Duel of the Fates
Built into an old and gnarled—but still-living—tree deep within the Everfree Forest, the interior of a little-known, humble dwelling was an exotic one, at least by Equestrian standards. Several strange, colorful masks made from some unknown wood and originating from some foreign culture hung from the walls. A large, cast iron cauldron rested at the center of the space, currently empty but clearly showing signs of dedicated use over many years. Numerous jars of various apothecarial goods made from local flora lined the shelves or hung from overarching branches against the ceiling. A modest bed could be found tucked away in a small alcove in the corner, and a few flickering candles dimly lit the small domicile with an eerie yellow incandescence.
It was a strange home, but for a certain zebra, it was still home.
Said zebra was currently balanced on her head on a wooden pole about her length, a little ways away from the cauldron. Her front hooves were pressed together in a posture reminiscent of prayer, while her rear legs were spread out, high in the air. She kept her eyes shut in concentration. Light breathing was evident by the slight rising of her chest, but otherwise the zebra was completely motionless.
Meditation was a favorite pastime of Zecora’s, and it never failed to bring peace to her addled mind. Indeed, after a long day of gathering herbs and food and then proceeding to mix and brew various potions from her bounty, Zecora would oftentimes relax by spending an hour or two late at night meditating, letting her stressed-filled being relax and calm itself. Within the solitude of the Everfree Forest, this was relatively easy to do, as the zebra was usually accompanied by only her own thoughts. Living in such a hostile environment, peace was a scarcity when survival was the prized commodity amongst the denizens, but within these brief sessions she felt nothing but intense tranquility, becoming blissfully oblivious—yet at the same time hyperconscious—to the world around her.
Right now, the calm pervaded Zecora’s very being, and she let it so. It was like the rush of a burbling stream, fresh and soothing as it washed over her, momentarily freeing her from the shackles of the mortal plane. She ignored all outside influences as she centered herself. The world beyond her mind did not exist for her at that moment. The rough wood digging into her scalp, the steady beating of her heart, her slow breathing… outside influences no longer mattered as her being transcended. She felt herself lifted up, soaring ever higher and higher as her mind entered a state of emptiness, leaving behind the baggage of emotion. It was so… peaceful. Halcyon and perfect, like an undisturbed pool of water. Finally, when her journey reached its zenith, she could feel It, a sea of energy, infinitely vast and powerful, primordial and fundamental, connecting her insignificant life to the countless others It touched in this world and beyond. She yearned for and called upon It, wishing for It to accept her and heal her more than any mere potion or salve could do. She began to reach out for It… The Force…
And was promptly interrupted by a series of raps against her door.
Zecora opened her eyes, awareness of her surroundings returning to her at last. She was somewhat irritated that her state of calm was so rudely disturbed, but she was actually more curious to see what—or rather, who—had disturbed her.
After all, she rarely got visitors.
In a flawless backflip, Zecora launched herself from the wooden pole, leaving it to remain standing perfectly still, as if she had never touched it in the first place. She grabbed it and set it beside the wall before approaching the door, the golden bangles she wore on her neck and leg clinking against each other softly.
I wonder who this could be, she thought. Hardly anypony ventures in the Everfree.
The zebra was rather surprised that she was not able to tell that somepony was coming. She would not admit it out loud, but she could dare say that she was caught off guard by this newcomer. It was quite strange; usually, she had no problem realizing the presence of others nearby, no matter how deep she was in her meditation. If anything, she would actually become more aware of her surroundings during her sessions. To have not noticed anything…
This did not bode well. In the back of her mind, Zecora felt a sense of… imminent danger. Steeling her resolve, she hid her concern into an expression of neutrality as she stepped up to the door and opened it.
Standing in front of her was a small figure, slightly shorter than her, swathed in a black hooded cloak that hid most of her (his?) features. She could see a few stray strands of blonde hair peeking out, and a gray muzzle poked out from the hood, although the eyes remained covered. It was definitely a pony, but the zebra could not tell who it was.
Zecora spoke first. “May I ask who you are, stranger, and why you brave the night’s danger?”
The mysterious figure ignored the question completely, instead opting to give a curt greeting with a soft, boyish voice: “Master Zecora.”
The zebra’s eyes widened visibly in surprise at the response, but she could not do anything more before she was blasted by an intense surge of electricity from the figure’s outstretched hoof. Zecora flew through the air, clearing over her cauldron and hitting the wall on the far side of her home, before collapsing to the hard floor with a dull thud. Grunting in pain, she raised her head slowly, wincing as a few lingering sparks of electrical current still crackled throughout her body. The dark figure entered the hut and began to advance towards her, one slow step after another, chuckling sinisterly all the while. A pair of venomous yellow eyes, bright as brimstone, stared from within the darkness of the hood, but otherwise the attacker’s identity remained unknown.
In the meantime, Zecora’s mind furiously tried to figure out what had just happened and who this stranger was. Judging by the tone of voice, this pony definitely was a mare, and she had referred to her as “Master.”
Very few would know the significance of such a title.
Who was she that she could know? Then there was the lightning… conjured from her hoof, not a horn, it was most definitely not unicorn magic. It was something else, something far more powerful, more familiar. Lastly, Zecora did not sense the mare’s presence before, but now it loomed over her like a giant shadow, no longer held back, threatening to suffocate her in waves of oily Dark…
A look of grim determination crossed Zecora’s face. It was obvious now. The realization shook her being, but she maintained an aura of defiance as she achingly stood up, muttering but one word to the intruder as acknowledgement.
“Sith.”
A small smirk graced the muzzle of the being in question, and she replied, “Very astute of you, Master Zecora. A Jedi of your caliber and experience… I am not surprised that you recognize what I am.”
“Your kind has not been seen for a thousand years.” Zecora then demanded, “Who are you, and why are you here?”
“You speak to Darth Fulgur, Dark Lord of the Sith,” the hooded mare began. “As for my purpose here… well, I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” she chuckled. “It is simple, Master Zecora. The Plan is finally in motion, and the Sith shall rise once more.” She gestured towards Zecora. “As a Jedi, you will die tonight.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it. Now, surrender and submit!” Zecora then thrust her hoof forward. Darth Fulgur gasped as she felt herself being harshly propelled backwards, as if slammed by an invisible wall. The Sith was launched straight through the open door and flew in a long arc a ways away from the hut. Upon landing, she skidded roughly against the ground, rolling a few times in the grass before coming to a dead halt.
Knowing that her opponent would not stay down for long, the zebra looked to a particular shelf to her left and quickly used the Force to telekinetically push aside a few vials and bottles before coming across a small wooden box. She hurriedly opened it, and discarded the box in favor of the object that lay within. Grasping in an invisible grip a sleek metal cylinder, roughly three hoof-lengths long, she darted outside and saw the Sith slowly get to her hooves. Zecora crouched down, head lowered and her legs spread apart from each other, as she readied herself into a stance more befitting for battle.
“Did you think I would not go down without a fight?” she questioned, floating the strange cylinder close to her. She then proclaimed, “You are a fool, and soon you will know not to oppose the Light.” With the press of a single button, the object burst to life:
*SNAP-HISS*
And a blade of green plasma, humming dangerously with raw power, materialized from the cylinder, bathing Zecora in an otherworldly emerald light.
The Sith Lord stood up fully and quickly shifted into her own fighting stance as a vicious scowl marred her hidden features. Her searing sulfuric eyes, piercing through the darkness, narrowed as she snarled, hatred oozing in her voice, “Pray for a quick death, Jedi.” She telekinetically brandished her own metal cylinder from within her cloak, floating it nearby. “For there is no mercy.”
*SNAP-HISS*
Reciprocating, a crimson blade ignited from the tube, showering Darth Fulgur in a blood-red light, her shadowy appearance nightmarish and demonic as a result.
The twin blades, green and red, Jedi and Sith, remained unmoving for a long while. The silence in the air was broken only by the incessant drone of the lightsabers, promising pain upon whom it will strike down. A gentle breeze rustled the trees, sending a few leaves falling to the ground. Luna’s Moon watched from above and washed the clearing around the Jedi Master’s hut with gentle moonlight, illuminating the area in an ethereal glow. All around them, the creatures of the Everfree retreated into their dens and shelters once their primitive instincts instructed them to avoid the two beings, vastly more powerful than they could hope to stand against.
Time stood still as these two Masters of the Force stood their ground, sizing each other up, waiting for the first move. Then suddenly, as if ushered by some unknown signal, the two charged at each other simultaneously, their lightsabers held high and proudly as their duel finally began.
The two sabers met each other in a flash of white light, the energy blinding and sizzling at the point of impact. For the briefest of moments they were locked to each other, Jedi and Sith stared at each other, one stoic and resolute and the other furious and snarling. Then, just as quickly their blades withdrew, and then met again and then again and again.
To the untrained onlooker’s eye, the two were moving so fast that they would appear as mere blurs of emerald and scarlet, individual strikes unable to be discerned from each other. Zecora’s movements were fluid and precise, honed by years of rigorous and disciplined training, while Fulgur’s attacks were much more erratic, fueled by hatred and the intense desire to see her opponent slain and unmoving. They circled around each other with seamless maneuvering, slashing and parrying and dodging all the while.
The two warriors quickly found themselves evenly matched, but neither would accept a stalemate.
The duel raged on.
Flashes of green and red flared through the darkness, and the sound of humming plasma and clashing energy reverberated through the night. The Force was in turmoil, the Light and the Dark clashing with each other, each side struggling for dominance over the other. On and on the duel went, with neither gaining any significant ground over the other.
All of a sudden, Fulgur charged at Zecora head-on and crashed her lightsaber against the zebra’s. The Jedi grunted slightly at the abrupt show of brute force, but her eyes widened in surprise as she saw the Sith’s outstretched hoof. Gritting her teeth, the zebra pushed back with her lightsaber, jumping back and vaulting over the massive boulder with which the Sith Lord had attempted to blindside her.
Landing neatly on her hooves, Zecora looked up and saw multiple large boulders and logs and other smaller debris hover around the now-cackling Sith Lord. They began to fly towards her, one after another. Waiting for the right moment, the Jedi easily jumped on the first boulder before jumping on the larger rocks and logs that followed, slashing apart the smaller pieces with her lightsaber, as if it were some deadly game of hopscotch. She ignored the sounds of the landscape behind her getting torn up and suppressed the growing irritation she felt at having to clean up afterwards.
Clearing the last stone, the zebra prepared to dive towards her target with the intent to bifurcate with a downward strike, but the gray mare stepped backwards to avoid it, glowering as she did so. Upon landing, Zecora quickly adjusted herself and launched a mighty Force Push at Fulgur, who managed to root herself and weather through the attack, remaining firmly in place even as her cloak billowed and dirt and grass flew all around her. The dust settled down, and Zecora saw the Sith remaining completely none the worse for wear.
“From what I know of your exploits, your skills have not waned despite the passage of time, Master Zecora,” Fulgur remarked.
Zecora hummed in nonchalant contemplation and commented offhandedly, “I must say, Lord Fulgur, you have sparked my curiosity. Tell me, how is it that you discovered my identity?”
Fulgur cocked her thoughtfully and stayed silent for a brief moment, but eventually answered, “Inadvertently or not, you revealed your presence to me around the time a foolish magician appeared and hoped to wield the power of a Sith Amulet.” She continued smugly, “It was only for the most fleeting of instants, but your presence in the Light, disgustingly bright as it was, was unmistakable. Clever, though, that you hid yourself within a Forest so heavily shrouded against my gaze.”
Zecora inwardly cursed a certain azure unicorn mare and her idiocy, but quickly changed the subject. “Hmph, so now you found me, but I see you show fear. Do you realize it was a mistake to come here?”
Darth Fulgur scowled. “A Sith does not know fear.”
“What arrogance in your head… Such thinking will have you dead.”
“You speak of arrogance, but there is such hypocrisy in your words, Jedi!”
Readying her lightsaber, Darth Fulgur let out a screech as she rushed at the Jedi Master, using the Force to augment her speed. Zecora met the manic flurry of crimson strike for strike with slight effort, every now and then opting to dodge entirely a few attacks that got too close for her liking. Sweat dripping down her brow, the Jedi, despite maintaining focus on the Sith’s purely offensive initiative, occasionally reached out to try and get a blow at her opponent’s seemingly unprotected sides. The Sith Lord, however, was all too aware of this and easily defended herself against the Jedi’s attempts to break her guard.
Against one particular thrust from the Jedi Master, Darth Fulgur sidestepped the attack completely instead of simply parrying it, relishing the look of surprise that crossed the normally stoic Jedi’s face. She used her opponent’s astonishment as an opening to telekinetically shove her into the hard ground face-first.
Bits of dirt got into Zecora’s eyes, and she shut them closed instinctively even as she barely managed to block a downward strike aimed at her unprotected back. Despite being temporarily blinded and forced onto her belly, she proved herself to be not quite so helpless as thought as she blocked strike after strike from above. She quickly rolled to the side, and the gray mare’s lightsaber found itself buried in the ground where the Jedi was just a second earlier, the earth around it melting and glowing a vibrant orange. Zecora then jumped up and backwards, such that there was now some distance between the two combatants.
Her eyes still shut and stinging, Zecora frowned in annoyance. “Typical of a Sith to fight unfairly,” she muttered quietly. “Honor is forsaken, none too rarely.”
Darth Fulgur simply grinned in response. “What is the point of honor,” she began. “When you are the one that lay defeated?” She pulled her lightsaber from where it dug into the ground and pointed it at Zecora. “It is pointless to resist. Admit your defeat, oh ‘honorable Jedi.’”
The Jedi in question pursed her lips, creasing them into a thin line in steadfastness. “I will never give up to the likes of you. The Light will prevail, and the Dark subdued.”
Fulgur sighed in vexation and harrumphed. “So be it.” She readied her lightsaber… “Then you will be destroyed.” …and promptly dashed at Zecora, her appearance a mere blur.
Zecora barely had to time to grunt as she raised her lightsaber to block the oncoming assault in defense. The gray mare grinned and laughed maniacally as she rained down a storm of powerful blood-red sweeps and thrusts against the still-blinded Jedi Master. Despite her best efforts, the zebra felt her opponent chipping away against her defenses. She knew that she was well-versed enough in using Force Sense to make up for her momentary lack of vision, at least for a time, so why was it that she was already slowly but surely losing ground?
I feel the Dark Side growing stronger with this one, she mused darkly. Does the Forest empower her, like Celestia and Her Sun?
Zecora’s musings were interrupted as an exceptionally heavy strike nearly made her lose her grip on her lightsaber. She steadied herself and focused on reading her opponent’s movements. With each passing second, the Sith’s attacks grew harsher and wilder as she continued to try and overpower the Jedi’s stubborn guard. However, the zebra refused to break.
Suddenly, the Sith Lord struck with a downward sweep aimed at her legs. Zecora was caught off guard by the unexpected move and reflexively jumped backwards at the last second. It was too late, however, and the Jedi found herself hissing in pain as the tip of the Sith’s lightsaber grazed her left foreleg, a nasty, glowing wound now cauterized into the flesh.
Gasping, the zebra landed clumsily before collapsing onto her knees, her weapon falling to the ground, the plasma retracting into the hilt as it deactivated. She desperately called upon the Force to pacify her turmoil of emotions and to alleviate the scorching pain in her leg. Howling victoriously, Darth Fulgur jumped high up into the air and lunged her lightsaber forward as she descended upon the fallen Jedi, intending to end their duel with the body of her opponent cleanly impaled through her blade.
A mistake.
Zecora realized this despite the agony she felt, and thinking quickly she immediately used the Force to fling her still-deactivated lightsaber at the Sith Lord plummeting towards her. Although the blinded Jedi could not see it, Fulgur’s eyes grew large in shock as she saw the metal cylinder fly towards her, end over end. Her own lightsaber was currently positioned to deliver a thrust, but it was not ready to block an incoming projectile. The Sith hastily tried to reposition her saber for deflection, but she could not do so fast enough, and Zecora’s lightsaber flew past her own and continued on its trajectory uninterrupted. Horrorstruck, the Sith watched as it was activated remotely by the Force, almost in slow motion, its forest green blade of plasma growing longer as it spun through the air, hurtling closer and closer, ready to bury itself into her flesh…
With a deafening roar of fury and frustration, Darth Fulgur unfurled a pair of previously hidden wings from within her cloak and pushed them downward as hard as possible, becoming a vague apparition as she harshly propelled herself upward and out of the path of certain death by mere inches.
Meanwhile, Zecora finally managed to regain her vision after rubbing against her eyes with her good leg for a bit. To her disappointment, she had sensed that her opponent had succeeded in avoiding her last-second Saber Throw, albeit by the slimmest of margins.
Of course she had to be a pegasus. The Jedi sighed in exasperation. The Force is not always so generous.
Retrieving her still-spinning lightsaber with an easy Force Pull, Zecora looked up towards the tenebrous canopy of the Everfree Forest, searching for her opponent, who had seemingly disappeared. She got up slowly, wincing at the slight sting of her injury, and kept her weapon hovering close to her head as she attempted to spot the Sith amongst the darkness above. Despite the moonlight shining from above, the foliage of the Everfree Forest was still almost completely smothered by shadow, and the pegasus took full advantage of it, remaining perfectly camouflaged with her black cloak, and even going so far as to hide her presence in the Force as she first did prior to her arrival.
Zecora narrowed her eyes as she calmed herself with the Force, attuning herself to her surroundings. Eyes darting left and right, she stepped forward slowly, cautiously, as she sifted through the noise of the background and listened for any signs of her vanished opponent.
…
The reassuring purring of her lightsaber…
…
The whisper of a breeze…
…
The prowling of a wary timberwolf pack nearby…
…
The bellowing of a far-off river…
…
…
…
*SNAP-HISS*
The Jedi swiftly whirled around as she locked blades once more with the furious Sith Lord who emerged from the trees from behind, her wings flapping to give her an extra push. Zecora grunted in effort as she pushed with all her effort against the charge, but despite this she continued to be forced back, grudgingly surrendering her ground one step at a time. Knowing she would not be able to maintain her grip forever, she instead decided to twist her lightsaber and push upward and break the lock, using the momentum to roll below the hovering Sith Lord and to slash upwards as she did so.
Darth Fulgur easily batted her attack away and responded with a slash of her own. As soon as Zecora recovered from her roll, she too parried the incoming attack and followed with a riposte, which was also deftly avoided as the pegasus hovered around her. Both sides unleashed an uncompromising onslaught of attacks from all directions, but each strike from one duelist was countered by the other, neither refusing to bend to their opponent’s will.
The Sith Lord snarled vehemently as yet another attack of hers failed to break the Jedi’s guard. She had expected her opponent to be powerful, but she was stronger—she knew she was stronger. But alas, it taunted her so to see the Jedi keep up with her for so long.
Nonetheless, it was not a problem.
She was a Dark Lord of the Sith, a Master of the Dark Side, borne from the Rule of Two, the greatest of her Order after a thousand years.
The Plan was in motion, and defeat was not an option.
Growling, Fulgur began to call upon the full power of the Dark Side, feeling it bubbling up and giving her the first delicious taste of the strength she needed to destroy this insolent Jedi. Drunk on the power of the Dark Side, she felt it creeping, and a colossal rush began to fill her being.
Fulgur knew that her next strike would end the duel at last. She raised her lightsaber up high, and then started moving it in a wide arc towards the Jedi Master, licking her lips in anticipation as she pictured her enemy’s head cleaved from the rest of her body...
But Zecora, without warning, ducked below her slash, her mohawk narrowly avoiding being singed, and smoothly jumped in and lunged her lightsaber forward, thrusting it into the Sith Lord’s unguarded shoulder.
“AAAAAAAARRRGGGHHHHH!!”
Without breaking her stride, the Jedi smoothly withdrew her blade, and in one swift motion slashed the hilt of her opponent’s saber apart, the crimson plasma dissipating into nothing as two useless cylindrical halves clattered to the ground.
Darth Fulgur, not willing to let neither her injury nor the loss of her lightsaber faze her, attempted to raise her good leg to summon forth her power, shaping the lightning that was her namesake… But Zecora was faster and quickly ensnared her enemy with a Force Grip before she had a chance to react, raising her high into the air before slamming her into the ground hard, a few satisfying cracks resounding, and then Pushing her away with as much force as she could muster.
The Sith Lord tumbled dangerously through the air, unable to control her trajectory through the waves of agony radiating from her body, and cried out as she crashed harshly into an unforgivingly sturdy tree. Laying against the base of the trunk, she struggled to stand up, but her body would not allow it, unwilling to let her shift her shattered bones or aggravate the burning hole in her shoulder. Her vision swam dizzyingly, and she felt rivulets of blood run down her forehead. Fulgur attempted to fight through the pain, to use the Dark Side to reinvigorate her, allow her to continue fighting, but before she had a chance to concentrate she saw a bright green length of whirring light emerging from the darkness, a figure moving alongside it. Freezing, she shifted her gaze from the plasma to the Jedi wielding it and silently awaited her fate as she stepped forth.
“As said before, the Light will prevail,” Zecora intoned calmly. “Inevitably, you, and the Dark, have failed.” Zecora then pointed her lightsaber at her fallen enemy’s chest, but gasped as the soft malachite light of her blade lit up the Sith’s now-visible—and familiar—face, no longer hidden by the hood.
“No… I know you… by the Force’s will,” she whispered breathlessly. “You are Derpy Hooves of Ponyville!”
Indeed, crumpled in a sorry heap before her, breathing with difficulty and shaking in pain, donning a tattered black cloak and a hood that no longer concealed her, was Derpy Hooves.
The resident mailmare of Ponyville… muffin connoisseur… the town’s fool… was Darth Fulgur.
Derpy Hooves was the Dark Lord of the Sith.
Her enemy.
Those golden, crossed eyes were unmistakable, and though once burning with liquid wrath and hatred and turned sulfurous by the corruption of the Dark Side, now appeared softer and more innocent, currently filled with remorse and silent loathing.
The zebra’s mind reeled. Earlier on, Zecora had noticed the gray coat, the blonde hair, the feathery wings of a pegasus… But how could she not have deduced her opponent’s identity sooner? It was so obvious! But how was it possible? Clumsy, bubbly, lovable Derpy Hooves was a Sith Lord! It may have been her sworn duty as a Jedi to uphold justice and spread the goodness of the Light Side throughout the land, destroying the Sith and the Dark Side they so wickedly embodied… but could she really destroy Darth Fulgur? Could she really kill Derpy Hooves? A few pitiful coughs interrupted her spinning thoughts, directing her focus to the broken pony that lay at her mercy.
“Well… you win, Master Zecora,” Derpy started in a heavy, bitter tone. “You win. Go on, then. Finish me. Strike me down, and fulfill your duty as a Jedi. Destroy the Sith forever.”
Hesitant, Zecora remained frozen for a moment, but ultimately, slowly—reluctantly—proceeded to inch the blade closer to Derpy’s heart.
“…But before you do, let me speak,” Derpy murmured. When no further action came from the silent Jedi, she continued weakly: “I know you Jedi view us Sith as monsters. I will not deny it; we have indeed done terrible things throughout our long history. Even as the Jedi slowly died out over the past millennium, I doubt they have never let go of their animosity towards us, yourself included.”
Zecora opened her mouth to give a retort, but Derpy cut her off.
“Regardless, can you, Master Zecora, look me in the eye and say that the Sith are the only monsters here?” Derpy rasped, as if simply speaking took a great toll on her. “How many lives have you Jedi pillaged and destroyed in the name of peace and selfless love? You seek to purge the darkness, but at what cost?”
The Jedi maintained a neutral expression on her face, as if unamused by the jests of an unfunny jokester.
Closing her eyes slowly, Derpy let the silence hang in the air for a moment, then continued in a quiet voice: “If you can really say that what you are doing is right… that your cause is just… then kill me. Kill me, and be done with it. The Sith will be destroyed forever.” She paused and took a few shallow breaths, before opening her eyes, eyes that stared straight through Zecora’s stony mien and bored deep into her very core, and whispered, “But after you strike me down… after you destroy me… how will my daughter cope once she learns of my death? Who is the monster then?”
And like a pebble disturbing still water, Zecora’s impassive expression cracked, slimy horror overcoming her. No… How could I forget that she has a daughter? How could I say I killed her mother in cold slaughter? Images flashed through her mind… images of a little unicorn filly, so sweet and innocent, now orphaned and crying hysterically over the dead body of her beloved mother, never again to draw another breath, never again to hold her, play with her, love her…
She began trembling visibly, the once-unyielding grip on her lightsaber wavering in light of this revelation.
“What will you do, Master Jedi?” Derpy wheezed. “Will you kill me?”
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Personally i feel Zecora would fit the role of a Gray Jedi better, even as far as to leave the order because of clasing views.
Also she maybe being the only one from her world equus trained in the ways of the force by Yoda himself and maybe with a human padawan