//------------------------------// // Remnants of the Forgotten // Story: Before the Fallout // by Gear Spring //------------------------------// Snowflakes gingerly fall from the swollen gray clouds, piling upon one in pure white mounds. The piles of white brow larger until they begin to tumble down the slope of the hut, landing in front of the door. A unicorn opens the wooden door of their home to find the snow blocking their path. The young colt rolls his eyes as his horn becomes aglow in a soft red light. That same luminescence encases the snow, as it levitates off the ground, and gently set aside beside his home. A smile returns to his red-furred face as he trots out into the village. Ponies are out and about under the sliver of sunlight the clouds allow. Every pony in the village are unicorns like him, using their magic to help clear the snowfall off their homes even as it continues to come down. “Good morning Dust Storm,” a pinky pony trots up to greet him. “Oh, hello Cherry Pit,” he answers her with a smile. “Do you have any plans today?” She blushes, “No, why, do you have something in mind?” “Oh, I was thinking,” the grin fades as his eyes catch something behind her. Sunlight is swallowed up by a shadow that seems to wash over the village like a blackened flood. The unicorn droops his ears at the sight, and when Cherry Pit turns around, she lets out a horrific scream that pierces the heavens. It is drowned out by a mighty roar. A bright green flash blinds the landscape. A gray hoof digs deep in the snow, sinking nearly a foot before it finds the frozen ground underneath. There is a fierce gust that blows at the white mane, sending it sprawling against the colt’s back. Magic erupts from his horn, showering his body in a golden light as it tugs down on his wizarding hat. The bells hanging from the brim jingle as the wind jostles them about. His horn stays lit as the pelting snow begins to bend around his body. For a moment he stops, as the golden glow around his body returns. From his saddlebag a compass float out, and comes before his muzzle. The yellow of his eyes glints as he watches the arrow swivel before settling in a direction off to his right. Giving a nod, the unicorn hovers his compass back into the bag, trotting onward. “It should not be much farther now,” he says to himself, pressing onward. Climbing up the gentle slope he manages to reach the summit. Looking out over the land, the stallion sees steam rising from the next hill over, the direction that he is heading. A grim look appears on his face. Down the slope he quickens his pace, turning into a full gallop. Snow is blown about his hooves as he starts the climb to the other summit. A moment he slips, but then magic encompasses his body, allowing him to levitate upwards for just a moment to put him back on the ground. Once settled, he continues the charge. At the top, he digs his hooves into the dirt, screeching to a stop. Where there was once life there is utter destruction. Snow has been voided of the landscape that stretches out before his eyes. Even the earth has been scorched to a wasteland red. Rather than soil it appears to jagged rock. Lines of ember cross through the coal-like ground, still glowing with heat. The young unicorn hesitantly puts a hoof down on the rock, but finds it only warm to the touch. Putting all four legs onto the ground, he begins walking toward devastation. Mist slithers from the earth, giving off a soft hissing sound. As he looks around, there are a number of buildings still sanding, although most have been reduced to a pile of smoldering wood. Those left appear to have been scorched. Roofs have caved in on themselves, walls blown open. One crumbles to the ground as the unicorn passes by. “What has happened here,” the unicorn stops to look around, stroking the tuff of white beard. Walking toward the center of the village, he finds a crater that travels ten feet deep. Molten rock hisses as steam rises from the glowing orange stones. The gray pony steps into the lips of the hole, only to have his hoof seared. He recoils, and places it in the soothing icy snow. At the very bottom of the pit, the ground is scorched. All of a sudden, there is a rustle in the snow, alerting the stallion. His horn begins to glow gold. A head pops out of a snow mound, blue fur standing against the white. Stumbling out of the frost is Dust Storm, whose hooves wobble as if he were a newborn. He tumbles to the ground, kicking up powder about him. The gray unicorn approaches hesitantly, the light from his horn causing a shadow to be cast over the fallen pony. “Help,” Dust Storm gasps. “Help.” “What has happened here?” The blue unicorn picks himself up out of the snow and turns to the bearded stallion. Empty eye sockets search desperately for the visitor, as Dust Storm blindly fumbles in the snow. Half of his fur is worn to nothing, as a sickening red pulsates through his barren flesh. Exposed ribs are bitten by the frost, tendrils of tendons clinging to flesh and muscle. A hoof fumbles through the air, and manages to touch the gray unicorn. All of a sudden, the injured pony opens his maw and attempts to bite the cloaked visitor. The gray colt leaps away, and points his horn at his attacker. Dust Storm is lifted off the ground as the golden aura surrounds his body. He snarls, snapping at the air in a blind rage. “What in the celestial bodies has happened to you,” he studies the vicious pony. “Something has warped you beyond the physical realm. I must know what has become of you and this village.” Stomping his hoof in the snow, the colt begins to draw intricate patterns. From the tip of his horn, a glowing droplet falls down to the ground like golden dew. It illuminates the markings, shining dimly as clouds begin to roll across the sky. “From the bounds beyond, let us turn back the hands of time,” he speaks calmly. “Return this pony to the land that lives, so that his end may be revealed.” There is a bright flash of light that covers the landscape, but quickly dies like a candle being snuffed by the wintry wind. Standing there in the snow is the pony Dust Storm. And yet, the blinded beast continues to float above him, growling as it attempts to find its surroundings. The blue pony that stands before the magic user is thinly transparent, as falling snow passes through his body. “What, what is going on?” he holds his head, looking around dizzily. “Calm yourself,” the gray stallion says. “I have brought back your soul to the land of the living, so that I may speak to you.” “I, but I just,” he looks up at himself. “Isn’t that me?” “Whatever has befallen your village has tainted your very essence,” he looks sullen. “That creature there is just a corrupted shell left behind of what has been wrought.” “Can’t you reverse this?” Dust Storm pleads. “You have me here, right?” “Alas, I can only call your soul to speak. Once a pony has passed, they cannot return. Now quickly, I have wasted too much time already. I must know what happened to your village.” Dust Storm looks distraught as he taps his hoof against his skull, as if to jostle his memories. “I remember,” he pauses. “There was a flash of green light.” “Did you see what caused it?” “I didn’t really get a good look, but it was something big.” Hearing that, the gray pony scrunches his snout. The golden light from his horn starts to flicker, as Dust Storm fades in and out of existence. “I am sorry, but I can no longer keep your soul to this world.” “W-Wait,” Dust shouts, “I can’t go yet. I need to see Cherry Pit one more time.” “Was she from this village?” “Y-Yes?” “Then you will not find her here. There is nothing left of this village.” Dust Storm nods solemnly, “Thank you for letting me know. But before I go, may I ask for your name?” “It is Starswirl,” the gray pony answers. “Thank you, Starswirl,” the blue stallion smiles even as he starts to fade. The soul of the pony vanishes, leaving not a trace to the world. Starswirl takes a calming, deep breath even as the body of Dust Storm plummets to the snow. The feral creature climbs to its hooves again, snarling as muddied snow clings to its exposed insides. “Young colt,” he says, tugging on the brim of his hat. “I shall do you a favor, and give you a proper burial…” His horn burns brightly with a golden glow as the creature charges him. The sun is setting on the frozen north, casting a long shadow over the tundra. Winds howl like timber wolves singing to the full moon. Ice blows across the boundless planes, forcing Starswirl to conjure his magic to push the frost aside. Holding a hoof over his head, he shields the pouring snow from his eyes. Out in the distance, he spies the slithering white smoke rising from the horizon. He takes a step forward, and immediately his hooves sink into the snow up until it touches his underbelly. Closing his eyes, the golden aura leaves his body, allowing the elements to bombard his body. It retreats to the center of his horn, converging to a tip. Pointing it toward the steam, a golden beam erupts through the snow. It slices through the icy floor, unveiling the luscious green buried three feet beneath. The stallion gallops across the landscape. As he rides toward the horizon, the steam grows larger. Breaking over the threshold he spies spines towering like mountains. They give off a green glow of their own. Closer he gets, the creature appears itself before him. A body as black as obsidian seemingly blends into the growing darkness. Claws, fangs, and spines emerge through the veil of shadows with a radioactive glow. Two enormous wings sprout from its forearms like that of a bat. Three sets of eyes glow green on either side, as it lifts its serpentine neck to watch the approaching pony. The creature opens its mouth, its maw splits apart like four petals with rose of razor sharp teeth. From the depths of its gullet, a glowing emerald light spews forth. Starswirl encases his body in the golden light of his magic just as the green energy washes over him. It melts the snow about him, and turns the grass a deadened brown, yet the magical colt emerges unharmed. He stomps his hoof against the ground, and gives an angry snort. “Foul creature from the forgotten age,” he bellows, “Your treachery shall be put to an end.” The golden glow expands from his body, pushing outwards in a sweeping dome. Before it reaches the creature, the wyvern like beast opens its wings to take flight. He watches the creature soar, as a glow of green explodes from its body. Smoke of a similar color spews out over the lands. Starswirl teleports away. From the distance, he watches as a mushroom cloud reaches toward the sky, mixing itself with the clouds. In the veil, he searches for the beast. In the thick gray, he spies the glowing green. Magic erupts from his horn again, as the ground beneath his hooves breaks from the rest of the earth, levitating high to join the creature in the sky. Standing his ground, he begins firing off beams of light at the creature. It body seemingly consumes the magic, as it deteriorates before it can touch its blackened hide. The beast breaks through the cloud line. Its mouth splits open to release a concentrated bile of radioactive sludge. It splashes on his earthly platform, deteriorating it in an instant. The creature swoops down onto Starswirl, its mouth open again as its whole body glows green again. Just as the green flash of light erupts from his body, Starswirl teleports again, but this time he reappears hovering just above the beast. His horn blazes with energy as he directs that power downwards, striking the creature in the spine. It sends the monster spiraling downwards to the ground. As it strikes the ground, the magical unicorn seemingly crafts a road of gold beneath his hooves as he charges downwards toward his fallen foe. Before the creature can get up, the horn flashes with light again. Chains magically appear about the beast, pinning it to the ground. It struggles to break free from the bindings. From his saddlebag, Starswirl floats a book out before him. His horn radiates even brighter as the pages fly open. Arcane insignias appear across his body. “Creature of the forgotten age,” he shouts, feeling the strain of the spell. “Be captured within the pages of the tome, forever shall it be your tomb. Within its bindings you may lurk, but harm the lands no more. Only when you are uttered may you ever be set free!” A beam of light shoots from the book and strikes the creature. It lets out a horrific shriek as the body begins to break apart like crumbling leaves. Turning into particles, it spills toward the book, falling inside the pages. Starswirl holds the spell until the last of the creature vanishes within its bindings. He collapses to the ground, sweat pouring down his brow. Collapsing into the snow, the book falls in front of his face. He looks to see the image of the creature etched now only in ink. Its image fades in the background as a spell is written over its body. A smile appears across his muzzle, as he shuts his eyes. Years later… Fan fair plays in the background of the royal palace. Guards are stationed on either side of a long hallway, garnished in gilded armor. Down the stretch of red carpet stands a throne with a white alicorn sitting upon its seat. A mane of multiple colors flows elegantly, carried along an unseeing, unfeeling breeze. Sitting atop her head is a golden crown. Approaching the princess is Starswirl, looking haggard. The length of his beard reaches nearly down to the floor. Deep circles form underneath his eyes, weary of sleep. Despite his appearance, he carries himself with his head held high. As he stands before Celestia, he gives a gracious bow. “Please, my dearest friend,” she says sweetly to him. “There is no need for such formalities.” “It is a matter of circumstance,” he says. “After all, it would be rude not to on your coronation day.” Celestia smiles, “It would seem I should expect such changes.” “As should your sister, Luna,” he lifts his head. “Well, I am still glad that you could come to see me.” “Oh, princess,” the aged colt speaks, “I did not come just to say hello. I have come to bring you a gift for you and Equestria.” From his saddlebag floats a book of brown tome. Metal rings binds its pages together, and the cover looks to be worn. Emblazoned on the cover are the constellations spiraling around the center of the book. “This is a collection of my work,” he says with a smile. “Years of research and exploration over our lands. There are many spells in this book. Some that could change Equestria; for better or worse. I wish for you to keep it.” “Are you sure?” Celestia seems taken aback. He nods, “I am afraid that journeys have finally caught up to me. I do not wish for them to fall in the wrong hands. Just, just promise me that you will not carelessly use the spells. Some of them are from an age long forgotten.”