//------------------------------//
// Chapter 1 Pack Slayer 
// Story: Hexers and the Accursed Third Nation 
// by MadDonut 
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	He fired one arrow into the darkness. It sailed passed his vision and embedded itself missing the target. Quickly he back peddled hammering in another wooden bolt, this soaken pony running for his life. He could hear the scurry and the growls and snarls as wolves themselves stocked in the foliage, around trees and over bushes as they collaborated with one another, tracking their prey, running him down in the darkest part of the night with only the faintest of stars to guide him away from danger.
He ran over a mound, heard jaws snap. He turned yanking himself around relying on his hearing alone to pinpoint the origin and fired. There was a raw thud accompanied with a faint squelch. ‘Wounded,’ he thought to himself. It wasn’t the sound of a death cry.
The pack didn’t let up. This particular one, eight in number, now turned to seven useful bodies. They knew he wasn’t a deer or ox or cow at that. They knew he was something smarter but all the same something to eat nonetheless. For what he made up for in intelligence they knew could be countered by utter exhaustion and fatigue.
Mace had kept track his remaining shots: Ten explosive bolts, sixteen normal wooden bolts. He couldn’t go wasting any more shots in the dark of night even in this critical circumstance. Even with this wisdom could he even last until day? Only a few hours in and many more to go. It would be a miracle if he did. Even with his extensive experience, great conditioning and excellent stamina, wolves as a beast were born of the wild. They naturally knew better.
He blindly bounced off a tree but continued to race forward keeping them behind him preventing them from surrounding. He heard the pounding of paws and a moment later he was tackled to the ground. The wolf buried its fangs into his armor and equipment, biting into the crossbow at his side. He struggled and wiggled and broke free turning to face the wolf and firing one bolt to the skull as he scampered to his hooves. It let out a weak whimper before falling dead.
Another pounced but he heard it. Ducking under the flying wolf he firing his second bolt wounding it. He hammered one shot before another one charged him but Mace wrapped his hooves around the underside of the wolf and with his strength, threw it against a tree slamming its body as hard as he could against the harden bark. It scampered away retreating back to his pack already having closed in on him.
“Ah C'mon you all!” he shouted in frustration as he rapidly spun around with his ears sharpening in on the closest sound. He fried. ‘Miss,’ but it caused the wolf to hold off his attack until his next opening. He hammered another shot into his left sided crossbow and in his right he hammered one explosive bolt. The gears and springs wined with complaint. A side affect from landing in the great lake of Carridian of bad tasting, heavily salted water where there is no out flow but where almost every significant river flows to in the end.
He backed into a tree franticly looking around for the next attacker. ‘There!’ he fired and rolled out of the way just as the limp carcase of his kill rammed into the tree, dead.
Six alive one still wounded making five useful bodies. 
There was a howl immediately cut off by a well placed bolt from Mace with ears on alert. The wolf tried calling for reinforcements to fortify their numbers. Four useful bodies, thirteen normal bolts and ten explosives. “Hurry one now!” he taunted again still tired, still weary. “I can do this all night,” he lowered his left sight, something he almost never did but he needed the extra accuracy if he was going to fire an explosive bolt.
There was another call. This time a distance howl. Seems heard the call for numbers and were now on there way. The four wolves stalking him wouldn’t make any rash engagements until the others got here leaving Mace with the only option to continue running in hopes he finds a proper way of evading them as they stayed tight on his hooves.
Adrenaline still coursing and night vision withstanding, he continued fast as before leaping over rocks dodging trees sprinting the tall clear grass openings between canopies. East, he would keep running east. That was his only goal was to continue east until he found Noriphmy how ever far it was.
Behind he could hear the four beginning to converge so he artfully darted around a few choice trees attempting to bottleneck them. Wiping his body back coming to a skidding halt he lined up his left crosshairs aimed his head, felt the wires of his crossbows adjust to match the positioning of his head and with one swift motion, flicked his left ear back firing one explosive bolt into the darkness.
It hit the dirt where as a big fiery dirt plumb shot into the air significantly injuring two leaving two more left to follow. “Just give up,” he panted. “Just give up you dafted wolves.” Another howl from the approaching group. This time much, much closer. Nine explosives, twelve normal, six more hours left in the night and then what? Wolves didn’t shy away from the light. His circumstances would be no different in the day than it was now but he didn’t adhere to logic in his desperate struggle. He only believed that if he can last until day he could ward off these attackers. These naturally wild hunters.
More barks, more pounding paws signifying the arrival of a new hunting pack. Seven in numbers, nine in total. Twelve shots leaving only a margin of four shots to survive. Unless they finally concede to defeat which from Maces perspective didn’t seem to be possible. They were too ambitious to give up such a fight.
With poor vision he tripped falling face first. Quickly he picked himself up but not before they took the opening. First attack and Mace was tackled to the ground once again and as he struggled beneath the one wolf trying to bite through his armor another one snapped at Maces leg. It barely nipped the falconer but even still he returned a heavy hoof to the face. Mace rolled his body over pushing the wolf on top to his side and a third leapt on him, and a fourth, and a fifth and soon not too long they were all on top of him. 
He screamed in terror as some bit into his plated mail which protected him but another got hold of his fore hoof crushing it in its fangs refusing to let go. He screamed again as he uselessly struggled, kicking, thrashing, bucking but nothing seemed to work. He got pawed in the face as one wolf tried to get a better angle. Another bit his exposed hind leg locking on with the strength of a death grip.
He didn’t cease to scream as he could feel both bones in both legs begin to be crushed along with the skin utterly torn and bleeding. He was convinced this was the end, that he had finally met his match. Not a beast, not a dragon but a pack of wolves. He was utterly disappointed in himself for not having lived up to his father. What ever name he went by during his final days before he was betrayed only weeks ago. Killed at the talents of a King in the presence of Noriphmy. Only now Mace himself dies at the mercy of ravenous wolves within the foreboding lands of Carridain. Near opposites and far less glorious.
As the wolves continued to tear and pin him down he wondered if his friends were in the very least alive. Did he save Joel for good? Did Igneous ever make it back on top of the bride with a string shot lodged in his shoulder. Did Kara die in the instance they were gone and did Dettetcheny too?
The last few thoughts before a hero died. Coming to terms with the inevitable his struggled began to lessen and the wolves never ceased their thrashing.
Suddenly there was a yelp and the sound of metal grinding against metal and the wolves quickly fell back away from Mace. His thoughts disoriented and senses dulled as he looked to see the wolves taking on a new target. One looking much like him and glistening with armor, again, like his, but his weapons were something that he never saw before, instead only heard about.
This pony took the chains in his magical grip yanking them around were they orbited his bodie. The blades cutting through trees and finding its mark within the wolf sticking lethally inside. He yanked at the same time bring a new line of chained down swiping past his own legs and hitting the nape of a wolf just behind him.
Fire suddenly appeared and with his power he spread it out in a circle of heat catching every nearby tree bush and blade of grass on fire, brightening the night and blinding Mace to the sudden exposure. As he weakly held a hoof up to his eyes he saw the silhouette of the figure. A pony reeling in chains with dripping blood as he attached the bladed end to the side of his armor allowing the rest to hang loose. As the wolves retreated this pony laughed and said, “Hahaha be gone and find game elsewhere.”
Then Mace noticed a new detail he found strikingly hard to miss. This pony had no catalyst yet he wielded weapons meant for a unicorn with ease no to mention the alchemy of fire too. Instead he bore wings but with the light of the now surrounding fire he could see these wings had no feathers. Only the frame of a celestial’s wing itself.
Fearing for his life he turned to leave but collapsed immediately after stepping on both of his terribly injured legs crying out in immense pain as they gave out beneath him not even bothering to withstand his weight. He rolled over, left fore hoof cupping his right tooth-torn leg screaming in pain. He would rather have taken a slayer arrow than this.
“Hey,” came the familiar voice of the stranger who had saved him. “Stop, let me help you.”
He shuddered in agony. If this pony said he wanted to help they by all means why should Mace prevent him from doing so. “Grsh, just, argh, do it,” he moaned.
With haist the stranger examined the wounds even as the fire burned on. This Hexer’s expert opinion told him Mace was seriously injured but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of. He nodded to himself while Mace continued to grimace with eyes shut tight. The stranger put a hoof up to his head concentrated for a bit and pulled it away with a orb of light, small as it was, the size of a marble. “Sit still, sit still,” he bidded. “I don't want to mishandle this.” Raising his hoof he aimed for the chest to spread the healing properties of his light magic all over the body making him well again. Accuracy was kea but the worst that could happen was he end up in a state much better just not as great as he could be if he did handled it properly.
Bringing his hoof down he hit Mace center in the chest upon his armor that covered his body. The white orb of light magic phased through the armor and was immediately taken in by the body were as Mace began to subside into ease. He watched as his wounds stopped bleeding and soon after slowly began to close up.
He sat up from where he was armor, crossbows and all. Enamored by the sight of his wounds slowly pulling themselves together right before his eyes he said, “What kind of light magic is this?” He asked although he already knew it was that of the healing variety but he never witnessed light magic this potent before.
The stranger patted Mace on the back with a grin on his face and said, “That my friend is Hexer healing magic for ya. Fancy it, yes?”
It took him a moment to catch on but then in great interest he said, “Hexer?” Recollection occurred and he jumped to his newly healed hooves. “Hexer!” he yelled in surprise. “Your a Hexer? Wha, I thought there was no more Hexers. Yourger argh Hexer?!!” Yourger argh being mumbo jumbo speech not holding any type of meaning in Maces surprised state. He wanted to be in disbelief, to doubt but there he was right there just as stories and legends described them. 
Strong glistening armor with chains that snaked across the plates of metal anchored to tracks made to guide them round and where the chains met the last link there was two blades protruding outward in a pick axe like form.
He held up a hoof and said, “yes I am a Hexer. Most ponies get just as excited but I can say you're a bit toned down from the rest. Just a smidge.” He detached one of his bladed chained ends and suddenly the two blades pivoted coming together to form a spear head, but at the length it held it might have well been a piked end.
“I didn’t think Hexers wondered.” he said eyeing the blade. “I thought they had other things to do,”
“Like what?” He snickered. “Are you not grateful I rescued you,” he asked. “I was fortunate to happen upon you to begin with.” Then he tilted his head in curiosity at Mace and said, “Actually just what were you doing this far into Carridian? How did you make it this far if you nearly died just this night?”
Mace dropped his head. Well that's going to be a hard question to answer. “Uh…” he clumsily began as he wondered exactly how he was going to start off. “Well… I met this character named Joel…”
He went into story about his long journey with Igneous, Kara and Joel along with Hilliph. They were sent to aquire the light magic of Aminus before the group known as the Gekies Getuies did. However complications within this journey occurred and now the day was bright with hardly a cloud in sight but clouds to be had around regardless. In the middle of the land laid a vast lake so large the other end couldn’t be seen from ground level. Surrounding this lake for half a mile on all fronts was nothing but salted sand and soon after grass that dared to grow and trees slower to brave forward as the grass itself.
It was a peaceful day were nothing unusual was supposed to happen only a rift of light in the sky over this great lake opened up spilling out rocks, debris and unadulterated chaos as it continuously poured material out of thin air sending it crashing to the water sending waves flying in all directions.
Suddenly out of the rift a colossal dark figure dropped from above back facing the ground as it roared in defeat and along with it a pony screaming in terror as he fell too. Aminus crashed into the water sending tidal waves crashing ashore far past the treeline insuring the land would soon go sterile do to the water's high concentration in salt.
Mace washed ashore wheezing and coughing as huge plumes of steam erupted into the air. Aminus roared with rage hidden behind the smoke screen and Mace got the senses to run away so he did dragging his body through the retreating waters ignoring the awful smell associated, focusing only on getting away. Far away.
Aminus dragged his huge, scaly, black head around and as he did he saw every tree, bush, grass and living animal retreating from the sudden cataclysmic event unfolding before them. Then through the smoke screen he set his sights on Mace running for dear life. “Ar’ I see you Mace Volcod,” his voice boomed as he drug every word out, stretching his massive claws forward resting them below the surface of the lake as he pulled himself forward. His natural born fire spewing from the cracks of his scales igniting the water and turning it to vapor. 
The earth pony only seemed to be motivated to move faster and faster, but Aminus and his colossal size only closed the distance bring his leviathan claws crashing down on the pony entrapping him within his steady grasp. “Ah-I have you,” He said pulling his massive body onto land crawling on all fours with tail waving high in the air blowing trees arry with every flick of its end.
Mace thought this was it. ‘I'm done. I'm gonna die,’ he thought. ‘This dragon is going to eat me and soon after I’ll be nothing.’ he was beginning to bake underneath the heat of his claws. His scales secreted the life of fire itself giving his body as a whole an ominous red glow to the black exterior color.
But suddenly this great dragon huffed and collapses to the ground dropping Mace safely to the floor. Mace kicked himself away against a tree and the Dragon loudly said, “no. Mortal. Don’t run. I-It's tiring.”
This threw Mace off. This dragon minutes ago was intent to kill throwing magic left and right using his alchemy to collapse the fortress but wait. He remembered just before he fell Joel threw his stolen dark magic destroying his alchemy but if it was destroyed why did he still breath and secret fire?
“Ha,” politely scoffed the Hexer. “A dragon doesn't need alchemy to wield fire. Other elements yes but fire is natural to the creature. Flows within the blood.” Mace having understood the logic behind the statement continued on with the reacountaning.
The dragon breathed in really deeply exhaling smoke out of its fanged mouth and nostrils blowing trees off balance giving Mace a new mane style: Frizzled to say the least.
It laid its monolithic head on the soft terrain, deprived of energy and imprinting his scales upon the land itself. His wings, lacking skin to glide on but remained only the frame like the Hexer prior, outstretched and fell to the ground too. ‘Is he dying?’ Mace thought to himself as the tree blew in the breath of the dragon.
Aminus growled as he exhaled, it being low and thunderous. His bright yellow slitted eyes remained open and trained on Mace the entire time piercing his soul. “You,” the dragon said. “Do I look powerful?” What kind of question was that. This was a godlike being yet it acted so mortal. “Do I look powerful?” he asked again still lying half submerged beneath the lake, letting more steam rise above, resting it seemed.
“Powerful?” he asked. This was Aminus the Colossal black Dragon. The very one who destroyed all of Carridian placing a curse on Freath and wasting all of Istudious. Well most of it really. “I-I don’t.”
“Gaze at me,” he commanded tiredly with hardly a shift of his gaw. “Alchemy shattered, light magic spent. Unable to soar. Dark magic is all I hold now. You lainneth Falconers. You did this? No it was the dark magic of Noriphmy, that stallion… Joel.” He said his name again letting it hang in the air for a long time. “He is not of Carridian or this world. How did you happen upon him?”
“Found him,” he said quietly looking to the ground doing his best not to provoke the colossal dragon.
Again the dragon exhaled tiredly. “He weakened me. That dark magic. Granted to him by Noriphmy himself. The dragon slayer many do call. Imprisoner seems to me.” He sat there for moments more. “That king. My salvation, grew doubtful in the end over the blood of a friend A covenant abandoner. His form is finalized. I should smite you little pony. But that is beneath me. Many many leagues below.” Again the torrent of wind as he exhaled. “You may run now little pony. I don't sport but I will return. Quenched with magic and set for the duty laid before. Mark my words. The words of a dragon.”