• Published 5th Jan 2017
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Age of Kings - A bag of plums



When King Sombra took over the Crystal Empire, one pony went into another world to seek help. Featuring the ancestors of the cast of Equestria Girls, this is the account of her quest in the human world.

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18 - Unhorsed

“And there we are, my lady,” Sir Morn Dread placed Emerald Edge down, giving her a pat on the back. “Just in time for my match. Will you be alright on your own?”

“I think so…” Emerald smiled and reached out to hold on to Sir Morn’s arm. “Thank you, Sir Morn.”

“Anytime,” he returned the smile, walking out the exit. “I wish you all the best in your next match, Emerald.”

You bet I’ll do that, Sir Morn.

Everytime she was with him, she could feel her heartbeat flutter. Emerald now knew it herself. Whether she wanted to accept it or not, she had feelings for him.

But you’re worlds are apart, Emerald. You can’t be with him, can you?

Emerald didn’t want to think more about it. The future pained her heart, whatever her decision was. Could she have both? Or would she eventually have to pick between her kingdom and Sir Morn?

Then she remembered her match. All those thoughts would have to wait. She still had an objective to complete.

“Let’s go, Emerald,” she told herself as she jogged out to the arena. “You can do this.”

“WELCOME BACK TO THE TOURNAMENT! FOR THIS ARENA, I PRESENT EMERALD EDGE AGAINST… SIR TROTIVERE OF CANTERLOT, KNIGHT OF THE ROUND TABLE!”

Oh horseapples...

This time, she was back in the stone floored one, standing opposite an unfamiliar knight in white-blue armor, almost as if the plating around his body was made of ice. A long sword stood in his hand, jagged near the hilt and widening out near the tip of the blade. He held no shield, just like Sir Morn, but his helmet was relatively different. Instead of a simple slit where the eyes could see out, his was in a shape of a cross, along with small holes on the sides.

“My lady,” he bowed, placing a hand to his chest. “May the best fighter win.”

“Same to you, sir knight,” Emerald nodded and drew her sword, holding it before her in both hands.

Both combatants approached each other, increasing speed as they got closer. Emerald swung first, then followed through with a kick to Sir Trotivere’s head, but the knight had already moved, parrying her first strike and then ducking under her leg before barreling into the spymaster, knocking her down. Pinning her beneath himself, Trotivere leaned up and raised his sword, ready to finish the fight. Just as his sword came down, Emerald dropped hers and extended both hidden blades, pushing them into the path of the knight’s sword before locking into the grooves of his blade and yanking it away, tossing it as far as she could.

Realizing he was now defenseless against her hidden blades, Sir Trotivere got off the spymaster and dashed for his sword, allowing Emerald time to grab hers and regain her stance.

“Impressive…” the knight said, grabbing his weapon and spinning it once in his hand. “Never would I have guessed you held such weapons. But… Tis no longer a secret. I shall remember them from here.”

Emerald pushed her fringe up and readied herself again. She attacked first, running forward before slashing down with her blade. Trotivere parried it and then another as Emerald swooped in for another attack. The two competitors traded blows for a few minutes, neither one letting the other get the upper hand.

“As expected of the lady trained by our good Sir Morn Dread,” the knight jabbed forward as Emerald hopped to the side. “Also, congratulations on your victory over Sir Agramane. Defeating a Knight of the Round Table is no simple feat.”

“I have to win this, Sir Trotivere,” Emerald panted as she leapt away from another strike. “My kingdom depends on it.”

“Ah, I have heard stories of your origins, my lady, but I do not believe I know the true story. Perhaps you could give us a brief of your kingdom once this match is over.”

Sir Trotivere lunged forward, catching Emerald’s sword arm and tossing her down to the ground.

There were gasps among the humans at the stands when Emerald went down, but the rest were clearly cheering on the knight. Sir Trotivere was a Knight of the Round Table after all.

Swiping her hair out of her face, Emerald spun away from a downward strike before kicking out with her feet, knocking the knight down on his back. Without waiting, Emerald clambered on top of him and disarmed the knight with a hidden blade before pointing it in the center of his helmet’s slit.

“Twas a good match, my lady,” the knight raised a palm. “You have earned this victory.”

“Thank you, Sir Trotivere,” Emerald wiped her forehead with a back of her half glove. “It is an honor to have faced you.”

Emerald got up and helped the man up before the entire arena burst into applause, some humans steadily chanting Emerald’s name. The spymaster pulled her hood lower and speedily returned to the dens, just glad to have completed another round in the tournament.

She found the same spot by the way and leaned back, only now feeling the bruises begin to hurt across her body. A mage in yellow robes arrived and applied some paste on her bruises, which took effect almost immediately. She soon began to feel refreshed and ready for the next round.

“You mages sure know your stuff,” Emerald told her. “These potions just work so well.”

“You can thank Moon Tide for that,” the woman chuckled. “She always provides us with a steady amount of manticore blood for our potions. That’s really the most important ingredient to our healing magic. Without that, I’m not sure your wounds would heal so quickly. There are other healing potions, of course, but the ones devised by Moon Tide have an extraordinary potency.”

“Manticore?” Emerald raised an eyebrow. “You have those here too?”

The mage looked confused for a second, but nodded eventually. “Well, yes. We do. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Oh, I guess, um, don’t worry. It was just a silly question,” Emerald smiled and waved the thought away. So it would seem this world had some monsters that Equestria did. Then again, Emerald realized it should’ve been expected. They had wolves and bears here as well. Why wouldn’t they have manticores too?

“There, you’re all settled,” the yellow robed mage packed up her things and got up. “Good luck on the next one, Emerald Edge.”

Dusting herself off, Emerald stretched her human limbs a few times before looking to the den entrance. Seeing as the tournament was halfway done, her next match wasn’t far off. She only had another four minutes of rest before one of the attendees alerted her to the next round. She was to, unfortunately, proceed back to the sandy arena, the one she didn’t particularly like.

Well, you’ve got no choice, Emerald. Just deal with it. Think of it as a reason to finish the fight faster. Yeah, that’ll work.

Walking over to the next arena, Emerald passed by Sir Ganeighn who had a few mages attending to him, along with a large cut across his forehead and chest.

“Sir Ganeighn?” she caught his attention. “What in Equestria happened to you?”

“What?” the knight groaned and held a cloth to his head as a mage got to work in applying paste across his chest. “Oh, well, I received a good beating from a fairly large man in my last match. I’m sad to say, my lady, I shan’t be proceeding on. I have been ousted by that brute.”

“That’s unfortunate, Sir Ganeighn,” the spymaster frowned. Any other human who could beat a Knight of the Round Table was surely as good as herself, or worse, better. Much better. “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, do not worry about me,” he waved. “These mages shall get me back to full strength in a matter of hours. Well, I wish you all the luck I can muster for your next round, my lady.”

Emerald Edge nodded and waved her goodbyes before arriving at the next arena, spying a familiar face already there checking on his sword.

“Sir Morn?” she asked, resisting the urge to run up to him and throw her arms around him. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, my lady!” he grinned and sheathed his blade. “Will you be my partner for the next round?”

“Partner?”

“Yes. Tis a doubles round. Were you not told?”

Emerald shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“But tis good! I would rather have no one else by my side in a fight,” Sir Morn clapped an armored hand on her shoulder. “Come now, we are to begin soon. Let us see what we have in store.”

Emerald kept her hood low to hide her face, but then again, it was also a good idea to have it during combat. That way, her hair wouldn’t be going all over the place while she fought her opponents.

“ARE YOU READY FOR ANOTHER DOUBLE BATTLE?” the speaker’s voice echoed around the tunnel the knight and spymaster were walking in. There was a loud cheer from the crowds outside. By the sound of it, it was large. Maybe larger than all the other ones Emerald had seen in her previous fights. Perhaps they were all here to see Sir Morn. “READY YOURSELVES! ON THE LEFT, WE HAVE TRODAIRE OF DOCKLIN AND SIR HORS OF CANTERLOT, KNIGHT OF THE ROUND TABLE!”

Emerald and Sir Morn emerged from their tunnel, walking onto the sandy floor, stopping opposite their opponents. Sir Hors looked the same as he always did, though this time he had a helmet with a pointed face plate covering his face. The man next to him, however, instantly made Emerald’s stomach churn. He was fairly large, taller than the knight, wearing no armor over his big beefy arms. His veins seemed to pulse within them, almost like they were going to burst from the muscles being too big.

“AND ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE EMERALD EDGE, AND THE KNIGHT YOU HAVE BEEN WAITING TO SEE, SIR MORN DREAD OF CANTERLOT, KNIGHT OF THE ROUND TABLE!”

The crowds went wild, standing up and cheering all the more louder as Sir Morn waved to them. Emerald was glad the attention was directed away from her this time.

“I’ve got the big fellow, my lady,” Sir Morn whispered to her, placing a hand over his sword. “Do you think you can handle Sir Hors?”

“I would say yes, but… we’ll see,” Emerald replied. “I’d definitely like to pay him back for everything he’s put Spectrum Song through.”

“Well said, Emerald,” Sir Morn couldn’t help but smile. “I shall aid you if you require my assistance.”

Getting ready, all four combatants drew their swords, each one having one except for Trodaire, who had two. Emerald followed Morn Dread’s lead, slowly approaching the other two humans. Sir Hors did the same, but Trodaire unleashed a loud war cry and dashed forward, running straight for Emerald.

The spymaster was caught by surprise for a second, but managed to lift her blade just as the large human brought one sword down. Even though she fought against it, Emerald was instantly knocked down under the weapon, falling to the ground. The sword would’ve cut her face in two if she hadn’t moved her head to the side, narrowly avoiding the dangerous weapon.

Letting go, Emerald rolled away as Trodaire’s second weapon came down, launching up sand around her as she moved away. Sir Morn came in from the side, bringing a blade down against the large man’s arm. Moving faster than Emerald anticipated, Trodaire blocked the knight’s attack, followed after by another by Sir Hors, turning in from behind the large man and advancing on his fellow knight.

Emerald unsheathed both hidden blades and ran in, throwing herself slightly over Sir Hors and hooking her blades under his shoulder guards, knocking him down to the sand as she landed. She kept her weapons and moved further away, unable to go for her sword while Trodaire stood over it.

“Tis you,” Sir Hors frowned and stuck out his lower lip. “Friend of Spectrum Song, my squire. What makes you think you can defeat a Knight of the Round Table?”

Emerald pretended to be in thought. “Well, I have beaten two of them already, so… maybe I have a chance, you know?”

“Preposterous!” Sir Hors grumbled and swung his sword sideways. “How can one such as you beat a Knight of the Round Table?”

Emerald stepped back and rolled under the next slash, kicking Hors’ legs out from under him. “Don’t know.”

Sir Morn kept Trodaire’s attention, standing between the man and Emerald, doing his best to not get hit. The large man’s strength was clearly much greater than his own, meaning blocking wouldn’t do any good. For once, he’d have to employ more of Emerald’s agility tactics instead.

“You are a strong man,” Sir Morn said as he jumped to the left and sliced along Trodaire’s arm, drawing blood.

“You have no idea, sir knight,” the man smiled maniacally.

The wound didn’t seem to faze him one bit. Gripping his sword all the more tighter, Trodaire swung hard at Sir Morn, catching him in the chest and launching him back. The knight skidded on the sand and bounced once before falling face first on the ground. The knight slowly got up and shook the stars out of his eyes, clutching at his bleeding chest as Trodaire ran over to finish him.

Back at Emerald, things were going alright. Sir Hors had landed a cut across her elbow, but she was still doing fine, bobbing and weaving around his attacks, looking for openings to strike at the Knight of the Round Table.

“Stop moving!” Sir Hors complained, slashing at thin air again. “Though, you are rather quick, friend of Spectrum Song.”

“Thank you, Sir Hors,” Emerald said and jabbed both hidden blades in Sir Hors’ boots before yanking up, sending him sprawling to the sandy ground on his back. She jumped over and took the sword from the knight’s hand and pointed it down at him. “Now, would you be so kind as to concede?”

The brown-skinned knight groaned and dropped his head to the sandy floor. “Very well. You have won this round and my respect, my lady.”

“Thank you again, Sir Hors,” Emerald got up and handed him his sword back. Whether the crowds were cheering for her or not, she couldn’t tell, seeing as Sir Morn was still fighting the big human. “Now, if you will excuse me, sir knight. I must help Sir Morn and win this.”

Emerald rushed over to the other fight, keeping both hidden blades out. Sir Morn was still trying to stand, a long cut across his breastplate, blood dripping down the metal. It looked bad. Really bad.

The crowds grew silent, watching to see if the knight could continue fighting or not.

Come on, Sir Morn. You can’t die here. Please… Don’t.

Emerald shook her worry away and advanced. She couldn’t just sit here and think about him. She had to do something. Then to her astonishment, Sir Morn seemed to get up, almost as if the cut had-

The spymaster remembered his last injury. How it had healed up so quickly that even Morn himself was surprised. Moon Tide had said something about thinking about him. Emerald Edge realized she had indeed been thinking about him when he stood up, brushing sand away from his shoulders.

“What?” Trodaire grunted, lifted both swords. “You should’ve died already!”

“Not yet,” Sir Morn smiled and ran back in, swinging his blade at the large man. Somehow, his blows seemed to stagger Trodaire ever since he got back up, almost like Emerald had done something about it.

Nodding, the spymaster joined the battle, leaping on the big human’s back and digging both hidden blades into his armor, puncturing his back. Trodaire yelled and flailed around, reaching for Emerald. Sir Morn took the chance to advance, spearing the mercenary in the leg with Clarent’s tip.

Falling to one knee, Trodaire ignored Emerald and swung both swords at Sir Morn, trying to find an opening. Somehow, the Knight of the Round Table was able to deflect each one this time, not falling under the weight of the mercenary’s weapons. Emerald took this time to climb higher, sticking her hidden blades in various points along his back.

“Get off!” Trodaire yelled and jumped back, falling to the ground.

Emerald quickly sheathed her blades and threw herself off, rolling on the sand once before getting up.

Good thing I have my hood on. I’d hate to get sand in my hair...

Standing, Sir Morn rushed to her side, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. “My lady, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Just a cut from Sir Hors, but nothing too severe.”

“Then let us finish this,” Sir Morn nodded and spun Clarent in his hand.

Trodaire recovered his position, just in time for Morn to spin a slice at him, cutting deep in his elbow, drawing blood. Emerald aimed for his feet, stabbing in and out as she maneuvered around his stomps. Soon, the large man fell, unable to stand.

The crowds cheered for Sir Morn and Emerald, some people throwing their hats up, while others simply jumped on the spot, celebrating their win.

“No,” he muttered. “I was to win. I was to be a champion!”

“Not today,” Sir Morn pointed his blade at the mercenary. “You fought well, Trodaire, but your road to victory ends here.”

The man lifted his head and spat at the ground, but didn’t get up. Emerald kicked his swords away from him for added measure as she and her favorite knight left the arena, heading back through the tunnel they had come from.

“Are you hurt, my lady,” Sir Morn looked at her, spying her leg wound. “Are you hurt bad, my lady?”

Emerald chuckled along with him, remembering the first time they met. “Nothing a mage cannot heal, Sir Morn. What about yourself? I… feared for you, Sir Morn. I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

“Alas, I did,” he said, poking a hand through the large cut in his armor. “But see, tis no more. I am healed once again.”

“How… How is this all possible?” Emerald wanted to stick her hand through his armor to feel his healed skin herself. “I didn’t think any magic from this world would be so potent.”

“Perhaps it isn’t magic. Perhaps it is just how I am, son of a mage and all.” Sir Morn placed a hand under his chin. “Perhaps it is the blood of my father.”

“Your father?” Sir Morn helped Emerald sit on one of the benches. The spymaster stretched out her wounded leg to rest. “I’m afraid you’ve never mentioned your father. Who is he?”

“I do not know, my lady,” Sir Morn replied as two mages arrived to look at their injuries. “My mother hasn’t really mentioned him. I feel that she does not want to talk about it.”

“Whoever your father is, he must be strong,” Emerald contemplated. “You beat him, Sir Morn. He fought with Trodaire and you pushed him back, even with all his strength. An-and your wounds, they heal like the work of magic. No other human I’ve seen can possibly do that, not even with Moon Tide’s magic.”

“Tis true,” the Knight of the Round Table nodded his head as the mage attending to him left with her basket of potions. “Well, I shan't dwell on it too much. I shall go retrieve a new set of armor, my lady. Take care and perform well. I look forward to meeting you on the battlefield.”

Emerald’s mouth bent into a smirk. “I shall, Sir Morn. You have trained me well. When the time comes, I shall show you the strength you have given me.”

“Believe me, I intend to see it, and I intend to see you win this tournament for your kingdom, Emerald.” the knight waved his goodbyes as he proceeded away, disappearing behind the staircase walls.


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