The western wing of Canterlot Castle lay mutilated and scorched. Priceless crystal chandeliers lay in shattered piles leaving hazardous shards on the marble floor. Splinters that used to tables made of the oldest rarest woods embedded themselves into the walls in clusters. Unstable portions of the ceiling hung from far above releasing showers of dust as they gave out and landed in dull thuds. Forlorn this image echoed throughout the halls and open rooms of the western wing. Left to their decay the creaking walls and hissing dying fires softly blanketed the wing with their soft elegy. Their rhythm was kept in time with the melodic stomps and drags that Celestia hooves made as she walked through the destruction around her.
Sweat poured from Zachery’s face as he listened while Celestia stumbled further from him. Straining his ears he refrained from winching at Celestia’s periodic angry brays. He leaned against the wall of a near collapsed servant’s tunnel, the cut stone refusing to cool his back and overworked wings.
Close, too close. He came too close to suffocating in those enclosed hallways. Smashing the windows did help to vent the heat from Celestia’s rage, but the heated air was still stiffing. It dazed him, and for a scattered terrible moment he lost himself in the smoke and brightness.
Thankfully, he recovered in time to avoid Celestia's next attack, and was able to use her temporary fire induced blindness to slip away. Now she stood angrily in the hall her ears swiveling feverishly as she tried to pick up any sounds that would reveal him. Needless to say he kept his mouth shut as he waited for his heart beats to slow and the tight panic in his chest lessened.
He couldn’t keep this up. Sooner or later he was going to slip, because his mind kept drifting from keeping ahead of the attacks being thrown at him to what was attacking him.
He fought back the shiver that ran down his back. The things it said when Twilight couldn't hear gnarled horribly in his head.
‘I know you’re alone, I know that you are afraid, and yet you stand against me. I don't understand, don't you want to avoid the fate of that one? The white haired fool who was impaled on horn of his most hated enemy.' She smile sweetly, failing to imitate reassurance, 'I can save you from such a terrible fate. So, please. Let me save you.’
Dread rolled within him at her soothing voice. Inky and tar-like it had slowed his movements and froze him with panic. Being threatened was nothing new to him neither was being tempted. Her manipulation offered nothing new to him, other then the implications behind her words.
Her words. The words and reasons that she tried to draw him in with were impossible. They had to be impossible. The leader she spoke of died countless years ago. He died because even though humans had escaped the Demon King’s domain on the most wretched of rafts, the ponies still chased them. For that reason, he and his closest two friends had turned back to ensure a safer escape for the survivors.
Every human knew of the Three. The records from that time may be old and warped by countless retelling, but the basics to them had always stayed the same. They knew how they looked, how they acted, and their personal reasons for starting that monstrous revolt. Humankind knew many things about the Three, but they did not know how they died. From what Rarity had told him, Celestia's knowledge of humans was structured on the vaguest of myths.
The white haired one. The leader, the first, the very spirit of preservation, or if you will of vengeance hated much, but he only hated one creature above all others, and that was the Demon King himself. Zachery had never felt such an aversion to saying the demons name, but if even a fraction of what he knew on naming malevolent spirits was true. Well, he was very much going to keep the demon's name away from his lips.
He had panicked then, and barely held now. The thing within Celestia had spoke so confidently, too confidently, for it's words to come from anything other than a first hand experience. The trails of anger when it referred to the first, the secure tone it had when explaining his death had been all to real. He nearly ran then, hell, every instinct in him screamed at him to run now.
The fact that the demon had somehow returned from the veil of death was horrifying enough. The knowledge that the demon had access to the strength in Celestia’s body left him cold and sick. Peace only came from the fact that if the demon had mastered Celestia's power it would have already killed him. As it stood now there was still a chance, and as long as there was a chance to stop this he had to take it.
Zachery laid his head against slowly cooling stone, tired he closed his eyes and he pulled on the angry swirl of magic within him. He bit his tongue as the magic within him leaked out the tender channels running through him. It hurt. Of course it did, just because he could channel enough magic to scorch a village didn't mean that his body was trained to do so. He had channeled more magic in the last couple of months then he had his entire life. He really didn't want to know what would happen if he reached his limit, but he couldn’t stop, not now. Not with so much riding on him.
He didn't know the first thing about banishing demons. He could barely speak to what had been in all intents a very benevolent spirit. However, what he did know was most demons needed to possess a living host. All he had to do was kill the host. Well that plan was all good and dandy as a thought but nearly impossible to put into practice seeing how his body ached. His main magic lines hurt to much to be of any use. His changeling magic was good for speed, not so much for strength. Which really only left...
He let out a breath slow and calmer then he felt. Using his latent was a stupid, desperate half-formed idea. He wouldn't be able to do any spell-casting, but there was no other to get the boost he needed without shredding his pathways. Resolving himself to his decision he visioned his primary magic channels, left them well enough alone, and dug deeper to touch something much more dormant.
The humans that lived during the rebellion made many dark deals with the desperate and dying around them. It was the only history lesson that he was actually excited to hear about and in turn the only lesson that he paid close attention to. To think that so much of the magic humans gained was given to them voluntarily. Common gifts from The Changeling Bond. Sparse gifts from the Diamond Dog Truce. Rare gifts from the Dragons, and and rarer still from the Griffons. Hateful wishes for revenge, the Sea Serpents Curse. Who wouldn’t be interested in such things?
The bones in his arms and legs shifted and cracked. He flinched as his nails hardened into claws and the bones in his fingers, hands, arms ruptured and molded into something he hadn’t experience in years. The change was unpleasant, it was ugly, and slow enough to condemned a person to death in a straight fight. It was necessary if he wanted to break Celestia’s neck.
Rolling his limbs he pushed down the whispers of doubt clinging to his ears. There would only be one shot at this. A solid flight straight at Celestia's puppet-like body. He didn't have the fluidity in this form for anything more. Grounding down the last tendrils of fear threatening his mind he slipped out into the nearly rubble free hall. His pupils widened taking all the light the broken windows freely gave him. His feet, infinitely softer then hooves, masked his approached from Celestia.
She was facing the wrong way, smoke hung in the air covering his sent, and she was oblivious to his intent.
She wouldn’t realize he was there until it was too late. He was all to happy to fall into the script that his training installed in him. Even as fear shook him he couldn't help but think how nice it was put what he trained most of his life to do in practice. A silent countdown started in his head as he picked up speed getting close enough to to make the maximum amount of damage with his attack.
One.
He was in the air, powerful diamond dog muscle abused the limits of his changeling wings, moving them at frightening speeds.
Two.
Celestia turned around the shock evident on her face as she tried and failed to react to his incoming onslaught. He pulled his leg back struggling against the headwind that he created. His eyes wide, taking in the shock on her matted stolen face.
Three.
With the bone density of a long extinct diamond dog denomination, and the fear of failure backing him, he shot his leg at Celestia's neck the broad-side of his foot connecting fully to the space below her jaw. An attack that he knew would completely sever the head on any creature, or at least pulverize the bones in their neck. His lips thinned to a tight line at the sickening thump that assaulted in his ears as Celestia's head pitched harshly to the side.
His leg rested heavily against the indent in Celestia’s neck while his other leg held him up as he grabbed his breath. The force from his attack dispelled whatever little latent magic Celestia had left. Her mane sweaty, and string-like shrouded her face, sparing him from looking at the warm wet blood running down his leg. With a sigh he removed his leg from still Celestia’s standing body. He had to think of a way to explain Celestia's death to Twilight. While a broken neck can be easily explained away with a fall, dragging the body to a flight of stairs without being caught was going to be tricky.
His thoughts stalled when Celestia moved.
Her head raised, a tangled web of hair parting down her face. Her head stiffly turned to him the last of her hair revealing her face, from her clenched teeth, the spittle not blood that dribbled down his leg, and her eyes. Inflamed veins against too much whites, and impossibly small pupils. Her lips snapped up in a mockery of a smile that was nothing but teeth.
Cold dread told him that he was not strong enough to kill her.
Zachery swung his leg down, and brought his fist hard under her chin small fizzling black sparks falling out his mouth. The explosion rocked them, and sent the channels in his arm ablaze, yet it wasn’t nearly as strong as the one he created earlier. It had to be enough! It was cover, and he could escape. He needed to-!
Tattered wings twitched pathetically. His pupils contorted to slits as they tracked the scraps of chitin that trailed behind him.
He had put his wings through too much force.
“Human.” The demon's smile widen, “It seems that you are grounded.” It tilted her head, face a mask of playful mocking confusion, unconcerned that he the attack he used should have jostled its host's brains, “Now I know those are not the only wings you have, so, why don’t you fly away?”
Zachery stepped back, clawed hands twitching as he tried of thinking of a way, anyway, out.
“Fly away little human~.” The puppet sang. Mothering and soft, nearly a lullaby, “Fly away on your black feathers. Fly, and show me your stolen wings.” Her smile held, plastered thickly on her face, “Show them to me so that I can return you to your proper state.”
He slammed his hands together, his eyes focused on the thing before him. He shouldn’t attempt a spell. His magic wasn’t settled, and the diamond dog strength he had pulled on made everything that much harder to control. Not to mention activating more then two types of magic, one that he never had mastered, went against every fundamental rule on spell-casting he had ever learned.
The shell that was the princess of the sun reached a worn and painfully chipped hoof toward him, and realized that he did not care.
Hot chaotic swirls twisted up his arms, and settled heavy and hateful in his chest. He pushed past the pain, and made the insubordinate mess his hands work. Shiny black lightning leapt from his reddened hands, and for a panicked seconded the lightning arched sharply missing Celestia completely. Curses dropped from his mouth as he demanded the spell to obey him. Celestia slumped as the squealing bolt rounded back and slammed into her side. Black veins of electricity hatefully pulsated over her body, and the smell of burning fur and ozone choked the air as her body trembled.
It did not scream. The body’s eyelids twitched, and it shivered as pure volts raged throughout its host. Compulsory tears leaked from her eyes, but it did not scream. It stared, insulted at his attempt. Even more so that the body it inhabited refused to move. At least until the spell ran out.
Zachery decided waiting for that was directly against his best interests. He sprinted down the hall, the waning pulse that signaled the disintegration of his recklessly made spell motivating him. His head pivoted madly as he pass countless unfamiliar hallways and doors trying to find a place to retreat. Of course the architects had to make the castle look so damn orderly. He couldn't place where he was or where he was going for all he knew he could have looped back. It the mist of his disorientation he nearly passed something new. Two inexplicably large double doors that held the promised of a spacious room.
He quickly slipped through the doors, nearly slipping on the wooden floor of what was a darkened ballroom. Thankfully the room was empty due to, he noted, the process of remodeling. The ceiling was crisscrossed with wooden beams supported by decorated columns and shaky put together scaffolding. A thin layer of dust coated the white sheets covered tables and stacked chairs, from the silvers of light that came through the gaps in the heavy curtain he could see how dusty the room's air was.
The puppet’s wrathful scream reached him.
Fighting the shudder that tried to drag its way up his back, Zachery switched his green tattered wings for heavy black feathers. His teeth nearly punctured through his lips as pain exploded on his back. Everything he activated fought within him as if irritated at being mixed so thoughtlessly. There was no way that he could shift, or do magic again today, or a few days after that.
Thankfully this forms greater muscle strength made getting off the ground less difficult, and in a few wing beats he was air born. His hands gripped the planks above and he pulled himself up among the darken corners that made up the ceiling. Hunching behind a pillar and pulling his wings closer he melded into the darkness around him.
His breath caught in his throat as Celestia slammed bodily through the doors shattering them. Celestia's eyes scrutinized the room, her stare jumped from corner to corner, but she did not see him. She breathed heavily scattering the dusty air violently adding sound into the oppressive room. Slowly her breaths calmed leaving nothing but a horrible stillness in its place. A small sincere small crossed her face as she dragged on the shreds of a motherly disposition, the tears in her amour giving glimpses of wrongness.
“Is this any way to treat a princess?” It said, gentle and sweet, scratchy and wrong, “What would my subjects say if they saw you now?”
Zachery kept his mouth shut not attempting to reply to the thing before him even if he could force the infliction of his voice to mask where he hid.
“Such a foolish human.” It said, walking into the ballroom ears twitching sporadically as Celestia's face stayed peaceful, “How can I help you if you don't talk to me.”
While she talked, Zachery search from something, anything to use against her. His hands brushed against a cold and cylinder object. A curtain rod, old, decorated and heavy. The very definition of a makeshift weapon. Only problem was that it was in a pile with some other metal rods. He grimaced, metal sliding across metal make a very distinctive traceable sound. The demon would find him immediately. Unless, unless it was distracted by something else.
“You're not Celestia.” He snapped, his voice came from everywhere the echoing spaciousness of the ballroom further disorientating its direction.
The beast stopped in the middle of the hall. Slowly it scanned the walls, corners, and floor and still did not see him, “I am Celestia.”
“I know what you are!” Zachery hissed as he freed the curtain rod, thankfully his voice drowned out the displacement of metal and he gripped his new-found weapon, “You are not your daughter!”
For a moment the puppet stood still. Its face blank of emotion eyes dull of life, and then it smiled. “I am Celestia.” Shakily Celestia's posture straightened as she held her head high a single hoof hovered proudly off the ground, and with her gaze relaxed it spoke, “All I needed was a thought. One doubt, one moment of terror of becoming like the beast my dear student described,” The demon spread Celestia's wings large, magnificent, ragged, “and I became the Celestia that I was meant to be. I will be the ruler that she was destined to be.” Her cold eyes held nothing, “The ruler that I raised her to be.”
Zachery kept his back against the outcropping, internally screaming at his rising panic to stay down before throwing his voice again. He needed to focused, the bare markings of a plan was forming in his head. He needed that thing to stay distracted, and he needed his own mind to stop wandering now, “Celestia was afraid of becoming like you, and you used her doubt to take her over, didn't you?”
The creature laughed, “I gained control because for one moment she entertained the idea that I was right.” The body's head heaved strangely in its dry mirth. Failing, or rather not caring to act normal since it had no creature to deceive, “For her it was a small lapse of sanity. Barely a whisper. It came and went so fast that I almost missed it. If I were to guess the thought scarcely registered in her conscious.” The creature chuckled the tone weaving between the light pearls of femininity and a timbre that clawed at the back of his spine.
“So you killed her to gain her body.” Zachery stated, nail turned claws making up for the friction that the cold sweat on his hands lost.
“I put too much effort into my greatest creation to kill her now. No, Celestia is simply sleeping, she will wake once I am done with you.” The puppet’s head jerked a snarl twisted on her lips, “My kingdom will not tolerate rebellion.” Celestia’s hoof slammed violently against the dulled wood, and a shudder ran through the coarse of Zachery's body at the sound of splintering wood, “You know what your audacity has sentenced you to. None of your race is ignorant of our chastisements.”
The puppet staggered through the room, keeping up the appearance of royalty even as its hooves slide on chalky wood. Silently, ever so carefully Zachery left the safety on the stone pillar to inched through the shadows as he followed the puppet’s stride.
The puppet’s ear flicked, its head snapped back, and unrestrained fire burned. Zachery planted his feet, his throat tightening as the misguided spell came nowhere near him.
Few tense seconds passed as charred wood fell from the ceiling breaking the silence with its crackling embers. The puppet nickered in distaste, “You humans remain disgustingly hard to kill.” Rag-doll-like its head swiveled taking in the ballroom and its dust and muted beauty, “I chased your kind from the center of my kingdom to the sea, only to find that you found a way to cross the ocean. It mattered not, our boats were the fastest in the world. We would regain our glory, even if I had to kill and breed a hundred new generations of humans.” The demon snorted hatefully, "Yet, our victory was stolen from us, do you want to know how?"
His breath caught at the stillness that the beast held. The creature’s words rung painful and enticing in his head. He wanted to hear what the demon had to say. His limbs ached, his head pounded, and fear nearly paralyzed him whenever the puppet's head moved a sliver in his direction, but by the Three he wanted to know! No one knew what happened after they turned back, and he knew that the demon was baiting him to slip up, but he wanted to know.
The beast prickled, its anger growing as it spoke, “My ponies were attacked again. Those creatures that dared to disrupt my order, my peace, those three returned, and my kingdom’s livelihood escaped.” The creature breath came out laboured, voice struggling to match the limitations of its puppets lips, “Killing them gave us little peace. We tore apart him, and we cleaved the bitch a thousand times, but the last one. The last insolent, fool that had no right to even look at us. I tried to give him an honourable death all he had to do was lie at my hooves and die. Do you know what he did?”
Zachery forced his limbs still. Fear kept a person alive, but panic killed. He held to that as unbridled flames burned hotly around the puppet. More than ever he knew that only way to survive this was to disrupt the demon's control on Celestia's magic. He held still, and he waited for the demon to slip.
“That peon stab me with a hidden blade!” The puppet thundered, “He robbed me of my strength, and I was never able walk properly again, let alone campaign. Without my guidance we lost everything. The trail of destruction your kind left made it impossible for us to rebuild. We lost too many, and the ones that were left were hunted and killed by the creatures that refused to leave my domain. In a matter of years my kingdom was shattered and my ponies scattered.” The creature voice pitched and became layered with tones that shouldn't exist, “My crown was a joke and the number of those that still followed me were laughable in size! Everything I did, all the dark magic’s I pursued to live longer, meant nothing!”
Slowly the demon's breaths sharp breaths calmed and the flames lowered, “I was reduced to an old stallion that could barely lift his own head on his death bed. However, before then I had the perfect daughter, and with her, and what is left of my loyal subjects I can…” The king trailed, and a smile crossed the puppet's face “It has been too long since I spoke to a creature. Here I am entertaining a dead slave.” The demon's head pitched to the side and up, and its eyes made contact with Zachery's.
The air pressure dropped as oxygen was eaten to fuel something monstrous. Acting quickly, Zachery drop from the pillars and fell toward the puppet. Fire, heat, and death screamed around him, and the demon's vision was blinded by its host's magic. Zachery held the curtain rod over his head both of his hands blistering at the powerful grip they had on the weapon as he spun with the heat of the attack. The demon’s onslaught ended and it looked up to see Zachery bring down the curtain rod hard against the base of the puppet’s horn.
The scream, they, it made…
It took everything Zachery had not to cover his ears. He knew that the unicorn horn was a weak point, but the way that they cried out nauseated him with its intensity. Though at least she couldn’t-
Two reddish twitching eyes glare hate at him through a mess of mane, and golden magic sparked.
Zachery held the rod in front of him in a crude attempt to protect himself. Unstable, ugly magic erupted around him shaking the hall as it tore into the wooden floor. His wings held tightly against his back as he wished that her magic wouldn’t hurt him badly enough to prevent escape.
His wish was in vain as not Celestia’s magic did not touch him. Even though he was close enough to reach out and tap her with his makeshift weapon.
The puppet’s hooves slammed harshly against the broken floor in indignation, and it lowered its head sharp horn aiming at his throat. Unbalanced the puppet charged at him and Zachery swung at its legs. Celestia's body went sprawling across the mangle floor it shrieked, whether in pain or aggravation Zachery did not know, and he didn’t wait to find out.
He launched himself across the ball room, his eyes focused only on the large bay window before him. His eyes shutting tight to kept glass shards out as he crashed through and swung under the windows ledge. His clawed hands sunk deep into the castle's concrete shell, and he closed his eyes again as the puppet slam through what was left of the window, and fell.
Celestia body twisted through the air as it fell. The puppet master clearly did not know how its host wings worked, but it was determined and soon stopped it's descent, lopsided wing beats barely keeping it up. The demon manically searched the sky, and not seeing him it raged.
“Slave!”
Zachery crept through the broken window leaving the puppet to its screams, and sat heavily on the wooden floor.
His body ached, from the magic flowing in his veins to his arms and legs showing their displeasure at his rapid transformation. All he needed to do was caught his breath then he could think of a way to kill Celestia, to defeat Conquering Wind.
His lips pulled up into a smile and a certain hysteria tried to bubble out his throat.
What the hell was he doing?
His wings dropped beside him and he held his hands over his mouth to stop the manic laugh trying to escape. He was going to die. He couldn’t fight the Demon King by himself. No matter what he boasted as a dumbass recruit in boot camp.
His would die in vain, and they wouldn’t even find bones to bury. Of course now his head was filled with every last possible thing that could happen if the Demon King managed to corner him. Why did he let Elizabeth tell him about her studies? His stomach decided that it was a good time to lurch, and he found himself holding something other then laughter down. No, throwing up now would be a bad idea. So, if his stomach could listen to him and stop twisting.
But, no his stomach had a good reason to rebel and it wouldn't stop because King Conquering Wind was back, and wanted to personally kill him.
To think his childhood night-terrors did nothing to prepare him for this.
He dropped his head into his hands and willed himself to think. He was in an unfamiliar castle with a literal demon that had no problem doing that to his own daughter. He couldn't fight the demon alone, but where the hell was he going to find-
Discord's words came back to him.
There was a submarine filled with Standing Refuge's finest off the coast. If he could just make it till nightfall the darkness would hide him long enough to get to find it. The submarine would be brimming with the Peliagia navy all of them nervous and waiting for any type of abnormality. All he had to do was dive bomb the water until one of them came up to see what’s triggering their sonar. It would be swift and easy and-
He pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes.
It was a terrible idea. Celestia’s magic controlled the Sun, and the king was a hold of that. If the demon was pushed and had the time he would make it so that the night wouldn’t come. Nothing like a huge unexplained fast moving thing to catch the attention. He couldn’t fly out of this, and he didn’t know enough of Canterlot’s streets or Equestia proper to make the journey by foot. He would be a sitting duck.
Biting the inside of his cheek he nearly pierced it. Every second he wasted the demon got a little more used to its body.
He couldn’t win, and he couldn’t retreat.
His wings pulled taunt against his back as he stood up, and turned back to the window. The sound of the Celestia’s borrowed wing beats loud in his ears as he stood on the windowsill. He leaned out easily picking out the puppet’s still erratic but improving flight. The puppet gaze was pointed to the ground at a family of griffins laughing as they walked the castle grounds.
The puppet stared at them as if not quite understanding the purpose of their existence. He spotted a flash of blue and every colour as Rainbow Dash flew toward the family only to stop as the Puppet pulled its wings back and prepared to dive.
Stupid, this was the stupidest conscious thing that he had ever done.
From the back of his throat a growl emerged loud enough to grab the puppet’s attention and only its attention. The puppet looked up to see him perched on the windowsill, and he raised his wings arching them above his head and flex breathing in to puff the feather’s out and appear bigger.
He pulled back his lips and snarled powerful and loud. Pulling hard to keep his rage up, and to make his eyes glow with changeling power, he provoked the demon in the way that would anger the creature the most.
He breathed, “History had always painted you as weak, and here you are too afraid to face me.” His wings ruffled as he challenged humanity’s night terror looking down on it as his weaker.
The demon screamed and Zachery fell back through the window, wings taking him further into the ballroom with a few powerful beats. Vaguely he could hear surprised exclamations coming from the griffins outside and for a brief worrisome moment he thought that maybe the puppet didn’t take the bait…
The puppet launched itself through the window and landed awkwardly on its feet, as if the switch from flying to standing was just a little too much. Legs giving out, and regaining strength as it stumbled forward the creature yell, shrieked, cursed, “Human!”
By then Zachery was already through the ballroom door and down the hall.
In the long run, it was better to keep the demon angry and unfocused. He would rather fight a creature that didn't have control now then to wait for it to master its power. If he could just distract it until he found something sharp enough…
He took the corner sharply, and tripped over an obstruction in his path. The body gave way and they went sent sprawling down the glossy untouched marble. Zachery stood up, and his eyes widened at the sight of Twilight shakily getting to her hooves.
Twilight held a hoof to her head, and blurry she looked at him, “Zachery-?”
He picked her up and rolled into one of the servant passages. There was a small dark depression in the side of the wall and hopefully if he crouched down and brought his wings around them it would conceal them. He held Twilight’s mouth shut as she fidgeted in the near total darkness his wings created, and he could clearly see the indignation that she had for this situation.
Twilight’s ears perked up at the heavy cracking hoof beats crashing down toward them. The sound of the irregular stomps stilled her, and they both held their breath as the puppet ran past them.
Zachery opened his wings and dumped Twilight unceremoniously on the floor. He stood up and inched toward the opening the passageway, and seeing that the puppet was gone he breathed out. It was gone but it wouldn’t be long until it figured the trick they pulled.
Annoyed, he turned to Twilight, who was looking at him weirdly for some reason-
Oh.
Zachery flexed his arms looking at muscles that was very much not there before strain, and at his nails that now dipped dangerously into the claw category.
Twilight gaped at him, and for once he was thankful that he couldn’t understand Equestrian-
Dryness spread through his mouth, and concern on Twilight’s face at his shrinking pupils didn't register.
He couldn’t understand Equestrian. The words that they spoke sounded like nonsense to him. Just a mix of snorts, whinny’s, and nickers fused with something that was very much unknown to humanity. Of course he understood the few words that Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie taught him, but that was only a small sample of a whole language.
He couldn’t understand Equestrian.
So why could he understand the Demon King?
He stumbled and nearly fell as something pushed roughly into him. Twilight stared at him her worry and confusion mixing into each other.
“Zachery, pain?” Twilight said looking him up and down.
He shook his head. Not now, later. He’ll think about it later. Right now he had to stop the Demon King before it gained more control. Which will now be harder to do because a certain princess stupidly decided to come back. “Twilight, no pain Sun!” He hissed under his breath.
“Twilight, no pain Sun.” Twilight repeated back to him eyes filled with a determination that can only exist in someone who very well knew their limits and planned to work around them.
The question on his lips was ripped away by the thunder that echoed down the hall and nearly deafened him with its intensity. Electricity settled heavily in the air prickling the hairs on his arms.
Twilight stiffened a grimace pulling at her lips, “Moon, pain Sun.”