//------------------------------// // Chapter Fourteen: The Moon Among Man // Story: Sins of the Ancients // by Tundara //------------------------------// Sins of the Ancients Chapter Fourteen: The Moon Among Man "The Moon shall walk amongst Man, And the world will know the touch of Divinity once more." -From the Prophecy of the Purple Wizard The grinding of wheels along rough stone and gravel roads had become like a second companion to Luna. The humans had insisted for the first few days that she ride in a closed carriage. It had taken the threat of turning the carriage into a pumpkin to get them to relent and let her walk. But they had refused to leave the infernal contraption behind, and still demanded that when approaching one of the many towns or villages that filled the long wide valley she hide in the carriage again. Those towns seemed to pop up over every hill or on every bend of the wide river the road followed. She tried to pay attention to the names of the settlements, but found it hard to particularly care. A week, she'd been cut off from her moon and stars for a week. The first night had been the worst. On instinct she had tried to raise the moon as the sun set, only to find it already high in the sky, and impossibly heavy. She'd sooner be able to lift all of Canterlot, the mountain it was perched on, and all the lands visible from the highest tower, than move this moon. Likewise, the stars refused her command and felt so incredibly distant, like they were mirages dancing in the heat of a desert. But there was still a connection, even if it wasn't the same. On the moon, for instance, she could sense life. Little pockets of energy milling about the celestial body's surface. When she mentioned this to the humans they laughed at her, or perhaps with her. She wasn't too certain whether they thought she was making a joke or not. Then there was her mane and tail. In Equestria, one of the most notable features of Luna and her sister was how their manes and tails billowed in an ethereal wind. Few knew the precise cause, and theories ranged from the absurd to the poetic. The simple truth was that it was the invisible breeze of the aether as it flowed through the Ley lines. But what on Equestria was a gentle breeze had become a howling storm. At least Luna's mane and tail had partially reverted to their foal-hood state. Dark, lustrous, and with little twinkling stars hidden in the strands, but nothing like how it normally appeared to be a tear in the air creating a window to the night sky. There was a second, and more important, effect caused by how raw and powerfully the Ley Lines flowed. The flow was so strong it was overcoming the natural resistance a waking mind and active body usually caused. Luna had felt completely refreshed, from a magical standpoint, only a few hours after stepping hoof through the portal. Usually a unicorn, and by extension an alicorn, needed to rest, though not necessarily sleep, to recover their magic. Luna felt like she could be in the middle of a marathon while casting spells without a care in the world towards her magical reserves. It was almost intoxicating how much raw Aether flowed through the air. But it did leave her a bit confused. Normally she'd have been able to sense the stored magic within another being. Dragons, Manticores, or Ponies, Luna could tell at a glance in Equestria how deep their magic ran. Not so here. She could sense connections to the flow of aether from those around her, but no pools of energy. It was like they had no mana of their own. From her escort Luna sensed several such connections. Some were from weapons they carried, others from their mounts, and four from the humans themselves. But no mana pools. Her only conclusion was that because there was so much power in the air and earth creatures of this world didn't require storing aether as mana for their spells. It was strange, and a little weird, to Luna. Then there were the humans, a curious group that reminded Luna of the years before her banishment. All members of a religious group of knights and priests; the Order of the Golden Chalice. Three of them were something called Paladins, heads of their order, the rest rank and file members. Luna had managed to get one of the Paladins, a man named Sir Pegelius the Crippled, so named for the maimed arm hung in a sling on his right side, to talk at length about his Order. They were originally from an Empire across the eastern mountains. When the Empire collapsed two hundred years earlier, the Order had been forced from their monastery citadels. Crossing over the mountains, they had been one of the first groups to swear an oath of allegiance to the great dragons. They had built a new citadel in a place known as the Protectorate of the Rivers, far to the north. From this central stronghold the acted as stewards to the Lords, attending to day to day affairs of the lands they owned. In the citadel they guarded the sacred Golden Chalice, among other artifacts they had recovered over the ages. Only a few of the knights had been present for Luna's arrival, the crowd she had first seen being almost the entirety of the villages garrison, a token force to keep a vigil on the three narrow passes that spread north, south, and east from the cliff on which the village perched. Unlike the garrison, the knights were all well equipped, each possessing a long sword, crossbow, chain cuirass and armour. Their tabards were white with gold lining, and the golden chalice their order was named after prominently displayed on the chest and shoulders. There was an exception. The wizard, Abtuan, was not affiliated with the knights. How the wizard knew the knights or why they worked together wasn't mentioned, though there was a comfortable familiarity between the wizard and the two younger Paladins. Luna learned very little about the wizard, where he came from, or his goals. He did learn a lot about her and Equestria, however. Every conversation was expertly turned towards the subject, and Luna found herself more than willing to reminisce. The nights passed in a pleasant blur of conversation, just as the days were filled with traveling. Curiously, they were not taking Luna north, but south. The first few days they were in a long narrow pass before entering the valley proper. The Kingdom of Tyme, as Luna was told. Somewhere ahead was their destination; Roxholm upon Tyme. Sighing, Luna shifted her wings a little and rolled her neck as the knights started setting up the camp for the night. Sitting down in the shade of a dying oak, Luna watched the knights going about their duties with a level of precision and order that would have made the Royal Guard envious. Very little was said as tents were erected, camp fires lit, and food began to cook. Horses were watered, and a watch set, all seamlessly. Abtuan sat down beside her, a lit pipe in his liver-spot covered hands, and a smile on his weathered face. "Good evening, Princess," the wizard said, the tip of his pipe glowing in the darkening light. His voice was soft, and somehow old and young at the same time with none of the deep rumble it had contained when he'd first spoken to her back in the mountains. A simple spell to create an impression on the soldiers who garrisoned the small village Luna had arrived in, she'd been told. Apparently, wizards had reputations they loved to keep alive. "Roxholm upon Tyme is only another half a day's ride away now. Just past mid-day and you should see the great walls and gates, if my suspicions are correct. Which they usually are." Luna just nodded. She was partly pre-occupied with the three mounts of the Paladins. All were massive, towering over the other horses and Luna. They only allowed the Paladin who rode them to touch them, the other knights never approaching within more than a few feet. But what really drew Luna's attention was the magic she felt whenever she was near one. It had a sticky, tangy feel to it that Luna just couldn't place. Their obvious intelligence also fascinated her, as did their lack of language. Their strong powerfully built muscles and short cropped tails and manes gave a strong military feel, and Luna knew her eyes often lingered on their flanks. "What will happen when we arrive?" Luna finally asked, shying away from the dark gaze of Clydesdale, the mount of the most junior Paladin, a blush creeping onto her face. Luna was thankful for her dark coat, and the approaching night, that hid the blush. "He is a handsome one," chuckled Abtuan, a ring of smoke puffing from his mouth. "I know not what thou imply," Luna snapped, turning her nose up into the air. "Besides, thou dids't not answer our question." "You know your dialect and accent change when you are nervous or embarrassed," the wizard continued to chuckle. "But you are right, I didn't answer the question." He grew silent again, occasionally letting out another puff of smoke. Luna let the silence linger for several minutes before snapping. "Well? What is the answer to my question?" Luna huffed, an exasperated sigh making her wings twitch as she continued. "Am I a trophy? A prisoner? A guest? You treat me well, are considerate, all things considered, and take pains to ensure my safety, but I cannot figure out why. What game are you and these knights playing?" "Ha-ha, what game indeed?" Smiling, the wizard began to re-fill his pipe. "To them, you are a Goddess. Which is amusing. Though the knights would believe it to be truth, regardless of facts to the contrary if they came forth. As for me, I don't know what to think yet. So, I am bringing you to a place where you should be safe." Again silence descended between them, Luna's eyes searching the stars. Privately she admitted that they had a certain clarity and sparkle that felt lacking in Canterlot. It was the light pollution, or rather, the lack there-of. "There is a prophecy, made during the birth of the great Empire of Sumanthor." The wizard's voice broke Luna out of her pleasant daze. Looking over towards the man she waited with all the patience of the eternal for him to continue. "Most only know these lines; 'The Purple Wizard comes. She will save us, or doom us all.' The full prophecy is much longer." The wizard paused for a moment, content to watch the stars beside the stranger from another world, before he resumed speaking in a slow and distant voice. "'She will be preceded by three signs. The gilded throne will fall to he who is covered in crimson. Dragons and Man will make peace, and in brotherhood will they live. The Moon shall walk amongst Man, and the world will know the touch of Divinity once more'." Luna frowned, her wings ruffling a little at the last sign. It was obvious the humans believed it related to her, but it wasn't entirely accurate. She wasn't the moon, Luna just controlled and was connected to it. Or she did on Equestria. Sure, she could look down on Equestria at night as if the moon was her body and the stars her eyes, but she wasn't actually the moon. "There is more, much more, to the prophecy. It's hundreds of pages long. It goes into great detail about the Purple Wizard, and her deeds. For instance, she will have three teachers; The Goddess, the Dragon, and Time. She will confront madness three times; first will be the Nightmare, second is the Herald of Chaos, and finally herself. She will first be recognised by the sign of six stars, and her first task will be the birth of the Lost Dragon. She will travel with five companions, and they will be the Farmer who speaks not a lie, the Maiden who is merciful to all, the Guardian who never abandons their post, the Exile far from home who carries laughter in the heart, and the Lady who gives of herself without question." "You speak of the Elements of Harmony," Luna chuckled, giving her head a slow shake. "Hmm? Am I?" "Aye. The Nightmare was myself, trapped in madness and rage. Twilight Sparkle and her friends used a set of artefacts to cure me almost two years ago." "So, this Twilight Sparkle, she is the Purple Wizard?" "She fits much of what you describe, except, to my knowledge she only ever has had one teacher; my sister." "Your sister, whom is a Goddess herself?" "Uh, n-no, we are not, well, I suppose we are, but..." Abtuan laughed, a soft gentle noise that made his eyes twinkle. "So, the Moon walks among Man, and denies her own place in the universe." Letting out a little huff, Luna didn't dignify the comment with a reply. The wizards teasing was hitting a little too close to the truth. "It is interesting times in which we live. Then again, times are always interesting and rarely dull or peaceful." Pausing to take a long breath of his pipe, the wizard continued. "The reason so many make such a fuss about this particular set of prophecies is the ending. The Purple Wizard has a choice, a true choice. No other prophecy speaks of the subjects having a choice, they merely outline what will happen," Abtuan explained when he noticed Luna's questioning look. "That is not so unusual in Equestria. Many of the prophecies made by Perfect Sight in the second era have many possible resolutions." "Not so here. Many have tried through the ages to fight prophecy, only to rush headlong into completing the very thing they sought to avoid." "Hmm, I may know why." Luna related quickly her conversation with April about seeing the future. At the end the wizard just nodded. "We know as much. Seers and spirits can't be trusted. It is why we wizards usually avoid them." "So, you are bringing me to Roxholm upon Tyme because of this prophecy?" "In part. I am bringing you to Roxholm upon Tyme because it is where one of the signs of the prophecy is said to take place. 'Upon the great grey river, two towers rise. She of Purple, She of the Stars and Magic, stands against the predations of the Alabaster. A war of two, the death of one, North and South divided. The Moon heralds her arrival. The Purple Wizard comes. She will save us, or doom us all. The Sins repeated underneath Harvest Moon. Doors open, skies burn, fields turn fallow, the city on the mountain hangs on the knife's edge. The choice will be made. The Purple Wizard comes. She will save us, or doom us all.'" "A grim prophecy indeed," Luna murmured. "But I do not see how you believe it is in Roxholm that this prophecy takes place." "Ah, as to that, an old euphemism for the passage of time is 'the grey river'. As for the towers, I suspect the first to be the Arcanum, home to my order of wizards, and the other is the White Tower, ruled by the Duke Kevin Rutland. At least, that is my belief. There are many who disagree. Some think the two towers could refer to the peaks of the Empire on the Suman river. Still others the waterfalls far to the east that lead between the Inner Seas and the Eastern Oceans." Shrugging, Abtuan slowly stood. "But it will be as it is meant to be. Right now, you are with me, and we are going to Roxholm upon Tyme. There, the Moon will herald the arrival of the Purple Wizard," he chuckled stretching out his neck. "I dislike being any pony's pawn," Luna sighed, flicking her ears back. "We are all pawns to Fate, my dear." Abtuan looked up towards the moon sailing across the sky. "The farmer in his field and the king on his throne, pawns all. It is how we carry ourselves that is important. Sadly I can't remain this night. There is much to accomplish still. I will see you in the morrow when you and the knights arrive." Bowing politely, the wizard departed towards his horse. Whispering a word of magic into the horse's ear, the wizard mounted and rode off into the night. Luna sighed and strode towards one of the cooking fires. A rabbit was turning on a spit, tended to by an older knight, his beard and hair a deep silver. He looked up and politely nodded towards the alicorn, but didn't say anything. Next to him sat a young woman, the youngest of the knights protecting Luna. In the crisp late-summer air she sat in only a thin undershirt, her armour close at hand and sword at her side. In her lap was a stringed instrument that she tuned with deft hands and an experts ear, head tilted to one side to catch the notes as she plucked and adjusted the strings. Satisfied with the instrument, the knight began playing a simple tune of rising and falling notes that conjured images of gentle rolling hills and little dells of clustered trees. When her voice joined the instrument it was high, sorrowful, and haunting. Eyes closed, the youngest knight became the song. The Moon among Man The gentle caress of Night Divinity comes, Divinity come From Sky so strong To Land so weak A Goddess from time Untouched by Sins The Moon among Man The gentle caress of Night Divinity cries, Divinity cries Protector of dreams Guide of wanderers lost Lover's blessed kiss Stolen under her eyes The Moon among Man The gentle caress of Night Divinity sighs, Divinity sighs She smites the wicked Soothes the weary Sword of silver light Shield of fire midnight The Moon among Man The gentle caress of Night Divinity arrives, Divinity arrives. Some point in the song, called by the woman's slow drifting voice, tears had come to Luna's eyes. Luna had heard many songs written in her name, especially in the last year and a half since her return from exile, but none had as much of an effect. True, most were of styles Luna was unfamiliar with, such as that accursed 'Pop' sung by the infernal Sapphire Shores. Clapping her hooves together, Luna broke the trance the woman had been under. Startled at having Luna for an audience, the knight's mouth fell open and she started to rapidly mumble apologies. "Bravo, beautiful, simply beautiful," Luna said cutting off the apologies, a rapid blush spreading across the woman's face at the alicorn's praise. "You could sing in opera or at the finest concert halls of Equestria." Still blushing, the young knight bowed her head and said, "I would deeply enjoy that, your Divine Majesty." 'And there drops the other horseshoe,' Luna glumly thought, watching as all the knights around the campfire averted their eyes or stared into the ground at their feet. Suddenly very weary, Luna stood and began to trot towards her large tent. As she left the ring of the campfire she heard a couple of the knights wondering what an 'Opera' or 'Concert Hall' could be. Before she could reach the seclusion of her tent, Luna was intercepted by the three Paladins. They all bowed deeply, as Luna had come to expect, and then took up a casual stance. "Sir Pegelius, Sir Worthington, Sir Fairhand," Luna greeted, letting a smile grace her lips as if she was holding court. As usual her eyes darted from their faces to the blades strapped to their hips, or back in the case of Sir Fairhand. All radiated the aura of powerful enchantments, just as the three men gave off the scent of magic. "Is something the matter?" "Yes, there is actually," Sir Pegelius said, good hand hooked on his belt in an easy loose stance. "For the past two days we've been followed by a group of Vulkirs. Now that the wizard has left, we suspect they will attempt an attack on the camp within the next half-hour or so. We're here to ask you to not interfere." Sir Worthington, the paladin with the interesting mustache that had killed the demon, smiled happily. For her part Luna just sighed and frowned. "I am more than capable of defending myself, you know." "That is not the point," said the youngest, gloved fingers running through his long golden hair. "We would not have you sully yourself dealing with this. Besides, it gives the others something to do and be proud about. They will tell their children and grandchildren of the time they raised their blades in defence of a Goddess." There was a cheeky playful light to the blonde paladin's eyes, one that spoke volumes about how, of all the knights present, he didn't truly consider Luna above man. Luna had caught Pegelius and Worthington saying prayers to her name. But not Fairhand. Grumbling to herself about how annoying the coddling was becoming, Luna nodded her agreement while privately admitting that the likely-hood of her staying out of a fight was slim to none. "Who are these 'Vulkirs'?" she decided to ask before the paladins left. Luna didn't receive an answer, which was almost surprising given how deferential the knights and paladins had been. It turned out she didn't need to wait long to find out. She smelled them long before even sensing the repugnant magic that trickled through the woods like slippery tentacles, the dunk pungent stench of rotting flesh mixed with peat. The knights drew their swords, the ring of steel covering the first clinking rattle of chains sliding across stone. Covering her nose with a hoof, Luna slowly stepped inside the ring of knights as the first shapes materialised out of the gloom of night. The Vulkirs were tall, slender creatures, each standing a head above the tallest knight. Brown tattered robes and clothes stuck to wet, brackish skin covered in open sores and pustules, while chains dangled from their wrists and ankles, jingling as they shuffled forward. Around their heads danced a halo of dripping hair, held as if the air was water, every shuffling step making the hair waver and twist. From open mouth poured a stream of thick bile and water around yellow teeth formed in the shape of needles. Soulless empty black eyes ignored the knights, burrowing in on Luna. "Sun and Moon," Luna whispered taking another step away from the obviously undead monsters. Now that she could see them Luna could observe the magic seeping from the Vulkir. It was anathema of the magic she had felt since her arrival, like oil and soap in a basin of water. Her mane billowed away from the Vulkir, caught in a rushing tide of magic. Sir Pegelius took a single step forward, sword in hand. Leveling the blade with the undead he said in a strong vibrant burr, "For our Lord, for our Brothers, for our Goddess." The tension was shattered by the rustling clatter of chains as the Vulkir broke into a charge, long shrill screeches filling the night. The knights stood their ground unflinching and unwavering in the face of the evil rushing towards them. Flaring her wings, Luna lit her horn with magic, and the screeches turned into hungry howls as the undead ran faster. There was an infinitesimal moment of silence as the undead reached the ring of knights, and then steel flashed under the gentle flicker of the moon. Limbs and head were rent from body, the decapitated undead exploding into a shower of thick loamy dirt and mud. Chains wrapped around a knight to Luna's left, dragging the man from the line of battle. The knights on either side jumped forward, blades digging and cutting into the attacking Volkir's throat and torso. Gurgling brackish fluids it pressed forward, only to be stopped as it's body was cleaved in twine by Fairhand's greatsword. "Mind the line!" he snapped at the knights, grabbed the downed knight with one hand, dragging him back towards safety, while swinging his sword wildly with the other. A gurgling scream drew Luna's attention to the left where a knight staggered back, clutching at where his throat had been, blood pouring forth over his fingers. Chains snaked out of the night, entwining the dying knight, and dragging him off into the dark where a final wet scream signaled his end. Through the hole a Vulkir leapt, it's soulless eyes hungry. The chains around its wrists snaked towards Luna with a dull clatter, only to be intercepted by a golden glowing blade. White teeth flashing in the evening light, Pegelius side stepped the lunging undead, and then in a single smooth twist removed its head. Luna stood dumbfounded as the Paladin rejoined the ring of knights. She had seen war before, more than she cared to admit, but not like this. Ponies fought completely differently than the knights. Only Earth Ponies would form a line of skirmish, and it was a well known fact Earth Ponies rarely, if ever, fought. It had always been the Pegasi Legions, supported by unicorn Battle-Mages and Dragoons, that fought the wars. The food produced by the Earth Ponies was usually more valuable than having them fight when they didn't possess a Pegasus' speed or a Unicorn's magic. Another dying scream broke Luna's trance. She could no longer stand idle while the knights bled and died for her, not when she could do something. Understanding the knights desire to want to protect her, Luna decided to use a very old spell. Horn barely glowing she lent the knights around her a tiny fraction of her power, increasing their strength and speed. Swords cut through the night like falling stars, the tide of the Undead turning. On and on it went, chains rattling, and the knight's fighting only making small grunts of effort here or there. At last, still screeching and howling, the vulkir's drew back into a wall of black smoke. The clinking of their chains could still be heard, the noise and amount growing as the minutes passed. "Sir Moody?" Pegelius asked, wiping his still glowing blade with a rag draped across his crippled arm. "Dead," Worthington said stepping forward. "So are Sir Richmond and Sir Hardy." The elder Paladin just nodded once, saying, "we'll bury them when we have the time. It looks like the Vulkir's master is about to show itself." Around the ring of knights the Vulkir slinked out of the obscuring wall of shadows, but didn't charge as they first had. Luna noted that their numbers seemed to have increased, despite the heavy losses already suffered. The knights were outnumbered almost three to one now. Wondering why the Undead didn't attack, Luna didn't release her spell. Then the Vulkir parted, and a short woman in white robes strode forth. In one hand she held a staff of bone while the fingers of the other brushed and caressed the nearest Vulkir, the Undead standing impassive under the touch. Tangled black hair lent an unkempt or slightly deranged look to her round face and small beady eyes. A thin bemused smile on her lips, the woman began walk slowly around the circle of knights. "Well, well, well, Father didn't say to expect Paladins. And three? This surely must be my lucky night. The Lady of Sorrows is surely smiling from her grave upon me," the woman cooed, leaning casually against a Vulkir. "I will make this simple. The Lady of the Night is coming with me. Either all of you die, or don't. The choice is yours. I really can't care one way or the other." Sir Worthington growled, leveling his sword at the woman. "Foul Necromancer, we'd sooner cut our own throats than-" "I agree," Luna said over the knight, her voice approaching the Royal Canterlot Voice in volume. The woman stopped leaning on the undead, her small eyes growing wide and suspicious, while the knights all threw Luna uncertain glances. Sir Pegelius turned, and standing so his back was to the woman, whispered in Luna's ear. "Your Divine Majesty, you cannot sully the sacrifices already made this night by given in to fear and despair. I know you worry for our lives, but they are ours to give, and we do so readily and with a glad heart. The Necromancers fear you and seek your destruction, of that I am certain, for you are the light in the night." "I do not fear her, fair Pegelius. After all, what harm can she possibly do to a Goddess?" Luna tried to sound cheeky or brave, but could hear the quaver in her voice. "Do you not think it odd that out of all the Gods and Goddesses, you alone we refer to in the present? Even a Goddess can die, Ma'am." Luna gulped, and memories of her foalhood, growing up among a herd of Earth Ponies wandering the edges of the sprawling Everfree Forest in the plains between the forest and the desolate Wastes to Equestria's south. Luna and Celestia had never known who their parents were, only that they were Alicorns, and that they were gone. Celestia, being the elder, remembered a bit more, but refused to speak on the issue. She had felt, though at the time not recognised, the magic of Alicorns seeping out of the Wastes. But she and the Earth Ponies had been too busy hiding and living in fear of the Spirit of Chaos, Discord, to investigate. It had been in the Wastes, however, before the great door to Tartarus, that Luna and Celestia had discovered the Elements of Harmony, and it had been there that Luna centuries later encountered the Nightmare. It had been many years, before her exile to the Moon, since Luna had really thought and tried to analyse the years and centuries before the founding of Equestria by the Three Great Herds. Almost all knowledge of the time before his arrival had been destroyed or corrupted by Discord, but a few ruins and ancient temples did exist that hinted at a past filled with many Alicorns. Luna herself had stood before a great broken statue in the swamps of an Alicorn mare with the mark of a quill dipped into an inkwell and wondered who the mare had been. Was she an Aunt? Was she Luna's mother? No one was left who knew. Suppressing a shudder at the memories, Luna nodded to the knight. "Challenge her to a Trial by Might. State the terms that if you win she'll leave. She'll agree because she is over confidant," whispered the Paladin, a note of relief in his gruff voice. "You'll have to select a champion however." "I will go with you," Luna said, and she was surprised that her voice no longer held any trace of doubt or fear, just a strength and calmness that would have made Celestia proud. "Should you win a Trial by Might. If you lose, you will leave." The knights all smiled at Luna's challenge, the woman just frowned and shrugged. "You challenge me to a Trial by Might? Oh, by Sorrow's black tears, this is amusing!" the woman gave a short laugh. "Naturally, I accept. How could I not? To be challenged by a Goddess. Now, to select my Champion. What to do, what to do, so many choices. Khorgal? No, they answer only to the Imprisoned One. Oh, how about a Burrow Wight? No, too common. Oh, I know just the thing!" Cackling the woman thrust her staff into the ground, a deep pulse of dark energy flowing through the air. Wincing, Luna rubbed her horn at the stinging tingle the magic left in its wake. A rumble echoed from within the wall of inky mist, followed by the grinding thuds of heavy feet. From out of the wall strode It towered above the Vulkir, a putrid collection of bones held together with sinuous black lines like rotting ivy. Wings of shadow and soot spread blocking out the little light granted by the moon. Claws and talons scratched the ground as the abomination walked, grass and plants withering in its passing. Above its head a long barbed tail spun and snapped at the air. The head was elongated and like a dragons, two pin-pricks of glowing red light for eyes, and a horns thrusting from chin, jaw, and brow. Skinless, a twisted black heart like a cluster of moldy brambles pulsed in its chest, visible to all. Dark magic fell from the creature stronger than the rest of the Vulkir combined. It almost felt like the unhallowed aether was trying to smother her. Luna gulped trotting backwards until she made contact with the knights behind her. "Behold, a Lythorme!" The woman threw her hand up gesturing to the abomination. "Now, which of you-" "I will be the Goddess' Champion!" Shouted a young vibrant voice beside Luna. "If she will have me." Luna didn't have to look to know who had requested to be her champion. Only one knights had the soft flowing voice that had brought Luna to tears earlier. The other knights had impassive looks as the young knight took a step out of the ring and kneeled before Luna. Even the Paladins' faces had become masks of stone. "You know the thing you must face?" Luna asked, hoping in vain that the young knight would come to her senses. "I do," there was not a trace of fear or doubt in her voice. "I trust that you will guide and protect me, your Divine Majesty." Gulping, Luna looked again to the Paladins', knowing that she'd get no further aid from them. She had been certain one of them would have volunteered to be the champion. They at least had magic of their own, in addition to their swords. The young knight had none, just her faith. And Luna knew how poor a shield faith could be. With a sigh, Luna nodded once slowly. "I accept you as my champion, uh," Luna's voice trailed off, a blush creeping under her coat as she failed to produce the knights name. She didn't know any of their names, despite traveling with them for over a week, except for the Paladins. Silently Luna kicked herself for not getting to know the knights as individuals and not some mass group of guards. "I am Sir Victoria River, Ma'am," "Then, arise, Sir Victoria River, and go as my Champion," Luna said, hoping her words were right. She had a general idea for these sorts of things, they always seem to have the same common threads, no matter the culture. It seemed to be right, or close enough at least. Sir River stood, drew her sword, and turned towards the Lythorme. She had only taken two steps when she was stopped by Sir Fairhand, the tall paladin laying a hand on her shoulder. "Take Bobotheeramel, he has tasted the foul ichor of a lythorme before," he said, holding his greatsword out hilt first. Sir River paused looking at the sword, then pushed it back with a smile. "He answers only to you, cousin, as it should be. Fear not, the Goddess is here and will keep me safe." Looking like he wanted to say more, Sir Fairhand stepped back, resting his sword on his shoulder. Sir River took a single breath, then stepped out of the ring formed by her fellow knights and faced the Lythorme. "Crush the life from her body and suck the marrow from her bones, my pet," hissed the woman flicking a dismissive wave towards the knight. Roaring , its voice like the ripping of steel sheets, the Lythorme charged, great clods of muddy earth tossed from its clawed toes. Black fire gathered in its gaping maw, dripping from between cracked teeth to sizzle on the ground. Lightning crackled through the undead wings like purple veins. A clawed hand rose into the air, and in a crash descended towards Sir River. Luna closed her eyes and subtly channelled her magic, lending her strength to the knight. More than ever she had to avoid detection. Power danced behind her closed lids filling her heart with dancing sparks that grabbed Sir River by the ankles and coiled up her legs, through her arms, and into her sword. Silver light flashed from the blade as it intercepted the talons, a crack of thunder knocking the onlookers back a step. Pirouetting, Sir River brought the still glowing blade down on the Lythorme's back, slicing through the black veins holding the undead abomination together with a second crack of thunder. Tail snapping down, Luna barely tugged Sir River back in time, the thick barb crushing stone hidden under the layer of mud. Jaws snapped, Sir River leaping to her left. Rolling to her feet she just managed to deflect onrushing talons, thin tears appearing through the midriff of her tabard. A second roar ripping the night, the Lythorme raised itself high, wings spreading wider still. The light in its eyes glowed brighter, and its jaw opened. Black fire snarled towards Sir River, and the knights gathered behind her. Horn glowing bright, Luna quickly threw up a sapphire shell of magic around herself and the knights, but there was nothing she could do for Sir River without tipping her hoof. Even through the shield Luna could feel the intensity of the unholy flames make the tips of the hair in her coat curl. The flames ended with a triumphant bellow, a sound like cinderblocks being dragged down a cobblestone road. The black fire coiled about its body, sucking light and joy from the night. Kneeling before the Lythorme, sword still glowing bright as the full moon, was Sir River, the ground around her unharmed by the flames. "I am protected by the Moon," Sir River declared, slowly rising before the undead abomination. "You're unholy magic will always fail you." Snorting a thin plume of ash, the Lythorme raised an arm into the air. Lightning crackled from its talons twisting around a plume of the black fire to create a sword. From its other hand emerged a barbed mace, oily smoke drifting from the weapon's head. The night trembled under the renewed roar, and the ground quacked as the mace smashed into the earth where Sir River had stood but moments before. Ducking, weaving, and parrying, Sir River was driven back as blow after blow tore down towards her. Tail darting between the twin weapons, the Lythorme pressed the knight. Sweat trickled down Luna's brow from the effort of lending her magic while concealing her spell. Darting forward, Sir River delivered a vicious slash across the undead boney face. Undeterred by the blow, the Lythorme continued to press forward. Sparks flew high with every blow parried, creating a tiny shower of miniature stars. Sir River was beginning to slow, her own body growing exhausted from the long day of travel followed by battle. Luna poured more magic towards the woman, lending as much as she could give. Lightning coated fire slashed across Sir River's face, stealing the light from her left eye, and tossing her onto the muddy ground. Refusing to scream or give any indication of pain she looked up with her remaining eye as the Lythorme raised both its weapons for a final blow. In a quick motion, Sir River reversed the grip on her sword, and shouting Luna's name hurled the blade into the abomination's chest. Thunder and howling wind swept through the ruined camp as the Lythorme staggered back. Light glowed from its chest, tears and cracks ripping through the shrivelled heart in its chest, a heart split by Sir Rivers blade. Thick black ichor poured from the Lythorme's mouth and eyes as the lightning and smoke of its wings guttered and died. The light continued to grow, and with an almighty crack like a thousand bolts of lightning the Lythorme shattered. Collapsing onto her back, Sir River gave a weak triumphant laugh. The woman controlling the undead stood, face impassive, turned, and disappeared into the night. The remaining Vulkir stood watching for a moment more before following their mistress.