//------------------------------// // Meeting the Past Wielders // Story: The Wielder of the Orb // by TheMajorTechie //------------------------------// Nightshade? Hello? Hey! Nightshade stirred for a brief moment in her sleep, surprised at the familiar voice. “Anicetus? But… aren’t you dead?” I was, but I am no longer. The Orb must keep a portion of every wielder’s soul protected within itself. The others in here lie dormant, while I, being the most recent, serve as the main voice. Nightshade glanced about the room. It was still the same one as the one in her previous dream, just more… congested. “Anicetus, what’s that smell?” That smell? It is simply the aroma of the wielder I replaced. They lived in a garbage heap at the time of death. A face of disgust made it’s way onto Nightshade’s face. “And you just left it here?” I do apologize for that but I am unable to do that due to the fact that we’re all trapped in this place.         Nightshade nodded. “It’s alright. I’ll adjust. But still, get some air freshener for this place.”         Viola, air freshener.         “Wait… what?”         The inner side of the Orb is a land of no logic, no physics, only imagination, knowledge, and power. It only makes sense in the way it makes sense to oneself.         “So, you’re saying that we have near unlimited power in here?”         In a way, yes. The creators of the Orb, known around here as the Templars of the Multiverse, were the first civilization in all of reality, and thus were able to learn how to bend the rules of reality itself to their will.         “That sounds dangerous. What if I do… this?”         Nightshade lit her horn, and cast a spell that she’d normally never be able to cast. Suddenly, the entire room was set ablaze with green flames, the walls of reality folding in upon themselves. Perception bent to the will of noone, and flopped about as shamefully as a fish out of water.         That was… impressive, so to say, In all my years, I’ve never seen such power contained in such a small body.         Nightshade looked at the aftermath in surprise. “I...I don’t know how I did that. I’ve never really been able to cast anything like that before.”         A bipedal being appeared in front of Nightshade. It looked similar to Anicetus, but at the same time, looked just about as horribly decayed as a corpse.         “Anicetus?!” Gasped Nightshade in surprise, “Is that really you?”         Yes, it is indeed me. This is what a soul eventually looks like after spending so long inside the Orb. The others are in much worse shape than this.         “So, if I ever see your corrupted self, he’ll look like you?”         Indeed not. That petty scum of a being stole my body. The moment he defeated me, he immediately took full control of my handsome body, leaving me with-- with this!         Nightshade hesitated, afraid of another outburst. Finally, she stammered, “S-so, If you stay here for as long as the others, then… what would you look like?”         Eventually I’ll wither away to the point of becoming a being of pure conscience. Hey Stan, get over here and meet the new wielder.         A large can suddenly appeared beside Anicetus.         Stan, I’ve told you before, can you please stop appearing that way?         The soup can trembled as a massive can opener floated above it. With an anticlimactic ‘pop’, the can opened up.         Yo, Ani, wazzup?         Nothing much. Could you stop calling me Ani please? It sounds girlish.         Heh, girlish. Reminds me of those pretty ladies I’d watch on the street.         Oh for the love of... Please don’t scare the young lady we have here.         It’s not my fault I was accidentally chosen as the wielder for a week.         Nightshade looked at the two. “Wait you were only a wielder for a week?”         That’s right. For a week, I was able to summon as much food as I wanted. And then I died in my own garbage pile after my stomach burst.         As you can see, there was already nothing left of poor ol’ Stan when his soul arrived here. That’s why he, like the others before him, is simply a blip of light. In maybe a year or two, that’ll be all that is left of myself too.         Nightshade blinked. “Oooook, that was weird.”         Of course it was. Why else would we be the Wielders? That’s half the fun.         “Wait…” Nightshade turned to face Stan. “Weird… we’re all weird, outcasts, in fact. Is-- is that why we were all chosen?”         Yes, in fact. The outcasts of society, the low-lifes, the unloved, they all understand things in a much different light. It isn’t everyday when a random nobody from the in-crowd truly understands what the true corruptive power of the Orb could be. It takes someone who’s suffered loss, one who always casts a wary eye upon others, to even get half the way to becoming a wielder.         A sudden realization struck Nightshade. “Outcasts… society… I’m an outcast at school, forever destined to be teased and bullied into submission… I have seen the corrupting strength of power, I am one who truly understands the sheer strength it takes to stave from the spiraling pit of despair that is the Orb... “ She turned to Anicetus, “And I know why the Orb was created.”         You do?         “Yes, I do. I believe it was created by the ‘Templars’ to protect others from the power of the Templars themselves, and in the case of which the Templars were destroyed, the Orb would permanently replace them, drawing from our very souls to create a new and improved set of Templars, each one knowing the full power of the Orb, each knowing just how devastating power may be in the wrong ho-I mean, hands.”         I have never thought of that before. You, out of everyone in here - myself included, likely understand more of the Orb than all of us here put together. Tell me, how did you know that?         “Easy. I live in a world where a Monarchy actually works, even though it’s technically a Diarchy now.”         Nightshade projected an image of Equestria onto the walls. “You see, when the elder sister, Celestia, was ruling alongside her younger sister, Luna, she gained a near absolute power over the ponies. That power, that oh so highly coveted power… it changed the younger sister. Luna, alas, was new to that strange longing. Never in her life had she craved power in such a way, and so she simply let it consume her, change her, into her darkest form: Nightmare Moon.”         And so for a thousand years, Nightmare Moon was imprisoned upon her namesake, and returned, only to have the corruption set upon her destroyed by the Elements of Harmony.         “Wait, you know that?”         Yeah, I read up on this place when the Orb got transferred.         “How?”         Just because I’m trapped in this cramped place doesn’t mean that I don’t have access to all the knowledge in... what’s it called… Equestria.         Suddenly, Stan reappeared beside Anicetus.         Seems legit to me, Ani.         Argh, would you please stop calling me that?!         Nah I think I’ll keep it up forever.         Of course you won’t, you little…         Nightshade butted herself between the two. “Would you please stop arguing?! This tiny place makes the echoing go crazy!”         Fine I’ll wait ‘til ya leave Bro.         As Stan dissipated into the air, Anicetus facepalmed with his remaining intact hand.         One of these days, he’s really gonna get it.         And what makes you think that?         Stan! I thought you left!         “...I’m just gonna leave now,” Nightshade grumbled as she made her way towards the “exit” of her dream: the door.