Shadow Law trotted down the halls of the rather empty Mole King’s palace, having been summoned by his leader, Vandal. Though the cursed Dragon had declared that he was not their Lord or Master several times, it did not stop a few, more die hard zealots, from doing so. To everyone else, Vandal was their leader, and in some cases their father, for all orphans taken into the group were officially adopted by him.
There was no one Law respected more than Vandal, and had been one of his personal students for a long time. This made the pony proud. His own parents had joined when they realized the truth of the world and its nobility, and willingly joined to make the world a better place. Being born into Dark Phoenix was nothing special, but no one treated anyone else differently. They were all like a family.
A mirror on the wall caused Law to pause, and to inspect his armor. It was a new design to allow more freedom for a flier like Pegasi or Griffons, but still covered enough of the body to avoid damage. It was ingenious, but as a prototype, was rather itchy. He had volunteered to test the armor, and that meant wearing the mildly uncomfortable suit all day.
He ruffled his slate grey wings to try and get more comfortable, but the movement caused a new bout of itching. Groaning in annoyance, Law pushed some magic into his armor to create a barrier between himself and the metal. Satisfied, he checked on his appearance. His black mane and tail were combed and groomed properly, and he looked alright, as things went. The Alicorn struck a dashing figure in the mirror.
Shadow Law was one of the extremely few and rare Natural Born Alicorns, the result of just the right amount of genetic luck to produce one such as himself. The only other Natural Born that was alive besides him at the moment was the reviled Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Shadow Law was determined to personally reduce the number down to just one.
Turning away from the mirror, Law trotted down the rest of the hallway, and stopped in front of a large, thick stone door. It had been carved long ago by the Moles, and had old decorations and symbols engraved into it.
Law always felt a twinge of emotions when he looked at it. It was one of the only things left of an entire culture, an entire species, that had been destroyed by a war made by foolish choices of their leaders. It was a testament to the evils of royalty and the noble class, but also a monument to a people that were dead and would never be remembered, save for these artifacts.
Vandal himself had once known some Moles, long before the war and the coming of the Diamonds Dogs that had used their foul poisons. Law recalled something from one of the lessons. The Dogs had used something called a “Nuclear Explosion” that was the source of the taint on the land above, made from a cursed material so toxic that even standing near it was dangerous. Vandal had warned Law and his other students of it.
“They were clever, those Diamond Dogs. Knew how to dig up the uranium and figured out how to use it. But they made weapons with it, instead of finding a more productive use. Even poison can be used as a cure, if correctly applied.”
Law remembered those words. It had been a lesson worth learning.
As his nostalgia faded, Law rapped on the door with his hoof, and his mentor’s voice called out, “Enter!” from beyond the stone. With his hoof, he pushed it open, the building techniques of the Moles allowing even a Unicorn to open the massive doors with little to no physical effort. And as an Alicorn, Law had the strength of an Earth Pony, so there were no problems.
The room he had entered was sparsely decorated, only a large four poster bed and an enormous stone table the only items of significant note. The bed had rough cotton sheets, plainly dyed in yellow and orange, while a few white feather stuffed pillows sat around on the mattress. The table was a solid block of granite, the legs hewn and hacked to resemble dragons holding up the table’s top, which was round and had no edges. “To symbolize equality,” Vandal had explained, long ago. Papers, mostly likely field reports and status updates, covered a portion of the table, where Vandal himself sat.
His chair was a finely made piece, its size making it look like a throne, but it lacked any decorations and designs except for an emblem of a black phoenix surrounded by black flames branded into the back of the chair.
Looking around the room, Law saw Vandal’s robes hanging from a coat rack near the bed, as well as a massive mirror that Law was certain had not been here last time he had visited, about three days ago. Its glass was smoky grey and fogged, showing no reflections of any kind, save the light coming from enchanted crystals hanging in a small chandelier over the bed.
Without looking over, Vandal raised a claw and pointed to a wooden bench placed near his own chair, on the left side of the table.
“Sit,” the cursed Dragon commanded, and Law moved to obey, sitting down on the bench. Chairs for bipedal creatures such as Diamond Dogs and Minotaurs were situated around the round stone table alongside benches for the four legged members of Dark Phoenix , such as Ponies, Zebras, and Griffins. The wood of the seats were worn and smooth with years of use, and were comfortable enough, though Law got cramps every so often after using them for an hour or more.
“Your trio did not complete their mission,” Vandal said, and Law felt a chill run through him. “They were bested by a grief fueled Magic Burst from their target, and by a baby Dragon who got a message to Princess Celestia.” The Dragon turned to look at his Alicorn student, who squirmed under the scrutiny of the golden eye and the scarred, black one.
“You said they could handle it, and that you had trained them to be the best.”
“I have no excuses, Vandal. Their training was of the highest quality, and they should not have had trouble, unexpected it may have been,” Law said. The informal use of his mentor’s name may have seemed rude, but it was the Dragon’s wish that he have no titles, expect Sir or Mr., when being spoken to. As such, those closest to him used his name without fear of reprimand.
“They all managed to avoid capture,” Vandal said, answering Law’s unasked question. “They are currently en route back here, to be treated. The Unicorn, Muddy Ink, I believe, is suffering from severe Mana Burn from using a high tier spell right after being struck with an emotional discharge. The others will recover naturally, only scrapes and broken bones from their encounter.” At this, Law let out a sigh he had been keeping in. Vandal rose from his seat, and stepped over to the side of his student.
“Your love for the Pegasus, Sundrop, is honest and pure, but I do not want it to interfere with your and her duties. That is to not say I am forbidding you from rolling in the hay,” at this, Shadow Law’s head snapped up to stare at his mentor, who simply smirked, “but I want you to remember who you are and what your purpose is.” At this, Vandal’s eyes drifted to Law’s flank, where his Cutie Mark was.
“You are my best student, and the greatest soldier we have. You, Shadow Law, are a symbol of the movement. You are the Paragon of Revolution. I cannot lose you, or have your heart break.” Law bowed his head in understanding, before taking a look at his own Cutie Mark.
Shadow Law had been born into the revolution. His parents had escaped the cruel oppression of the Nobility and fled here, thanks to agents of Dark Phoenix. He’d been born here three years after, and while everyone was surprised to see that he was an Alicorn, he was not treated any differently.
When he was nine, he had been on the Magical Firing range, taking pot shots at wooden cut outs of nobles and crown wearing figures. One of the other Unicorns had dared him to hit the crown off 100 targets. He had accepted, and the shooting match had become a spectacle of sorts, children of all races and ages watching and cheering as Shadow Law knocked the crowns off with precision. After winning the challenge, some of the children, the pony ones, had become excited, and pointed at his flank. Confused, he looked to see what the commotion was. He had gained his Cutie Mark! He hadn’t felt the tingling due to his exhaustion from using too much magic.
Overjoyed, he had rushed home with some other kids to show his parents, and while he’d run home, some of the adults had stared at him and his new Mark. He hadn’t understood why they stared, or why his parents had been so surprised that his father fainted in shock. Confused, Shadow had to wait an hour in his room before a knock came and his mother said someone wanted to meet him.
Law had opened up the door to see Vandal himself standing in the door way, looking down at the young Alicorn. Upon seeing his Cutie Mark, the imposing Dragon had fallen to his knees and cried.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Law had asked.
“I weep because I am so very happy! Your Mark is glorious, and a symbol of our honorable cause.” He wiped his tears. “But I cry because I am so very sad. The Mark you possess will bring you hardships and difficulty, and despite the glory of it, I would never ask another to carry that kind of pain.”
Later, Vandal had told his parents he would train and teach Law personally with his other disciples. His parents had cried, or “shed liquid pride” as his father called it, and after a dinner of all of Law’s favorite foods, the Dragon had left them.
That day, Shadow Law got his Cutie Mark; a black phoenix, with wings flared out and head rearing back to scream, and surrounded by a wreath of black fire. From that day on, Shadow Law had carried the emblem of Dark Phoenix upon himself. He had been marked as the Paragon of Revolution. It was his destiny to end the Royalty and their oppression. It was his duty. The Cutie Mark said so.
Law was shaken from his thoughts by Vandal’s hand nudging him.
“They have arrived, my student. Go to them,” Vandal said, smiling softly as he informed the young Alicorn his team had returned. Law rose and took off, not quite galloping but certainly not walking.
Vandal smiled, but it turned into a dark, brooding scowl. He looked over at the mirror, where hours ago he had spoken to the Princesses of Equestria. He clenched his fists, staring at the artifact, but release a sigh and a gout of golden flames. He uncurled his fists, and absent mindedly stroked the torn flesh of his right eye with a claw.
“I have plans for you, dear princesses. I will drive you to despair and I will grind your hopes and dreams to dust. This I swear, on my name and the names of all who have suffered under your arrogance.” Dark thoughts swirled in his head, and he grinned as evil plans came forth in his mind.
“Oh, yes, I have plans.” With that, Vandal sat back down in his wooden throne, and wrote out his designs for the world, smiling yet silent as the grave.