//------------------------------// // "Arc 3: Tsotl" Ch11 The opener // Story: The String of Fate // by Omior Falroc //------------------------------// Omior kept fading in and out of consciousness. He had been fighting for at least an hour since they crashed and the pain continued just enough to keep him from focusing on anything specific. He heard voices as well along with losing and regaining consciousness repeatedly. It was like a sermon was being held inside his head, and everyone was talking about him. “Now I know what I said about watching for the forest pixies but....” One voice lead off on. “Omior, don’t eat that. you’ll spoil your appetite sweety.....” Another voice inquired. “...Just run...*Hack*.....Run while you still can...” A weak voice managed to cough up. “And so forth will you see the light of the holy one’s power. He shall strike you down for your insolence. BOY!” The voices continued on and on as he remembered bits and pieces. A snow white moment stained with red in the mountains. A group of robed figures, one of which was yelling at him when he was but a child. An excitable little girl thanking him for saving her. Finally Omior felt himself overwhelmed as he relived the memories. ______________________________________________________________________________ Sometime in the past... Fire was ablaze as Omior lay dazed, frozen in the white of the snow. He shivered and shrunk into himself like a ball as he tried to will away the sounds of fighting and death from the direction the fire was coming from. His home, something about it he could remember, some furnishings, a happy family that lived out in the middle of nowhere. His family. A simple out of the way nobodies who were friendly to everyone. Fire, no. More like an inferno, burning everything in its path. Hungering. Devouring, endlessly engulfing all it could. But not him, no that was left for the man......Man. what was his name? Who was he?.......Father yes, Father was fighting someone... no some people. The stain on the snow of the ground, it was red. Dark red. Omior’s mother lay behind him, a large slash across the left side of her face all the way to her eye. The blood that would’ve been spilling out had been slowed by the cold weather, and what escaped was leaking and soaking into the snow. The snow Omior was laying in but a few feet from his mother. He turned his head and his eyes went wide at the sight of his mother. He jerked his head back around and cradled it in his chest as his father was slaughtered by the men he was fighting. The men that burned their home and killed his mother. Omior couldn’t handle the stress and the next thing he knew, everything was dark to him. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t move, he dared not even try. His body was going numb from the cold, but he couldn’t feel it while huddled into a ball. The outside world was closed off for the young boy. It was just him and him alone. The boy heard as heavy footfalls started to come closer to him. He was so scared the men had decided to come for him, to kill him and use his dead body and the other bodies for their own games of amusement whatever they were. The heavy sound of furred boots stopped at his back and he shuddered as some of the icicles that formed around him cracked and fell off into the snow. A gloved hand stretched down and Omior tensed up, expecting a sword to gut him from his stomach to head. Instead, the gloved hand wiped some snow off of his thin clothing. A second gloved hand came down and picked him up, wrapping a blanket around him. The stranger put Omior on a horse before sitting behind where the boy lay and set out towards a direction Omior didn’t know of, nor care. All he knew was that he was alive. He blacked out seconds later. Years later....... “Omior! Sweety?” An elderly female voice rang out in a small cottage. The sound of wood hitting wood was coming from the backyard. “Omior? Is that you?” The back door opened up and an elderly woman shakily stepped out into the open. Outside was a small garden Next to it was a set of training equipment. Omior was practicing with another man who looked almost as old, but far more in shape. Muscles lined with scars were along the elderly man’s wrinkles and his face looked to tell a thousand stories. His eyes were a smokey grey and his hair was just as white.The beard he bore was a brown but was beginning to whiten as well. Omior was much older than his tiny self, looking to be of fifteen. His dirt brown hair hung down to his shoulders and reflected some of the light as he dripped with sweat, blocking and striking in a back and forth that didn’t seem to ever cease. His blue eyes reflected strong focus in a sea of wonder and curiosity; His pale white skin was caked in dirt and sweat. He managed just one more weak swing before the older man took one final action. He swung his sword in an upward arc, hooking Omior’s sword and causing it to fly into the air. The man then kicked under Omior’s feet and grabbed the boy’s sword before it hit the ground. As Omior hit the ground the two wooden swords made a scissor shape and surrounded the boy’s neck. The old man smiled. “Checkmate my lad,” He dropped Omior’s sword and held the hand out. Omior took it graciously before both of them noticed the elderly woman coming up to Omior. After he got to his feet in a swift pull the boy brushed some of the dust off of his ragged clothing. “Oh my dear Omior I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” She grabbed his cheeks and brushed some crusty dirt off. “I’ve been calling for you for awhile now. There are guards here to speak with you.” The old man spoke up, surprised. “Guards? What’d you do now lad?” “I’ve done nothing.” “Well then let us go see what they want.” The old man and Omior both went inside to see the two guards sitting down, clad in full armor and carrying their weapons. They immediately reacted to the two’s entrance. “We’ve come for Omior.” “Wait, why would you need my son?” “The emperor wants words now that new information has been given to the armies. His royal majesty has found interest in him.” All at once the two went to take Omior when the old man raised his hands. “He may not be my flesh and blood, but I won’t let my son be taken without knowing why.” “We come from orders of the emperor, you have no say in this.” They moved closer when the old man changed his stance to a more threatening one. The two guards unsheathed their swords and announced again. “We are here for the boy. He will be returned safely, but the king demands a meeting with him. You will listen and obey.” The elderly man growled angrily but conceded. “He comes back alive.” He nudged Omior towards the guards. “We make no promises. The emperor may not want him there for a good reason.” Omior nervously spoke up as the two guards pushed him out the door. “W-wait, what do you mean he may not want me for a good reason? Hold on!” The world turned black around him as he was dragged out that door. He cried and kicked and screamed and the world rebuilt itself yet again. A sword swung down at him and he rolled out of the way. Fire burned around him as wood cracked and fell to pieces in piles of ash. He saw his adoptive father crushed under some rubble of stone and wood aflamed that burned at his back. Omior managed to roll past the large man with the sword as he swung down and got his sword stuck in the floor. Omior reached his father and tried to get the wood off of him. He couldn’t even budge it, but he continued as the man with the sword ripped his steel blade from the ground. Omior’s father grabbed his foot to get his attention before speaking up. “You have to......*cough* get out of here......Just go. I’ll be fine but *hack* get out of here.” “No father, I won't leave you. I promise you that we’ll both get out of here.” Omior continued to try and move the wood as the man walked slowly towards them both, laughing viciously as his blade dragged along the wood. “No, just run.....*hack*....run while you still can.” “...And so forth will you see the light of the holy one’s power. He shall strike you down for your insolence. BOY!” The evil man said as he swung his blade down. Omior’s father pushed him out of the way just as the man swung his blade and it connected cleanly to his skull. The man kept jerking at the sword but it stayed firmly in the old man’s head. Omior began crying as he turned and bolted out of the room. He had nothing left but to run now. ______________________________________________________________________________ Omior hazily opened his eyes to feel himself being dragged. In between darkness and the outside world Omior managed to see a black pony with bug wings and another pony with a set of wings dragging Vigil along just a bit ahead of him. He tried to struggle against the seemingly unmovable hooves dragging him along but to no avail. He blacked out again a few seconds after he saw the rock from before the crash. Omior opened his eyes again to a dark and cold floor. It was made of stone from what he could tell but he couldn’t move very much to confirm it. He heard what he assumed to be Vigil attempting to wake up and move about as well just to the place adjacent of him. All of him felt numb and unusable as he kept fighting the state he was in. An hour passed of repeatedly trying to move about he began feeling his fingers move. He kept repeating the motion on his fingers as feeling came back to him faster. Slowly, Omior began feeling his entire wrist and soon after, his entire left and right arms. He picked himself up as the feeling of numbness finally went away. He forced his eyes open and looked around. He immediately cringed and moved an arm in front of his face as the torchlight hit his vision. Omior squinted and looked around. His cage was made of some kind of sharpened bone, the top of it being metal. The area around him was a small room, a locked and barred door being what he presumed was the entrance and exit of the room. He heard Vigil begin to get up from his laying position, coughing into a hoof as he managed to sit upright. “The hell happened after the crash?” “We were dragged into someplace. Other than that, I’ve no idea,” Omior couldn’t think straight. His memories were still hitting him so hard he could barely focus. ‘You really are stupid aren’t’cha Omi? Never thought you’d get us captured again.’ “What was that?” Omior asked as he turned his head to Vigil. “What did you just say?” Vigil gave the warrior a confused look as he answered, “What are you talking about? I didn’t say anything.” Omior went silent after hearing that. He stared at the ground as he silently fought to suppress his memories and the feelings resurfacing with them. “What’s wrong Omior?” Before he could answer the unicorn, the door opened to reveal two black ponies with holes covering their hooves, horns, and wings. Behind them was a faceless one who looked over Omior with a scientific curiosity. “Shit, now changelings? What’s next, is there some sort of flying sharks that are gonna try and eat us?” Vigil asked as the changelings opened the cage. They dragged Omior out first who only slightly struggled against them. Vigil was picked up and dragged out by the faceless one, he kicked and hollered as he tried to get out of the thing’s grip but to no avail. Both of them were dragged down a hallway, the captors going through twists and turns as they finally reached a door that was merely part of a cage. It opened and both the pony and human were thrown inside. Omior stood to his full height and helped Vigil up as they looked around. Cheering berated their ears as they saw the giant cage they were in had an assortment of cheering creatures waiting for something. Changelings, faceless ones, gryphons, ponies, all clapping, stomping, cheering. Omior heard a “woah” from Vigil as he looked around the rest of the room. The cage separating the viewers from them completely surrounded the room minus the floor. The area adjacent to their entrance had a door that was absolutely huge. It was made with wood and had steel reinforcement and deadbolts all over it. The door was violently pounded against and jerked to every hit. Omior looked unsure of what to do, his eyes crossing over everything. That’s when he caught sight of a small table that was almost invisible. It held an assortment of weapons and shields. Vigil had jerked his head once he caught the sound of beating against a wooden door. He looked at it almost as if he’d die immediately after whatever it was came through. Omior passed right by him to get to the weapons as an announcer voice spoke up. “Mares and Stallions! Gryphons and Changelings everywhere, and whatever the hell the rest of you are! Welcome to the AREEEEENNNAAAAAAA! Our latest victims come from the nearby city of Ponyville and another universe! Welcome the slaves to their slaughter!” The crowd’s cheering got louder as the announcer spoke up again. “Aaaand now! The king of the arena! The monster of the cage! Skulll Crusherrrrrrr!” As he said it, the wooden doors were obliterated, wood shrapnel shooting out into all kinds of directions outwards. Skull Crusher stood at fifteen feet, his skin was a pale pink, his arms hung down nearly to his feet as his giant feet stepped into the ring. His one eye scanned the field for his prey. It landed onto Vigil and he roared in rage as he began charging at the pony in question. Vigil looked like a deer in the headlights as his mind took a second to make his hooves turn him around and make him run. He was chased close behind by the behemoth of a creature and it only took a few seconds for the both of them to have reached the edge of the arena, Vigil turning to run along it in order to get as far away from the thing as possible. Omior looked at the assortment of weapons and tried to quickly figure out what would stop the cyclops quickly enough. “No not the spear... that sword’s too short... I don’t even know what that thing is... Aha!” Omior picked up a double edged battle axe, it was much longer than most of the weapons and it was the best he could do for now. He watched and calculated as Skull Crusher and Vigil kept running along the edge, Vigil just barely keeping out of reach. Once he got it down he was just about to jump into the fray when another stray memory hit him. “Father I.....Wait please!” Omior cried. “You’re a failure and you’ll always be a failure! You killed your mother and now you’re vying for my life. Shame to-” Omior saw a large hand pick the man up by the head. He screamed out in fear and surprise before it was abruptly cut off by the hand crushing his head. The body fell limp and dropped to the ground, what’s left of the head were but shattered bone, blood, and gore. Omior screamed in fear and grabbed at his head. He shook it and nearly collapsed. He stopped when he heard Vigil getting picked up by the colossal monster and shook himself back into reality. The warrior charged the Cyclops as he put his free hand over Vigil’s head. Before the monster could press down and crush the pony’s skull, Omior jumped from below and sliced the cyclops’ veins leading to his hand. Blood as thick as meat dripped down and the cyclops dropped Vigil as it screamed in agony. Omior helped Vigil to his feet and both jumped out of the way as the cyclops swung the bloody arm at them. Omior was now the prime target as Skull Crusher began attacking wildly. Omior could only manage to stay out of his range as Vigil tried to power up his horn for a spell. Vigil’s horn crackled and fizzed out as he kept trying to force a spell. He saw as Omior was swatted backwards, hitting a rock and dropping his battle axe and decided he might as well improvise. Skull Crusher walked towards Omior who was struggling to get to his feet. Right before the monstrosity swung a fist down to end the warrior, a sharp pain stabbed into it’s left calf. Vigil had used his horn quite literally in stabbing the cyclops. He jumped back as Omior got up. The Skull Crusher turned and swung his right fist down, just barely missing the green unicorn. Omior grabbed the battle axe with his right hand and swung it in a long arc, cutting both of the cyclops’ calves, the left calve dug deeper, nearly severing the entire foot. More of the thick blood pooled out as Skull Crusher dropped to it’s knees. Omior sprinted and sliced at the thing’s neck, severing the monstrosities spine from it’s head. The thing fell with one final cry of pain. The crowd was silent as they saw what happened. Omior felt another memory hit him after the beast fell. “You’ll never be good enough. You’ll always never be good enough.” Omior felt a rage like no other well up inside him, he swung the battle axe sloppily and repeatedly into the cyclops’ body. “It looks like I can’t even trust a behemoth of a creature like the Skull Crusher to kill you. I guess I’ll just have to do it myself,” Abal Listarr slithered out from the shattered door the cyclops came from. She looked at the injured warrior with mild interest. “You and your companion are harder to kill then what was expected. That will just make this fun,” she smiled as her gaze sharpened. Omior stopped his angered slashing to turn to the voice, his adrenaline rush was making his body shake rather violently so he allowed the axe’s head to lay on the ground as he watched the serpent lady. “And what would your name be?” Omior felt Vigil lean on his side, rather tired from the fight not moments ago finished. “My name isssss not important. All you need to know isssss that I sssshhhall be the one to.......kiiiillll you,” she lunged at Omior and dug her claws into his right arm. He howled in pain and backed off, dropping the battle axe by mistake. She began to circle the two as Omior got into a battle stance, Vigil rather deciding to keep his eyes on her for as long as possible. Listarr continued her talking as she picked and chose when to strike. “So you are the fabled warrior,” She struck at Omior’s back. He moved to the side but wasn’t quick enough and received a gash on his left side. “You are the one chosen by him? You can’t possibly hope to live up to his expectations...” She struck again ,this time at Vigil, slashing at his left hind leg. “You are no longer of use to us, and it seems you’re rather easy prey.” She smiled as she struck again at Omior. He managed to move in time to avoid it. The arena shook and the cheering crowds started to panic. The ceiling began caving in and the metal cage’s top crackled with a bunch of different glowing colors. The bars bent and shattered and large rocks from the ceiling began falling into the arena. “What isssss the meaning of thissss?!” Abal hissed as she avoided a falling rock. Omior and Vigil were barely keeping each other upright as they could only watch the ceiling crash down, revealing light from the outside. Omior watched as the snake woman struggled to reach them in order to kill them. She eventually had no choice but to turn and leave. “Next time you won’t be sssssssssso lucky.” She hissed before leaving the way she came in. One of the falling rocks, a much smaller one, hit Omior over the head, knocking him down to the ground. He tried to get up but he was hit with some more smaller falling rocks, his vision dazed as he tried to get his bearings but it was to no avail. He saw Vigil fall to the ground as well and the last thing Omior felt was immense pain and a feeling of weightlessness.