//------------------------------//
// Fight for The Crystal: Part 8 
// Story: The Cursed Prodigy and The Three Special-Grades 
// by I Ate Appiness 
//------------------------------//


The day after the fall of Cloudsdale


The gentle breeze rustled through the makeshift camp, swaying the grass that stretched lazily toward the horizon. The tent's entrance housing Rainbow Dash and the other wounded ponies fluttered open, revealing the glum faces of the young six. Smolder kicked a pebble as she exited the tent, followed by the rest of her friends.

"Professor Rainbow's really down in the dumps, huh." 

"Her reaction is justified, Smolder. Losing..." Ocellus paused awkwardly, taking a moment to catch herself before continuing. "Her... family..."

Silverstream quickly noticed the heavy atmosphere settling over her friends, Ocellus, Gallus, and Smolder, looking down onto the ground as if it were the most exciting thing happening all day. None of them were able to continue the flow of conversation. The hippogriff looked over to the distance, seeing guards and some recovered refugees leaving the cafeteria with neither a happy nor sad expression. An idea hit her as she broke the silence.

"Hey, how about some lunch? Maybe some food will help cheer Rainbow up after our fill? I'm sure she could use a hot meal and some good company."

"Sounds great," Gallus replied, stretching a wing. "I'm starving."

"Yona hopes she's feeling better..."

As the five began their trek towards the bustling cafeteria tents, Sandbar stood rooted in place, his gaze fixed on a distant point. His brow furrowed in deep thought, further accentuating the heavy bags under his eyes and the network of red veins webbing out from the corners. The fur on his face was dull, matted, and sticking out at irregular intervals as well, further adding to his already dishevelled look and making it more pathetic.

"Sandbar not following?"

Sandbar barely registered Yona's question. "Uh, yeah, just… gotta use the restroom! Be right there!" He forced a smile.

"Okay, meet ya there!" Silverstream replied while the others nodded.

With a sluggish gait, he turned and walked in the opposite direction, his hooves kicking up small puffs of dust as he hurried away. Yona raised a hoof, silently calling for him to wait before she could. But by the time Yona had opened her mouth, Sandbar was gone.

"Yona, you coming?" Smolder inquired,

"...Yeah."

Sandbar stumbles to the blue portable toilet lined up on the furthest edge of the perimeter safe zone. His shoulder grazed an occupied stall, eliciting a startled "Hey!" from within.

"Sorry..." Sandbar mumbled, his voice barely a whisper. He shuffled on, the apology hanging heavy in the air. Reaching the next stall, he flung open the door with a slam that echoed through the flimsy structure. A quick glance confirmed it was empty. He stumbled inside, kicking the door shut with a resounding clang and collapsing onto the cold plastic seat.

Using the restroom wasn't even a consideration. He slumps down, bringing his trembling hooves into view. Flashes of yesterday's nightmare, horrors of it all, replayed with violent intricacy in his dreams. He woke up today in a cold sweat, getting less than an hour's worth of sleep.

A choked sob escaped his lips. "W-why didn't I notice it sooner?" he rasped, the question echoing around the tiny confines of the stall. Using his hooves, Sandbar gripped the sides of his head, ruffling his mane in the process. Whether he was trying to comfort himself or something else, not even he knew what he wanted to do. Sandbar squeezed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to block out the scene.

The vision, the image of Bow Hothoof getting atomised before him, permanently burned into his retinas. He could see it all with terrifying clarity: the muscles, the torn flesh, the bones, all because he was slow to react. The stinging pain from his eyes caused him to blink reflexively, and hot tears began to stream down his face. 

A ragged breath escapes him, hunching over at the mental picture. Sandbar's trembling got more violent as another memory terrorised him. Windy Whistle and her untimely demise to the centipede curse. Her body ripped in two from the waist up, leaving her entrails sprawled all in front of him.

A ragged breath escaped him, a harsh rasp that scraped against his raw throat. He hunched over at the mental picture, the confined space of the stall offering no escape from the horrors that haunted him. His trembling intensified, becoming a violent shudder that racked his entire body.

Another memory, just as vivid and soul-crushing, slammed into him. This time, it was Windy Whistle. 

Then, the sickening crunch of bones thundered through him as the centipede's curse ripped through her. Her body was torn in two from the waist up. Entrails spilt forth in a grotesque cascade, staining the ground a sickening crimson.

A sudden eruption of bile shot up from his stomach, an acidic tang filling his mouth. Sandbar's eyes flew open wide with terror. He clamped his hooves over his mouth in a desperate attempt to contain the rising tide of nausea. It was a futile effort.

With a choked gasp, he lurched to his side, whipping around and off the seat just in time. A torrent of bile erupted from his throat, splashing against the cold interior of the toilet bowl with a distasteful squelch. Heaving dry sobs wracked his body as his stomach convulsed, expelling the contents of his already empty gut.

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the cold sweat and the splatter of his own vomit. 

"W-why didn't I move...?" Flopping to the ground, Sandbar slumped into a fetal position, his tremors subsiding into a dull ache that resonated through his entire body. He didn't even register the dampness seeping through his fur from the floor, the stench of his despair a far more potent assault on his senses.

Another choked sob escaped his lips, a question echoing in the hollowness of his heart. "...Why was I saved...?" The words tasted like ash in his mouth, a bitter truth he couldn't swallow.

"...Why did Rainbow say it wasn't my fault...?"

What do you mean? It is your fault.

Sandbar stifles a hitch, his body shivering. "I-I..."

What? Isn't that what you wanted to hear? Do you think you'd be forgiven if you admit guilty and beg forgiveness? They died because of you. Two loving parents of a mare died saving YOU, an ambassador of friendship. You knew the risk of going into the war front, yet you did. A Naive, ignorant, and arrogant kid. Do you think you deserve pity?

"...no."

Do you think you deserve forgiveness?

"But I couldn't..." tears flow down the side of his cheek.

Do you think by playing hero, everything would be alright? That, at the end of the day, everything would magically fix itself if you preserve hard enough?

"...I-I just wanted to save ponies."

And how did that turn out? It's ironic how two innocents had to forfeit their lives for you. And what was their reward? Dying in the most gruesome ways imaginable! Don't you see what I'm pointing at? This isn't anything new. YOU'RE THE PROBLEM, YOU'RE A MURDERER.

"...Die."

Hmm? What's that?

"Die... now..."

I can't hear you over your wallowing in self-pity, you pathetic excuse for an ambassador.

A primal scream ripped from Sandbar, raw and desperate. He clawed at his face, managing to draw a bit of blood as his vision swished with tears. "JUST ME!! DIE NOW! WHY COULDN'T BE JUST ME WHO DIED!?"

His sobbing and insanity fill the suffocating enclosure, the walls seemingly closing in on him. Lying in a puddle of his own tears and bile, a broken and pathetic whimper escaped his throat. It was barely audible over the wet rasps of his ragged breaths. His vision, blurred by a film of tears and sweat, focused on a single point – the grime-caked window high up on the stall wall. A sliver of weak and sickly sunlight managed to pierce through the grime, illuminating the scene before him in an unforgiving light.

It landed on the puddle surrounding him, highlighting the flecks of bile that bobbed sickeningly on the surface. His own reflection stared back, eyes half-lidded.

With another low whimper, he attempted to rise. His limbs protested weakly. Eventually, he managed to semble a standing position. The effort left him swaying, and the bile and tear mixture dripped from his chin. He languorously made his way over to the sink with the small mirror propped against the wall. 

Taking a good look at it rather than the disgusting liquid solution he had concocted earlier, he looked no less miserable than he was just now. This wasn't him. This couldn't be him.

Opening the facet, fresh water poured out in a constant stream. Cupping his hooves, Sandbar let the water build up in them before splashing it on his face. He repeated this a couple of times until he felt it was adequate enough that the smell of vomit was somewhat washed from his face. He moved to the toilet next, taking a roll of toilet paper, and cleaned up his mess.

After all, he was already such a burden. He wouldn't want to worry anybody else about his lack of self-care.

Tossing the crumpled paper ball into the toilet, he flushed it down the bowl. Watching the swirling vortex suck the paper ball into its depths, the reflection of the water contorts his visage into its whirling darkness, hypnotising him to stay longer than needed to ensure whatever had appropriately sunk into the abyss.

Exiting the portable toilet, Sandbar made his way over to the cafeteria, eyes bloodshot. 






Present Time


Sandbar gripped the hilt of Yuta's katana, removing Yuta's severed arm as it fell limp to the side. Shaking the memory away from his mind, he could feel the rough cord wrap against his lips and tongue. Cursed energy ripped through his cheeks like a shock wave, immense pain coursing through his entire body. He managed a shaky hoof, pushing himself upright against a surge of nausea. His head spun, and his vision swam from the foreign power within him. Pure, unfiltered, cursed energy struck every nerve in his body as Sandbar began to burst into cold sweats.

Sandbar barreled towards the centipede curse, the curse inches away from swallowing the unconscious Ocellus, the katana in his mouth glinting in the setting sun. Darting to its side, Sandbar jabs the curved edge of the blade into the curse's side, causing the curse to hurl back in an agonised scream. Its writhing body slammed into Sandba, the force of the impact throwing him back, the hilt of the katana digging painfully into his teeth. He tasted a metallic tang – blood, his own or the creature's. He didn't care.

He scrambled to his hooves just in time to sidestep the head of the diving curse; the impact bellowed through the neighbourhood as it rumbled, lodging itself into the ground. Without wasting a second, Sandbar ran to the softer exposed neck.

In a single, fluid motion, he swung the katana upwards, the curved blade slashing a sickeningly wet gash into the side of the atrocity. The curse erupted in a horrifying shriek, its immense body bucking and thrashing. Its hooves dug into the ground in a frantic bid to regain control, but the dust covering the field acted against its wishes.

Sandbar braced himself for the onslaught as he felt himself yanked and tossed while the creature writhed in an agonising dance. He gritted his teeth, his grip on the katana unwavering.

With a surge of adrenaline, he thrust the blade back into the already gaping wound. A muffled, choked scream ripped from the curse's pulsating mass. Its backside, a writhing mass of pulsating segments, slammed and bounced against the ground in a desperate attempt to dislodge him. Sandbar held on for dear life, his body getting flung in every direction possible.

The hectic movements from the curse ended abruptly with a bone-jarring crunch. Still clinging to the thrashing creature, Sandbar flinched at the new sound. Above him, a rectangular shadow fell. Looking up, he saw Ocellus, her horn glowing faintly but erratically. Her face was streaked with grime and sweat and contorted in a grimace of exertion. A deep gash marred the top of her forehead, leaking a viscous green ichor that stained her eyelashes.

"Sand...bar..." she gasped, her voice weak and raspy. Despite her evident exhaustion, her grip on the makeshift weapon – a repurposed hay cart – was surprisingly firm. Its wheels, askew and its contents scattered across the dusty field, had slammed into the back of the curse with a force that momentarily stunned the monstrous centipede. "Ru-"

Her sentence was cut short by the two pony heads shooting up to meet her; finally freed from its temporary prison, it swung its head against Ocellus, connecting with a splat and sending her careening to the roof of a house. She hit the roof's edge, bouncing off with an arch before landing on the rooftop.

As the monstrous centipede lurched its attention back towards Sandbar, a desperate shadow overcast before his eyes. Smolder and Gallus smashed into each of the curse's pony heads, clamping the thing's jaw shut while Silverstream, unable to use her punctured arms, focused her hindleg into the crease of its neck. With the combined power of all three, they forced it back down onto the earth.

"Sandbar, go for it!!" Gallus yelled, his voice hoarse and choked, barely audible over the muffled thumps and hisses emanating from the struggling curse. Blood dribbled from his beak. Despite the pain that etched lines across his face, his grip on the creature's head never faltered.

"We'll hold it down for you!" Silverstream echoed back. Ignoring the searing agony that flared with every movement, she dug her hooves into the pulsating flesh, anchoring herself against the creature's thrashing. 

Smolder could only muster a nod towards the pony before her coughing fit ensued.

Sandbar drew the blade from the lumps of flesh. Pivoting, he sliced it back into the meat as he ran along the long insectoid body away from the body, the blade still sunk muscle deep. The curse bucked and writhed with renewed fervour. The ground shuddered beneath them from the violent spasm as Sandbar continued his run. The longer he held onto the blade, the more he felt the cursed energy from within seeping into his body. Damaging the curse, along with that, the strength to persist being sapped away from him.

An odd liquid warmth ran down his muzzle and upper lip. It seeped through the blade's hilt and onto his tongue. Metallic flavour assaulted his taste buds, blood. A nosebleed. He deduced it was from the cursed energy's doing, but he couldn't care less as he galloped forward. Then it hit him like a tonne of bricks hammering at his skull: a throbbing headache. Every action, every course of movement he took felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.

"No!" Sandbar shouted in his head. "I can't falter now! Ignore all the pain in your body!!" Smolder dug his hooves into the ground, pusher off even harder. "More ponies will die!" The thought hammered in his head, "Because of you! All because you can't run one more mile!!"

Sandbar clenched onto the handle even tighter, so much so his teeth threatened to shatter from the pressure. He's in a full gallop. Every vein on his face mirrored the beat of his heart, the corners of his eyes and vision painted a deep purple, as did the flesh surrounding his mouth.

A high-pitched whine filled his ears, an unnatural echo that seemed to vibrate through his very bones. It drowned out the ragged gasps escaping his throat, the pleas for air his burning lungs desperately made. His hooves pounded on, the once familiar sensation now a dull throb at the very tips. Every cell in his body screamed at him to stop, to release the blade and collapse. The only thing keeping him upright was the adrenaline washing through him.

"Silverstream, Smolder, Ocellus, and Gallus gave you this opportunity! Use it!! Don't let them down!!"

The world dissolved into a fractured dreamscape, the clear image of the centipede's body mixing together into strokes and swirls of greens and purples. The edges of his vision bled into an inky blackness, a suffocating shroud threatening to consume him whole. Warped by the exertion and the cursed energy coursing through him, everything was blurry, the seams of lines in between hazing together. Sandbar couldn't tell what was in front of him anymore; his vision offered only blurry glimpses of the writhing mass next to him.

Seconds stretched into an eternity, each tick of the mental clock echoing like a death knell. The numbness that had started in his hooves had crept up his legs with the chilling relentlessness of a rising tide, now engulfing his entire back half.  

"What exactly was I running for?... Ah, that's right. I needed to exorcise this curse..." 

Sandbar tilts his bobbing head just enough that his eyes are staring at the slow-approaching night sky. His mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, though one did pierce through the rest. A new thought emerged through the haze of pain and exhaustion, as unexpected as poignant in spite of the bellowing curse. It was quiet, to Sandbar at least, peaceful even. 

"...I wonder what Mom and Dad are doing..." The image of his parents, warm and safe in their home, a world away from this nightmare, washed over him. Another pang of longing tore through him. The image of his little sister playing with her friends filled his mind. "I hope she's alright too..."

A single tear escaped Sandbar's clenched eyelid, tracing a glistening track through the grime and cursed blood marring his face. 

"...I'm sorry, Mom... I'm so sorry..." Sandbar apologised, the burning pain in his eyes intensifying. "I don't think I can keep that promise of coming home safe anymore..." Another tear trickled down his cheek. "I'm sorry, Dad... I-I won't grow up to be the stallion you want me to be..." Sandbar allowed his tears to flow freely now, not having the strength to save face anymore. 

A wet cough wracked Sandbar's entire body, a violent spasm that sent tremors through his numb legs. The metallic tang that coated his tongue was familiar – blood,? He couldn't tell. Everything was a foggy white. 

High above, Ocellus crawled to the roof's edge, barely catching a glimpse of Sandbar's blood-ridden face as he ran past with Yuta's blade in his mouth. 

"S-Sandbar!" She yelled, "You have to stop!"

Down below, Sandbar's ears didn't perk at the sound, even when he fainty registered it. 

"Is someone calling for me...?"He tried to twitch an ear to acknowledge the call, but his body felt like lead, every muscle stabbing him in agony.

Sandbar was adrift in a sea of pain. It pulsed in his every breath, a relentless thrumming that vibrated through his bones. It was a dull ache in his hooves, a searing fire in his chest, a white-hot inferno behind his eyes. Finally, he tripped, a lone pebble freeing him from the weight of everything collapsing onto him. He dislodges the blade from the curse, allowing another spray of blood to shoot out. 

The speed he was going caused him to drag his face along the dirt a few inches before coming to a stop. Yet, somehow, he didn't feel the pain that was supposed to go with it, even though he felt the bumps from the impact. Shakily, he released the katana from his teeth, his breaths hoarse and struggling for air.

"Sandbar!!" Yona screamed as her crumpled form lay on the ground, struggling to pull herself upright, her powerful legs the only limbs that seemed to obey her.

Smolder coughed violently, a crimson spray erupting from her muzzle with each hacking spasm. This act loosened her hold on the curse, giving it enough freedom to heave slightly, causing Smolder to lose balance. With this, the curse used the space to generate enough strength to toss the three off its head and neck. Finally free from being pinned down, it reared its head upward, seeking out the pest that had been cutting open its body this whole time.

Sandbar struggled upwards, a monumental effort that left him trembling. Every inhale was a searing stab in his chest, and blinking sent fresh jolts of pain through his skull. He slumped, vision blurring into a watercolour mess of browns and reds. Blood dripped steadily from his chin, staining the dirt crimson.

"...Why am I... fighting so hard..." Sandbar wanted to quit, to just give in. Suddenly, a gentle nudge against his chin jolted him. Looking up, the unmistakable translucent visage of Windy Whistle came into view, and beside her, Bow Hothoof. Sandbar's eyes widen as he reaches a hoof out, trying to mumble an apology.

Windy and Bow shook their heads as if saying, "Don't apologise." Instead, they moved to the side, allowing Sandbar to see his friends. He had thought he lost his vision to the blade, but to his surprise, he managed to catch a clear view of them, not fogged nor clouded from the poisoning the external cursed energy had induced him. It was brief, but his vision was returned to him before fading back into obscurity. 

"That's right..."

Tears began to stream down his face once more, managing to stifle a cry before he collected himself. A shadow cast above him. He figured his time was running up. He tried to speak, thank them, and tell them… everything. But a rasp was all that escaped his cracked lips. His vision began to dim again, the edges fraying. Doing his best, Sandbar mouthed out his messages, unable to actually voice them.

"Thank you... Everyone." Sandbar turns to Yona, unable to read her expression. Strange, this was the first time he had truly felt calm in a long while. Sighing, his smile grew wider, sincerity shining through the blood-stained teeth and fur. "Yona... I love you."

The only thing that reciprocated his feelings were two giant mandibles closing in on either side of him, the warm breath of the curse hugging him in an embrace. 

Chomp.