Chapter Fifty-nine
Somewhere in Tellius
Xekora
The dark clad historian strode out of the swatch of trees confidently, pack laden with treasures. Above, several bird-tribe Laguz turned back to their home, having successfully confirmed the stranger was on his way. As he walked, he made a mental checklist of what he had been out to get, and what he had managed to gather.
Galdr of Rebirth? Check. The Heron royalty were very grateful, if saddened, to hear of the fate of their fellow who died in Equestria. However, they were intrigued to hear of the existence of this Fluttershy girl, one who not only was chosen as worthy of inheriting their abilities and becoming an honorary Heron, but also was the result of a new Galdr composed by the lost princess. As such, they actually gave me all the Galdrar, under the condition that I give her one of the sending stones and put her in contact with the royalty.
They were also quite generous with their sending stones, seeing as they actually had more of the things up their sleeves than Spike had thought. Between the old dragon king and the heron Queen and Prince, I managed to snag a total of seven, not counting the one I have to give to the lovely lady Fluttershy. My dearest Trixie should have one, and Twilight will probably be charged with communications as well, so that leaves five stones to be given around Equestria.
Xekora could have teleported back home at any time, but he didn’t feel like leaving yet. He hadn’t been in the land of Tellius much in his time on this earth, and wanted to cruise around for a while and enjoy himself. It had been a full month since he left, but he was sure they could wait another hour or two. He started by kicking off the ground and zipping off towards the Grann Desert, an incredibly vast wasteland of sand in the dead center of the continent. Dark energy held him aloft, and he moved too fast to take in any of the surrounding trees, lakes, or towns below.
Soon only yellow dunes rolled beneath him, and the air grew distinctly warmer. There wasn’t much to look at, but it was a great place to take a joyride. Xekora slowed his flight to a halt near a slight rocky overhang, placing his pack underneath the shelf for safekeeping. Satisfied that it wasn’t going anywhere, he leapt into the air wildly, soaring on breaths of hot desert air, flying solely on dark power. He held out his arms like stabilizing wings, and simply allowed the wind to carry him wherever it would. He knew exactly where his things were, and wasn’t worried about being separated from them.
At last, Xekora decided to set down and rest for a moment, then return to Equestria. He began to cruise back to the place where he had left his pack, hitting the ground and rolling when he was almost there. He made a show of dusting himself off, despite the fact that his clothes remained spotless, and strode confidently up the side of the dune, over which he knew the pack would be.
He stopped short when he reached the peak. Over the rolling sands and before the rock, standing next to the pack, was a figure clad in an extremely ill-fitting black cloak. In a gloved hand was a single sending stone, obviously taken from the pack. The figure tossed it into the air once, the stone remained in the air for longer and twirled slightly more times than was physically possible, then fell back into the figure’s hand. The hood of the cloak was down, but the opening was faced towards Xekora, and he could sense the challenge there.
Xekora, however, did not feel fear from this man. He folded his arms, smiling, bemused and surprised, but not afraid.
The figure spoke in a low, dark-chocolatey voice, using precious little effort and yet having no difficulty being heard. “Xekora, old friend. It has been far too long.”
“Indeed it has...” Xekora agreed, stepping forward. “Now... what is it you’re calling yourself these days? Number One, was it?”
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“Trixie, what are you doing?!” Phil shouted, alarmed. The green-eyed creatures buzzed all around the clearing, but the space between the two was clear.
Trixie turned to Phil slowly, not at all startled by his appearance. The knife she held against her chest didn’t move either. She smiled weakly at him, her eyes half closed. “Do you know where we are, Phil?” She asked calmly. “Do you have any idea what ruin this is?”
Phil shook his head reluctantly. “Trixie, whatever this is, let’s just talk about it... Put the knife down.” He spoke as calmly as he felt, and as such, his words carried no real force.
His companion seemed to not even hear him. She continued speaking without lowering the weapon. “This ancient temple is more than six hundred years old, dating all the way back to The Crash, the cataclysmic event that gave birth to the world as we know it. This altar was a forgotten asset of the system governing the worlds back then. And this stone slab upon which I stand... Is another Quest Bed. This is a portal straight to Godhood, Phil.”
Realization hit Phil, hard. What he had been sensing in the nights before was Trixie sneaking away from the mansion to dig this artifact out of the ground. And now... Does she think she’s going to kill herself on that thing?! “Trixie, listen to me.” He said, his voice becoming more level. “I know the resistance is in a bad way right now. I know we need more power, and it might seem like a good idea to try and give yourself more. But please- you can’t risk your life like this! That thing probably doesn’t even work anymore!”
Mercifully, Trixie lowered the knife, but her eyes did not waver. She raised her other hand slowly, motioning to everything around her. “Do you see these bugs, Phil? The parasprites- a rare breed, scarcely seen away from the EverFree forest. And yet, here they are, gathered around the Quest Bed, longing to fulfill their ultimate destiny and lead the chosen hero to godhood. In each world there exists a creature similar to them- small, flying and luminescent, and they always gather when this grand destiny is about to be fulfilled.”
“Trixie, just think about this.” Phil pleaded. “Even if it did work, and you got that kind of power- what then? What kind of life would that be after the war? We can’t fight gods with more gods, Trixie- that’s the whole point of this thing! We have to free ourselves from the eternal rulers, and find another way to win!”
“Phil...” Trixie said, shaking her head, seeming disappointed that he was talking like he was. “Don’t you get it yet? We can’t afford to be the knight-in-shining-armor here. We can’t win if we try to keep the moral high ground. Celestia’s too good for that. If we want to beat her, we’re going to have to step up our game to her level, and if that means sacrificing myself... so be it. I don’t have any plans to rule after this- Hell, Xekora’s doing just fine with his immortality, so who’s to say I couldn’t do the same? And... if it really is that bad after we finish, then you can kill me afterwards. It would be a just death, it would work. But we need someone to take on this power, and I’m the only one who can.”
“Trixie, will you wake up?!” Phil shouted, hands at his side. Unbidden, they began to glow with blazing energy. The parasprites flitted here-and-there excitedly, fired up by the sparks flying between the two young missionaries. “You can’t throw your own life aside for this! We’re all risking our lives for this war, and you’re doing plenty! Don’t you want to see the world we will create when it’s over? Don’t you want to try and repair the life she took from you instead of only living to get revenge?!
“And anyway, remember what Xekora said? The Quest Beds don’t work properly anymore! None of them do! If you took your life now, it will have been pointless! Please, don’t do this! Just... Just come over here and give me that knife.”
For the first time, Phil saw the shadow of doubt flicker over Trixie’s face. She made no move, however, and simply lapsed into a moment of silent thought. Finally, she brought her eyes back to bear on Phil, a look that sent shivers down his spine. “It’s true that the normal godhood never went into effect, and a single person cannot any longer use the Quest Bed as it was meant to be used... But, we’ve seen that the Dual Godhood works just fine.”
Phil’s eyes widened in alarm, his jaw nearly dropping. Suddenly he felt very exposed atop the rocky ground. “If we take each other’s lives now, Phil, we can both become gods. Come down here, Phil. Join me, and together we can save this world, then watch it recover from Celestia’s wounds. We can be the guardians of the new world.”
“Trixie...” Phil began, hoping to help her see reason, but she was too far gone. Trixie was possessed with this singular desire, obsessed with seeing it through and seizing immortality. Without waiting for another word, she leapt at him, knife ablaze with fiery energy. Heart racing with fear, anger, and most of all sorrow at Trixie’s state of mind, Phil raised his own arms to his sides. His palms flared to life with a potent spell, and the twos’ eyes met, yellow and violet, a moment before they collided with each other.
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“How is it that you are here?” Xekora inquired. “By all accounts, you should still be sealed away.”
Number One merely chuckled, as though at a joke only he understood. “As you have likely already gathered, my old friend, I am not completely free. What you see before you is a shadow of myself, but I speak through it directly. Were you to remove this cloak, you would find little more than a ghost. However, several individual events have led up to me having enough power to do this much.”
“Do tell.” Xekora prompted, stalking over to the figure to retrieve his pack. While quite tall in his own regard, the cloaked figure had the height advantage over him by a few inches. “I may well have to use your techniques sometime in the future.”
“It began about eighteen years ago, with the birth of three children. One of them you may well know, the others you’re certain to not. My seal was gradually weakening over these centuries, but when one of these children was inducted into The Order- the group of like-minded individuals I have heralded together in recent years- my prison began its final downhill slide. As you can guess, when those fated weapons- the Elements of Harmony- took on new bearers, the seal took another considerable hit.”
“And by that logic...” Xekora concluded, “It’s in your best interest that the Moonlight Resistance succeeds. Because when Celestia ceases to exist, so too does her seal on you. Well played indeed.”
The shadow of Number One nodded in cheery confirmation, glad that Xekora understood. He stepped back from his pack slowly, coming to rest by the side of an adjoining sand dune. He folded his arms, and stated simply: “I want my sword back.”
Xekora cocked his head curiously, confused. “I’m sorry? You lost it? Well, I don’t have it.”
“It regrettably slipped from my grasp during mine and Celestia’s final battle, and in quite an oversized state too. I was sealed away before I could retrieve it and was lost, buried in both time and dirt. So much raw power was stored within that blade, though, it could not have remained lost forever.”
Xekora shook his head, sure that he didn’t know where the weapon was, but stopped suddenly before he could say anything. Number One lowered his head slightly, as though to grin mischievously, and cast out his hand. A thin, hazy smoke began to coil up around his fist, and it soon solidified into the form of an oddly shaped weapon. Three blades sprouted from its thick handle- one an axe, two like the blades of a scimitar or scythe.
Xekora recognized the weapon instantly. While the copy Number One held was smoky grey and somewhat insubstantial, he knew what the actual weapon looked like- blood red and abnormally large, the size of a two story building at its height. No normal human could use it in its state if it hadn’t been infused with the energy that it had, but Xekora knew that it had found it’s way into human hands. It was none other than the cursed Weapon, used by Macintosh of the Apple family.
Number One registered the revelation on Xekora’s face. He might have grinned wider. “Yes indeed, you know exactly where my sword is. As I said, I want it back.”
“It’s being used.” Xekora answered honestly, but vaguely. “I can’t just go up and take it from him. What do you think I’m going to do?”
“I don’t mean for you to do anything.” Number One answered, chuckling all the while. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be having my weapon back, and there’s naught you can do to stop me. I know exactly where it is just as well as you do, and by the time this cute little uprising is over, it will be back in my hands.
“Of course, I will be making no move to take it by force myself. You know as well as any that’s not my style. No, I just feel I should let you know, so you can watch helpless as I pry it from that farm boy’s already dead hands.” Number One finished, laughing as though he had told quite a funny joke.
Xekora’s mind was racing with possibilities, but one was at the front of his thoughts: Keep a close watch on that Macintosh boy. I can’t let him retrieve his weapon that easily. Xekora decided to change the subject, to hopefully prevent Number One from making any further promises. “So, this Order of yours. Tell me, what is it, really? I’ve been told you follow the Goddess, but... To be honest, mate, she doesn’t strike me as your type. What is this you’ve got going this time?”
“What point would there be in me telling you that, Xekora?” Number One teased. “You’re very observant to think there’s something going on behind the scenes, I’ll give you that, but I don’t think it would be very sporting for me to tell you exactly what I’m doing, don’t you agree? No, I’m not here to tell you my plans, but to send you on the way to some very important events getting ready to unfold... And also, an interesting tidbit for your precious history books.”
Xekora cocked his head, though was fairly confident that Number One had no new information for him that he hadn’t pieced together himself. The next thing the leader of The Order said shattered that confidence completely. “I’m going to tell you the deepest secret this world holds... How it came to be in the first place.”