…More or less.”
“I have also noticed that all the chosen of your princess are batponies.” Zehara said. “Why is that so?”
Dark paused, and then said, “Because we aren’t afraid of her.”
“Why would other ponies be afraid?”
“…It’s… complicated.” Dark said, and Zehara noted the clear tension in him. “Princess Luna is… she’s the alicorn of night, like her sister, princess Celestia, is the alicorn of the day.”
Zehara nodded, and waited until Dark continued, “It’s princess Luna that goes out to defend ponies, most often. Like now, when some monster or threat come out, it’s her that goes out to end it.”
“A warrior god… princess?” Zehara asked, correcting herself.
“Something like that.”
“…Amongst zebra, warriors are respected. Is that not true amongst pony?”
“…Not really.” Dark sighed. “Princess Luna… she… sometimes scares ponies when they see her fighting.”
“Oh?”
“Remember how I said she never refuses a call for help?” Dark asked, and Zehara nodded. “Well, part of what Luna saves ponies from are nightmares; bad dreams. But there’s so many nightmares, she can’t often spare the time to do much more than defeat it and move on.”
“I can imagine…” Zehara murmured, shocked.
“And… well, batponies are sometimes said to be ‘of the night’, if that helps you understand better.”
“…Ponies cannot be so thoughtless.”
“Well, they are, sometimes.” Dark bluntly sighed. “Some ponies see Luna and see the night; when they have nightmares, when the monsters like to come out. Lots of ponies are afraid of the dark; and because of that, they are afraid of Luna too, and her fighting to help them somehow only makes it worse. Like they know what she can do and somehow think she might do it to them.”
“…And batponies?” Zehara asked, watching Dark, and noting his clear tension, with notes of anger mostly hidden.
“…We know better.” Dark said. “Other ponies remember the nightmare; we remember our savior. They are afraid of the dark; we aren’t. They aren’t fighters; we are.”
“And thus, she chooses you?”
“If anypony else ever came to her, she’d happily accept them.” Dark snapped. “But nopony else ever does; in the ten years I’ve been a part of her guard, it’s always just been us: the batponies.”
“…Truly, you are loyal.” Zehara said, Dark hesitating. “Your anger is for her, and not yourself.”
“…” Dark sighed. “…She does her best, you know. She speaks softly, she declares her intention, she never, ever lies, and she never leaves anypony behind. But it never works. Ever. It seems each year, more ponies startle when they see her, more ponies try to avoid her, even as they ask for her help. This time around, I actually found a pinned note on the door, telling her about your blazing death, instead of an actual pony requesting help. It’s sickening.”
“…I too, would be enraged, if a zebra would be so dismissive of the Deharan.” Zehara slowly said. “But I feel that your own anger is the greater, for you know her name, see her face, and know her actions, where I but know the water goddess’ grace.”
Dark only watched her as she gently took another mango from the bowl, and began preparing it.
“…When I was but a filly, I feared the night.” Zehara told him as she prepared the fruit, Dark watching her do so intently. “My tribe lived close to a lion den, and it was often that the day would find a warrior hurt, or taken.”
“Why would you stay close?” Dark asked, unable to take his eyes off the fruit, and watching its juices dripping.
“We were proud.” Zehra told him. “The strongest tribe, the largest tribe. The land there was prosperous, but always avoided because of the lions, until we had come to make it our own, in the face of the predator. We dared the lions, and though they struck, they did not break us.”
She finished the fruit, and passed Dark the same, who took it carefully, trying to hide eagerness. As he ate, delighting again in the sweet fruit, she continued, “My father commanded the warriors, and time and time again, no lion ever took those not given to defend the tribe. Until, one day, it happened.”
“A mother and colt were out, gathering grass, when a young lioness, small enough to hide when a grown one would be seen, came and took the child. He was gone in seconds, the lioness fleeing with him screaming in her jaws back to her home.”
Dark startled.
“It was enough, the tribe decided. For how long would we tolerate the lions, when we were the strongest, when we were the most numerous? So, it was decided; we would destroy the lion den. My father mustered the warriors together, and they went in tight groups, wielding spears and shields made of thick wood, towards the tall rocks.”
“A good choice.” Dark remarked, a little shaken still, but finding that idea a good one.
“It was.” Zehara said. “Every lion was killed then, and they discovered what was left of the colt who had been taken; bones, but bones to have to sooth a wounded mother’s heart. The sole one injured was my own father; his leg attacked by a lion cub. He kept the leg, but limped ever since.”
“…You, you said that your family was burned by the blazing death, didn’t you?” Dark asked, and she nodded. “W, when did that happen?”
“Eight years later.” Zehra told him. “When we had long since dominated that land and come to be known amongst the whole of the savanna; the sole tribe that never wandered. We were proud, and strong, and many; but a few days before she came, my father grew nervous. He said he felt something was coming, and seemed to doubt that anything could be done. He warned me that, if anything happened to him, I had to run as fast as I could, and not look back.”
“We were the first to meet the blazing death; my father woke that morning from a nightmare, and it came true. We all heard screaming, and saw one of us returning from gathering water, panicked, a lioness chasing him. The warriors ran to help, but they were met by a wave of fire.”
“In an instant, the blazing death had broken our warriors; I saw her bite my father’s legs, and leave him, crippled on the ground as she killed the rest in moments. Shocked, we all stared, unable to comprehend what we were seeing, and watched her run a blazing trail around us all. And then she came, and began to slaughter, and we were trapped by the raging flames she had left. My mother threw herself in front of me, and saved me from burning alive, dying in my place.”
“I ran to my father, and he told me to run, far, and fast, and not to look back. His gaze showed me where the fire was weakest, and I fled through it, even as I heard the screams behind me. I escaped that day, burned, but alive.”
“The rest of my tribe died that day, killed to the very last by the blazing death.” Zehara finished. “That day, I ceased fearing the night, and instead, began to fear the fire I had seen destroy my tribe.”
Dark only gaped, stunned. “…W, what then?” he asked, shaking himself. “Where did you go?”
“I ran to the nearest tribe I knew, and I warned them about the blazing death.” Zehara told him. “They did not believe me, not until the flames came for them as well. Time and time again, I have run, and time and time again, I have seen the blazing death claim yet more zebra.”
“When I finally came to the Deharan a half-year ago, I thought my nightmare was over, at least until survivors began to come here, to the home of water. I thought to use my position and this place to unite the zebra, and kill the blazing death, but I did not receive what I needed. And I fear I know why.”
“…Why?” Dark asked as Zehra didn’t continue, looking down.
“…The fire consumed all my tribe.” Zehra said. “All save me; and ever since, the fire has always come for me again. The blazing death has never been far behind me, and now, the flames come even to here, the home of water.”
“And I fear they come for me.” Zehra said, taking a slightly shuddering breath, keeping her head down. “Perhaps the tribes did not listen because it is fated that I am to be taken by the flames that took my family and tribe.”
“Th, that can’t be true.” Dark said. “And, and it won’t be. We’re here; princess Luna is here.” he added, heading to her, worried.
Zehara looked at him, and he saw the odd fear in her eyes; the odd acceptance of the same.
“…Trust in the princess.” Dark told her. “She’ll save you; she’ll save everypony.”
“…And if the goddess of the Deharan awaits my ashes, to bring the rain back?” Zehara asked.
“Then Princess Luna will make her see reason.” He said, and she gained a small smile.
“…Perhaps ponies fear the night, and those of it.” Zehara softly said. “But I have found peace in the darkness. And now, I find peace, both in your princess, and now in you… ‘of the night’, suits you quite well, Dark Flight.”
Dark blinked, before looking a little away, blushing a little. It was strange to hear what had always been an insult redone as compliment, but he liked it. A lot.
“…I will have faith in the night.” Zehra told him, reaching out to hold his hoof, making Dark startle a little, but he didn’t pull away. “And now, I ask you in particular:”
“Please, spare us the flames.”
“…I will.” He told her, shifting to grab her hoof in turn. “On the moon, I swear that not even a single ember will touch you, Zehara.”
Zehara smiled. She gently pulled at Dark’s hoof, and he didn’t resist.
Casca’s tale
I found three zebra by the lake; the young males, gathering water. They laughed with one another suggesting stupid things that would explain the remnants that the strength had left behind.
Seeing them, my hate flashed ever hotter, and, suddenly, the grass at my sides started burning. It crackled, and they stopped, and looked.
I pounced at the nearest, seeing his shocked face, even as flames overtook me. I tore him apart, even as he burned, and once he was dead under me, I looked at the other two, frozen in shock, as flames covered me.
I charged, and one dove into the lake, while the other ran around it. I leapt into the lake after that one, and the water hissed around me as I grabbed him, and killed him. I dragged him out, and spotted the other’s trail, leading away, as my flames dimmed and doused.
I could, easily, chase and catch him, but I held myself back, and ate what I could of the prey I had. Then I began following him, sure that he would lead me right to more zebra. He left a clear trail, and I even found him, collapsed in the grass, before too long. I had to scare him to keep going, and before too long, he finally started screaming for help as we came to the end of the tall grass.
I saw a huge herd of zebra as I came out with him, and spotted them coming towards me, ready to fight. But I didn’t care.
The one in the lead had an old, scarred leg, and I recognized him.
I screamed, feeling as if my anger was impossible to even express, and a wave of fire came from me and washed over them. A second later, and I was amongst their burning forms, slashing and biting in a frenzy of utter hate. But the one with the leg, I didn’t kill then.
Instead, I crushed his legs in my jaws, and then ran as fast as I could around the herd, ringing them in my fire. Once that was done, I came in, and began killing them. They tried to run, but they didn’t dare the fire I had set, even if I was coming for them. Zebra after zebra, I killed and killed and killed, until, finally, I could find no more living zebra.
Then I went back to the one I had crippled, intent on finishing it, and hesitated. He was smiling. And I couldn’t stand it.
So I broke the oldest tradition, and I spoke to him.
“W, what?” Sion asked, shocked. “You, you spoke to the prey?”
“A zebra lay dying amongst my flames had a secret.” Casa said, shrugging. “I couldn’t stand it.”
“…What did you say?”
“I was curious. So I asked: Why are you smiling?”
He startled, and stared at me in shock. Then he chuckled, and spoke, asking me, “You speak, thing of fire and hate?”
“I do.” I told him. “Why do you smile?” I asked again.
“Because it is done.” He told me. “It is over.”
I understood what he meant, and hissed. I placed my claws on his neck, and hated that he didn’t flinch, even when I drew blood. He simply watched me, not the faintest indication of fear in his eyes or body.
“I have not even begun to hunt.” I told him. “The sins of zebra will be paid for by their blood.”
He blinked, and then he whispered, “You are of that den. The one we killed.”
I hesitated, wondering and he continued, telling me, “I knew this would come. I’d known it for days, but perhaps ever since then, I’d always known that this would come. And now, here you are: the vengeance of the cycle we tried to break.”
“…What?”
“We thought that we were more. That we were strong enough to decide our fates. We broke the tradition, and we tried to subdue the cycle. We killed the lions, and felt ourself strong, and safe, but you have come, to remind us of humility, and take the price we incurred in our arrogance. You are the weapon of the cycle.”
“I am so much more!” I roared at him, angry. “I am the death of all zebra, not just your herd! You lie broken and burned under me, and you dare to say you know what I am!”
He laughed. He actually laughed, and I stopped, shocked. Then he smiled at me.
“It’s done. The sin is paid for. With our lives and blood, it has been set right. The cycle is complete; we killed the lion, acting outside what we were. You then killed us, filled with flames outside of what you are. It is done, and now, you have no more purpose; look, even now, the fires fade, and you turn to ashes.”
He was right. I felt nothing, but I saw myself starting to blacken, starting to burn away. I was growing tired, my hate was dimming along with the fires on me.
“So I die, knowing it is done.” He said happily. “I die seeing my child escape. I die knowing that the cycle is complete once again, and all is right once more.”
“This, this is not done!” I screamed, angry, but I could not make it stop. “I am not done!”
“But you are.” He murmured. “So the cycle decrees. Its wrath is spent, its tools ready to be set aside. Rage, calm, scream, cry, it does not matter. It is done, and we die together.”
I stared at him, smoldering. For a few seconds, I felt… complete. I remembered my den, I remembered my family, and for just a moment I felt… that I had avenged them.
But I somehow denied that, and forced myself to anger. “No…no, no, no!” I yelled, my flames starting to grow again, my form starting to recover. “I am not done! Not until I see each and every last zebra dead!” I yelled at him. “My home is worth more than your herd! My family is worth more than your herd!”
He watched my rage with sad eyes. I think that… he understood me, somehow. But as my flames grew stronger, and my body recovered, sorrow turned to worry.
“Learn the lesson you taught, burning lioness.” He said. “To break the cycle is to invite its wrath. Such was true for us… so too, is it true for you. Let this end, let it finish, I beg of you. For your sake, for the sake of lions, stop now, and let it end, before you begin a new cycle! Will you see lion destroyed as we have been? Surely, you have care in you yet…”
I watched him as he begged me to stop. He was afraid, but not of me.
He feared for me.
And I didn’t understand.
“I, I might help bring you to peace, in these final moments.” He said, smiling at me, seeing me watching him calmly. “Lion and zebra, we may lie together, and together, pass into the verdant fields beyond.”
“…I hate you.” I told him, but I lacked the fire from before. Somehow, right then, I didn’t really hate him. My hate had died, but I held its corpse with all I had, and struggled to reignite it.
“I know.” he told me. “Please, stay here. Let it end, please. You do not deserve the fate you brought upon us, not yet. But if you continue to burn, you will one day face judgement, and nothing will stop it. Calm your heart, let yourself turn to ashes. You will feed the land, as we all do. One day, this will come again, and the zebra will run in these grasses and the lion will hunt them. But it will never come to be, if you do not let it end.”
“…I hated you. For so long… It’s all I am.” I whispered, closing my eyes, seeing my reasons again. They didn’t seem to matter anymore. I couldn’t feel angry about them, anymore.
“Feel it.” he told me. “Your hate is gone now, is it not? The cycle closes, and you have a chance to accept it, and find peace now.”
“…I will prove you wrong.” I told him, forcing myself to hate anew. Fighting to enrage myself again, remembering my family’s deaths, how I ate rats fat on lion, how the strength had left me.
And my flames slowly ceased growing dimmer.
“Our deaths and your fire prove me right.”
“I will not accept it. Your ‘cycle’ has no hold on me.” I told him, my hate slowly reviving; different than it first started.
I was now in control of it.
“Arrogance led to our fall, and it will surely lead to your own…”
“I will shatter your ‘cycle’.” I told him. “I will deny nature, and end the zebra. I deny this end. I deny this path. I will continue to burn, and I will continue to hunt, until not a single zebra remains.”
“…”
“No more words?” I asked, prideful, grinning. I ceased doing so as he whispered his final words.
“The last beats of my heart are to my daughter, safe, far from here. The last tremble of my soul is given to you, to help you find peace. The last thoughts of my mind are to my wife. And my last action will be to either sing the last song for you… or weep as you leave, to someday find the cycle’s wrath.”
I listened to him, frowning. Then I sat taller, and my flames rose higher with me.
I roared into the air, screaming my victory over his peaceful end, and my flames roared around me.
And I found him weeping, and I did not understand.
“…The burning lioness is born.” I whispered to him, and I killed him. Snapping his neck in an instant. I couldn’t stand the idea of letting him suffer any longer, for some reason.
With a thought, my flames doused, and I ate my fill of the many that I’d killed. Then I left, following the trail of the one who’d gotten away, and didn’t take a single glance back.
I was sure I could win. Sure that I could be the end of all zebra. I was strong, I was fast, and I had flames at my command. I swore I would break the cycle he had told me about, and went, sure and proud.
Casca fell silent then, and Sion only watched, waiting for her to continue, the lioness sad.
“…If only I had listened to him, then.” She whispered, looking at the ground, her head placed on her paws. “I would have died in pace, in satisfaction. But I was too proud to let it end so easily.”
“And now, I go to my judgement, just as he promised I would. And I must, to ensure that it does not find the dens, but all those who follow me walk to their deaths with me.”
Sion watched, wanting to say something, but unable to find anything to say. After a moment, Casca looked at him, and he flinched at the sorrow in her eyes.
“…You must tell the rest of this.” She told him. “Tell them of the cycle. Warn them from the path I have chosen, lest they too, face the cycle’s wrath.”
“I… I will, Casca.”
Casca nodded, and then looked out toward the distant oasis, the night just begun.
“…I never did hear their ‘last song’.” She murmured. “And now, I never will. A life of fire and hate leads to nothing but ashes, and regrets.”
“And my life was nothing, save fire and hate.”