Anima Mea Tenebre

by Nixus

Unlocking the Power Within

“What do you mean incalculable damage?” Dante hissed, anger evident in his voice. Fluttershy backed away from the crystal cowering as he grabbed it off the floor. “Why were we not told about this?”

I chose him for the team knowing full well the risks involved, The image flickered as Feinman shifted in his seat. He was not smiling, only looking forwards with a mask of calm confidence. Fluttershy could see, countless years of knowledge in the man’s eyes. There was no doubt in his posture, he seemed absolutely sure in his plan. However, the reasoning behind my decision lies not in the present but rather in the past. More specifically, it was when I first came to understand his peculiar ability.

“Explain...” Dante growled. Fluttershy and Twilight gaped at his sudden change in behaviour. Something had switched in him, a sudden anger creeping in his voice. The normally calm and collected leader of the four was barely containing his frustration. Had it been the real man behind the holographic projection both mares had no doubt Dante would have lost it. Even Coppa and Moe seemed taken aback from this sudden change in behaviour and had resigned themselves to silence.

“Dante I’m sure it will explain,” Twilight said as she approached him. Dante sighed as her hoof made contact with his shoulder. His entire frame visibly relaxed as Feinman coughed into his hand. “Now where were we...”

“Probably the part where principle Feinman was going to explain his concerns,” Moe interjected as he sat down. Coppa followed suit while Fluttershy and Twilight remained on their hooves. Dante in the meantime was flicking his gaze between the report and the image. Moe gestured towards Fluttershy who squeaked in surprise. “Fluttershy could you get it to talk?”

“Oh umm yes,,,” She said quietly as she approached the wavering image. “Could you tell us what is wrong with Sam’s magic. If it’s okay with you of course.”

If you wish to know about his ability then I will have to explain his heritage and the nature of his power. Is that what you would like?

“Yes please...”

Very well, Feinman said as he leaned back in his chair. Sam is the progeny of one of the oldest Felpier clans. The Moritsugu clan is a family with long roots dating back to the founding of the country. Their presence in any sort of conflict has been a deciding factor in who will come out the victor or the victim. No other clans have come close in matching their sheer ferocity and deadly skill. To put it simply, they are masters in all that they pursue.

“But what about Sam?” Fluttershy questioned. Her head tilted to the side as her anxiety grew. She wanted to know exactly how she could help Sam and how his ability could affect them all. “What is wrong with him?”

Sam’s family consists of both his parents as well as four siblings. His mother was Clan leader Tanaba’s second wife, a western woman by the name of lady Evelyn. The marriage was seen as controversial due to his mother’s heritage. This is due to the fact that Eastern Felpier’s generally do not associate with those from the west due to ancient feuds. Nevertheless, Sam was the firstborn son from that union. As the firstborn, he was expected to inherit the entire estate in the event of his father’s death. At the same time, Sam was also expected to master all aspects of the clan’s lifestyle. I learned that from the age of seven and onward, his life was centered on simply learning how to be the next great warlord of his clan.

“A warlord?” Fluttershy’s shocked tone was matched by Twilight’s own surprise as she rose to her hooves. Each of the students looked at the two mares as if their surprise were the strangest things they had heard.

“It’s not surprising,” Coppa said waving his hands in mock exasperation. “The Felpiers are probably one of the more conflict oriented races besides the Drakes.”

“How can you act like this isn’t a big deal? Equestria hasn’t had any major conflict since its creation.” Twilight demanded stamping her hoof on the floor. “Now we find out that one of you is a warlord in training. What else are you hiding from us?”

“Sam may or may not be partially evil if that really matters to you...” Coppa murmured as he backed away from Twilight. The unicorn’s mane began to frazzle and looked as though it was beginning to smoke. Coppa raised his hands as Twilight began to march towards him. “It’s not that uncommon where we come from!”

“How can you say that?!” Fluttershy shouted with more force than necessary, blowing over Coppa and Moe. She covered her mouth in surprise as she whispered apologies for her actions. Once she regained herself, she repeated her question, this time with much less force. “Why would you call him that?”

“Coppa is telling the truth, Sam’s affinity was leaning towards evil. He was more in the category of neutral evil,” Dante said in a cold tone. Fluttershy and Twilight moved towards him as he turned the report towards them. His finger went to one of the symbols and circled the one located under Sam’s name. “Being evil doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re inherently destructive. Certain classes require your affinity to lean towards one of the three. In Sam’s case, a Samurai can be either good or evil.”

“What do you mean he was evil?” Twilight asked as she levitated a scroll in front of her. Dante let out a groan, obviously irritated that the conversation was stagnating on Sam’s affinity. “Did you reform him somehow?”

“No, it only happens if you request it specifically. Some magicians are able to modify your affinity through hypnosis,” Dante explained pointing towards Feinman. “It’s not perfect but the majority of their thought process is redirected.”

“Are there any drawbacks?” Twilight asked in a slightly anxious tone. Dante nodded his tired eyes glancing at the page.

“Not everything can be changed. Some aspects of the previous affinity will still be present. I can only assume that Sam still has moments where he reverts to his old self.”

“Why would he do that though?” Fluttershy directed her question to the image rather than Dante. She hoped that the topic may have been covered and could shed some light on just what was wrong with Sam. “Why would he change himself?”

The nature of Sam’s ability directly correlates to both his affinity and his magic. There is a theory that the nature of magic is not something that is governed by will and wisdom but rather by one's emotions.

“Pascal’s theory of emotion,” Dante said quietly. He rubbed his temple with a free hand and groaned in frustration. “The theory that the nature of one’s magic is fluid and subject to change based on the emotions of the wielder. The example he used was comparing the heat coming of a Wizards fire spell in direct comparison to the wizard’s state of mind. The more frustrated the wizard grew, the more violent the flames became.”

“So it’s like Unicorn magic,” Twilight added excitedly. “The more emotion the pony puts into it’s spell, the more powerful it becomes.”

“Only in this case there is an added danger.”

“What’s that?”

“Magic in our world is unpredictable. Use too much and you risk killing yourself from exhaustion. Store too much within yourself and you risk overloading your body. In this case, if the wielders emotions become too conflicted, then the magic may attack them.”

“Then why are we waiting! We need to go help Sam!” Twilight said only to be silenced by Dante. He nodded towards Coppa and Moe who got up and left the building silently. They closed the door behind them leaving the three alone.

“We still haven’t figured out what Sam’s ability is.” Dante replied calmly. “Coppa and Moe will head over to where they last saw him. Unless Sam’s life is at risk, we need to take our approach carefully.”

Fluttershy nodded but felt the need to protest. Sam was in danger and for once in her life she felt like she needed to put herself in danger to help him. There was no fear in her mind, only a sense that Sam needed all the care she could give him. “What type of magic does Sam have though?”

Sam’s magic is something that many scholars have struggled to understand throughout the years. Unlike regular magic users, he cannot cast spells but is instead surrounded by a thin veil of magic. He is limited to a small sphere of influence near his body where his magic can directly touch. This ability is scientifically known as Etheric Projection. However, in more recent times, the ability has been referred to as Magical Aura.

The sudden sound of books toppling over resounded as Dante rose to his feet. Quickly he grabbed his staff before bolting out the door. Fluttershy and Twilight stared in shock at his sudden actions only snapping out of it when Dante reappeared in the doorway.

“We need to find Sam now!”

*****

Sam felt small warmth in his chest as he drifted to the depths of the bog. His arms and legs remained immobile as the ice locked them in position. He was drifting in and out of consciousness, barely staying awake as the cold sapped his strength. Past memories flashed in his mind, snapshots of an earlier time. One familiar one seemed to repeat itself, echoing in his mind as he sunk. An image of his father and him sitting alone in front of a spring, watching as the pink petals of a cherry flew off in the wind. It was the night just before he decided to stop speaking a night he would never forget.

“Sam, you mustn't blame yourself for this inability. Sometimes we are given hurdles that are designed to test our spirits. You just need to persevere and find your own path.”

“Father, I’ve tried everything. No matter what I do I can’t harness the power that you and grandfather possessed. If I don’t have the skill then how can I lead the clan?”

“So is that what you are worried about? Your lack of power?”

“Our ancestors were able to control the everything from here to Howler Lake. They couldn’t have done that if they were not powerful. I want to be like them, I want to have the same power they did.”

“Samuel, that was during a time of great unrest. If you wish to be like them then all you will find in the end is disappointment. Do you remember what your grandfather asked when you started your studies?”

“What does it truly mean to be a Samurai? What can come from devoting yourself utterly to a set of moral principles? What form of fulfillment can come from seeking both, a stillness of your mind, and mastery in the way of the sword?” Sam repeated as if the conversation had happened the previous night. He had yet to find a clear answer to that question. He had spent much of his time trying to figure out something that would qualify as correct response.

“That’s correct, have you figured out an answer yet?”

“No...” Sam replied as he looked on as a petal landed in the spring sending ripples throughout. “Nothing has come to mind yet."s

“I never expected you to have an answer. It is a rhetorical question after all.”

“So grandfather was just wasting my time?”

“No, he does such things for a reason. It’s more of a lesson designed to promote certain ideas within your mind. He did the same to me when I was your age. He’ll ask you again when you see him the next time. He doesn’t expect an answer but I’m sure you’ll give one anyways.”

“What does it have to do with my problem though?”

“Ask yourself this then: What is power?”

“That’s simple, power is what separates the strong from the weak.”

“An archaic view but it is partially correct. What I meant was what it is and where does it come from? What is the source of power? Is it the strength of your muscles, the speed of your reflexes? Does it have to do with the reaches of your knowledge or the depth of your wisdom?”

“Maybe it is all of those things but why are you asking me this?”

Because my son, you do have power. More than many of the creatures that inhabit this world. However...”

“What is it Father?”

Tanaba’s features grew dark as the last of the petals fell into the pool. A heavy sigh escaped from his lips as he looked towards his son. “You said that you wished to have power like me? Forget that dream Sam, find a reason other than conforming to the ancestors of our clan. It will make you realize why power is useless.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was young like you, full of naive hopes and dreams. I desired to be the best. I wanted to impress my own father and gain the respect of our clan. I grew powerful like you said, but in turn I grew foolish. I felt as though no one could touch me, let alone try to oppose me.”

“It took only a moment. A single moment for me to understand what a fool I had been. A second of absence... and in turn a treasure I held dearly was taken from me. I found out then that power meant nothing. For what reason did I need strength, speed or knowledge if I could not use it defend my beliefs or those closest to me? I asked myself a number of questions that day. Questions that changed me just as it will change you once you find yourself in the same position.”

“What is that father?”

“Why did I need power if I had no reason to pursue it? Where was I when my power was needed most? Where was I when she needed me the most? Power is useless without a goal for it to be directed towards. Simply wishing for power will get you nothing; you need a reason to become powerful. Only then will you find what you are looking for.”

“How will I know then? How can I know what is destined of me? What I need to protect or strive for?”

“Your heart will guide you. Your mind can be clouded by doubt but it is your heart that will lead on the right path. Protecting something that you hold close to your heart is the only reason we Samurai exist. Follow that and you will unlock your full potential someday. Until then all you can do is wait.”

The memory drifted off as Sam’s mind filled with regret. He had not found a reason yet. Yet something inside him had awakened and like a raging beast, was now threatening to end his very life. He didn’t understand what his power was, only that something had triggered it. But what? What reason did his mind and body have to suddenly produce this power? His mind drifted to the previous night and the promise he had made himself.

Was it that? Was his desire to protect the mare that had treated him, housed him, and even fed him causing his powers to activate? It seemed like the proper motivation, his desire to emulate his father’s word had finally given way to a new power. If he could have laughed at the irony then the whole world would have known it. Yet his jaw was trapped shut, the water around his mouth freezing ever so slowly.

He was going to die. He knew that much. Slowly freezing to death or suffocating as the ice grew past his face. Yet he no longer paid much attention to what was going to happen to him as he thought about his short period of friendship with Fluttershy. How in such a short time he realized how much he enjoyed simply talking with her, even being near her. But why? Why… why did the thought of her face when she would hear the news of his demise was the hurt so much? The simple look of devastation when they would pull his corpse out of bog and the tears she would shed over him.

No...

He was not going to let that happen. Not while he was still able to think freely. He struggled violently, using every ounce of strength to fight the icy bonds restraining him. His muscles tensed and contracted as he flexed them. He could feel the ice resisting his efforts but with each attempt, cracks began to appear on the surface.

Slowly he could feel the ice at his joints give way, allowing him to move his arms. The ice around his knees soon gave way afterwards, allowing him to move his joints. Running out of time, he could feel his lungs scream at him for air as he began awkwardly swimming to the surface. The ice resisted his efforts at first but his persistence paid off as he slowly approached the surface.

Just as his head was about break out of the surface a shadow overcame the bog. Sam didn’t pause as the same large hand burst through the water and grabbed him. He was ripped out of the bog and tossed aside like a rag-doll, slamming into a tree. The impact was softened by the ice around his chest, which shattered like glass as he fell to the ground. The ice that cemented his mouth shut flaked away allowing him to take in his first gasps of air. Cool air filled his lungs, replacing the traces of water that he was heaving out of his body. A few trace amounts of frost were still present on his clothes. However, his main concern was turned to what stood before him.

A large stone statue stood in front of him, slightly covered by the slime creature. It had to have been at least twice his size as it stood on its two human like legs. Moss and plants grew from the cracks in its ancient stony armour. The slime creature was covering its head, tendrils wrapping around the statues broken joints and operating it like a living being. Its left hand held a large round shield, emblazoned with the same sun motif that sat in the middle of its chest. A large straight sword that was nearly as wide as him was held in its right moss covered gauntlet.

The horrible sound of rocks scraping against each other filled the air as the possessed statue moved forward. It raised its sword, preparing to strike as its gait quickened. Sam quickly cartwheeled out of the way as the sword bit into the ground. The large blade crushed the tree, causing dirt and splinters to explode everywhere as it crashed into the ground.

Sam went for his sword, but held back at the last moment. The steel of his blade would do nothing against the solid stone body. He needed to break the body, smash it to pieces, and contain the creature animating it. He ducked under another swing from the monster, backpedaling as the blade cleaved through another tree.

Sweat broke out on his forehead, mixing with the dampness left behind from the bog water. He watched with cold fear as the statue turned its head, lifeless stone eyes seemingly staring straight through him. It ran towards him again, levelling its sword to stab through him. The blade passed through the air with a whine as it came close. Sam lowered himself at the last moment, coiling his legs as he collected himself. He had no idea what he was doing but something told him go on, press forward and end this.

He jumped at the last second, vaulting over the tip of the blade as it pierced through the tree. He landed, rolling on the flat of the blade as it trapped itself in the wood. He quickly got to his feet, running along the length of the blade before jumping onto the statue’s body.He clung tightly to the moss, using it and the cracks as handholds to clamber up the huge body. He pulled himself up higher, taking care to avoid the liquid as it hissed and attempted to strike him. One tendril managed to wrap around his arm, squeezing it painfully. He tried to rip his limb away from it but the tendril only squeezed harder drawing a pained snarl from Sam.

His pain turned to fury as he struggled against it. Much to his confusion, the slimy being screamed as ice slowly crept along it. Sam quickly ripped his arm away from it, shattering the frozen tendril before climbing up onto the statues shoulder.

Without hesitating, he ripped out his sword and shoved it into the slime coating the head of the statue. The blade sunk all the way to the hilt before reaching the stone surface underneath the coating. Sam focused his anger, cursing as the statue tried to shake him off. Ice formed faster than he thought possible growing out from the blade and encasing the head. Another scream resounded from the creature this time, of frustration as it ripped the sword from the tree and shook Sam off.

Sam rolled over the ground, sword falling from his hand as he hit the packed earth. He grabbed his sword, just in time to flip out of the way as the blade came crashing down where he was. The statue reversed the direction of the swing at the last moment, attempting a backhand swipe at Sam. He jumped over the attack, the blade almost catching his tail. He righted himself just in time to see the shield of the statue come towards him.

His entire body exploded in pain as the ancient stone shield smashed into his side. He flew backwards into the air landing on the ground gasping in agony. The attack had probably crushed some of his ribs, he was sure of that. Every breath literally felt like a fire burning in his chest. Small droplets of red fell from a gash in his forehead, collecting in a small crimson pool beneath him. His sword was deeply embedded in a tree, too deep for him to pull out in time. The taste of iron filled his mouth as he coughed up blood. Everything felt cold again, like all heat was being sucked away from him. Frost coated the ground as Sam got to his knees, desperate to get away. A thought came to mind as he backed away, stumbling away from the advancing statue. A small hope that help may be on its way.

"I won't go out this way...” He groaned weakly as he fell on to his back. He stared helplessly as the statue approached slowly, dropping its shield in favor of using both hands for the sword. It pointed it downwards hovering over Sam as it reared back before the blade began its descent. Sam caught a glint of steel flying through the air just as his life flashed before his eyes once more.

Comments

[cannonshots]

Nice chapter dude liked it