Chapter 2- …The Spark…
“Come on, scum!” cried out the cruel voice of one of the griffon handlers as he cracked a whip over the heads of the slaves, causing all but Pyro to flinch. He had grown past feeling fear. In fact, in the several months since his realization in the pits, he had grown past feeling anything…except for the burning hatred deep in his chest. He pulled the wagon a tiny bit faster, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at the griffon. As he faced forward once again, a dark scowl spread across his features.
He’ll get his, he thought silently to himself.
That had been his life since that night. When Bulk and Break had hauled him out of the pit the next morning, he had not reacted at all, even when they squeezed his legs to hard, or attached him to the chain to roughly. He simply stood there, and let his rage slowly build inside of him, until it coursed through every vein. No action was ever completed without Pyro thinking of how he would make them all pay, especially that monster, Grimwrik. Even the passage of time was lost to him, the only way of knowing that any time had passed at all being the tall crops standing beside him.
He pulled the wagon along, stopping occasionally to let the ponies behind him pick the precious plant and throw it into the back, and so the day went on, just as any other. However, what Pyro did not know was that this day would turn the tides of his life forever. He eventually came to the end of the row, and started to turn towards the next, but, as he did, not ten feet away from him, stood Bulk, Break, and several griffons.
Pyro’s blood began to boil, not because of the presence of the slave handlers, but at what was in the middle of them all. Lying there, in a bloody mess, was an older stallion, a pony that had spent his entire life on the plantation, shedding his blood, sweat, and tears for the same cruel beings that stood around him and laughed at his misery. As the tormentors continued to laugh, one of the griffons raised their whip and brought it down on the elder’s back, causing him to cry out in pain.
Pyro’s teeth ground together as he watched this, and a pounding began in the back of his head. He lost all connection to his surroundings, reality seeming to fade away from him. How DARE they!!! He screamed in his head. This pony that had bared every burden on his shoulders reduced to nothing more than a bloody, screaming mess in the dust. As these thoughts went through his mind, a whisper escaped his lips. None heard him, except a lone griffon standing on the outskirts of the group, who turned towards the sound.
Upon seeing Pyro standing, trembling, and staring at the ground, the griffon gave a chuckle. “Hey,” he called out. The other handlers stopped in the demented merrymaking and turned to stare at the scene unfolding before them. The griffon wore a cocky smirk as he started to strut towards the red colt, trying to make as big a show out of his actions as he could. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you from over there,” said the griffon, coming to a stop in front of Pyro, “could you say that again.” Another unintelligible whisper came from Pyro, who still had not moved, but had stopped trembling as the griffon approached. “What was that?” asked the griffon, cocking his head to the side and cupping one claw around his ear. “Could you speak up?”
“That’s….” Pyro slowly lifted his head to gaze into the eyes of the griffon, and in that moment, only one thing ran through the griffon’s mind; fear. “ENOOOOUUUGH!!!” The griffon never knew what hit him. A surge of white hot aura blasted its way out of Pyro, blowing away everything around him. When the dust settled and the smoke cleared, all that could be seen was a scorch mark, and the young red stallion. That wouldn’t have bothered the large group of tyrants; except for one thing…the pony before them was on FIRE!
The entirety of Pyro’s mane and tail had been engulfed in blue and white flames, giving the pony the look of something straight out of Tartarus. Everyone present took a step back…everyone except Break. “Wat’re you idiots doin’?” he yelled out, glancing over his shoulders at his retreating comrades. “It’s only one stupid slave!”
“You should have run.”
The words made Break’s blood run cold, despite the heat that was slowly growing more intense in front of him. He slowly turned his head forwards to see Pyro slowly stalking towards him, and that’s when he spotted what the others had seen right off the bat; Pyro was still wearing the magic dampening ring on his horn.
Break began to back away even more quickly than his comrades, and ended up tripping and falling on his rump. In his desperation, he began to claw his way backwards, but it was no use. Pyro slowly approached the downed minotaur. Break could do nothing but stare at the nightmare before, and began to pray to all the elder gods of his race that some miracle should save him, but only one thing came to his terrified mind.
“Please, don’t hurt me!” he screamed, throwing his hands in front of him, and squeezing his eyes shut. The gravel and dust gave a final crunch as Pyro stopped his approach. After a few moments of nothing, Break began to open his eyes. He saw the pony standing before him, once again staring at the ground and trembling, the flames on his body dimming to a slow red and orange burn.
“Spare you?” Pyro’s voice came out as a whispered growl that somehow held more force than when he had shouted. “After all you’ve done, everything you put us, put ME through?” A small chuckle escaped his lips as he began to raise his head to look at Break. “You must be joking,” he said, an evil smile spreading across his face to match his eyes that were slowly turning from blue to black. “Say goodnight!”
In that moment, as tendrils of fire began to crawl out of the flames across Pyro’s back and sway in the air, Break knew there was no chance for him. He screamed out in pain as the fiery whips rained down on his body, raising his arms in a desperate attempt to protect his face and head. Again and again they came, blow after blow, with more and more force, as Pyro’s evil grin morphed into a hateful and rage filled snarl. He continued to bring the whips down, even after covering Break’s body in lacerations and removing most of the fur from his arms, leaving the flesh underneath burned and blackened from the flames.
Pyro would have finished him right then and there, had it not been for the several hundred pounds of griffon muscle that plowed into his side from the air. He rolled and skid for several feet across the dirt, coming to a stop when he flipped himself upright and skid on all four hooves for another few feet. He looked up to see several griffons surround him as a few minotaur started to get Break to his feet.
Pyro snorted. Fine, he thought, I’ll finish him later. He looked back towards the griffons, who were beginning to close in around him. In the meantime, let’s have some fun. The malicious grin once again spread itself across his features. The griffons hesitated, not for long, but long enough. Pyro charged forwards, leaping into the air to deliver a powerful punch into the face of the lead griffon, sending it sailing backwards. He didn’t stop, keeping his momentum going by spinning upon landing to deliver a devastating double buck to the torso the next griffon, sending it into the next griffon in line.
The remaining four finally got over their shock, three charging at Pyro, and the fourth turning to the sky to gain enough altitude for a second dive. They quickly surrounded him, hoping to overwhelm him through sheer numbers. His only reaction was to widen his smirk. As one, the griffons charged him, completely unprepared for what was coming next. Pyro stood on his front hooves, balancing his hindquarters over his head and started to spin. A maelstrom of fire formed around him, turning Pyro into a cyclone of flames. It was too late for the three griffons to react, and each took a fiery kick to the head, sending them back several yards.
The fourth had performed his 180 degree turn just in time to see all this, and he made up his mind to end this foolishness once and for all. He dove towards Pyro, planning to slam into his side for a second time. But, was it just him, or was the cyclone getting faster and spreading out along the ground?
Moments before he would have plowed into the pony, Pyro jumped into the air, leaving a trail a flame behind him like a comet. He stopped in midair, and, shooting flames from all four hooves, launched himself headfirst into the back of the diving griffon, driving him into the ground. Pyro stepped out of the cloud of dust that surrounded the newly formed crater. He looked around to see that several more handlers had arrived as backup, but no one seemed keen on taking this unnatural being of rage and flames.
“Well?” He called out. “Anyone else?”
“It looks as if the handlers haven’t been hard enough on you slaves.”
Pyro turned towards the voice that had come from behind him, only to see the one being he hated more than any land ten feet away from him; Grimwrik had arrived.
“It’s about time you showed up,” Pyro said with a grin that almost immediately turned into a snarl. “I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart!”
Grimwrik simply ‘hmph’d in response, causing Pyro’s rage to soar to new heights. He rushed the older hybrid, drawing his front hoof back to deliver a skull crushing punch. However, just as he came into striking distance, Grimwrik moved faster than he could follow, and, in one swift motion, threw the punch away as if it were nothing, grabbed Pyro by the throat and slammed him into the ground. The griffon/dragon began to squeeze harder on Pyro’s windpipe, causing him to start gasping for air.
“I’ve had just about enough of you,” Grimwrik before launching himself into the sky, dragging Pyro with him. As they got higher and higher, Pyro felt consciousness begin to slip away as he was deprived of more and more oxygen. Seeing this, Grimwrik waited for the pony to be holding on by nothing more than a thread, then flipped midair, holding Pyro in front him as they dove back towards the ground. Upon hitting the earth, the ground shook and a shockwave of wind and dust followed.
Pyro was barely awake at the bottom of the crater, and the last thing he saw before all consciousness left him was Grimwrik stepping towards one of the minotaur handlers, jerk a thumb towards him, and say something unintelligible. Something about “hang” and “morning”....