...Older Habits
Sorry for the extreme delay on this chapter, I didn't mean it to take this long but I had delays and life shit to work on. Anywhore, here it is. Hopefully you like it, I'm not %100 on some scenes or descriptions and I was kind of rushing it towards the end but I hope it's still great. As I was writing, these songs seemed to really stick out for me:
http://fireemblem.wikia.com/wiki/Lost_in_Thoughts_All_Alone
(If you haven't played Fire Emblem, play it. Along with having a beautiful theme it's simply amazing.)
(Love this song, idk if it really applies to anything but I love adtr.)
(I know it's a bit edgy but I thought it was apt.)
After a prolonged embrace the two old friends broke apart, still emotional but far from speechless.
"How are you alive? Celestia isn't known for...Actually, it seems most of the people she's killed have started coming back." Chrysalis started before realizing the recent trend of reappearing villains from the past and chuckled in spite of the situation.
"It's a long story, is there somewhere more private than a throne room?" Alistair inquired while wiping the tears out of his eyes.
"Of course, follow me." She instructed with a gentle smile before reforming the common scowl her minion's have become acquainted with as they trekked out of the colossal room and into the heavily guarded hallway. The guards stepped aside in a wave of motion to let their Queen pass and, despite their best efforts to hide their interest, marveled at the sight of a Human. The short voyage was tense and both of them were already listing the questions they needed answered. Although he was a Telepath and she a Changeling, they'd both sworn long ago to never break the mutual, if arguably misplaced, trust that they'd never overstep that line of privacy and in that seemingly drawn out walk, the two straight faced immortals struggled to keep their promise. As they almost jogged past ornate rows of doors, guards, servants and two toned teal and green windows illuminating the winding walkways with crystalline light they finally came upon a massive set of obsidian and valatite doors bearing the Chrysalis' emblem: The two headed Wyvern roaring into the sky made of chitin, Valatite and emeralds.
"Hey, you took her suggestion after all..." Alistair said aloud wistfully with a mournful grin.
"I could've called her a lot of things back then, but she always was a creative one." Chrysalis remarked as she opened the doors with her magic and regarded her empowering mark with pride. Together they walked into her private quarters bathed in a thick haze of darkness. Almost as if it sensed their presence, the room lit up thanks to the aid of several crystal growths in the black walls which offered atmospheric lighting for the dimly lit room. It was furnished with unorthodox taste as it was lavished with finely designed lounges, a marble fireplace with a soft purple fire burning in the hearth, a twinkling chandelier of glass that seemed to reflect the light, a massive, pillow covered dark green bed that looked soft enough to melt into and, to Al's surprise, a ornate balcony; the idea of a balcony to Changelings and Humans was largely unheard of a few thousand years or so a go given the possibility of an assassin entering through it.
"I never fancied you to be one for Human decor." Alistair commented, not sure whether or not this was some kind of practical joke or a cosmic coincidence.
"After Celestia's army burned through the land, many nobles seeking refuge offered the most bizarre things as tokens of gratitude...I'm not used to these, but I'm sorry-" She began, watching as his expression shattered at the mention of the forgotten war.
"Don't be, you tried to help me, help all of us...I just wish you could've been there sooner." He interrupted her, not wanting to hear her apologise for someone else's sins.
"As do I...Also, don't make it a habit of interrupting me." She reminded with a soft smirk of authority, causing him to smile and huff in amusement as he collapsed into one of her plush, azure and silver couches as she gracefully rested on the parallel one.
"Noted...So...You go first." He conceded, not sure where to start himself so he allowed someone else for once.
"As I asked earlier, how're you alive? We scoured the ruins of the Immortalis Bibliotheca but all we found was stardust and mortal corpses...You should've told us you were still alive." She reiterated with equal confusion, vexation and elation.
"I'm alive now but for a few thousand years I wasn't...Just a ethereal shade giving bits and pieces of my live force to any drifter I found worthy of my former gifts...We fought hard Chryssie, we fought damn hard to stop her. We held out for a lot longer than Aurora thought we would...We held out long enough to evacuate the whole of Northern Val. We fought on long enough and with such vigor that I was able to fool myself into think we could win...The mere second Celestia joined the fray it was a total shift. For every cataclysmic event I caused, she was there to halt me long enough for her men to fall back, for every ambush I orchestrated her elite guard was two steps ahead of us...With her solar magic at their disposal and her immortality capable of clashing my own gifts head on it didn't take them long to break through the first set of gates and for the first to fourth regiments to break apart like rubble. We fell back to the Archive and I told my men that those who didn't want to hold the line could use the last functional ley line left to get back to the capital and from there rally some reinforcements or something...I knew they wouldn't make it in time but it was the false hope that made most of my battalion fall back." He recounted with a damping sense of failure hanging over him like a shroud. She could sense the woe and hopelessness radiating off him like a rancid, muted stench.
"Your men spoke highly of you, even when they were senile and on their death beds they still thanked you for the fact they lived to see another day." She reminisced with pride in her supposedly fallen comrade, her melodic voice surprisingly clement as she watched him struggle with his emotions.
"Thank you, knowing you kept your promise helps a small bit...Still, in the end it was me and a handful of soldiers with an immortal at our gates with her army..." He praised with a mellow voice as he turned away from her and stared into the hearth, the flame burned as bright as the memories of razed barracks and citadel walls...
"It was...It was a massacre...I promised victory, glory and honour to those loyal few who stood by me till the end...And all that marks their collective grave is a crumbling library and a sea of sand..." Alistair lamented with a heavy heart and palpable sorrow. "In the end...Our fighting really was all for nothing." He wailed, trying to compose himself in an orderly sense but the eons old scars still felt new and bloody.
"At least I tore into her, heh, she didn't walk away from our duel looking pretty...One might even have called her scars and burns hideous..." He laughed with a cruel smile, savoring the only wounds he was able to inflict on her.
"I'm...We all knew you'd died with your loyalists, but to hear it was a slaughter...Golden was right in the end." She thought back to his parting words with spite.
"Gold always was a sage prick, at least he knew how to pick the right side when it came to war. So, in the end I was bleeding out on the floor and she was limping away like a kicked puppy. I was terrified, dumbstruck and every other word to match; how could I have fallen so easily to a corporeal weapon? And what kind of sadist would've used my own family blade against me?" He rhetorically asked, finding a strange irony in his fate.
"Poetic murder and banishment are her specialties it seems." She huffed, angered more so by the added details to his demise.
"As I laid there, feeling my spirit and body tear asunder, I remembered the last thing my mentor taught me before he ascended. It was ludicrously stupid and if it backfired...Well, I had to try...And it backfired." He recounted, a sad grin adorning his features as he thought how bittersweet the mistake was. "I was trapped on the other side, neither dead nor alive and only barely existing; were it not for my eternal sense of peace and my glimpses into the mortal world I would've gone as mad as a Draconequus. In the end, I came to love my prison and relished in my untimely death...Until a pack of cultists woke me up and told me everything and almost everyone I knew is dead and forgotten while also expecting some kind of miraculous reconstruction of what I've lost." He finished, fulfilling her request as he sank into her cushy sofa and sighed.
"I can't imagine what it must have been like...If you so desire, you can remain here with me and my people; many of them have only heard of Humans in legends and glimpses from the hivemind and if you were to stay I'm sure it'd help get this sorry lot motivated to at least attempt to function; you make a decent morality boost." She offered, trying to display her usual mean sense of demeaning humour.
"I appreciate the offer, but no thanks. The Archive is my home, always will be, I can't simply walk away from it in such a state and if I live here then those cultists will no doubt come over and I doubt they'll all make the trip; they're unwanted but I don't want them to die for my sake. Too many already have." He refused with a resigned look.
"Shame, I could use a competent adviser. So, what shall you do now? Your only powerful ally is despised by many, your followers are blind and your land is either claimed by the Equestrians, Griffins or Dragons or simply uninhabitable." The Queen reiterated with a questioning gaze, in response he sat there in silent contemplation, the only audible sounds the ruffling of his magical robes and the smoldering flame, before shrugging and grinning faintly.
"Well, you've always been despised by many-"
"You wound me, truly."
"-So I'm not too worried about that, I'll educate the cultists and see to it that if they choose to stay in my lands that they don't see me as an infallible god and I'll make sure they're trained and focus their magical talents on what the Archivists have always been interested on...And as for those backstabbing braggarts..." He paused with a small, familiar and sinister grin as his eyes glimmered with a dulled intensity.
"I'll rebuild what was taken from me, I'll exhaust all my reserves and supplies and lay the foundations of my Archive brick by brick if I have to. I won't let all my sister's work be squandered. It's been eons, so any claim to my stolen land is all but washed away...I can part with it, most of it didn't belong to my family to begin with...But if they come back, if they swagger in with zeal and dare to try and pilfer what I have left then I'll scorch their armies and raze their lands like I should've long ago." He announced with suppressed ire and desire, his very being radiating might. "I want nothing more than to be left alone and research till I die again but if they come back, if she comes back, I won't hold back once more." Alistair once more pressed, almost galvanizing the malicious Queen.
"Your remark is deserved, to say the least, but do you even possess the ability or numbers to contend with a modern army? Although she's losing her edge in my opinion, dear sweet Tia commands an army, has several iron clad alliances and there's two more Alicorn peons wandering Equestria now. She's still a global contender and you're a freshly revived amalgamation with a merry band of fools and the support of an exiled Changeling Queen...Although I loathed to say it, the Equestrians seem the clear victors once more." She rebutted, her emerald eyes scanning her companion for any hidden agendas or emotions but came up disappointed; once more she wished she could break their pact and see what he truly felt. She arose and walked over to her prim and regal dresser and levitated the large wooden tray supporting a valatite and sapphire set of tea cups and a kettle.
"So Celestia is at an advantage despite solely relying on others like a leech, I'm a fish out of ethereal water and people hate Changelings...Does none of this ring a bell? At least this time I'm actively trying not to cause problems and mind my own business; unless the world is ending or Celestia comes knocking I don't plan to get involved with anymore global scale bullshit; let her sort it out if she's still hard on about policing the world. I just want my home back so I can research in peace and tidy up my corner of the desert." He clarified with an unusually calm facade as he watched her actions and looked around the room for his desired relic.
"Strong words, but actions solidify reigns. Regardless of whether or not you want to avoid the world and isolate yourself, you're an immortal being with sway over unnatural forces like the Sisters or myself, people will seek you out when they discover you're alive...Would you like some emerald tea? Pardon my lack of common courtesy, I'm not used to entertaining friends or anyone for that matter, three sugars correct?" She cautioned before offering a cup of vibrant green boiling tea.
"Yes please...I know someone will sooner or later cause trouble or try and kill me, it's the nature of things regrettably, but the longer I can simply exist while picking up the pieces of my glorious library the better. This goes without-thanks-without saying, but don't breath a word of my reappearance to anyone, especially the other Hives." He stated with a straight expression on his drained visage as she sashayed back to her couch with a few cups in magical tow. He took a long, slow and savoring slurp of the sweet, glowing beverage as she idly watched him and pondered several things.
"Of course, those blind fools wouldn't even sell you out to the worthy opponents and they've never been hospitable to me. The world's changed so much since we parted, If you so desired you don't even have to stay here or ally yourself with me. So many lands have been lost, founded or discovered and the world seems endless with Equestria merely being a speck on the map...The world's changed drastically, don't resign yourself to this lonely stretch of sand and ruins just yet." She stated, instilling a sense of dread and hope in equal parts into Alistair, who merely grinned at her dramatic comment.
"I'm not doing anything for the monarchs, for my family or even for my lost followers...I don't even know what I should be doing, so far I'm just trying to do something with my time...I'll rebuild the Bibliotheca and see to it that my new fans don't burn it down or start wars in my name, from there onward it's anyone's guess where I'll be and what I'm doing...But if I find something worth doing, I won't be doing it because they would've wanted me to...Not like doing anything for them would bring any of them back anyway." He announced, more to himself then Chrysalis, with a questioning gaze staring up into the semi reflective ceiling while his companion smiled to herself.
"As indecisive as ever. Alistair...I've missed you, we all did. Welcome back." She welcomed with a genuine, warm voice and gentle smile. The infectious nature of the two displays won over Alistair as he found himself grinning back at her with a charming expression adorning his pale face.
"As much as I love seeing your shuffling corpse of a physical form again, I'm sure you came for something aside from a heartfelt reunion." She questioned, still keeping her disarming glow as she pressed the conversation onward.
"Yes in fact, though I'm ecstatic that I've finally been able to talk to someone who can fathom how I'm feeling. I came for my family's sword." Alistair informed, his smile wilting slightly as he almost dreaded retrieving it. Chrysalis merely nodded in understanding as she used her extensive magic to retrieve the priceless blade.
"And how, pray tell, do you know I have it? I do of course, but I don't entertain spies in my court." She interrogated light heartedly, half jested and half serious, as she placed a lengthy rectangular box of white elder wood onto the sparsely decorated table between them. The box had a small, yet intricate, topaz and sapphire etching of a lion and raven respectively, marking it as property of House Leonas.
"My guess would be converts from your hive or one of my little cultists was snooping, if I knew how they knew I'd tell you...Damn, haven't seen this box since...Well, the ceremony...Goddess, elder wood really never ages huh." Alistair stated with a nostalgic inflection as he ran his hand over the insignia and grasped the sides of the box so as to ease the cover off.
"I've kept the blade in top condition over the past few years or so, whetting it was a chore given the enchanted properties of valatite steel but to be honest it's kept itself together well enough without me since I doubt Celestia was personally repairing it in her musty vault." The Queen said with admiration in her voice, as he removed the hardened cover of the case to reveal the priceless and ageless blade resting on a velvety bed of golden fabric. He faltered for a moment as he removed the prized weapon.
"Chimera's Talon once more in the hands of a Leonas, as it should be." Alistair remarked with pride as he maneuvered the longsword and examined it for damage or decay to its enchantments. The silver and blue blade shimmered as if it was only just polished after being forged, the rune inscription running along the obsidian guard and within the fuller radiated hidden power while the dyed white leather grip was still as vibrant and sturdy as always. As Alistair shifted it around in his hand, causing the crackling green light from the fireplace to reflect spectacularly off its surface, he noticed the cracked, dull topaz in the pommel and sighed morosely.
"Intact, but incomplete...Still, merely possessing Talon is putting me at ease. Chrysalis, I can never thank you enough for saving her." He congratulated with a shared smile as she simply nodded with smug satisfaction.
"Please, all I did was salvage it from the bowels of Celestia's vault; if you want to thank anyone for saving it I'd wager little Luna would be the one to shower with praise." She clarified, brushing off the impressive feat as she directed his praise towards someone he'd rather forget.
"No thanks, as far as I'm concerned she can go hang with her sister...Wait...You broke into Celestia's vault? How?" He muttered darkly before remembering what she started with and spun around to face her with amazement.
"Well first I had to take control of the city..." She started, watching his wonderment and feeling the positive emotions oozing out of him like a starry eyed child.
"Tell me everything." He demanded with awe as he rested the sword in its case as he sat down with Chrysalis as she grinned ear to ear as they began to drink their now cooling tea while she regaled him with the story of her almost total victory.
"Three years ago my hive was in dire need of love so I devised a brilliant plan..."
"'Ey Captain, Lancer's got the shakes again." Brass Boulder, the sweat and armour clad giant of a Earth Pony, exclaimed with a chuckle as he slapped the jittering pegasus private on the back. His thick Manehatten accent made him all the more insufferable and the sweltering conditions of the inside of the armoured carriage along with the drone of the engine, stench of sickness and the overabundance of greenhorns only made the routine patrol all the more horrible.
"as I said earlier, get 'im a bucket and let him ride it out. Sorry partner, but we ain't got the supplies to deal with whatever ya got; when we get back home I'll rush ya to the clinic. Sit tight." I ordered strictly, scowling at the moron, before trying to reassure the sickly soldier. The grey pegasus was shaking something fierce, sweating more than the other grunts and look about ready to hit the hay. All in all, it was bad. Heatstroke was one thing on desert deployments, this was something else.
"T-T-Thanks Captain..." Lancer stammered out as he held onto his seat while the carriage rolled over another dune, the thin rays of sunlight going wild as the ride got bumpier and tossed the soldiers around slightly. The new Griffin made carriages were built well enough for the snow, forest and almost everything in between; in the desert it was like a sauna and it doesn't help when the plates make you wear full armour. Exhausted and irritated, I took off my dusty stetson, rubbed my glove covered hoof over my forehead and moved the copper and sandy yellow hair out of my eyes before putting the old thing back on. Besides Pa's old ax my hat was the only thing out of the ordinary they let me keep in the field.
"Ey Sir, what the buck are we doing out here again? There's nothing but sand and rocks out here." Boulder asked once more, causing me to rub my eyes and groan as the stress and heat started getting to me. Looking at the golden plated stallion who was busy polishing his sword, I huffed and addressed my platoon.
"As I'm sure those of ya who got a good education or grew up in these parts like I did, you'll know these parts aren't just full of sand and rocks like Private Boulder here thinks. These lands are full of ruins and cities from long dead people that I don't quite frankly know a whole lot about. It's our job to make sure raiders and such ain't using said ruins to set up camp as they tend to do; though we're not expected to bump into anything. That, Private Boulder, is why we're out here and I won't repeat myself for the fourth time." I shouted out, informing the bored platoon while calling out Boulder for being a jackass. As I stand, squashed between Boulder and Tango, I become all the more aware of the confines of the tin can. Besides the lighting and smell being generally atrocious, there's not much wiggle room and having a full platoon complete with weapons and armour don't help none. The roof is only tall enough for myself to stand and for a lone cannoneer to operate the bulky but compact piece of artillery on top from the small hatch a few steps behind me near the drivers. The troops held onto their junk, had their weapons sheathed and helmets on the floor ready to be put back on after having some of Lancer's puke wiped off. Like all trips in what we all affectionately called the hot box we were damn tired and sweating like a pig wrapped in burning metal.
As I sat back down, I decided it'd be best to try and get some rest and ignore the hellish conditions and annoying troops. collapsing into my seat, buckling in and placing my hat over my eyes I tried real hard to get some rest...If it weren't for the smell of sweat, rations and metal and heat it would've probably been easier. Still, so long as the soldiers thought I was napping they'd ignore me and keep themselves occupied.
The last few months had been rough for the southern frontier what with the raiders and dragons, but now that we had some of those toys the tin cans in Canterlot had we should be able to give the gutters a proper buck to the bits. Sure, Appaloosa had seen better days and some of the locals moved on north but it was still home; even if more and more of the city types were getting deployed and placed under my command. The raiders had never really been a problem before, heck they never even tried to kill or kidnap ponies in the past, but in the last year or so things got rough and now here I am baking in a hot box with a team of city colts who knew nothing of the south; at least they can use more than pies as weapons so that counts for something. Minutes turned into hours and before we knew it, the ride got cooler and quieter as the sun began to set, letting soft, pale orange and purple light into the bleak, grey war machine.
"Un-bucking-believable...We wasted a whole day on patrol and the only hazard we found is Lancer's puke..." Boulder exclaimed loudly in frustration, his voice raspy from the dry air and lack of water due to rationing. His annoying accent broke my daze and with sleep alluding me still I put my hat back on my matted mane and looked over to him with a look that screamed for him to be quiet or he'd be running laps when we got back.
"Look Boulder, I know today's been rough on everyone but could ya..." I paused, smelling sulfur and a strange, enticing and sweet gas of some kind...
"Captain?" He questioned, confused at my sudden pause as he looked around before sniffing the air as well.
"What is that...Oh buck! Move, move, move! Get out of this bucking-" I tried to hastily order, managing to get some of the few around me to push towards the massive, reinforced doors but it was in vain as seconds after I stood up and gave the command our landship was rocked hard by a thunderous explosion. The front of the armoured carriage burst into azure flames, melting the mechanical controls and operators alike, while the sides of the hold were dented as an unknown adversary began firing on us. Picking myself off the ground and drawing my ax, I watched as Lancer and another guardsman pushed open the doors and charge out into the light.
"Sir! I'll man the cannon, I'll cover ya!" Boulder announced as he shakily got back onto his burly hooves and adjusted his helmet before placing a pair of goggles over his crimson eyes and smirking.
"Give 'im hell private!" I shouted in response as I ran outside, ax drawn and head down.
The dunes were already burning a plethora of colours as our enemies rained magical and explosive fire down on us. The hornheads in the platoon had formed a solid shield and were slowly pushing forward and upwards to the top of the golden, rock covered dune the bandits had set up on. The battle had just begun, but I was already down two soldiers as a pair got hit by a hail of arrows and magical bolts when they pushed a bit too far too fast out the door; stepping over their smoldering bodies, I ran up to the unicorns and began barking orders.
"Divine, get over to Boulder and keep a shield on him! Cobalt and Fray, keep those shields up and move up this damn hill! Everyone else, keep an eye out for flankers and chargers, we're exposed out here and we've already lost too many in my books!" I commanded with a stern, cracking voice as the hours of travel in heat with minimal water began weighing me down. As I surveyed the field I saw we were up shit creek.
Our armoured carriage had taken a beating, the sturdy and plate covered front was bathed in magical flames and the golden sheen was rapidly degrading into a rusted pile of scrap because of the magical effects, the treads were torn to shreds as the opposition knew exactly where to hit to cripple the vehicle, leaving the left side of it riddled with holes and a torn strip of tread. The rectangular, silver body of the carriage was still largely intact and made decent cover but it was a death trap to stay inside with equipment powerful enough to melt the drivers together. Similarly, we were all melting under the sun with a lack of resources and some of us stumbling over themselves from fatigue or sickness. Their gold and silver plates were tough and well suited for melee fighting, but out here in the blistering sun with mages and cannoneers? They might as well be naked. My dragon scale mail and padded leather was light enough to keep me mobile and not drenched in my own sweat but unlike them I don't have the advantage of several layers of metal protecting my vitals. As Boulder threw open the roof hatch of the ruined ship, only to be greeted by a hail of arrows, pellets and bolts that were halted by a pale white aura, and maned the small, black mounted canon I grabbed my iron ax and raised it above my head with valour.
"For the Princesses and for Equestria!" I cried out with bravado, remembering some of the standard rallying cries they taught me, as I pointed towards the still unknown enemies and gave the order to advance. The group cheered with deafening fury, as the unicorns struggled up the hill as whatever those bastards used on the ship was being repeatedly slammed against the multicoloured shield repeatedly, their intense, dark blue flames washed off like acid rain. As we pushed upward towards their entrenched position, the echo of cannon fire and clap of magic muffling the surrounding grunts of effort and shuffling of armour, I became acutely aware of the language spoken by the unknown enemies. It was difficult to make out over the sounds of battle, but I could tell it wasn't Equestrian, Griffin or even Buffalo. These people weren't from around these parts, weren't the typical raiders and weren't big enough to be adolescent dragons from further south. Something was off about these bastards.
"Sir! Get down!" I heard Lancer cry out before I felt something massive tackle me into the sand. Somehow, something broke through our magical defenses without shattering the shield. Looking up into the bandit on top of me as I reached for my ax, I felt a mixture of revulsion and horror at the monstrous thing.
It had parts of an Equestrian face, a muzzle, mane and even a normal ear but so much of its face was warped and just plain wrong. In between patches of molting and dead grey fur was splotches of red, raw skin that looked cracked and pustular. Its eyes were sunken in, tiny and held an insanity I'd never seen in a creature before; the most disturbing thing about the eyes were that they didn't match, one was much larger and more normal but the other...It looked like it'd forcibly sewed it to its face somehow. Its mane was balding and dead, as was its fur and feathers. Its wings were crippled and broken but still twitched in agony, its body was pony but there was no cutie mark and was far too skinny to be healthy for a pegasus. As I grabbed my ax to help pry it off me and remove its putrid hooves off my throat, I noticed one of its hooves was mutated like the rest of its body. Out of the bottom of the left hoof were little, bony talons not unlike a Griffins; they grasped my throat weakly but felt so alive and disturbingly fleshy. Grabbing the old iron ax, I silenced its insane screaming by hacking it in its right hoof, causing it to weaken its grasp. As it struggled to hold onto me with the ax jutting from its hoof, I bolted up, headbutted the monster and while it was lying on the ground dazed I tore the ax out and slammed it into its face. Killing was never easy, but something about this creature...Something told me I was doing it a favour.
"What the buck are these things?! Are they even Ponies?!" Lancer questioned hysterically, impaling a similar creature on his lance as it ran straight for him with a rusted sword swung wildly.
"Don't know, don't care! Keep moving!" I ordered, trying not to linger for too long on the freaks more than I had to, as we slowly pushed onward. The further we got to the top of the dune, more and more of these monsters rushed us from all angles; they seemed to pop out of nowhere, like they could walk on thin air or something. The guards were standing their ground and the monsters weren't on par with a well coordinated advance, but the cracks in our defenses and our exhaustion was growing rapidly. Our miniature cannon manned by Boulder was raining fire on anything that tried to get around us, the scatter shots turned infantry into mush and worked pretty well against armoured junk but with the little amount of ammo we had, the waning shields and never ending forces the cannon didn't seem that useful in the long run. Still, we pushed upward and onward. The sand was painted a sickly red along with our armour and weapons as the monstrous perversions of Ponies kept swarming us from seemingly all angles; were it not for their lack of self preservation I imagined we would've been easily overwhelmed.
"C-Captain, Radiant's dead! Our shield's falling fast!" Lancer shouted out in disgust and fear as he failed to stop the gaping wound in the silver unicorn's neck after another private successfully forced the beast responsible to the ground and smashed it's grotesque face repeatedly with a steel mace. As the entire unit pressed together, allowing the shield to fully cover us but gave us less room to move, we pushed over the tip of the dune and came face to face with the brunt of the horde.
While our armour was battered, weapons dulling and bodies exhausted we were able to push on and dispatch the mindless creatures with ease, but as we came face to face with the black, crackling portal encircled by stone runes, and their nest of cannons we realized our advantage in close quarters meant jack. They were able to sacrifice units because they had no need to wait for backup for supplies, every second one or two fully clothed and armed, albeit with low quality equipment, Pony monsters charged out and fell in line quickly ready to run head first at us. Along with the endless stream, the cannons were heavily guarded and far enough behind the portal to be impossible to hit without dealing with the flowing masses of monsters.
"Celestia's mane..." I mumbled with dread, gripping my old axe with newfound grit, before turning back to my dwindling platoon; whatever the hell we'd stumbled into, we can't walk away now and we'd come too far to retreat with enemies all around us and a decommissioned transport. Axe held high, I cried out with righteous fury and false bravado.
"For the Princesses and their lands!" I bellowed, my accent and charm giving way to sterling ferociousness as I pointed at them and commanded a full frontal assault. Our hooves were a thunderous stampede and our barrier a respite against their hailstorm of cannon fire and arrows; yet for each thunderclap and blocked attack they met us with numerous reinforcements and layers of suppressive fire that threatened to break our thinning shield. The snarling, maddened beasts charged through the phantasmagorical shields somehow, their bodies burned and torn in spots yet somehow still moving through the magical wall like their seared flesh barely fazed them.
Onward we pushed, gutting and pushing back any of the wretched beasts that advanced through our barrier and tried to kill our spell casters thus leaving us vulnerable to their ceaseless cannon fire and arrows. The shoddily armoured and armed marauders were dispatched with ease, being little more than grunts and fodder for our spears, but the hordes were weighing us down and slowly but surely killing us with bug bites; every scrap, cut and smashed plate of armour left us more and more exposed and weakened for when they decided to throw something bigger at us.
After several waves of freaks, each greater in number and skill, we were down a few soldiers and one mage; although they'd suffered greater losses it was a small comfort given the importance of each member of the thinning platoon. But, through grit and bloody will, we were at the portal and seemed to have bought some time as they had to set up their cannons to fire almost directly forward as all that stood between us was a handful of yards and an ominous, swirling portal.
The portal radiated an intense aura of dread, like it was a hole straight to hell. The ground was decorated with several stone runes with intricate and alien symbols carved into the surface, the green sigils glowing with power. The rift was spawned from what looked like a shapeless, colourful explosion of light that gradually spiraled out into a black and dark green maelstrom of magic; the edges of the portal crackled with small arcs of energy that either connected to the runes or fizzled out when it touched the auburn sand.
Catching my breath, I turned to face Lancer. He was caked in blood and looked shaken, like the rest of us. This had rapidly turned into an unprecedented shitshow and with so little of our forces left they were panicking; Lancer was doing his best but was on the verge of breaking down.
"Lancer! Help me-Get down!" I began ordering, only to tackle him to the ground as our shields fell in a sudden burst of light that was quickly overwhelmed from the sudden and blinding explosions all around. After the bombing stopped abruptly, I rose with axe in hoof and surveyed the damage. Sand, dust, ash and gore was sprayed about and ever present, our mages were nothing but chunks of burnt metal and meat and what was left of our dwindling forces was reduced to four burned, tired, deafened and dazed soldiers bathed in dust, sand and blood. wiping the same mixture off my face, I grabbed Lancer's outstretched hoof, picked up his spear and gave it to him.
"Bucking hell, keep them off me I'm going to break their portal!" I ordered with a breaking, wheezing voice. Our ears ringed louder then the explosions and sounds of battle but he knew what I'd said and prepared to defend himself at the tidal wave of soldiers charging out of their nest of cannons and cover.
As I knelled before one of the six dull green and black runes crackling with energy, I hoped my axe was sturdy enough to get the job done but was surprised when it tore into the stone-like object. The axe cleaved it into two jagged pieces and it sporadically shot energy into the air. With a sickening cry out in pain, a loud roar was echoed on the other side of the portal as something massive stomped towards the gateway. Readying myself, I prayed it'd be a swift victory. I knew no such respite was coming, however, when the towering goliath burst through weapon in hands.
The only word someone could use to describe the new monstrosity would be perverse. It was roughly the same height as a Minotaur, the lower half of its body was covered in stained and matted black fur but the rest of its body was disturbingly muscular and devoid of hair. The pale, scarred skin was adorned with veins that risked bursting through its flesh and strange symbols painted on his arms glowed with power. A large, rusted collar with a snapped off chain rested on its thick neck and its head seemed like a cross of a Minotaur's and something else entirely. It still had the sharpened ivory horns and protruding nose common among the bull like people but its eyes and other features were either way too small, damaged and torn or simply missing; It looked like the majority of its body was either falling apart or ridiculously brawny.
In its meaty, chaffing hands it clutched a giant stone hammer that looked older than the Princesses themselves yet as he raised it with an echoing roar it became clear it was as hefty as a paperweight to the monster. Despite the aching in my bones, I jumped to the side as it smashed its oversized weapon into the ground I'd stood upon. As it looked at me with madness and contempt I rushed towards him and swung my axe deep into his chest. Despite the tremendous force I put into the swing, all it accomplished was a grunt of pain as it sunk into its body. The wound was deep, almost swallowing the blade entirely, yet despite the profuse bleeding it let go of its hammer and before I could run away picked me up in both hands.
As I trashed and squirmed in his grasp he raised me up to his sweat covered face, sneered at me with pure hatred, and began slowly squeezing with growing might. I struggled vainly, hacking at his hands in an attempt to escape, but as I felt my ribs crack and snap audibly, I screamed out in pain; the beast chuckled at this, only to howl in surprise and pain as he loosened his grip on my body to face whatever had annoyed him.
"Let him go..." Lancer ordered with a wavering frown as he removed his blooded spear from the monsters right elbow and stood strong before the titan. It growled intensely and per his request let go of me by throwing me through the air back over the crest of the dune.
As I tumbled down the sandy slope, only aggravating the internal wounds, I saw what remained of the carrier. It'd been gutted, almost all of its armour plating had been destroyed, the treads were torn to shreds, the mage who'd remained behind had seemingly been torn apart by the monsters and Boulder, having run out of ammunition, was fighting off the freaks with a standard issue dagger. He stood atop the vehicle, knife in hoof, as three of them rushed him from three sides. As I crashed into the ground at the bottom hard, coughing up a bit of blood, I watched as he stabbed the one in front repeatedly in the face, tearing apart its ghoulish visage, while holding onto its sword hoof. As the monster from behind approached, he bucked it in the chest violently causing it to fall off the transport and impale itself on a jagged piece of scrap metal on the ground; as he pushed the dead ghoul warrior away, the third one grappled with him and began screaming at him loudly and repeatedly before throwing both of them off the other side of the carrier. As I stood up and hobbled over, I saw and heard a great flash of light, but as I neared the entrance of the carrier all I saw on the other side were corpses.
"S...Shit...Damn it all..." I cursed in between painful hacks of blood as I sank down slightly. I slowly crawled inside the torn apart transport and collapsed against the wall at the back of it. The sounds of battle where dying slowly while the cries of suffering and malicious joy rang out. The smell of copper and gunpowder wafted through the air like a bloodied furnace. As my vision grew blurry, I spied a flare gun to my left. It'd fallen out of a damaged emergency supply box along with some painkillers and medical supplies. After swallowing some pills and bandaging my surface wounds, I leveled the small gun in my shaking hoof; I wouldn't let them take me, I wasn't going out without a few more of them...
As I heard the sound of shouts of alarm and battle once more, my vision grew blurry and I slowly began falling over before finally letting the darkness embrace me...
As I soared through the orange and purple sky, the sun setting on the horizon, I pondered many things. In between bragging about her successful, and quite bloody, regime Chrysalis told me all that I needed to know in my absence. Discord reappearing and being defeated, Starswirl, Sombra, that bastard Tirek and his lout of a brother, the Crystal Empire disappearing and reappearing, the Minotuarian Isles unifying, the Griffonia industrial boom, the Zebric Planes breaking down and so much more...It truly was a different world I now lived in...She mentioned that although minute compared to the rise and fall of heroes and villains, my 'followers' had existed for as long as I'd been dead; despite the ruination, revival, cooperation or fracturing of countries and religions they never died out. Like a faint, enchanted light that refused to fade; they might've always been unknown entities with a handful of members and allies but they've refused to fail in their mission and now that they've succeed I wonder if they'll be accepting of me choosing to remain hidden.
My thoughts were broken as I felt something I hadn't felt for a long time, something primal and corrupted in nature, something that warped and contorted the world around it. Dark magic. Halting in mid air, I looked down below the clouds and focused on wherever this ill feeling was resonating from and rapidly descended. As I shifted form in air, I slowly began to make out a scene of battle far below; though the closer I got it looked more and more like a massacre.
As I softly landed, completing my shift in forms, I surveyed the battleground. The sand was painted with blood and the corpses of heavily armoured ponies littered the ground, their weapons discarded; I was used to the sight of death and war, but what horrified me where the abominations shuffling about scavenging the decaying pony corpses. They looked like ponies from a distance, almost normal even, but the closer you got to them the clearer the inhumane flaws in their bodies, movements and souls. It looked like a witch doctor, necromancer or a shitty doctor hacked apart a Human and a Pony and tried to stitch them together; they stumbled on uneven, hoofed feet, clutched broken weapons in vestigial hands and their faces were warped beyond recognition. In spite of myself, I stumbled backwards in horror as I pulled out Talon with my right, armoured hand and my black grimoire with my left. As I walked towards the mass of mutants, I scowled intensely. These...Freaks were a mockery of my own people, they resembled nothing of their former races and seemed crazed and rabid. I'd be doing them a favor by killing them all. As I neared, they finally acknowledged my presence and began shouting at me in fractured, broken valtic.
"H-Human...Human caster!?" One of the monsters cried out, raising his rusted club at me. His face was twisted into a visage of confusion and anger. As I neared, they began crying out for me to surrender and to come with them somewhere. I ignored them as I wordlessly willed my notebook to hover alongside my grimoire and approached them; when they realised I wasn't going to surrender or leave, they cried out in some godless language and either charged at me or got into flanking positions to try and suppress me. As the first wave neared, my grimoire flipped through pages in a blur until it stopped at a faded page from my earlier years in the study of enchantment. Raising Talon above the open pages, the bluish silver blade began to violently hum and glow azure; the glow continued to grow in intensity as I ran to meet the first beast head on.
It lunged at me with full force, stepping back I riposted its strike and followed it up with a clean vertical strike that tore through its armour and flesh with ease. Next, I sidestepped another monsters wild axe flails only to smack it with my grimoire and impale him on my blade while it was dazed. Seeing three more rapidly approach from the front, I tossed my grimoire into the air, allowing it to hover alongside my pad, and pressed my hand into the sand; my palm, along with the dozen or so feet of sand in front of me, glowed intensely and suddenly the monsters found themselves sinking quickly below the surface as the weight of the sand could no longer support them. As I restored it back to its proper weight, trapping them underneath several feet of crushing sand, I grabbed my notepad from the air and turned to the multiple freaks trying to sneak up on me. I casted a simple hex and before my eyes several pages turned into paper blades, seemingly worthless. As I clutched them and waited for more of them to approach, I put them up to my mouth, casted a lesser enchantment, and waited for them to close the distance.
Once they were adequately close, I threw the paper knives and grinned as they struck true; the facades of weapons digged into their exposed flesh, causing them to bleed profusely from the neck and joints as many of them crumpled down. Two of them refuse to die however, as the knives only grazed them. They attacked simultaneously, both swinging down at me, and I blocked them both with ease. As they continued to assault me fruitlessly, they failed to see they'd left themselves open for exploitation; with my off hand I tore out several pages of my notepad, crunched the pages into my fist and felt magic course through them. The two monsters were shocked as they felt a second, pure white replica of Talon slice open their stomachs; their entrails fell out like a pile of useless, pale and sickly meat. As the collapsed I decapitated the two of them with my swords.
Hearing a second, off key war cry from behind, I raised my weapons but was stunned as I watched the massive horde get decimated by a volley of sudden explosions that rained down from the sky. As the explosions neared, I cried out a lyrical spell and a powerful, if tiny, barrier encased me as the surprising and deafening hell fire attacked from all around. When the dust settled, I lowered my barrier and saw that although they hadn't even landed a scratch on me, they minced their own soldiers. As I spotted where they'd come from, I also turned to the dark vortex a few feet away from me; the foot soldiers were trying to protect their portal, and from the looks of the runes on the ground it was a powerful, sustained portal to boot.
Smiling to myself with a devilish grin I strutted over to the mostly intact runic circle, though someone had broken one of the sigils, and reached out to them. They tried to resist, but eventually they gave in and I began to tear the magical reserves out of the runes. The power crackled and threatened to go wild, yet the ball of chaotic green and black magic I held in my left hand soon began to settle and fall under my control. The power I could feel, the fierce nature of the corrupting magic, it felt so...intoxicating. As I felt the energy course through me, I pointed my outstretched arm in the direction of the beasts who'd propped up a wall of metal to guard themselves, thinking it could protect them from raw magic. Belting out a powerful curse, I watched a massive, transparent sigil appear in the air in front of the ball of energy that began to vanish and make the outlined sigil whole; as the magic left my body I waited until the magical construct was whole before casting it.
"Feuer." I ordered, and in an instant I watched a great beam of sinister magic form and lash out at anything before me. Sand turned to glass, their barrier was scorched and the abominations vaporized along with their strange weapons. As the multicoloured laser slowly died out, the harsh screeching and flashes of light dying with it, I grinned as I saw what was left of their nest had been turned to ash. Dark magic may be powerful, but when used by the right people it becomes devastating.
As I began to look for surviving ponies or monsters, I heard a final, guttural war cry sound out from the fading portal and out charged a hybrid of a Human and a Minotaur clutching an oversized weapon. This brute was greater in stature, strength and possibly intelligence and was thrice as hideous to gaze upon. as I readied my weapons, I sidestepped its hammer but was too slow to dodge a swift punch it threw at me while it was closer to my level. As I received the full brunt of its strike, causing me to reel back in surprise, I felt the unnatural strength twitching inside it; someone or something had embedded enchanted runes within its body. Such a monstrously cruel and painful procedure had only ever been practiced by desperate Humans...
Ignoring the implications, I grasped my two swords and charged back at it while it recovered from it attacks and began slashing at its legs and arms. Despite the enchanted nature of my weapons I was baffled to see I'd only give it surface wounds. Grimacing while dodging its next volley of punches, kicks and strikes I figured I'd have to remove its enchantments to fall the giant without expending unnecessary amounts of my own magic.
"Come on you brute, show me what you've got!" I mocked while continuing to side step and jump back from its rapid attacks, in response it sped up its assault and screamed out in mad rage. Refusing to fight or engage the monster proved fruitful as after its continuous assault only garnered up kicked sand and smashed corpses I saw it was breathing raggedly and grimacing in pain; it was at this moment I noticed the mystical, golden glow near its heart. Taking advantage of its staggered state, I ran straight at it, shoved my paper sword into its chest and began carving open its putrid skin and eventually tore into its muscle and jagged rib cage. It cried out in shock and agony but it couldn't stop me after expending so much power in such short time. Despite the bloody, vicious work I grinned and laid eyes on the tiny, yet significant, golden metal rune in its chest. Letting go of my paper sword, I began adding more and more weight to my arm till it was as strong as a Minotaur's kick and slammed my fist into his chest. The sound of shattered bones and metal ringed out joyously as I pulled up bloodied, gore covered hand from the hole in its chest; I was almost disappointed when the monster refused to die, merely crying out in anger at the hole in his chest and the fake sword that replaced its rune.
"Tartarus, what'd they do to you?" I rhetorically asked as it got back up, albeit slowly with much pain in its steps, and raised its hammer once more. Tiring of the fight, I sidestepped its strike, and while it was to the ground I wordlessly sent a large chunk of my magic to my arms and grabbed ahold of its hammer head and tore it from its grasp. Wielding the mighty, primitive hammer, I struck its left leg and shattered the bones before smashing it against his arms and ramming it into his gutted chest; as it collapsed into the ground, I grew irritated at its refusal to die. As it stared at me with confusion, hate and fear I approached its head and with ease I began tearing it off its body. The skin tore asunder, letting blood and sinew flow freely, and held it in my hands. As its eyes stared at me, I admired how truly vile and disgusting this creation was. There was nothing Human about it, there was no clarity or wisdom in its eyes and whatever proud features the Minotaur it once was had were stripped bare in this rapid, misshapen form. Nauseated and spiteful, I threw its head to the ground like litter and looked around for anymore unexpected opponents.
"Anyone else? No? Good..." I asked the howling, cold wind. As I rolled my arms and checked for visual damage to my form I noticed the smoke rising on the other side of the dune crest and expected more anomalies to slay. Instead, at the bottom of the slope, rested some metal contraption surrounded by even more ghoulish hybrids. The closer I got to it, the more acutely aware I became to the stench of blood and rot; whatever these abominations were, they didn't take long to decompose. Stepping over rotten meat and rusting metal, I approached the mechanical contraption cautiously. Sword and tome in hand, I peered inside yet all I saw was another body. As I prepared to leave, I noticed the bodies chest rising and falling. I decided to see if there was anything I could do for the lone survivor.
He was a stallion, quite young it seemed, and an Earth pony to boot. His sandy yellow fur was stained with his own blood and his light gold and leather armour was torn to shreds. His ragged orange and yellow hair was covered by a tan hat of some sorts. His chest looked heavily wounded and his breathing was ragged...His forehooves were bleeding and he was concussed...He fought hard and was going to die in his sleep soon it seemed...As I contemplated how much magic I'd need to restore his body, I noticed the gold and silver royal emblem of Equestria on his hat...
On one hand, it was my moral obligation to help him...On the other, he works for the Sisters...Helping others had proved deadly in the past and given his allegiance to the people who betrayed me, I felt it was wise to leave him to die...Yet as I stood up and prepared to leave, I couldn't help but feel guilty about leaving him to die...Sighing, and praying I wasn't wrong to trust in the kindness of strangers once more, I picked him up delicately and stepped outside. He had an hour tops and I'd need a lot of magic and concentration to save the sorry bastard.
"Old habits die hard I guess..."
The atmosphere of the shanty town within the antechamber of the Grand Library was thick enough to cut with a knife. Faded and his followers had expected their leader to return by now, but as the golden sun set on the bleached ruins they began to fret; it was unlikely Alistair would've died or gotten lost out there, there were so few threats or obstacles...But the desert did look almost the same everywhere you turned...
"Scroll, look! He's back!" Snowfall cried out in relief as she snapped upright from the small table the two had been sitting at discussing the repairs of the castle. She pointed towards the large, circular window he had flown out of and Faded was ecstatic to see his master only to be befuddled at the sight of another body.
"Move, I need to work on this Pony!" Alistair barked as he walked through the parted crowd. In his hands he clutched the blood soaked form of an Equestrian Captain...
"L-Lord Alistair, why are you-" Faded began as he approached the sprinting Human only to be interrupted.
"No time to talk, is the castle's hospital ward usable?" He questioned as he looked around for somewhere to work in peace.
"No sir, it's burying under a pile of rubble. What pray tell-"
"Is there anywhere to operate in this village?!" He once more interrupted, growing agitated.
"N-no, the makeshift clinic is full and most of these tents are preoccupied or indisposed-"
"Fuck! Guess I'll just have to use my old bedroom..." Alistair remarked as he moved towards a flight of ruined stairs that led nowhere.
"Milord, almost all of the castle is inaccessible!" Snowfall reminded Alistair, who merely frowned at her.
"I can see that, but thankfully for all of us I pioneered the School of Restoration. Back away, this is going to be a rush job." He ordered as he held onto the wounded stallion with one arm awkwardly as his left began to rapidly shine white and turn ethereal as he touched the ruined stairway and pile of rubble blocking his path. As Snow stepped away, she noticed something that had been missing in his lord's steadily shining eyes. He looked around with purpose in his vision, he was angry, irritated and still looked drained and depressed but it seemed he had a motive to his movements and actions, unlike how he left seemingly unsure and distressed...In spite of the current situation, Snowfall grinned softly. Her grin suddenly faded however as she felt the ground shake with tremendous force.
The castle shock violently and Alistair suppressed a cry of pain as the castle began to reshape itself at an alarming rate.
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Yay A New Chapter!
I see this dessert quite often
At least my mouth isn't as dry as a desert while enjoying the dessert
7654138 ah fuck, better fix that. Thanks for pointing it out.
7654138
And now we need Faded to deliver Alistair a plate of sand pudding (That's an actual thing) :D
I'm definitely curious about the conflict between Celestia and the Hierophant. Clearly the conflict is somewhat nuanced, and were only getting one side of the story. I'm having trouble believing that Celestia is really the one responsible for starting the conflict, especially if the Human empires are as warlike as they sound.
Hopefully it doesn't take the author the entire length of the story to at least get out that bit of background.
Woop Woop, new chapter woopie. You better keep this going or else the ghosts of the hiatus fanfics will come to haunt you..... FOREVER
Yay, it updated!
7654212 Don't worry, I want to make most of the background stuff known by at least the half way point; Alistair's history is crucial but not the focal point of the story.
It does beg the question is just how our survivor is going to react when he finds out just who rescued him. Great to see this story back and looking forward to the next chapter!
Happy to see a new chapter. I was abit worried when I heard it was a minotaur with a large stone hammer glad it was nothing. Looking foward to what ever happens next
Fors Luna know about how the humans died? I can't imagine she would appreciate being reminded of her crush if she thought thet wre evil.
The story is pretty damn good so far. Pretty much got hooked on the first chapter. If future chapters are this good or better, I'll definitely be reading more.
7656030 I was going to have it that sooner or later he reveals he can still 'see' people through the magical powers he was given, like only being able to see based on someone's aura or something. I plan to elaborate on it soon.
Hmm, interesting... Possibly the humans left behind desperate attempts at fighting back and they festered for millenia to strike now?
Glad to see Chryssie being happy for a change, at least for a while. I hope she'll make more appearances.
I wonder what's the story behind Celestia's betrayal.
So is nobody going to comment on the fact that the survivor is Braeburn? No? Just me? ...Alright then, I guess it's up to me to point out the obvious.
*Ahem*
The main character just saved Applejack's cousin from certain death, at great risk to himself and those who follow him. Applejack is a very 'family oriented' mare. Celestia has a nasty habit of sending Twilight and her friends out to deal with returning adversaries from millennia ago. Alistair is a returning adversary from millennia ago.
Need i say more?
7659512 Humans get around
7657282 "Oh.. Fuck all kinds of duck..."
7662853 Author be like:
7662877 I spent far too long trying to find a video of her saying that. I might just make my own for future reference.
7662976 Edit: Here you go!
7662984 pbs.twimg.com/media/CL0vL3nW8AAmmMi.jpg