We Are Born From The Mist

by NeverEatTheLemonsAlone

VI

Hurricane refused to leave the circle of runes. A part of her knew that she was wasting valuable time; even without a propulsion Array, the Nimbus Ring could still outpace most pegasi in flight. Be that as it may, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the circle of stone. Pacing around the perimeter, she kept her eyes trained on the intricate lines of the binding spell.

In fact, upon further investigation, it wasn’t a ring at all. It was actually an icosagon, twenty sides and the same number of points. Each one was spaced evenly across the inscription and marked with a different glyph, about the size of a hoof. Every fourth marking (five in all), was slightly larger, and a bit more complex. In between them, lines of spidering runes stretched, each one no larger than one of the rivets on her armour.

Despite their varied size, they were all quite deep, carved nearly ten centimeters into the stone. They all shared the same commonality: illegibility. Nothing had changed with the blue glow. The Proto-Equid was still just as confusing as before, and there was far, far too much of it to write down the runes, even if she’d had a paper. Anyway, she was no scribe, not for that kind of delicate work.

As she trotted around, eyes trained on the stone, her hoof clopped down on top of one of the five complex runes. Instantly, a jolt of pain blazed up her leg like fire through her veins and the piercing blue light rose again, brighter than before. She gasped in shock as her leg, so recently painful, went numb, buckling underneath her and sending her toppling to the ground.

The lines on the rune began to flow over the surface, rearranging themselves from the Proto-Equid into something resembling modern Equestrian. As her leg began to regain feeling, a dull, heavy ache running up and down the entire length of it, the light dimmed to nothingness, leaving the lines reformed and reconnected into a single word:

Fury

She stumbled backwards, her leg still not quite functioning properly. She quickly shucked one of her greaves off to see if there had been any damage, and she gasped out a small sound of shock. The hoof attached to said leg, and perhaps fifteen centimeters above it, was dyed inky black. A rasping croak sounded from behind her, and once again, the runic design flared brightly to life.

Not quite as brightly, though.

The rune that now described the word Fury, alone in the prison, was unlit. The field was slightly dimmer, and near that piece especially, the light seemed almost to go out. The shadowy form was once again present, but this time, it could draw closer, press itself against the barrier seemingly without pain.

The twisted laughter from before spewed from its throat as it raised up a hoof. The last fifteen centimeters were dark blue, the same colour as…her coat.

All at once, she realized what had happened and backpedaled furiously. The thing’s voice rang out again, poleaxing her, somehow…stronger. I told you, didn't I? You are a part of the prison, and now you have taken it back. Another laugh. I am part of you now. You will never be alone. You’ll always have a little piece of me watching over your shoulder, skulking in the darkness.

As Hurricane bolted, careening into the sky, the laughter continued to follow her Fly, birdy, fly as fast as you can. You can never outrun yourself.

A few hours later, she’d given up on scrubbing the black out of her coat. It was there to stay, twitching occasionally. Hurricane ignored them, hoping that they were just muscle spasms instead of some dark sign. It was still painful; though the ache had lessened somewhat, it definitely hurt, less like the ache and more like the original pain, a fiery, burning sensation running through the veins.

Little rivulets of blood seeped from where her natural coat joined the black, and that’s where it was most painful. It didn’t take Clover the Clever to tell her that it was magical in nature; even as a pegasus, she could feel the pure magic radiating from it. She sighed. I shouldn’t have stayed. My curiosity certainly put me in a rough spot today.

She wondered to herself if she could dye the fur with some kind of berry, but quickly discarded the idea. Even if she could miraculously find a berry around, unless it was the exact shade of blue she needed, it would be conspicuous, and it would certainly draw unnecessary attention if seen.

She returned to the stone circle when the pain finally died to a less noticeable state, an hour or so later, determined to get some answers from the shadow creature. She was prepared to do anything to achieve them. There was only one small problem; said beast was gone and refused to emerge.

She slammed her hoof on the runes until the aching reawakened, but there was no sign of the black pony. Again, she heard the laughter. It was distorted this time, though, and fainter, as though it came from a great distance. It quickly faded back into nothingness. Snorting in anger, Hurricane took to wing again, blasting out of the clearing with gale-force winds.

Tearing through the sky, she ground her teeth. Her leg was still aching, and it didn’t seem to have any intentions of stopping anytime soon. As soon as she’d resolved to get some answers, the monster was nowhere to be found. Of course, when she didn’t need it, it appeared gladly, happy to delay her from her hunt for the Ring.

No more of that, she thought as she shook her head. I’ve lost time and I need to make it up. I can’t stop again, no matter what I see.

Many miles back, the symbols carved into the surface of the stone flared to life for a third time. A smooth black form with a single blue cannon and hoof rose, staring north. She cannot escape. Sooner or later, she’ll have to come back, and I’ll be waiting. It opened its mouth in a vicious smile, revealing jagged teeth where formerly, there was only empty white space.

Oh yes, I’ll be waiting.