Cursed

by SkelePone

Chapter 1: The Dark Era

616 B.C. (Before Celestia); THE YEAR OF THE PLAGUE

“Now now, darling,” he says warmly to the little foal cowering below him, his voice muffled by the beak-like mask covering his face. Underneath, he is smiling. Even though he knows it’s useless, he can’t comfort a patient with this ridiculous costume.

He knows this because the filly he is tending to is shaking. Either in fear or in pain from the great swollen buboes on her loins and on her neck.

Valiant is a unicorn. Unlike the other unicorns who had decided to coop themselves up safely in Canterlot whilst the Earth ponies dies agonizing deaths, Valiant had a little something called honor. And he wasn’t going to let his honor die away with these poor ponies. He would save as many of them as he could before he himself died of the terrible plague.

He reaches a hoof into his cloak, withdrawing a satchel of herbs. He had yet to find a cure for the plague. But he knew with patience and practice in the field, he would be able to find it.

The plague.

The crying filly before him was a prime example of what the pestilence was capable of.

Buboes, large swollen sacks of gunk that develop in the pits, the loins, the groins, the neck, and even the jaw. Darkening coat, giving the victims a horrifyingly black complexion. And a terrible smell. If they were lucky, the ill would die soon after. But if not, they would suffer through blindness or paralysis or even both. Even if they survive that, the victims will begin to decay while they were still alive, their flesh eaten away by the unseen contagion.

“Now honey, I’m going to give you some herbs to chew. Will you be a big, brave filly and chew on them for a bit?” Valiant asked sweetly. He knew for a fact that she was terrified of him. It was because of the ridiculous outfit worn by the doctors of the plague. He was one of three unicorns who enlisted to help find a cure. Countless more pegasi and Earth ponies outnumbered them, well over two hundred Earth pony doctors and fifty pegasus doctors to each one unicorn. Of course, the real problem wasn’t the lack of magical assistance from the unicorns of Canterlot.

It was the damned suits.

A cloak thrown over a full-body suit, all black. Anypony would be terrified, even without the mask. And the mask was the thing that sold the deal. Designers in Canterlot and Cloudsdale claimed that the milky white mask that resembled a bird’s beak would ward off infection. Also, there was a wide array of flowers and scents stuffed into the long schnozz, which made it easy to breathe in this world of rot.

The filly chewed the herbs. She had gagged on the foul taste, but Valiant was used to ponies disliking his supplements. They were generally disgusting and Valiant held a firm belief that the disease was altering ponies’ taste buds to make them want to reject any medication. The idea was horrible, which is why nopony accepted his theory. The others studying the illness simply assumed that if they spat out the medicine, the medicine was no good.

Stupid logic, Valiant thought, but I guess that’s the only logic they can understand.

“Can you walk?” He asked the filly. The little pegasus shook her head, several strands of her mane fell out. Yet another symptom: premature balding. Valiant cast a levitation spell, and carried her in a ball of golden energy away from the crumbling shack he had found her in.

All of Equestria was in ruins.

Clouds of raw filth, vectors of the disease, slunk about the terrain. Anypony, even doctors, caught in one would instantly die of the plague. Being in a cloudlike form seemed to alleviate the symptoms and cause the disease to rapidly progress far beyond what it was capable of doing trapped in a pony’s body.

“Let’s go.” He murmured, leading the filly out from the shack. She simply floated about, saying nothing. Her silence disturbed him. He hoped that she hadn’t died already.

Valiant re-adjusted the brass goggles over his eyes and marched onward. He did his best to ignore the moans and groans and pleas for help or mercy coming from various, but equally devastated ponies, whom were too far along in their sickness to help. Even if he did manage cure those ones who were slowly dying of exposure, the missing chunks of flesh would cause infection that couldn’t and wouldn’t be healed with even the most powerful of spells.

Suddenly, startling him back into reality, the floating filly began to murmur in a deep, raspy voice. At first, Valiant thought she had gone insane. But then he realized she was giving him directions.

“Turn left…” She whispered. Valiant obeyed without question. Maybe she was directing him to her home. They passed crumbling ruins. The plague had only started at the early days of that winter, but the disease had rotted away far more than defenseless ponies. Everything felt the effects of the plague, even the Everfree Forest.

“Keep… walking…”

Her voice was so low and quiet that Valiant had to strain his ears to listen. It didn’t help that the mask conformed around them, keeping them covered. Like every other inch of his body.

“There.”

She was pointing a feeble hoof at a distant cabin. Valiant looked at the dark house with an air of doubt.

“There? Are you sure? What’s in there?”

“Please. There.”

Valiant nodded, bringing her along as they headed on towards the cabin. He knew better than to deny the wishes of a patient. Especially a young patient like her.

Eventually, they made it to the front door. Valiant stood uncertainly upon the creaking oak porch. Other than the natural sounds of a settling home, Valiant heard no sounds of anything living come from behind the door. He raised a hoof to knock.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The sounds of knocking echoed across the emptiness of the wasteland and from inside the empty house. Valiant was skeptical.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go in there?”

“Yes.”

“Okayyy…”

He turned the doorknob and floated her in with him. Inside, there was nothing but darkness. Why was it so dark in here? It was daytime, and the windows had no curtains; from what he could tell of his limited view of the inside.

Valiant let out a yelp as an unseen force cut off his magic, and the filly smacked grotesquely into the floor. For a panicked moment, Valiant thought he had killed her. But then she spoke.

“Thank you. Ponies are curing The Plague.”

“W-What?” How had she survived that fall? Especially when she was so ill?

“Ponies are curing The Plague.”

“Um… yes. They are.”

“The Plague needs to sleep. Return another day.”

“Um…” Okay, Valiant thought to himself, there is something really wrong with this foal. “Yes. But how about we leave this creepy cabin and go somewhere you can get better?”

“No.” Her voice was different. It sounded less like one filly speaking and more like a there was a chorus of voices, chanting the word together as one.

“N-No?”

“The Plague needs a vector. The Plague must sleep. You will sleep with The Plague. You are the Vector.”

Before Valiant could even scream, he felt a dark force grip him from all sides. He whimpered in fear, he was paralyzed! Then, he felt air brush against his muzzle. His suit was busted! He was breathing in the contagious air! Valiant struggled to break away, but he was exhausted.

Valiant felt his eyes droop as the chorus of voices began to chant.

“The Plague needs The Vector.”

“The Plague needs The Vector.”

“The Plague needs The Vector.”

“You are The Vector.”