//------------------------------// // Part 7 Fighting a Train // Story: Will To Survive // by Zephyr Spark //------------------------------// Edging his way past the golden beetle, Spike returned to his soon-to-be second base with several branches, cobwebs, wonder moss, and glow vines (his new name for the tendrils hanging high above). During his searches, he found an open area on a hill, with a blindingly sharp drop behind it to a few tree branches and the distant forest floor. With no other creatures in sight, it seemed like an excellent location to construct a second base. At the moment, he hadn’t considered what kind of shelter he would erect (much less how), just that it would satisfy his needs for warmth, comfort, and most importantly protection. Using his bare claws, he burrowed a vast circular pit into the mud. Around the edges, he poked holes at two-foot intervals and placed in the longest branches, which would serve as framing poles. Once firmly secured, he bent the branches at their ends, careful not to break them or lose his grip to be snapped by the recoil, and lashed them together using a glow vine. He then tied several branches laterally, creating a skeletal dome, and covered the dome with several layers of wonder moss, leaving holes for ventilation and entrance. After several hours, he had a decently firm base. Grabbing the soil displaced from the crater, he packed a layer of dirt onto the wonder moss, blending it into the forest. Hours later, Spike comfortably rested on a bed of wonder moss with plenty of water, gemstones, and sore fruits. He was tempted to close his eyes when he reminded himself to set booby traps. Rolling to his feet, he brushed past the mossy curtain covering the entrance and gathered his remaining supplies. Placing them in a pile, Spike glanced at the area, searching for ideal locations to place his traps. Another hour, and Spike had placed enough snares, pitfalls, and traps to punish any curious creature who came too close. Satisfied with his work, Spike went to lie down on his mossy bed when a figure darted in the corner of his eye. He reached for his spear, only to remember he left it in his shelter. He grabbed a hand axe from his hip. The axe was more tool than weapon, but it would have to do. Spike released puffs of smoke from his nostrils, letting small embers frolic from his mouth. He could sense nothing. Whatever it was, it was gone. Or hiding. Keeping his eyes trained on the forest, he took tentative steps backwards. A brown cockroach scampered away, but Spike didn’t relax until he was inside his fortress. He never liked roaches. After sometime, he retrieved his spear, two sore fruits, food and water. He still had so much to explore. Making his way outside, he approached the rows of trees and entered the Underworld jungle. The muddy debris and leaf litter mingled beneath his feet. Nearby forest sprouts emitted a peppery, sharp scent. Soil pressed into his already dirty feet, an occasional pebble pricked his heel. He would wince, wishing he had some sort of footgear, then press on more carefully, ignoring the pain. To his left, he discerned the pony-sized creature with a dual sickled end that he encountered much earlier gauging him. With a puff of smoke and one mock charge, old Sickle-butt scurried away. He was getting good at naming these things, and scaring them. He continued forward, one step too far, and snapped a branch. A leaf bounded away from its perch, feet from Spike. On further inspection, he recognized the leaf as a grasshopper; short antennae, long, thin, thorny rear legs, and angular body. Even knowing grasshoppers were primarily herbivores, Spike kept his distance and walked around the motionless creature. Getting kicked with Hopper’s spiky limbs didn’t paint a happy image in his mind. Wow, he could crack out these names like no pony’s business The mud beneath his feet became grainy. Intrigued by this change, Spike doubled his pace. A sharp stone on his foot, and he slowed down. Sensing a creature rapidly approaching, Spike reached for his spear and ducked into the undergrowth. A metallic green and blue beetle with deadly yellow and black mandibles raced across the ground, moving so fast even Rainbow Dash would be impressed. Like a flash of lightning, the creature soon faded from sight. Wary of the creature returning, Spike waited several minutes before leaving his hiding place and heading in the opposite direction of Speedy. Was it wrong to name every creature and plant that he saw? Spike had to ponder that question as he walked across a wide stick, suspended over a wide, shallow mud pool. Reaching the other side, he shook his head, refocusing his attention. He couldn’t see any harm in it. Naming them would help identification. He could quickly recall who they were and what they could do. Plus, calling a praying mantis the size of a building Finger-face made it far less scary. Anyways, he had to focus on his task. He proceeded to the distant sound of the ocean waves, stopping only once to hide from Wingster, a hovering green and black dragonfly. Soon, the trees ebbed away. He was back on the beach, but this time it looked different. Firstly, the sand was a red-pink hue. He had to kneel down and shift the sand in his claws before he believed it. Without an inkling where the sand achieved its color, he accepted it as another Underworld phenomenon and dubbed the sand Pinkie Pie Sand, promising himself to show this to Pinkie Pie when he escaped. Of course, the Pinkie Pie Sand wasn’t the only object of interest. Further down to the left side of the beach around a pile of rotting seaweed, the ground was littered with several holes, from which creatures only slightly bigger than the log creatures emerged to approach a piece of thinning seaweed. They resembled shrimp, having laterally flattened bodies, but lacked a hard-shelled head or thorax. Curious to see their reactions, he made his way over, spear and sore fruit in hand, and took a step towards one of them. He barely took a step onto the beach before the closest shrimpy creature reacted. Quickly, it hopped and raced into a hole, blanketing the entrance with a pile of sand. So, they weren’t carnivorous, or at least aggressive. Giving Hoppy – no, there was already a Hopper – giving Diggy and his band space, Spike walked to the shores where waves touched the sand. To his distant right and left, black rocky outcrops sealed this Pinkie Pie Sand away from the rest of the beach. Past those, there were two smaller beaches consisting entirely of shells and glass stones. There was still an endless horizon, reminding him sailing away was impossible, but at the moment he didn’t really mind. Along the shore, red and pink coral bits and crushed shells dotted the wave lines. He procured a tiny sliver of coral and inspected it, under the distant glow vine light. Chunky, firm, and of course pink. Pinkie Pie would go nuts over this stuff. He smiled at the thought and promised to also show it to her after he returned home. Taking a seat, the gentle waves rushed over his feet, cleaning his muddy toes bit by bit. Putting down his spear, he reclined on his hands and studied the scene before him. In the distance, he could see large fishes swimming in the waves; their scales reflecting the glow vines like mirrors. Far away, a few long-legged insects floated on the water surface like rafts. The salty fragrance filled his senses as the waves of crystal continued their rhythmic rises and falls. The pink sand shimmered as several Diggies hopped, raced into their holes, and covered the entrance. Spike’s eyes narrowed. Why were they –? Something’s coming! Jumping to his feet, Spike grabbed his spear and turned to retreat into the forest. Searching for the intruder in the sand. Perhaps it was another one of those toothy worms? No, the threat wasn’t from something underground. Or was it? If he could just make it back into the forest, he could camouflage amongst the leaves. That’s when he saw it. Coming over a mound of sand, a demon longer than a train with a circular head sporting massive curved fangs hinged laterally and ferociously bobbing segmented antennae. The black-red body was divided into several segments, bearing countless pale legs that rounded into pointed tips, ending in two elongated finger-like barbs. This creature Spike recognized; a giant centipede. He wracked his brain for any information on the arthropod. Weren’t they vegetarians? No, that would be a millipede. Now he remembered! Twilight’s arthropods book stated centipedes have modified legs that serve as pincers delivering highly potent venom. They are among the most effective predators of the arthropod world. Celestia help him. Spike glanced at the forest, wondering if he could outrace the creature and hide in the forest. He didn’t like his chances outracing a multi-legged locomotive. Given how quickly it was already darting along the beach just searching for a meal, Spike could only imagine how quickly it would move when pursuing prey. He didn’t have to imagine much longer. The centipede stumbled upon a covered Diggy hole. It hadn’t seen them hide. It had no way of knowing where they – no. The monster’s fangs flashed as it pierced through the sand, diving head first into the burrow. Petrified, Spike could only watch as it dragged out a pathetically struggling Diggy in its mouth. The beast ripped out the creature’s innards and forked the mush into its mouth. All the while, severed legs twitched with fading remnants of life. Within seconds, an empty Diggy husk littered the beach. The centipede groomed an antenna in its mouth and then the other, before placing its antennae near the ground. Twiddling like fingers on piano, the demon’s antennae twitched and guided the killer to its next meal: a little dragon. Shocked into action, Spike’s eyes darted for a place to hide. Noticing a patch of wonder moss hanging on a distant tree, he readied himself to sprint away as the centipede retraced his steps to the shore. Then, he noticed something odd. Why wasn’t it charging him? He wasn’t hiding at the moment; his green, mossy armor was a signal flair against the pink sand. So, why was the centipede taking its sweet time? It doesn’t need sight to find you. It hunts with other senses. Of course! That’s why it could find a Diggy. That’s why it hadn’t charged at him. It must have been practically blind. Having no use for sight, the monster had other means to detect him. Oh no. He couldn’t hide. Camouflage wouldn’t fool it for a second, when it didn’t need sight to find him, to kill him. Like Diggy. Spike’s eyes drifted to the corpse before returning to his approaching aggressor. Well, he could meet it head on and scare it, right? He drew his spear and a sore fruit, readying a warning flame and snarl. Even if it couldn’t see, it would feel the heat from his fire. Most creatures would see fire as dangerous. Given his distance from any plants or trees, he decided to intensify his flames. Thinking only of Twilight and his friends, he closed his eyes and unleashed a torrent of green flames, which grew into an eclipsing maelstrom, larger than a mountain. Now, it was the forest’s turn to fear him. He opened his eyes. The centipede stopped in its tracks, several meters away from him. Antennae bobbed. Its entire body remained motionless, except those antennae. Spike inhaled and sent a cloud of embers to the centipede’s right. Startled, it shifted the other way but Spike released another cloud of smoke in that direction. Finally, he unleashed a billow of flames between them. The embers soon evaporated, smoke covered the ground. Before he could congratulate himself, Spike narrowed his eyes. Bursting through the smoke, the centipede charged like a rocket, legs rolling across the ground like train wheels on a track. The creature wasn’t afraid of him. He just demonstrated that he could burn it to the ground in a second, and it charged without hesitation, only provoked by the flames. Five meters apart, Spike thrust his spear at the demon. It didn’t so much as flinch. He jabbed at its black eyes, but it didn’t even notice. Fangs larger than Spike’s body were poised to rip him in half. When he jabbed again, something finally happened. His spear broke in two and the centipede barreled towards him, only feet away. Remember the crab! The crab? Pinchy? Spike leapt away moments before the centipede’s fangs clenched down, where he once stood. He threw the sore fruit liquid at the beast. That only made it angrier as it doubled on him. Rapidly losing ground, Spike stumbled backwards across the sand, but the monster kept coming. He couldn’t outrace that thing. He tried to exhale more fire, but his throat failed, and he could hardly think. He tripped, falling into the rising tides. Like Pinchy! Spike jumped into the deeper water, swimming until his feet could no longer touch the sand floor, then he swam further. Turning around, he saw the centipede scanning the sand where he once stood, antennae bobbing across the debris for the coward who threatened it and then fled. Spike swam further from the shore across the waves about a house-length away from the centipede. Antennae wriggling, head shifting, the demon darted about the shore. Spike treaded the ocean, remaining afloat with minimal effort. Soon, the centipede tired and retreated back up the beach towards the rotting seaweed. Then, the little drake realized he wasn’t the only edible thing on the beach. He wanted to scream to the Diggies, rush to their side and warn them to escape, but he could only watch helplessly as the beast tore through a Diggy’s burrow and ripped it apart. It then turned to the next burrow and mercilessly slaughtered another. Corpses littered the sand, as the centipede kept devouring them, unchallenged. Within minutes, the pink sand was the sight of a blood bath with hollow, eviscerated carcasses, mangled limbs, broken orange antennae, and decapitated heads littering the beach. Twelve dead, and the centipede finally stopped to clean its antennae in its mouth. Seemingly satisfied with its carnage, the demon retreated into the depths of Underworld to spread more death. Crawling to the shore, Spike retched on the sand. His head throbbed as relived facing that, that savage gleefully slaughtering a race of creatures he had only just discovered. Approaching a corpse, he stared at the empty husk that was once alive, going about its daily life, possibly even raising a family. Unconsciously, Spike began digging in the sand. He didn’t stop until he made a hole the size of a pony. Carrying the corpse to the hole, he placed it within the pit and covered it with sand. Breaking a part of his useless spear, he marked the grave with a little twig. He turned to the other corpses, and wordlessly buried them all. He knelt before the line of graves, uncertain how to honor their lives. Finally, he spoke. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you,” his voice sounded alien to him. His frills drooped as tears filled his eyes. “I could have save all of you with one breath of fire but I just—.” Tears trickled down his face, as he relived their deaths. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kill.” Spike gazed at the mounds of sand, half hoping they would say something, anything. Silence ensued, prompting Spike to bow his head. His fists balled, eyes clenched shut. “Even when your lives depended on it,” Spike trembled. The wind blew past his scales, the waves rose and fell, and the forest dwellers kept singing. He cursed the centipede, he cursed himself, he cursed Underworld, but most of all, he cursed his weakness. He should have roasted that monster when he had the chance. He should have stood and fought, not turned tail and fled. At least then, he would have died trying to save lives than survived a coward. But, he had to survive. After all, he had to return home. Then he realized, the true Spike, innocent and unsullied, could never return home. That Spike died the moment he washed up on that shore, the moment he let another creature die by failing to act. How would Twilight and the others see him after allowing that slaughter? What did it matter if he didn’t kill when letting another be killed was murder in itself? Why was it that he alone survived only for all those Diggies to die? Spike knew one thing: he vowed to never let himself become attached to another creature down here. Something moist pressed into his arm. Spike turned to see a Diggy, about the size of puppy, curiously staring at him. Remaining in his kneeling position, Spike averted his gaze, keeping his heart cold. Still, he did not push the juvenile away. His armor soggy and smelling of salt, Spike realized the moss made a spongy squishing sound when he moved and developed a distinct salty aroma. Neither would benefit him in the long run. He would have to ditch his current wonder moss armor for a new set. Fortunately, there was wonder moss growing on tree near the tree line, and he happened to have some green gemstones in his pouch for protective spikes. Anyways, he could always recycle the gemstones from his current piece of armor for the new set. It would take a few hours to gather the other necessary materials and then craft the armor, but he needed protection. He stayed a moment longer, kneeling at the graves with Dug by his side. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With new armor and a hastily constructed spear, Spike made his way through the forest back to his shelter. The image of the centipede scarred on his memory. He couldn’t do a thing against that monstrosity. A deadly demonstration of his fire only fueled its charge, his spear was rent in half, the sore fruit was useless; in the end, all he could do was hide where it couldn’t follow. It was so powerful and dauntless. How was he going to beat something like that when he couldn’t even make it fear him? He glanced around the forest. When he awoke earlier, creatures were crawling everywhere. Now, there was no sign of movement save from the corner of his eyes. As soon as his eyes darted to the movement, it vanished from existence. He wondered if every creature was hiding from that centipede. Hopefully, it wasn’t anywhere nearby. The thought made Spike lower his body to the ground and hasten his silent pace. Not for the first or last time, he wished for Twilight, Rarity, or any pony, really. Well, he had Sir Knight. Unless the centipede got him. No, he believed Sir Knight could find a way around the centipede. He was strong, resourceful; had to be if he’d been living in here for so long. He treaded carefully across the ground, worried that any moment, a fanged beast would ambush him. His base was still quite far, so Spike tried to move without a sound. Not that silence would help him when the centipede had other senses. Still, he didn’t want to draw any attention. He walked across the stick bridge through the bushy undergrowth. Some feet ahead, he saw a leafy shape sprawled on the ground. Spike came closer and immediately wished he hadn’t. It was Hopper. His green body ripped open and his insides cleaned out. Empty black dots stared back at Spike. He closed his eyes but Hopper’s stare remained. Teary eyed, he trembled at the photograph, a crime scene identical to the Diggy slaughters. But now, there was no respect for this once proud creature. The sickle-ended creatures, armadillo bugs, and cockroach were feasting on the remains. Spike bit his right hand index finger, suppressing his screams. He wanted to rush in and drive them away, give Hopper a proper burial; recognize that he once lived. But if that centipede was still around, he couldn’t take the chance. So, he settled on bowing his head where he was, and whispering a few words so silent they may as well have been in his head. “I’m sorry, Hopper.” His throat tensed as he choked, “If I’d beaten that centipede, you would still be alive.” His hand reached his aching heart, and whimpered, “You were an innocent, noble creature, going about its life, when a monster decided to cut it short. You didn’t deserve,” he glared at the scavengers, before meeting Hopper’s lifeless eyes, “this. Accusatory silence, save for the munching of a carcass. Spike steeled his heart and walked through the sprouts and the bushes. He felt kinship with a multitude of these creatures, kinships he had formed before witnessing firsthand they could die. He knew they could, but actually seeing it shattered some happy illusion. The ties he already made with these creatures gave him a sense of connection, being a part of something greater than himself. Now, he was losing them. With no pony else down here, it felt like he was losing his friends. Avoiding the open area, Spike stayed crouched low in the brush and tediously worked his way uphill. He felt the precautions were necessary. Even if the centipede didn’t need its sight to find him, there were plenty of predators that did like the praying mantis, Finger-face. Where was she? Had the centipede gotten her as well? She may have been very tall and stealthy, but Spike had no idea if she could overcome such a foe. And then there was Big Cow. If the centipede murdered what was possibly the most innocent, harmless creature in the forest, Spike was certain he’d go insane. Why do you fret? Abandon your sadness. Embrace us and find true joy in madness. The nonexistent voice was a dull whisper, but present nonetheless, like a mosquito furtively extracting his blood before darting out of sight, leaving him with an itching sore. Fortunately, he could ignore this mosquito and the sore, at least for now. He shifted through the brambles, past the ivy, and through the sprouts. Pausing to evade an incoming mite, Spike remained motionless in the clovers until the crimson giant scurried past him. A tangy scent emanated from the surrounding leaves, Spike crawled under a gnarled tree root. He recognized the surrounding vegetation; he saw it this morning when he encountered that roach. He was almost there. Just a little longer and he’d be – Scorpion food. Several meters ahead, a house-sized scorpion with bulky pincers descended from a suspended tree root to a patch of ground vegetation. Feathery appendages under its body flicked on the ground as it soldiered across the soil. Quietly, Spike backtracked while keeping an eye on the beast. Actually, it looked familiar. Was that Scorpio? The chances of running into the exact same scorpion seemed slim; marginally impossible in the long run, especially in a forest this massive. Even as he entertained the notion, Spike decided to give this Scorpio a wide berth. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that stinger, and he preferred to avoid any sort of confrontation. As the scorpion turned in the opposite direction moving northwest of his base, Spike noticed two twiddling appendages coming over the horizon towards Scorpio. His heart plummeted as the savage centipede appeared and slowly approached Scorpio. When its antenna was in reach, Scorpio lashed at the fiend with its pincers, driving it back. Spike couldn’t help but smile at the one creature capable of intimidating a centipede, and at the knowledge that the vicious arthropod wasn’t invincible. But in a split second, the centipede charged again. Scorpio lashed out with pincers and struck with a venomous stinger, but the centipede bowled through its defenses like a freight train. Entrapping Scorpio with its snakelike body, the savage wrapped its many legs around Scorpio’s tail and pulled the stinger to the forest floor, effectively immobilizing the weapon. Then, it arched its long body over Scorpio’s nuisance of pincers and sunk its fangs into the top of Scorpio’s head. Scorpio’s pincers squirmed in place, his struggles becoming weaker as the centipede began eating him barely alive. Frozen in the spot, Spike stared in horror as mouthparts lapped up Scorpio’s limy, liquid innards through a gash carved by gruesome fangs. Scorpio’s body became pale. Soon, a hollow shell was all that remained of Scorpio. The centipede ran its antennae through its mouth, grooming them, before releasing the corpse. Antennae bobbed in Spike’s direction. The little drake saw it approaching but could not will himself to move. The centipede edged closer with each second, but Spike couldn’t do a thing. Halfway there, the savage stopped feet from the tangy leaves. Snaking its head around, it crossed over the tree root and raced east, searching for another victim. It spared him. But after witnessing that carnage up close, he already felt dead. Body collapsing, Spike curled up and cried. He cried for Scorpio, for the twelve Diggies, for Hopper, and all the victims of this monstrosity. He cried for his helplessness, idly watching as the horror tore creatures he’d known to shreds. He cried, knowing that their deaths were his fault, knowing that he could have incinerated the devil and stopped its rampage. He wished he’d never fallen down here. He wished he’d never seen these monsters. Now, he just wanted to die – “Spike,” He heard Sir Knight’s voice before him. Sure enough, the knight was standing in front of him, kneeling. The knight didn’t bother asking what was wrong. He merely helped Spike to his feet, and led him by the hand. After all this loneliness, feeling another being holding his hand was the most comforting sensation Spike felt since he fell down here. Spike followed with childlike obedience. He looked up at the knight. His face was still obscured in the darkness. Still, he could discern green eyes, a long snout, and a silvery helmet. In his hand, Spike held not a hoof, but another hand. Soon, they were back at Spike’s base. Leading him across the traps, Sir Knight brought Spike into the shelter and placed him on the mossy bed. He placed a hand on Spike’s trembling frame. Gradually, the shaking subsided. “Spike,” the firm voice spoke, “I know you’re upset, I know you think this is all your fault. But you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t kill anyone today; that centipede did.” Spike stared at his hands, slowly balling them into fists. He growled in frustration, “I could have stopped it.” “No, you couldn’t. There wasn’t anything you could do to stop him. And that’s not your fault.” “I should’ve burned it,” Spike choked, “when I had the chance.” “I thought you didn’t want to become a killer,” Sir Knight’s reprimanding stare pierced through Spike’s distress and his heart. “It’s just one monster,” Spike scowled. “I wouldn’t have to do it again. If it meant protecting everyone, I could do it. And it would be so easy…” “And then your next kill would be easier, and the next more so, until you could take a life without a thought,” Sir Knight placed a finger under his chin and lifted Spike’s gaze. “Is that really what you want? Is that really who you want to become?” “Maybe if it saved lives … ” “Death happens all the time in this world. You may not have seen it, but everyday creatures perish in their struggle to survive. Everyday, they have to risk their lives and their safety to survive. Sometimes the risk pays off and other times it costs them. Animals have to eat to survive. Those creatures on the beach, the grasshopper, and even the scorpion didn’t die because you didn’t kill the centipede. The beach creatures died because they wouldn’t abandon their rotting seaweed food when they should have moved on long ago. The grasshopper and scorpion died because they went out looking for a meal in the wrong time and the wrong place. Not a single one of them could do anything to the centipede, not even the scorpion. That’s just the way things are down here. A creature can have all the skills, weapons, and armor in the world but still succumb to another who is simply superior.” “…” “If given the chance, either the centipede or the scorpion would have gone after you. Instead, the centipede went after the scorpion. The scorpion died, the centipede ate, and you live to see another day. I know it’s horrifying to witness, but this is not a bad thing; it’s simply nature.” “Well, nature’s messed up.” “I suppose there’s a grain of truth to that, but you couldn’t have stopped that centipede if you wanted to.” “I know, but I still wish I tried.” “Nobody’s asking you to. Even if you had saved the scorpion, it wouldn’t have thanked you. It would just have seen you as a potential meal. And every other creature would have ran away the second you attacked the centipede.” “But it would have proved I’m still me, that I haven’t lost myself and become a monster.” “I think the fact you felt so deeply at seeing another creature perish, proves you are still you.” “How long can I keep being me? How long before I become a part of the madness?” “Is that all this world is to you? Madness?” “…” “You’re condemning creatures for obeying the natural order?” “…" “Don’t you see there’s so much more to this place than eat or be eaten?” “…” “There’s beauty here. Peace. A world untouched, blossoming into an ever-growing, ever beautiful haven.” “…” “Plants never before seen by another soul, life forms long thought to be extinct, and crystals that kingdoms could only dream of.” “…” “But at the heart of it all there’s something incredible, something that couldn’t exist by its own right. Beyond all the creatures, plants, and gems, there’s a miracle that has never happened before. A miracle that makes this world not a prison or a battleground, but a gateway to the purest form of harmony. Can’t you sense it?” “…” “…” “…” “Spike?” “Why did you save me?” “What?” “When I first fell down here, I nearly drowned in the ocean. Then, I saw you telling me to swim.” “…” “I tried to swim to shore, but I couldn’t. I can’t remember much, but I’m sure of one thing. You were there. You helped me reach the shore. But then, you left me.” “…” “I would have starved to death, but then you appeared and spurred me on. Without you, I would never have found that gem quarry. I never would have thought to study all these creatures. I wouldn’t have known that mantis was stalking me. I wouldn’t have escaped those log beasts or the centipede. I would have gone insane already and killed someone.” “…” “I just don’t understand why. Why are you helping me? And why did you save me from drowning?” “I didn’t do anything that you couldn’t have done yourself.” “But you, and – and the voice. Why do you keep helping me? Why do you want me to survive?” “Don’t you want to survive?” “After being down here for so long,” Spike stared at his thatched ceiling and walls, with a vacant expression, “I’m starting to wish I drowned in the ocean. That I’d never come to this nightmare.” “Nightmare? Is that really what you think of this place?” “…” “Then maybe I was wrong to help you.” Spike sat up as Sir Knight stormed towards the doorway. He paused at the entrance. “This place isn’t a pit of suffering. It’s nature behaving as it should. But if you really can’t see this place as anything but misery,” Sir Knight left the sentence hanging for a moment, as though he expected something from Spike, but quickly disappeared into Underworld. Then that’s what it will become for you. Before Spike could speak, Sir Knight and the voice were gone. Sitting in silence even with the forest symphony, Spike feared he lost more friends today and soon he would lose many more. Twilight, Rarity, Cadence, Shining Armor, Applejack, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, … ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The knight reached the princess’ chambers with a handful of soldiers by his side. He called her name, but no one answered. He ordered the soldiers to spread out and search for survivors. His eyes darted around the rubble for any trace of life. A grey hoof poked out from rocks. Rushing over, the knight cleared the debris and pulled out a grey stallion that he recognized as one of the royal guard. Noticing this, the other guards surrounded him and assisted in bandaging his wounds. The stallion moaned and tried to rise to his hooves. “Don’t move,” the knight gently laid his hands on the stallion’s shoulders. “I’m going to get you proper care.” “No,” a feeble voice wheezed. “Have to save the princess.” The knight tried not to gaze at the rubble and make the stallion suffer over his failure. He feared the worst, and could only pray he was wrong. “He had powers all along. He captured her majesty in his dark magic and took her,” the soldier coughed. “Wait, her majesty is alive?” The knight felt hope in his heart for a moment. “Where?” “Arch Mage … taking her to his castle,” the soldier stared at the knight’s eyes in desperation. “Have to save her.” “I will,” the knight soothed his injured comrade. Finally at ease, the soldier’s taut body let go, his eyes closed. The knight bowed his head in a moment of reverence. Then, he turned to his fellow knights and ordered two of them to stay with their comrade and do what they could, instructed one to pass down his orders that every other knight remain in the kingdom to protect the civilians from another potential raid, and told the rest of the guards to follow him. He raced down the corridors and left the burning tower, trusting his and the princess’ second in commands to regulate the kingdom in his absence. Running like the wind, he and the knights headed for the dark land.