//------------------------------// // Racing without a Finish Line // Story: Blackscale // by Leviathan //------------------------------// Nobody tried to stop me as I fled from the scene. The other foals stepped aside, probably fearing I would hurt them if they got in my way. That or they were to dumbfounded by the scene. They didn’t know it had been an accident, how could they? Ginger had a knife stuck in her chest, I would’ve had no chance. And with the prejudice against unicorns they probably wouldn’t believe me if I claimed my magic just went off. I ran past the oncoming adults. They probably heard Ginger Snap scream, and knew they couldn’t get away with ignoring the noise. I just kept running, though. I ran past the small cafeteria and to the reception area. Nobody was tending the counter and I managed to go through the front doors without anything opposing me. I ran through the streets of lower Baltimare, ducking under the other ponies trotting by. I headed southwest. I remembered hearing that there was a forest somewhere out there. It would be an appropriate place to lay low. It would give me a chance to decide what I wanted to do next. I had no clue as to whether or not I was being pursued, but I did not want to take any unnecessary chances. I passed through the streets, sticking close to the alleyways just to reassure myself. Having been raised on the streets of Baltimare I navigated my way through its many dark passages easily. I ran for hours, horrified and perturbed by the predicament I found myself in. I reached the city limits around dark. Even though I had been running I had mostly stuck to back alleyways and such, so I had not made the best time. I could see the outline of some trees, obviously the beginnings of a forest. I walked towards the tree line, too tired to continue running. Hopefully the forest would provide shelter from any outside elements and allow me enough to think. It did not take long for me to reach the border of the forest and I remember looking back on the fading Baltimare and feeling...satisfied. It wasn’t contentment, or even hope, but...it was something. I knew I could never go back there, lest I be apprehended for my crime (unlikely) or killed by one of Ginger Snap’s ‘friends.’ I was glad to be away from the home. When I was there I had not really been living. It only held bad memories and empty feelings. Now that I was away from it I could start anew. Maybe I could find a reason to live. Perhaps that was little too hopeful, though... I fled deeper into the woods until I couldn’t see the outline of the city against the fading twilight. I was somewhere deep within the forest, without food, without water, and without supplies. Hopefully the same rules for scavenging in the city applied to the forest. Otherwise, I would die. And it probably wouldn’t be pleasant. I sat against the trunk of a colossal oak. Massive roots twisted out of the ground, but they did not impede upon my ability to rest. I closed my eyes, preparing to let the comfort of sleep overtake me in the darkness. It was almost nice to have a moment of solitude. A moment where I didn’t have to concern myself with the others who might strike out at me. I could rest, maybe even be relaxed for the first time in such a long time. Sweet, sweet solitude...always eluding me... “You performed quite splendidly.” A voice broke out as I was drifting away, breaking me out of my stupor. “I must say that your retreat was nothing short of professional.” There was a momentary pause. “In an amateurish sort of way.” “What!? Who’s there!” I was startled, frightened even. I lived in the city long enough to know that there was usually a reason when someone hid away. “Show yourself, now!” I stood up quickly, too quickly. I became a bit woozy in my haste and my head spun for a moment. Running the length of a marathon without warning can be slightly grueling. I shook away the dizzy feeling, willing my body to wake along with me. I turned around trying to make out the source of the voice. The forest was a Stygian and untenanted. This served to push me farther towards the brink. A known enemy is preferable to an unknown variable. Could I have just imagined the voice? Was it just the product of my stressed mind? No, I had been a survivor long enough to know to trust my instincts, and right now there was some primal warning flaring within me. A few minutes passed with nothing happening, but still I stood, prepared for anything. I had my head pointed downwards showing off my horn. I wasn’t actually privilege to any spells, but it never hurt to have a bluff ready. “You trust your senses. That is excellent. And I use the term excellence to refer to something formed by habit, not by luck. Habitual excellence is exactly what I require.” The voice came out again, though this time I was prepared to pinpoint its location. It was deep, but not jagged or sharp. It had a certain serenity to it, a cool affect that soothed my tired soul, yet put it on edge. “Where are you!?” The pitch of my voice was uncontrolled, evidence of the terror that was passing through me. “It’s my turn to ask a question. Are you afraid, little one?” There was a slow wind passing through, making its way up my spine and breathing on my neck. It was cold, so cold. It was cold and I was so, so weak. I couldn’t resist shivering. “N-No!” My body was physically shaking, unmasking my lie before it even had a chance to leave my lips. “Then why, my dear, are you here, running?” The voice came from every angle, low as a whisper but loud enough for me to hear clearly. “...” “You’ve come to trust your senses, haven’t you? They’re all you have had to rely on in your life, aren’t they? Every touch and smell, sight and sound, means something to you. So then, I have to ask, what are those telling you right now?” A barrage of sensory spells struck me. A dim fog began to pass over the trees, obscuring items previously mere feet away from my view. A foul stench emanated from some unknown source, reeking of rotting corpses and stale bread. I could hear a faint moaning, distant but close, wailing in pain as it was subjected to torture. The torture itself was unseen and therefore left to my imagination. The imagination is not thing meant to run free. A shadow passed over the fog, outlining a figure. The tall, lanky silhouette of a pony struck against the fog, barring the assaulting smog. It dissipated slowly, allowing me to view the mysterious shade as it passed. I could see it, trotting towards me in a comfortable stride. Drawing closer to me as I backed against the tree I sat in front of. Its approach brought something with it. The smell of death died away, as did the screeches of pain that emanated from the thick haze. The fog was completely gone now, the only thing remaining being the contour of the shadow, drawing ever so near. I could see its real form now, their true physique, not just an outline on a Hadean cloud. They were clothed in a cloak black as midnight, hood raised over their visage, eyes hidden away from me. The figure stood tall, knees straight and hooves firmly placed against the ground. They were only a few feet from me. A few feet stood between me and my fate. I was paralyzed. I sat against the bark of the tree, breaths shallow and fast, waiting for my inevitable end to come down on me. The cool wind blew against my face, causing my eyes to water, my lips to chap, and my body to shiver against the force of it. My eyes were locked onto the cloaked one, staring deeply into the dark hood, trying to discern who, or what, I was to succumb to in the end. He leaned down slowly, neck craning against the fabric of the cloak to edge closer to me. I could hear his respirations now, deep and calm, oblivious to my perturbation. His breath was not warm. It froze against my skin like ice, slowly working its way down my spine, fueling my terror. There was a deep inhalation followed by a small pop. A snout appeared from behind the hood, revealing the lips of the shade. They drew close to my ear, practically bumping against it. “Tell me, why do you endure?” The voice was a whisper, hardly speaking at all. “...” I was frozen to the spot. I expected for him to inform me of how he was going to drag my soul through the deepest reaches of Tartarus, past the incarcerated demons that made their home there. The voice did not relent so easily. “My intentions are not so dark.” Lies. The voice was quiet, poorly attempting to calm my nerves. “I am merely curious. Why do you endure?” “...” I do not know if my silence was due to fear, or lack of an answer. That serene voice pierced through my head again. “Do you have a reason?” The voice had not risen nor lowered its pitch. It had merely maintained its serenity and hushed tone. “...” “You don’t have an answer, do you?” There was a momentary pause in his breaths as he drew his tongue along the rim of his lips. “...” My fear had me pinned there, unable to move, unable to breath...unable to answer. I couldn’t find solace in anything, not even my silence. Then the voice did something unexpected. It gave me a chance. One I am very grateful for. “Do you want one?” The tranquility in his vocality was present. It guided the words along like honey, slowly leading them to me. Allowing me to process what was just said. And for the first time in a long time, I found my voice, tucked away, yet somehow ready. “Do...I want...what?” My voice was almost as quiet as the shade’s. I heard what could be compared to a snicker. It was a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep exhalation. “A reason. Do you want a good reason to suffer?” He began to pull away from me, slowly rising to his hooves as his neck extended upwards. He just stood there, silently looking down on me, awaiting an answer. Even in that environment, with every instinct telling me to run, I could not help but think. I did want a reason. I did want some kind of purpose to suffer for. If I was forced to suffer then why couldn’t I have a reason? Thinking about my life in that accursed orphanage was agonizing. I had suffered so much in Baltimare(along with all the other children) without reason. I couldn’t speak, partly from fear, partly from anticipation. It was a 95/5% balance, really. I gave my affirmation to him with a nod. A nervous, minuscule nod. One that would require an eagle with a telescope to see...in daylight. “You’re brave to accept an offer such as mine. Not because you have anything to fear from me, but because you have no idea whether there is any fear to be had.” I didn’t quite understand what he meant at that time. He raised one hoof high into the air, and I instinctually cowered into the crook of the trunk. There was another sharp intake of breath and another cold snicker as the stallion ran the hoof past his hood bringing it to rest on his neck. He was revealing his face. Was that supposed to be a gesture to calm me. He was smiling. It wasn’t a welcoming smile, though. Nor was it an empty smile. It was just a smile, calm and serene as the evening breeze. Behind that smile laid a black-haired face, every bit as dark as the cloak that had been draped over it such a short time ago. His snout was pronounced, with shallow cheekbones, making him appear regal. His mane was long, falling to one side haphazardly to partially cover his right ear. It was midnight blue, with alternating streaks of black and indigo fading through. Its length was excessive, to the point where it was almost effeminate. It laid loose and bedraggled, either showing a lack of regard, or an inability to care for it. His nostrils flared ever so slightly as he breathed. And his breaths were even and deep. Very deep. It was as if he was meditating, regarding every possible outcome of the current situation. His ear flicked once, but I did not see any muscles in his cheeks move. His eyes were most peculiar. They irradiated a soft light, deep amber piercing through my skin and looking into my very soul. It felt as if he was able to divulge my every secret upon a single glance, looking straight into my memories. It was an intimidating visage. “Then come, my dear. Come to me and I swear my family will give you what you most desire. What you most need.” His chilling smile created a placable setting. Only moments ago it had made such a dark one. Funny what a smile can do. I sat in my spot, unable to move, unable to get up. My body was done. I had experienced enough adrenaline. The shade stood still, smile never passing from his features. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” “...” “It’s quite alright. I should’ve known you would be. We’ll just take the quick route home.” He took a step towards me, slowly leaning forward. I flinched away. To me, this was a matter of trust. And trust was something I didn’t give out. Ever. “You’ll have to trust somepony, eventually. Why not trust the right one?” His voice was silky, and quiet as the rolling winds of the moorlands. I don’t know where I found my energy. Perhaps it was his smile, a lack of purpose, maybe even nothing at all. I leaned inwards, and he responded by wrapping a leg around me and pulling me closer. He draped his cloak across me, propping it as a blanket. I absorbed the warmth of the fabric, letting its protective wrap shield me from the unforgiving chill of the evening winds. His horn was emitting a black aura that slowly enveloped us both. I could feel the tendrils of his magic reaching out and grasping me. I didn’t know much about magic, but I even I could see, this mysterious stallion was powerful. After covering us both the aura ceased expanding and just stopped. There was loud crack and blinding flash as my entire world turned white. For a moment there nothing. Nothing but my thoughts and memories. So basically...nothing. Then an overwhelming feeling of nausea washed over me, coupled by a crippling dizziness. I was seeing only red as I toppled over, hitting something solid and hard in the process. The last thing I saw was the black of the shade’s coat.