//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 - Detention // Story: Essence of the Night Stalker // by Merc Scar //------------------------------// A slow dripping sound roused Micheal from his unconscious state; the drops sounded like claps of thunder against his ears as he became more aware. Every part of him ached as if he'd been dragged over the roughest mountain, then beaten. A headache pounded at his skull like a heavy drum. Micheal felt a crunching sensation under him as he shuffled about. Micheal eyes cracked open to a sparse brick cell, rusting iron bars split the room in half; his side had a small cot filled with musty hay and a rotting blanket over top, a pair of dishes lay near the bars, one with murky water while the other had a chunk of stale bread on it. The other half of the cell had old rickety table with a small candle flickering away while a lantern hung from the roof. Micheal groaned as he tried to rise up to get to the water, yet his body felt heavier; and that was taking into consideration his fatigue. Looking to his side he saw a long bony limb with feathers coating the upper portion while the lower was bare and leathery extend away from him. Perplexed Micheal looked to his other side and again the same limp extension. “Strange these look like bat wings, but where'd they come from,” Micheal mumbled his thought aloud, unable to think from his headache. “Wait what he hell, these are attached to me!” Micheal exclaimed, fatigue forgotten he shot up, wildly looked at his new appendages. His sudden burst of activity cause him to give a mighty heave with his wings sending him straight into the roof, causing him to nearly knock himself out and extinguish the candle on the table. He began to see splotches of color in his vision as his head rolled side to side. Micheal was barely aware of the door slamming open and more horse creatures charging into the room. Some had horns, others had feathery wings and some had none, but all wore the same attire, golden plated armor. Micheal could make out one shouting something, but was unable to understand exactly what it was saying. _____ Micheal had been laying around in the cell for sometime after the guards had burst in. When he had finally regained his senses, he'd drunk the water – though it did little to relieve his thirst – and returned to his cot. The guard on the other hand scrutinised his every movement, if it was too sudden they'd all brandish their weapons as if he were going to break out. Now that he was wide awake and his aches and pains had turned to dull throbs, he began to experiment with his new appendages; he started out extending out fully then tucking them in to his sides, then raising and lowering them. What was it that ratman said...fuck I forgot his name...something about being able to absorb the powers of creatures that this thing I am was meant to hunt, Micheal asked himself. Am I supposed to be hunting these sentient unicorn, pegasus, horse things? By the eternal night you're pathetic, another voice, feminine and scathing resounded in his head. I thought you might actually be useful when I first observed you, but now I see I've doomed myself by choosing you. “What the fuck!” Micheal exclaimed, jumping half out of his cot, and causing the guards to who had relaxed somewhat to instantly return to defensive positions. Be calm you fool, those ponies are already jumpy enough as it is, the voice resounded again. Who the hell are you? Micheal asked. You would recognise me as the statue the escorted you to our benefactor, the voice replied. So I've you to blame of me being in this mess, but that's only half a story, Micheal replied. A growl echoed in Micheal's mind before the voice replied. You signed the contract, same as any of us. So who are you on that then, Micheal demanded. My name is Obsidian, the rat came to be before I was “purified” as the ponies put it, and tore my soul away where he gave me the choice to either serve in this scheme of his, or be returned to be executed again, Obsidian answered. That's...that's a tough call, Micheal thought. And now I'm stuck here, helpless to watch a fool drive me back to another execution anyway, Obsidian ranted. At least back then I'd have had a chance in killing some of those light worshiping sacks of meat. What uh...what's this about execution now anyway, Micheal asked hesitantly. Get comfortable whelp because it's a story. In an age since past, we Night Stalkers were created by our queen, Nightmare Moon. Our purpose was to either subdue the population of these lands either by terror or eliminating resistance. Her sister, Princess Celestia, fought back against our queen in a war that lasted a decade; until she banished our queen to the moon for a thousand years. Afterwards Celestia spent the following years hunting us down, when one of us were captured we would be brought to some secret temple that the sun worshiping fanatics had built. We were held captive until the longest day of summer, where we would then be shackled underneath three large magnifying glasses to be “purified” of our darkness as they put it. Since we were beings born of shadows, the solar beam completely destroyed us, burning both body and soul, Obsidian explain. That's something, but how am I going to get out of here, I can't exactly bend these bars and beat these guards down, Micheal thought. While you had your little episode with your wings, one of the guards went of to fetch Celestia. By this point your best bet would be to beg for mercy and claim that your some hatchling, afraid and confused, Obsidian suggested. Her weakness always did lay in her kindness to those less fortunate. Even now I can feel Celestia coming closer. But here's one more thing to be aware of, seeing as how new you are, the closer to Celestia you are, the more her innate solar magic will hurt you, Obsidian added. You mean she's like a walking sun? Micheal asked. Exactly. Micheal waited, anxious at the coming encounter. He shifted restlessly in the cot, nervously looking at the guards watching him. Then the door opened and he felt it. While being in the cell it made been cool and musty, now he had to shield his eyes as if the sun itself had decided to come through the door. Micheal screwed his eyes shut and turned away, raising one of his wings to protect himself, yet it still felt as if he was pinned under a mid day sun. “Please wait outside,” a voice spoke gently. “But your majesty-” “Everything will be fine,” the voice interrupted the guard, grumbling as he left, Micheal heard the the door close and silence reign. The slow burning became worse indicating that who he'd guessed was Celestia had moved right up to the bars, Micheal jumped out of the cot and pressed himself into the cell corner, trying to get as much distance between himself and the source of his pain. “How did you evade me for so long?” Celestia asked. Micheal felt like he was drying up, his throat becoming parched. “What are you talking about,” he answered hoarsely. “You are one of Nightmare Moon's creations are you not,” Celestia said. “I don't know who that is...I don't know where I even am,” Micheal replied. “LIAR!” Celestia shouted. Micheal jumped up and slammed into the bars. “I'M NOT LYING! WHAT WOULD I GAIN BY LYING, I'M LOCKED IN HERE BURNING TO DEATH ALL BECAUSE I WOKE UP IN SOME RUINS!” he shouted back, instantly regretting it when it felt like his whole front was getting scorched. Screwing his eyes shut Micheal threw himself back into a corner. The scorching sensation persisted a while longer, then began to fade along with the clopping sound of metal on stone. Micheal heard the reinforced door to the outside close shut and mummered conversation outside, then silence reigned again. Well now...maybe there's hope yet...maybe, Obsidian's said. _____ Micheal had sat in his cot since talking with Celestia. He spent most of his time practicing his control over his wings and tail; now able to co-ordinate his wings and had a fine enough control over his tail to slice the stale hunk of bread into several even pieces. Twice guards came with more dirty water and foul food. Micheal asked on the second time where it was coming from, his reply was that the scraps from the royal kitchens were still too good for him. Now he hung upside down from the large wooden support on the ceiling, talons dug in hard while he tucked his fore legs in and wrapped his wings around him. Why does this feel so... Micheal began. Normal, Obsidian finished. Exactly. Like while I was still human I could put myself upside down for amusement sake, sure I'd feel unbalanced and what not. But this feels natural, like I could just walk around like this, Micheal though. Well that's good, it'll make shadow melding much easier, Obsidian said. Shadow what now? Micheal asked. I never detailed how we were made now did I, Obsidian said. When our queen created us, she fused willing spirits of the shadow realm with a shard of her powers. When our bodies were made we retained some of our original powers and developed some new ones. One of the innate powers we all had was what is called shadow melding, where we could become apart of the shadows around us, move freely and nearly undetectable to those around us. Some of us could even cross back to the shadow realm, which could offer refuge or a place to truly torment any who you dragged over with you. Sounds, very interesting, Micheal replied. Maybe I'll try it when I get out of here. If...If, Obsidian sighed. Micheal closed his eyes and began to sway side to side while humming a low tune to himself. He kept humming for some time, but his eyes snapped open when he heard someone humming his tune outside his cell, only a few octaves higher; and familiar. Micheal saw the door slowly open, quickly he closed his eyes to slits to make it seem he wasn't paying attention. Coming through the door was one of the bat ponies like he had seen back at the ruins, armor making it indistinguishable like the rest. Carefully it slide a tray of its back onto the table just near his cell, on it was another bowl of water and...a fish? The guard slid the bowl and fish through a small slit at the base of the bars as usual, all the while humming in time with Micheal, albeit quieter. Maybe I can have some fun with this one, Micheal thought mischievously. Suddenly he stopped humming and dropped down from his perch, twisting his body he landed on the floor perfectly; the only sound being of his claws clacking on the stone. The guard looked up and let out a startled squeak, jumping back with wings flared out, eyes wide in alarm. Micheal laughed loud and hearty at the reaction from the guard, loosing balance and falling to his side in the process, much to the guards annoyance. “What's so funny?” she demanded. Micheal sat up and looked at the bat pony still chuckling. “Why you of course,” he replied. “And here I thought I'd deliver you something a bit more edible than what you've been getting from the other guard,” she said indicating to the fish. “You could have said something you know,” Micheal suggested. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself, so I thought I,d dropped these off and return to my post,” she replied. "How considerate, I appreciate this, much nicer than those other guards,” Micheal thanked. “Who are you anyway, you seem familiar,” Micheal asked. “I should, I was there at the castle of the two princesses. My name is Azura Windsong,” Azura replied. “And you are?” Shit...uh, cover name, some help would be nice, Micheal thought desperately. Think of it yourself you lazy featherbrain, Obsidian said scathingly. Fuck it, plan B. “I don't have a name, at least not yet,” Micheal replied. Azura looked confused. “You mean you don't remember it?” she asked. Micheal shook his head. “No, I only woke up...whenever it was in those ruins; with a terrible hunger, and that's my life as I know it,” Micheal mumbled. Azura took off her helmet and placed it on the table, then sat infront of his cell. “So that's why you attacked us in such a way, you woke up not knowing where you were and starving,” Azura confirmed, Micheal nodded his head in turn. “I didn't hurt anyone...did I,” Micheal asked innocently. “You gave the sergeant some pretty bad wounds, but he'll recover in a month or so,” Azura replied. Micheal just starred down at the fish on the platter. “I've seen this happen to gryphons before as well, and other predators. Sometimes instincts take over and we can't control who we are,” Azura said, noticing how down he looked. “I guess,” Micheal said. “Look, I'll be right outside, if you need something, just give me a shout,” Azura said, donning her helmet again. “There's only you guarding me?” Micheal asked. “Well I'm posted just at your door, there's some more gaurds in the halls outside,” she replied. When Azura left Micheal inspected the nourishment she had brought him. The water was crystal clear and icy, the fish was silvery and only marred by the line that ran down the belly, indicating it had been gutted. Micheal snapped the fish up in his mouth, using his beak to cut it into pieces that he swallowed whole, washing it down with the icy water. Already he was beginning to feel better. Jumping up to the support again he began to hum and sway again...as he did he heard Azura begin to hum outside as well. Slowly he began to doze off. _____ Micheal awoke abruptly when the door to his cell was slammed open. The sudden bang jolted him enough that he lost his grip and fell to the floor in a crumpled, groaning heap. “Open the cell and restrain it,” a voice commanded. Micheal barely noticed his cell open and guards apply shackles to his legs, wings and tail, then drag him out into the hall. “Alright monster listen up,” the voice said to him. “when you are told to do something you do it understood?” “I...yezz sir,” Micheal mumbled. His vision clearing Micheal saw it was a bat pony wearing silver plated armor addressing him. “Good enough, lets go,” the guard said. A pair of pegasus guards fell in beside Micheal ushering him along, a pair of unicorns brought up the rear, while a pair of bat ponies marched with the silver clad guard; Micheal identified one as actually being Azura. "Uhh...where are we going?" Micheal asked. "Quiet prisoner," the guard to his left said. I've a bad feeling about this, Micheal thought. Dear maker I'm going to die again, and I can't do anything, Obsidian wailed.