The Heroes we Are

by Proud-Dust

Mage and Knight 1

The Heroes we Are: Chapter 1: Mage and Knight: Night of Schemes

The sound of wind stirs my conscious. I can’t seem to open my eyes quite yet. I start to get up. My body isn’t moving the way I want it to and it seems unfamiliar in its movements. A groan escapes the limbs and joints. I feel a smooth surface rubbing against me as my body starts going up. I finally lift myself from the floor.

I try to crack my head sideways as is my daily wake up ritual. The crack of consciousness brings my senses to shape. A motion of the jaw releases the sound of yawning to my ears. The jolt of activity brings me to crack at least one eye open. I open myself to the world before me.

I see a room filled to the brim with exquisite works of art. The marble floor has stained tile patterns to match the beauty of its occupants, its peerless reflection serving to allow the observer to see brilliance from any angle of the room. The walls are adorned with works of art that strive to surpass the fickle scythe of time. I could see how cared for the masterpieces are, with the rows of brushes and cloths neatly placed on a table on the far side of the room. They are all stained with the mark of a hygienic hand and the blots known as filth.

The one peculiar oddity about these artworks is the subject of them. They are all about ponies. I’m not talking about the ponies you see next to a very cliché picture of a farm. I’m talking about the ponies you see in fantasy books. Ponies with wings, that seemed to soar beyond the paintings themselves, made their company in the canvas. Ponies with sources of magic on their foreheads were painted as champions of magic, defending against forces beyond the mundane. The only ponies I could recognize were the ponies that were given the warmth of nature surrounding their bodies, interacting with what was around them.

I examine the higher parts of the room. There are windows higher than my ‘body’ can reach. The light shining through the windows indicates that it’s night’s time to appear. A moan goes through my mouth as I try to figure out exactly what happened to me.

What’s going on?

As I start to put my hand on my forehead to calm myself down, I realize something. My hand is, for a lack of a better word, black. It’s kind of like an off-focus photograph, the outlines of the black hand were constantly shifting, like a mist, I can even see double or triple the features of my hand as if by hallucination. My eyes aren’t just the only part of me trying to disbelieve this alien sight. My mind is forcing me to consider this a nightmare.

I dare not scream as to not cause a scene. I don’t know anything about this place. Why would I consider giving myself away? I needed more information before going on. My eyes turn away from the abnormal hand and decide to examine the rest of my body.

What. The. Hell.

My whole body is enveloped in the black fog that obscures the defining features of my hand. My body itself is tinted with a pitch black that engulfs my very being. The illusionary mist, combined with the black hue of my body, makes trying to figure out my body a mystery to me.

One of the features I can tell from sight alone is the fact I was a bipedal creature, with discernible legs and hands. From the way the floor looks, from seeing it through my head at full height, I estimate a height of about 6 ft 10 inches. Another, rather embarrassing, fact I would prefer not to say is that I’m naked. No, get your head out of the gutter, I can’t see if I have such defining features or not, they are all cloaked in the illusionary mantle of fog and I’m not going to use my hands to find out.

I consider what my face looks like so I tried to take a careful look at the reflection of the floor. I creep down with my legs to try to get a clearer image. My eyes start to focus closely at the reflection on the floor. The shape is almost there. My eyes are just adjusting to the finer details. I see it at last… and immediately regret my decision.

I slap my hands across my mouth to stop myself from screaming. I can’t even describe it. I wouldn’t know where to begin. It’s a combination of sickly and disturbing rolled into one nasty ‘face’. Even the fact that my face was the only part of me that isn’t obscured by the black fog gives me no solace. In fact, I want the fog to hide everything about it.

The thing I could tell with absolute clarity was the shape of the eyes. They were a hue of pure white. There was no room for irises or different shades, being the picture perfect example of achromatic color. They reflected everything they saw, just a faded lifelessness overlooking everything I see.

Ok, calm down, think about it for more than a few minutes, you’re an unknown creature in an unknown world. Concentrated white eyeballs aren’t going to make that any worse or different.

A thousand thoughts race through my head to consider what I’d do next. Some are of the rational nature, some irrational and some just plain weird. After careful consideration, I figure out what I’m going to do. I have to get out of here, seek help and figure out this world. Seems crazy, probably is; then again, I’m basically a black mass with fog shifting around me. I think I need to adjust my level of sanity here.

I decide to examine the room for anything I could use. Amidst the collections of artwork, reveals a mass covered by cloth. My eyebrows furrow, this didn’t seem like your usual hidden sculpture or bust. I decide to walk over, the crack of bone perhaps, creak through the air with every step towards the concealed pile. I reach the bundle of cloth and, after mentally preparing myself, lift off the cloth hiding what was under.

Wind bursts out. A violent storm takes hold of the space in the room. A thousand blades of wind rage their edges against the confinement of the small room. The typhoons claim everything in their wake. I immediately cover my eyes and face to protect myself from the thrashing swords, letting my body take the brunt of the forceful tempest. The teeth of the formless steel drive their fangs into my ‘flesh’. I get a little closer to going unconscious as the violent zephyrs beat against my body.

The runaway gales tear through the paintings like raging storms should. Every few seconds, scratches would appear on the works, those scratches would turn into cuts and later those cuts would appear as if a berserker had taken his sword and took a good few unskilled swings at the paintings. The sculptures fared no better, the unrelenting winds being able to slash through marble easily as a hot knife to butter. The destruction resulted in a site of disarray, the marks of thrashing storms laid out for anyone to witness.

I’ll have to pay the owners back later.

I examine my condition first off. My body’s not too bad for wear, a few grazes and cuts, but not bad compared to the ruin surrounding me. I feel a light wind pass through now. I turn my eyes to the source of the tempest.

There’s a sword or, at least, what appears to be a sword, I can’t tell. I can only tell that the blade is covered in a barrier of wind, multiple layers shifting to conceal the sword’s true identity. The handle is the only revealed part of the sword. I grasp at it, reaching out to hold it. It fits perfectly with my hand. I examine the edge of the sword more closely. It looks as though blades of wind are surrounding the sword. I resist the urge to reach my other hand to touch the actual blade. These blades just indirectly caused a calamity so I wasn’t going to shove my hand in there. The one thing that was clear, this sword didn’t belong with the setting of the room.

Maybe someone left it here, perhaps? I’ll send it to the authorities here.

Then for some reason, as I stare at the supposedly peerless sword, words pop into my thoughts, I scrunch what I think are my brows deeper and concentrate on recalling the words, closing my eyes for absolute focus.

Empty Edge - Breath of the Unicorn King: A barrier of wind unsurpassed in speed and edge that releases high compressed air to conceal the identity of the sword behind it. These blades of wind distort the refraction of light and renders what is hidden invisible to the naked eye. These layers of wind can take the form of tearing blades, flowing fields of air or become a vacuum of force. They can increase the speed and cutting potential of the weapon hidden underneath or become a ranged burst of wind. The most versatile of weapons, a hero never reveals his true abilities.

I open my eyes. The words fade away from my mind. I try to smile, not sure if my face is capable of doing so. I check the floor once again. Nope, it only turned out a grimace. A silent shrug passes through the room. At least I have a tool to help me. I further examine the room for anything else. The only things I can see are the cloth I threw on the floor and the scene of chaos that covers the otherwise spotless floor, a few specks of something shining peering through the rubble. The cloth… it kept the wind from bursting out earlier, perhaps it nullifies magic? It seems like it could be useful. I reach out to grab the cloth and cover the obscured sword with it, wrapping it around the sharp edge.

It’s time to get out of here.

I started for the door, not wishing to spend any more time here, when a sound at the door alerts me. My mind goes into gear and I decide the best method is to observe the situation that plays out.

I turn my body towards the behind of the only sculpture left intact right beside the door, a statue of a unicorn in armor draped in a cape. The cape itself is fastened by the shape of moons connected by a chain of intertwined crescents. The only signs of what makes this pony unique, beside attire, are his eyes. They have the twinkle of all-compassing power, lunar shaped irises that gave absolute authority to all who opposed him. I don’t have the time to consider whether this is artistic license or not.

I bend my legs down the ground and wait for who or what is on the other side. The door swings open. A few seconds later of checking the condition of the room and they seem to let themselves in.

I can at least tell they’re ponies or have the shape of ponies. I can’t get a clear look at their coats, peering from just behind the statue. The capes and hoods that cover their coats and heads would be the second reason. They’re of a black dye with deep blue trims on their edges. After a few moments of silence, they both open up their hoods and reveal their true colors.

One of them is a dirt-brown unicorn with a darker brown mane, his eyebrows fixed on his face, examining what was on the floor with a cool eye. The other unicorn seems more of a shifty nature, his grey coat constantly twitching and his white mane disheveled. They both check what has become of the room.

“W-w-what happened right?”

“You’ve never seen something broken?”

“I-I-I mean did someone else scour the place already!?”

“They said this was our mark, someone must’ve decided to hinder our search. Let’s proceed and for Celestia’s sake, be silent.”

“o-o-OK!”

I confirm a few things, they seem to be the only ones coming in, and they were looking for something. These unicorns are capable of telekinesis, a magic grip holding the pieces of rubble and throwing them aside. The two unicorns work in tandem with each other, the brown one holding the rubble up high and the other throwing it aside as they switch the magical burdens. They inspect the site of ruin in search of their objective with a drive of clinic precision.

I hold my breath, waiting for a chance to get out. I can’t be absolutely certain that I can get the upper hand even with a surprise attack. My body is still too stiff to attempt such a rash decision. If I use the element of surprise on them and I don’t get both on the first try, the other will retaliate. I have no idea how fast they would react but I definitely know that this site of wreckage would be the perfect battlefield for wielders of telekinesis. The shards of picture frames and fragments of statues would, in a mistake’s notice, turn into spears and swords capable of tearing through my flesh.

Even at the off chance their minds won’t be alert, I can’t be sure my body wouldn’t share that same flaw. I’ve just gotten here in an unfamiliar body. This is no time to aggravate these unicorns without reason. I continue to observe the hunt these unicorns are processing with, the sheen of their magic still driving the search forward.

Finally, the shine of magic dims and the room shines with only night’s light. The only movement in the room is the brown unicorn’s with his eyes scanning everywhere, the gleam in his eyes being the only sight inspecting the disarray. He looks over the rubble of the statues and the mess of the site. He surveys the area with a through eye, scouring what his magic can’t at the moment. After a few minutes of his eyes fixated he turned with a cool stare to his partner.

“Let’s go, we shouldn’t linger.”

The grey unicorn nods in agreement and, as they fasten their cloaks to cover their appearance, he stares at the statue I’m hiding behind. I see into his eyes for the first time since he came in. I almost shriek in surprise. The sight of the eyes leaves me craving a clear space to empty my stomach.

They’re normal in shape and gold in hue but an abnormality takes hold of that gaze. It is of a mad nature, filled to the brim of insanity and crazed frenzy. Those eyes are the eyes of a hunter robbed of all reason, a zeal that only madness could rein tight. They hold a blue light overseeing everything that the mad hunter sees. They stare at the statue-

No. An infectious thought clouds my mind. My mind stays fixated on one stubborn idea. My throat runs ragged with the breath of desperation. My blood freezes at the thought of this occurrence.

Does this unicorn see me?

I stay my breath, my hands clamp onto my mouth in the hopes of not giving away my position. I can’t be entirely certain he does know I’m here, logical reasoning asking why he hasn’t told his partner yet. If the unicorn is planning a surprise attack however, that’s a different story.

If he pounces at me, there’s no way he wouldn’t be able to tear me apart with the weapons laid out on the floor. Even if I anticipate it, the moment he jumps me will be the moment that this fight breaks into a two against one slaughter against him and his partner. With the rubble prepared for them, only a fate of spears skewering me and blades cleaving my body apiece awaits.

My mind flashes, considering any idea that I could put to action. If he doesn’t know I’m hiding then I can simply rest assured. If he does know that I’m hiding, then the only reason he isn’t swooping at me would probably to have me make the first move. Should I take the risk? His gaze stays on me, unwavering in its focus. The grey unicorn’s eyes are still visible even after he’s fastened his cape and covered his face. The light of his gold eyes burns a bright blue focusing its glare at me. I have the sinking feeling he can see through objects.

I prepare my legs to burst forth. I can only rely on the explosive power of my legs now. I’ve made my decision. I’ll dash at the grey unicorn and knock him out. I’ll take care of the brown unicorn afterwards as he realizes what happened. I can only bet on my endurance and agility, my only hopes are that my legs outpace their magic and that my body can take the jagged edges of the debris that may come. My knees crouch in preparation for the start of the ambush. My mind turns into a blade, its edge as sharp as what I want my movements to be. This is it, as soon as I seize weakness in his movements, I’ll strike.

He keeps his eyes locked onto me, never leaving my sight. The unicorn didn’t seem to want to move, his body as still as his eyes. The atmosphere between us is as malleable as a warm scalpel carving into human skin. I feel a numbing strain where I bent my knees, the silence between us has gone long enough. This is it. The moment he blinks is the moment I thrust forth. I already know which part to target, the most fragile part of most living beings, the head.

I peer into his unflinching stare. His eyes are emanating an unrestrained bloodlust seeping out of his eyes. He’s going to strike. He’s not going to show any weakness and I can’t hope for a careless moment at this point. His hooves aren’t poised for attack but his eyes scream a lust for slaughter. His body shows the emotion of impatience but his eyes state the inhumane nature of the unicorn before me. Now’s the time, either him or me, who will success first? I breathe slowly, my claws poised at the unicorn like the killing glare locked onto me…

The grey unicorn turns away from me, those mystical eyes averting their gaze from me. The heavy atmosphere takes its leave from this room. He turns to his partner and a different tone takes hold of his voice.

“L-l-let’s go-”

As if by an agony controls his body, his mouth seizes, and just as suddenly, spews a layer of red onto the floor of the storage of beauties. The liquid spreads erratically on the floor, the cracks of a red spider web given life. The supposedly mad unicorn shows true signs of humanity: weakness.

His mouth sprawls downwards while his suffering erodes any remaining signs of reason, manifesting as groans of anguish. His partner heeds no attention to this display of misery and continues his stroll towards the outside with an air of indifference.

“Hurry now, we can’t afford to give away our position now.”

The grey unicorn’s body spasms as the pain overrides even his furious howls. Finally, as the voice of coherent words reached him, his body froze with a surreal calm. Only a slight twitch from his hooves told of his recent fits. His head ascends with a strained composure.

The pair starts to leave the shimmering room of wonders with the grey unicorn lagging behind slightly. They leave the storage and, with their capes fluttering about, blend with the darkness that lurks outside.

I relax a bit, my breath moving at a normal rate. My body sags lightly, the muscles loosening from the calm of an uneventful respite. I decide what I should consider next-

Hang on, what’s with the voices outside? I move around the statue and put my head against the wall beside the door and take note of what’s happening. The murmur of voices engages my attention. They seem to not have moved past three meters from the warehouse.

“Her presence will only hamper our progress.”

“S-S-so what do you s-s-s-ugge-s-st?”

A heavy pause occupies the atmosphere.

“That we do not allow her to hamper our progress.”

A cold feeling takes hold of my body, coating it in a chill I’ve never felt before. Was there an unwelcome witness? If so, then they were planning on… I shake my head and ponder on my next actions with an air of caution. The smart thing would be to mind my own business, I mean, logically this is none of my concern. The smart thing would be to simply let them do what they’re going to do. The smart thing would be to shut my mouth and simply let them eliminate the witness.

The jump of my legs pouncing through the night rushes past my ears, the wind whishes from the charge of my sprint. My arms, outstretched, lunge forth to smash the head of the enemy before me. A look of bare comprehension crosses the brown unicorn, as he turns to face me, just before his face contorts from the impact of my fist.

The unicorn flies easily through the night like a puppet thrown through the air. His body crumples with a thud, the crunch of flesh and earth echoing through the night sky. The only sign of life left in the broken pony is his chest, gasping at whatever air the broken body could scour.

God, I’m an idiot, so much of an idiot that idiocy must run through my veins like the blood that keeps me alive.

The grey unicorn jerks his face towards me, his eyes glaring a twisted vengeance straight at me. My body’s already in motion with my left arm upraised, poised to strike. The clothed sword mercilessly tears through the air. The decisive moment between victory and loss, a few seconds before the crazed mage falls as easily as his partner. Finally, it comes, as if time stops-

Herk-!?

No, time doesn’t stop, only my sword stopping seconds short of digging into the supposedly mad mage. The dim glow of magic halts the swing of my arms. The ghastly grasp of his magic cling its unyielding hands to the blade. The unicorn before me manages a feat of precision beyond a magician who’s supposedly forsaken all reason.

That expression, if there were any redeeming features to it, starts to be dyed with the color of malice. Anger distorts the face, frozen in a murderous fury. It twists its jaw and lets out a groan lacking in any human speech. A hunter who preys on his target, the golden gaze is locked onto his vulnerable victim. The unicorn bellows a scream befitting of a mad beast, howling a heartless verdict of death.

There’s no way I can let go of my blade. The moment my grip loosens, the moment the blade turns into a fang for the mad beast.

Desperately, I try to wrench the blade away from the magical glow. The translucent hands remain adamant, its demonic claws clenching on my sword. Despite the skilled art my eyes witness, the wielder doesn’t show any strain from the use of magic alone. His face doesn’t contort or writhe from this show of thaumaturgy.

The disheveled unicorn’s legs crouch down with a groan from the turning of bones, preparing a stance unlike a mage’s. He’s preparing to pounce, the action of a hunter who prepares to fire the final bullet at his weakened prey. There’s a distance of two meters, a distance that the unicorn’s legs could probably close in a flash.

My body prepares to meet his charge, my knees crouching down to prepare for collusion. I can only hope to clash at close range. My mind races with numerous scenarios as image after image of what a telekinesis user such as him could do to me. A small pebble could become a ruthless bullet and a piece of cloth, a hangman's noose.

I roughly shoved those thoughts aside. Any distraction on my part could easily become a far greater weapon for my opponent.

Thus, the only thing I can hope for is a range with I can smash my fists at his flesh. I can only fight him in my range, the range that my hands extend out, and take advantage of the senseless nature of his charge. His jaws lurch outward, showing incisors peerless in ripping apart flesh, preparing to sink those fangs into me. The moment his senses become occupied by the feel of reckless abandon… I’ll drive my knuckles into his ribs.

Before my mind registers what could happen, the consequences of failing, my ears hear a screech in the night.

“GET DOWN!”

My body ducks, the knees further descend without my mind’s consent. My hands let go of the sword and plummet to the ground. It takes half a breath before I realize what would happen.

The air bustles forth above my head with the roar of execution with a rain of rocks pounding against the mad unicorn’s body. To the unicorn whose mind was occupied by mad zeal, the rocks mercilessly sink in the mindless predator.

The barrage savagely, without care or concern, smashes its might into him. The raining projectiles increases in force, each growing more violent as the prior ones tear into his body. The uproar of the collision of flesh and earth groans with the cries of pain from his mouth. They start to howl louder than the gradually sharper shattering of his bones. His body, in just two seconds, becomes a landscape of devastation.

The unicorn bustles through, following the force of the rocks that pierced into his flesh, and collides down with a sickly crunch. The sword suspended in the claws of his magic falls with a clatter as the glow disappears.

The grey pony twitches slightly, his body finally registering the pain it was being subjected to. I try not to listen to his howls of agony but, sure enough, they start to flood the air. The thing is they’re so quiet they come off more as feeble groans. Apparently the impacts busted more than just his central body.

I rise up to take a look at my rescuer, mostly to thank whoever saved me.

A sword rips through the air like the casual tearing of cloth and strikes at the ground behind me. I just barely felt the edge cut through my face as it passed by. I turn my head back. The sword is deeply embedded into the ground, its blade digging thoroughly into the earth.

A little unconventional but I can live with it.

I turn back to see what my rescuer looks like.

After a thump, sharp twinge of pain in my throat and a sudden change of view later, I’m flat against the ground. I’m looking at my so-called rescuer before the moon. I really wish that the blade pressing at my neck wouldn’t dig so deep. They do tend to hurt.

She’s, I think it’s a she, a purple unicorn with golden hair that stretched as long as half way to her hooves, one of them still choking me. She fixes a cool stare at me. The first thing I notice besides her body and the blade inching closer into my neck is the sweat on her brows.

Her face is straining with her brows scrunched together. Her teeth are grinding against each other, screeching a tone of discord. Her face muscles are twitching a nervous dance, spasms shifting back and forth between the sides. Her throat is raking husky screams that tell more of her agony than words could. Even with all that, the most disturbing part of her is her eyes.

They were frigid. Eyes fixed in one position that don’t even flinch in the night air. An unnatural calm holds my attention. These eyes didn’t register the pain surrounding them. It’s as if they’re completely separate from the pony herself. I change my mind. Frigid doesn’t quite fit the feel of them. In fact, I feel nothing from them. Eyes that hold no joy, no pain and no emotion capture me.

The only signs telling me a mere machine isn’t staring at me are the flesh bearing down on me and the color that those eyes carry. Two hues of silver, darkened by the shadows of night, direct their stare at me.

I hold my breath. There has to be a reason she stopped her blade just short. I have to wait just the right amount of time. A weak moment, a second of hesitation, is all I can hope for now. I’ll try to reason with her the moment she relents.

The blade stays its position, fixed on the surface of my neck. I look at her body, her legs pinning my lower body still and her front hooves wringing my neck shut. Seconds lingers in the silence between us. The night air flutters her golden hair through the darkness, her strands obscuring her eyes now.

A grinding sound escapes her lips. It breaks the mutual silence between us. Her body starts to jerk and spasm, it’s not unlike a human suffering from an epileptic fit. Her hooves twitch and shake. A display of fury throbs at my throat but doesn’t direct its attention at it. The grinding stops, and after a few seconds of uneasy silence…

Something drips from her covered face. The unknown drops freely fall from her face and slowly flow down my cheeks. My face soon becomes quelled by the flow of droplets that fall without restraint. I take a careful glance at the liquid descending from the cloak of gold.

Blood?

Blood spills, brilliant colors splatter their petals down onto my face. I assume her blood has colors. It’s too dark to tell. Vivid flowers decorate the surface and replace the hue of black. The flow of blood, thick with life’s veins, sliding down my cheeks tells me that it can’t be tears. Tears don’t flow that easily. I finally realize what she’s been doing all this time.

She’s been biting her lips, the sign of restraint. Her teeth that should tear into flesh full with the blood of green now bear down on herself. Teeth made to grind and grit nature’s creatures of green are now dyed with her blood.

I can’t even see an emotionless monster before me, the sight I see is just too pitiful. I wouldn’t even believe such agony could exist if I didn’t see it myself. No one deserves to suffer, to endure this pain-!?

Silence, once again, takes hold of the space between us. She’s as still like a doll, her body keeping an unnatural stillness. Though the blade still stays at my neck and the force pressuring my held body parts retains its power, there seems to be no activity from her.

Finally, after a few seconds of constrained peace, a breeze pulls her hair away from her face revealing what is behind the golden curtain.

I still see the silver eyes staring at me. They’re peering into my eyes as mine are to hers. There’s a difference though, unlike the void of emptiness that bore into me, these eyes… have the light of concern shining through the glint of night. It’s as if she’s an entirely different pony.

A few moments of discomfort between us and she finally realizes the compromising positions we’re in. Her face seizes with embarrassment for a few seconds of respite and then she proceeds to bear down on me with that stare.

After a few seconds, her mouth starts.

“Why?”

I don’t understand the question so I eloquently reply.

“Hmmmm…?”

She stares at me in confusion.

“Why don’t you hate me?”

Now I’m the one who’s confused, my eyebrows arch and my lips stutter my response.

“Hm?”

She looks at me in worry, her eyes watering.

“I attacked you, hurt you and tried to kill you… Why don’t you hate me?”

Ah… a scene of someone crying appears in my mind. Her tears flow with a weight that I can’t comprehend. She’s crying for what, for whom? Her tears are reserved for a person other than me in this picture. I then return to the pony holding back her regret. There’s really only the obvious to say.

“You saved me, that’s enough a reason for me.”

She now looks at me in surprise. Her throat chokes back a gasp. It’s as if it’s her first time seeing something like this. She smiles a crocked smile, the corners of her lips twitching slightly. A rather bittersweet chuckle pass through her mouth and harshly cuts through the air.

“I almost kill you and you forgive me? This is the part where you punish me.”

My mouth moves in a way that I hope would convey a teasing smile full of good natured humor.

“Too bad.”

She finally manages to hold back her tears and returns my good natured gesture with a laugh.

“Hahahahahaha…”

She finally relents, the blade’s pressure letting up as well, and ascends to let me up. I finally get up, my body trying to get used to the lack of earth behind me. I quickly pick up my clothed sword, take a few practice swings at blank air and examine the condition of the two victims in the night. At the very least, they’re breathing, not in critical condition I’d assume. Someone will eventually find them. I mean they’re out on the streets! They’re like the town drunks at my town except I assume with less belching and more writhing.

I turn to my rescuer. She shrinks away, probably from leftover shame. A pause between us holds our minds. An awkward silence between us passes by. What do you say to someone who nearly tried to kill you and apologized right away?

I realize quickly that the footsteps of an uninvited guest start to intrude on this scene. The thumps of movement start to grow louder and louder against the packed earth as the intruder begin to inch closer.

The purple unicorn looks at me.

“You should go right about now.”

I hear the obvious logic in her words, I’m not a pony, the fact she hasn’t run away from my strange appearance is outlandish enough. Something crosses my mind though… Why was she here at this exact moment? I remember the conversation those two crooks had moments before I ambushed them.

“Her presence will only hamper our progress.”

“S-S-so what do you s-s-s-ugge-s-st?”

I gulp, recalling the sheer remorselessness of the next statement.

“That we do not allow her to hamper our progress.”

She’s out with criminals and villains like that crawling around? I can’t let her do that.

“No.”

She does a double take, her eyes flinch as surprise becomes her demeanor.

“Please, go now.”

The footsteps start to echo louder and louder as the intruder invades our privacy.

“There might be other assailants around. You’ll need someone to protect you.”

There are obvious reasons to join her side. She’s a pony which means she’ll probably be a citizen of this town. Judging from her projectile spell, she’s an accomplished mage which makes being attacked a less tiresome ordeal. She probably knows more about this world and can fill me in. None of those reasons come close to the one that prompts me to protect her.

The footsteps roar louder. I can hear them as if the intruder is right beside me. Why is she being so stubborn in refusing my assistance?

She sighs, looks at me and stares straight at me with these hauntingly beautiful silvers.

“You will move away from this scene, you will run to safety…”

She hesitates. A slight gasp holds her throat. The words in her mouth remain unsaid for a moment’s time.

“Please leave me alone…now.”

I blink my eyes as I sprint away from the two crippled bodies that littered the streets. The sound of my legs rushing through the streets is silent except to a choked sobbing that floods my ears.

I rush through the streets, my feet pounding into the earth. My legs carry me past buildings of equine origins. The beating of my heart stresses how much energy I’m putting into a flight without a clear destination. My footsteps thunder through the silence of the night. My feet pick up speed with every passing step.

I don’t know where I’m going at this point. All I know is that I should run away from that scene of breathing corpses. My mind moves at a speed just below the sprint of my legs.

My body freezes, as if by magic and feels a chill that surpasses fear. A premonition that tells of danger, it tells me that a foe beyond my capabilities lies beyond the path I run. I change directions, running through one of the alleys that resides beside two buildings. My breath turns ragged, it tells of my effort more than the sweat on my brows could-

Hm!? A sharp pain throbs at my head, the same ominous premonition. All the sudden, a cloaked pony is before me, I can’t see its face. The cloak obscures its body and the night helps to hide its features. There’s only ten meters before the two of us. I’ll reach him in two seconds.

I stare at it and its eyes stare me, a blue glow directs its gaze at me.

The violent crack of bones is the last imprint that my senses leave before darkness beyond the night takes me.

Comments

[Trexorb]

WOOT! GO PROUD!! YOU GOT THIS!! WELCOME TO THE CHESSIVERSE MY GOOD FRIEND!

[Horatiojones]

Oh no, they've attacked, everybody run ^^^

[Cloud_Surfer]

Bout time you've posted this.

[AppleTank]

Interesting premise. More updates anytime soon?

[Neoandermcd]

i shall wait for more