20: A Legacy of Delusion
“An honorable death?” Rarity scoffed at the very notion at the Dark Father’s request. “Celestia’s light I’m too young to have seen everything, but by Faust you are certainly trying to make topping that difficult.”
“The truth is often stranger than fiction is it not?” He countered with a dark laugh.
Lyra nudged Rarity’s side. “Inquisitor, I think he’s serious.”
Briefly giving her a baffled eyebrow, Rarity didn’t want to leave the necromancer out of sight for long and looked back with more composure. “Truly?”
Suddenly, shadowy silhouettes appeared in their hundreds all around the village and from on top of the grim temple. The Dark Father spread his wings and the whole area around the Protectors’ influence became pitch black, save for his face. “Listen, and listen well, Inquisitor. If I wanted you dead, all I would have to do is break a rune or two of my prison before all life would snuffed out in the Mirage in a matter of hours.” Lock Stock and Lyra huddled close to Rarity who was making a valiant attempt to remain strong in the face of the abyss, but she was showing cracks of fear as well. “The statue you’re hiding behind,” the Dark Father stated with a dismissive wave of his hoof, “might protect you, but you have too many mouths to feed and not enough grass.”
“Your… point is well received.” Rarity shivered in relief as the darkness receded, and the late afternoon light once again lit up the dense mists above them. “As - as much as I would like to simply duel you, I must abide by the Treaty of Broken Arrows. As article twelve stipulates, any negotiations with a hostile third party must be brokered with representatives of both Equestria and Lunaria.”
Snorting impatiently, the Dark Father pulled back just a bit. “Yes, yes, I am well aware of the treaty.” Without thinking, he maneuvered two wing fingers to his mouth as if smoking a cigarette, only to realize none existed and refolded the wing with a disgruntled huff. “You think me evil, Inquisitor, but I am nothing compared to the mind behind my prison. Go, and send for the good Commander. However, do not mistake my prolonged existence with boundless patience.” He looked around the thick fog, obscuring the sky above. “I grow weary of this false life. And vices that cling to a body that can never enjoy them.”
Nodding diplomatically, Rarity turned to speak into the sargeant’s ear. “Lock, you’re faster on your hooves. Fetch Turnabout post haste.” Before he took off, she quickly gestured for him to wait and turned to gaze upon the ground between the village and the prison. Judging by eye, the mouth of the temple and the village stone wall were roughly fifteen hoofball court lengths apart. The ground looked solid enough with only shallow pools breaking up the ruined cobblestone path and stretches of red clay. The ground looks stable enough for a duel, of a sort. Keeping her face neutral, she whispered to Lock Stock. “And bring my green tailor’s kit.”
Torn between wanting to be far away from the stewing necromancer and leaving Rarity’s side, Lock Stock nodded hesitantly. “As you order, Inquisitor.”
“Oh, and see where Fluttershy scampered off to. If things go wrong, I want her supporting us.”
“Aye.”
Once the earth stallion departed, Rarity’s curious nature got the better of her, and she ignored Lyra’s silent attempts to pull her back from the stone fence. “Do you have a proper name, or should I keep calling you the Dark Father?”
The wispy mass of darkness regarded her with an irritated gaze. “I never really cared for the name those plant kissers gave me… My given name was Stygian. It was a cruel name my father gave me, but recently… I suppose it’s a fair name now.”
Rarity inclined her head respectfully, and adopted a composed smile. “Stygian. Then know that I am Inquisitor Rarity Belle, and this is my retainer, Lyra Heartstrings,” she added while gesturing at her lime green friend. He made no gesture of acknowledgement, save for the barest hint of a nod. Not one to let such small insults derail her, Rarity pressed on. “Stygian, dare I ask how you know so much about things outside of your swamp? If Rock Salt is any indication, his order had very little knowledge of the outside world, and most would presume you’d have even less.”
Silence was all that came for an uncomfortably long moment. Stygian’s glower never left Rarity, yet he eventually relented. “There are some things in this world best left unknown. Makes one question just how dark one’s heart can be. But if there is one thing you Inquisitors are known for besides your prowess in warfare, is your investigative nature, and that I fear would lead you down a path I never want to see repeated.” He turned to face her properly. “No matter the intentions…” He paused, thinking. “But I suspect your allies will ask much the same questions, and I dislike repeating myself. I shall wait before answering.” In a gust of wind his shadowy form blew away, and before the mares could look away, the undead in the distance melted away into the mists.
Though the Crookback village was small, trying to find Rock Salt among them all would have been a fool’s errand without the wilds guiding Fluttershy. The trees and grass swayed towards the east, bending around the winding path the earth stallion had taken to avoid being followed by the Lunarians.
Sitting on the leading edge of the eastern wall of crumbling stone sat a mound of earth with a cracked wooden door that was left open. All of the grass and tree branches leaned towards it.
“Rock Salt!” Fluttershy reached above the house. “Rock Salt are you in there?” She barged inside only to dig her hooves into the dirt to come to a sudden stop. Within the darkened interior, the only illumination was a glowing unicorn horn. That very glow revealed a stallion breathing sharply looking down at the prone form of the young druid.
A rock floated near the unicorn, blood dripping from it. The moment Fluttershy came to a halt, the unicorn jumped out of surprise and hoisted the rock threateningly at her. There was some furniture between them, a three legged table and two chairs, both grown straight out of a tree. Cups of cold tea lay spilled on the compacted dirt floor. The house was mildly warmer than the cold air outside, but only just enough to avoid hypothermia during sleep.
“Pink hair, the smell of earth and life. You must be Fluttershy. The fool spoke well of you.” Keeping the blooded rock wrapped in his orange magic, the stallion side stepped away from the downed druid to clear a path between him and her.
Fluttershy’s first thought was to flee for help, but her training allowed her to stand her ground. She kept darting her eyes between Rock Salt and the stranger. “Did you kill him?”
Sparing a touch of magic to illuminate Rock Salt, the young stallion’s chest was rising and falling. “Apparently his thick headedness did him a favor, not that I won’t be changing that shortly.”
Good I got here in time. Relief swelled within Fluttershy, only for her to quickly squash it to remain focused. “May I have your name?”
The dark brown stallion kept his mouth shut for a tense moment before relenting. “Not that it will matter. I am known as Stalwart Hill.”
“Thank you,” Fluttershy tried to get a look at Rock Salt, but couldn't risk taking her eyes off of Stalwart. “The ground here is already drunk off of blood, you don’t need to add his too.”
“It’s not like I wanted to,” the would-be killer hissed bitterly. “All he had to do was stay away. Find another order or something, but he came back, just like I knew he would. Daft fool never was a sharp one.”
Fluttershy’s thoughts flowed a mile a minute, trying to keep the stranger talking while also remembering her training against unicorns. “If you’ll let me, once we settle matters here, I’ll take him away. Make a new order with him.”
The stranger, who was trying to be civil towards her, suddenly gave a sour face, and the glow over the rock brightened. “If you knew how damned the Crookbacks were, you would have never made that offer. Our lands, our song, our very perception of magic itself. All of it is blackened by the damned prison.”
Fluttershy risked taking two desperate steps forward. “Songs can be re-tuned, eyes opened, And the lands healed with fresh minds.”
“And then there are times the herd must be culled due to disease,” he countered sharply while stamping his hoof. “The slate must be wiped clean. You and your allies will see to both the prison’s and Dark Father’s destruction, but every last Crookback but die with them, or the Mirage will never return to what it once was.” Stalwart stared at Rock Salt’s prone form. “Because of him. The fool that he is doesn’t even realize his ability to sway others. Imagine it, with no evidence to speak of, Rock Salt talked so many outsiders into coming here when they and your masters are so close to war yet again.” Shaking his head in sudden depression, Stalwart nearly let go of the rock before he caught himself slipping. “He would have made a great leader, had he been born anywhere but here.” Fluttershy attempted to approach him tactfully, but Stalwart didn’t want to be consoled, nor pitied. The magical grip on the bloodied stone surged anew, halting her steps. “But just by being here, allowing ponies to live and die within this swamp, the temple will return. That is our curse.”
The stranger started shifting towards Rock Salt, the bloodied rock still firmly within his grasp. Fluttershy matched him by stepping closer. “No curse is immutable. The Lunarians, they have the means to completely disrupt magic, and a curse is no different.”
“A blasphemer like you can take faith in such things perhaps,” the stallion said with far less disgust than Rock Salt ever did. “Nay, my order failed as nature’s protectors, and now I must do what we should have done thirteen hundred years ago, and thin the forest!” He raised the rock intending to strike the unconscious druid.
Fluttershy rushed forward with surprising speed and tackled him in time to make the rock land harmlessly next to Rock Salt.
“I won’t let you harm him!” Fluttershy tried to grapple a foreleg and twist it for compliance, but the stallion kicked her stomach before she could, and threw her off of him. She tried to recover, but he grabbed her with his magic, and slammed her against the furniture.
She cried out in pain as Stalwart stalled his attack. “I don’t want to kill you, blasphemer. Stay down.” Forgoing the rock this time, he grabbed Rock Salt by the head with his magic intent on twisting it.
“Rebuke!” Fluttershy shout-sang. As the word hit him, the unicorn’s magic fizzled and died. He recoiled in pain as his horn had been kicked. She shook to loosen her muscles up a bit before shakily getting back to her hooves. “Nor do I want to harm you. But you’re not giving me much choice.”
“How did-” Shaking off his surprise, the stallion charged his horn while physically grabbing Rock Salt.
“Silence!” she cried, dousing his horn once more, but he was prepared this time, and threw Rock Salt at her with enough force to double her over. The unconscious pony’s weight sandwiched Fluttershy with the overturned table at a bad angle and horribly twisted her right wing almost to breaking and destroyed a number of feathers.
“You had your chance, blasphemer.” Closing in, he tossed Rock Salt aside and grabbed at Fluttershy who was still too stunned by her pained wing to even cry out in agony. “I already helped slaughter my village. What’s one more soul for the salvation of Mirage?”
“I heard shouting!” Called a not-so distant voice from outside.
The stallion’s gaze shot to the door and the sound of approaching hooves and wings. Fluttershy gritted her teeth through the pain. “Good luck fighting all of them,” she scornfully, hoping he would opt to run.
“You think I care if I live?” He dropped Fluttershy and tried to grab Rock Salt into his magic for another attempt to end his life.
“Desist!” she half yelled, making him drop the young druid.
With a final growl of rage, Stalwart slapped her muzzle to silence her. Fluttershy had spots in her eyes from the impact. He vaulted the overturned table towards Rock Salt. He took a chair and raised it up over his victim, only for a militiapony to barge in.
The Lunarian mare couldn’t see Rock Salt from her angle, but knew violence when she saw it. “Stop right there!” Barely even acknowledging her own command, she raised her rifle intending to shoot.
“If you had any sense you’d kill him!” Without hesitating Stalwart threw the chair at the militapony. The gun fired wide, and the chair forced her to shield herself with the rifle and was pushed back outside, shouting expletives the whole way out.
All but shoving the unbalanced mare away, Lock Stock bulldozed his way inside, saw the unicorn and moved to unholster his pistol. Stalwart tried to stomp Rock Salt with both forehooves, but by now Fluttershy was close enough to swing out a hind leg and trip him up. Lock Stock fired early as he raised the pistol, and on the druid’s downward fall, the bullet went through his head instead of his chest.
Ultimately, he landed in a limp heap at Fluttershy’s hooves, right as a couple other Lunarians tried to shove their way inside. The splash of blood on her face and neck left Fluttershy stunned as Stalwart’s lifeless eyes stared at her. Lock Stock hastily holstered his pistol, and went for Fluttershy’s side. “Celestia’s Light, are you hurt?”
Still frozen for a few seconds longer, it took him jostling her shoulder for Fluttershy to snap out of it. “Just - Just my wing.” Fluttershy hissed as the pain returned in full force, making her clamp her eyes shut. “Please, check on Rock Salt.” Breathing heavily, she leaned against his rough and strong barrel.
A mare with sergeant stripes pulled the bewildered soldiers back so she could step inside. “What’s all this then?”
By now, Lock Stock was slipping Fluttershy onto his back. She wanted to protest, but the movement was painful to the point of drowning any words out if she tried to speak, so it was left to Lock Stock. “No idea, looks like a local so druid matters maybe,” Lock jerked his head at the body. “Rock Salt over there needs a medic, and I’m taking Fluttershy back to the ship.”
The sergeant looked between the three druids before finally stepping up to help secure Fluttershy on Lock Stock’s back. “By the Moon you daft bird, you look more roughed up than Berry after one too many sherries. Oi! Valley Shine, Drill Wood, get your tails in here and take Rock to the doctor!”
It had been close to an hour since Rarity had sent Lock Stock off to fetch Fluttershy and Turnabout. Not that she truly noticed as her attention was locked on the decayed grounds before her. An honor duel of all things… But why? If that is all he wanted, he didn’t need to attack the flotilla at all, just wait until they got here, then request a duel. A pity I have such little time to suss out his motives. Shaking the distracting thought aside, Rarity focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, the simplest plan is the best one. A quick strike before he even realizes he’s lost. Not to mention it will give the Lunarians less of an idea on my capabilities to share with their superiors.
While Rarity brooded, Lyra had stood guard with her staff held tight by a foreleg. Though the Dark Father’s image had vanished, his servants still watched from afar, just enough that the mists obscured their features. “What is it you always said, Inquisitor? About using the shadows like that?”
Blinking to clear her thoughts, Rarity joined Lyra’s side. “They’re more worried about presentation than they should be.”
Lyra’s reply came up short when the sound of marching hooves came from the direction of the docks. They looked to find Turnabout and no less than forty troopers filtering through the narrow paths. “Is it me, or does she look angerier than Lock did when you forced him to sober up for two weeks?”
Arching an amused eyebrow towards her companion, Rarity said with amusement, “he never showed such anger towards me.”
“Cause he’s not an idiot,” Lyra scoffed. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
Turnabout finally reached the pair, and briefly scanned the grounds between the village and the temple. “Where is that son of a sow?! That bastard thinks he can just duel his way out eating canister shot!?”
As if to back up her threat, coming behind the mass of infantry were the three parrott guns being wheeled in through the widest path, with Lock Stock finally walking in behind them. Yet what got Rarity worried was Fluttershy was leaning heavily against him as they approached. Coming up behind even them was Blind Speaker who hobbled along muttering curses about weak knees and uneven paths.
If they’re here at all, then it couldn’t be the Lunarians who harmed her, so I can put a pin on that for the moment. Addressing the irate officer, Rarity spoke with her best diplomatic tone. “Perish the thought of denying him such a change in diet.”
Once the throng of soldiers came to a stop, the light outside of the Protectors’ influence went out like a candle, casting everyone into a midnight gloom. The militia were taken by surprise, but there was no cry of panic among them, which impressed Rarity immensely.
Moments later, the Dark Father’s shadowy figure emerged and the filtered light of the sun returned. “Commander Turnabout, I take it you are going to decline my request for an honor duel.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Turnabout thrust a hoof at the entity of shadow standing barely ten meters outside of the fence. “First rank, open fire!”
The cramped arrangement of the village made having a proper firing line impossible, making the militia too disorganized to give a clean volley of fire, not that the Dark Father reacted in the slightest as bullets ripped his projection apart, only for it to reform seconds later. He looked more amused than anything.
By now, Lock Stock and Fluttershy had arrived at Rarity’s side, with Lock Stock giving his superior a shrug. “I told her he wasn’t actually there.”
Rarity kept quiet for a few moments so she wouldn’t unnecessarily antagonze the Lunarian commander, and simply gave Fluttershy a concerned frown. “Are you alright?”
Nodding with a pained grimace, Fluttershy used her good wing to push off of Lock Stock. “I can still sing.”
“Then the details of what happened can wait. I’m just glad you are alright.”
“I won’t have it!” Turnabout yelled furiously at the unmoved phantom. “You killed almost four hundred of my brothers in arms, and you dare ask an Inquisitor to duel you? My brothers and sisters didn’t die getting us here just so she can steal satisfaction out from under us!”
Tilting his head in bemusement, the Dark Father replied, “So you would throw away more lives in trying to defeat me in open battle when you stand a chance of letting one of your biggest enemies die in their place?”
Turnabout raised a hoof and wanted to continue arguing, but the logic was too sound, and it caused rumblings among the soldiers behind her. Dropping her hoof, Turnabout finally looked at Rarity before returning her glare towards the necromancer. “Why do you even care? Necromancy’s always been one step away from outright being banned, and what you’ve done is worth damnation a thousand times over.”
Weathering her anger like an admiral in a storm, the Dark Father nary moved an inch until she was done. “Because the ancient laws of the Armada are clear. There are only three ways the dishonorable can cleanse their spirit and be granted a seat among the heroes of old. First, to be a commander in open battle and die to the enemy, to duel a foe of equal or greater prowess than yourself, or to die in childbirth. Since the last option is out of the question, and your soldiers did not have a battlemage among you, the inquisitor’s presence is why I am offering a chance for you to save your soldiers’ lives.”
“You honestly think this is about personal pride?” Turnabout countered hotly. She turned to address the assembled soldiers “How about it boys? After slogging through this damned morass, finally kicking down the door and throwing the Dark Father out of his cell so we can end him rightly, do any of you want to now just step aside and let an Equestrian Inquisitor get the final glory?”
What she got was a mixed bag. Several members of the militia shouted in agreement while most only gave lackluster responses, and a noticeable few sounded their disapproval. Chief among them was Turnabout’s master sergeant who stepped up to her. ‘With respect, Commander, once we get the engine inside the temple, prison, whatever it is, and we break the necromancer’s cell open, then we’ve done our part. Let the inquisitor make herself useful and kill the bastard father. It’d be the only useful thing she’s done.”
“And what do you think’s going to happen when she goes back to her masters.” Turnabout addressed the soldiers more than the sergeant, but she kept her gaze fixed on him. “I can already see the Equestrian papers now. ‘Brave inquisitor saves us all from the horrors of the Mirage after militia cowers at the end.’ I bet my command that’s exactly what’ll happen if she steps in. We’d all be a laughing stock.”
“At least we’d be alive, ma’am,” the sergeant replied with careful tact. “It’s not like anypony else could take him on in single combat.”
The two paused in mutual frustration, each wracing their minds for a solution.
Rarity gave a lady-like huff before speaking with her companions. “Don’t you love how they talk about us as if we weren’t standing barely fifteen feet away from them?” Rarity’s indirect insult centered all attention on her, to which Rarity found most agreeable in almost any situation, as she addressed the surprisingly patient necromancer. “Mister Stygian, as delightful as modern politics can be, I can’t help but wonder how you know so much about the recent events, let alone who we are by name.”
Unlike everyone else, the Dark Father looked rather disappointed the bickering had stopped. “It’s not a pretty story, but leave it to an Inquisitor to poke her nose where it shouldn't go. But I have all the time in the world, and that train engine of yours still has a ways to go before it gets here, so I’ll indulge.” He started pacing, his eyes never falling on anyone for more than a moment. “My prison, and my tenure within it, is old. Older than Hearth's Warming, actually. I wasn’t privy to how it was made, save for some rumors that House Amethyst found a natural portal and stabilized it, then built this place first as a retreat, then a last refuge when the Windigos struck. I’ll just say that I was already unpopular when I escaped that deathly winter, and that my attempts to bring a small invention with me destroyed the portal, cutting off the master of the house’s children from escaping.” He shrugged his wings as if the ravages of time had bled away all remorse. “I had no way of knowing that’s what would happen, but when has ignorance ever done much to cool theanger of the powerful? So I was made an example of, and sealed within a pocket realm that would turn my body into undeath in order to keep my spirit both awake and trapped for as long as the prison lasted. But of course you undoubtedly ask, how can such an old prison remain functional? Well, you need only look to the Crookbacks for that.”
A string of astonished gaspes and disbelief swept the assembled invaders, with Fluttershy limping forward to be heard. “You can’t be saying they maintain the prison! They loathe anything involving artificial buildings, let alone one as blackened as your prison.”
A grim smirk spread far too wide on his face. “And yet they live in houses under the protection of a statue. You - ahh, now I recognize you. You were the only singing the tree song last afternoon on the boat. You’re no Crookback… Which means you, druid, should understand more than most that the ‘civilized’ do not hold a monopoly on hypocrisy.”
Stygian waited for a few moments, long enough to see Fluttershy’s ears wilt and any further rebuke died on her tongue. Snorting in terse satisfaction, Stygian continued. “But the Crookbacks can’t help themselves, really. For they are the inbred descendants of House Amethyst and its servants. All of whom struck a bargain that they and their descendents would protect this place in perpetuity. The druids come within these walls to sweep up the dust, scare out whatever vermin can survive the poison of this place, and ensure the carved runes are still intact. They honestly believe these acts of service contain the evil here so nature remains untouched.” Stygian flared his wings and swept them at the tainted lands surrounding him. “Look around, druid, gaze upon the efforts of those who try to sweep dust with a bare stick. Their uneducated hooves have caused more damage to these lands than even the heartless master of house Amethyst could stomach. Even he, the twisted mockery of a pony that he was, would have rather stayed and let the frost consume him if he knew what fleeing here would have caused to the forest that once dwelt here.” He scoffed while lowering his wings and giving Fluttershy a mocking huff. “Twas the only thing he found beautiful in this world. And he had a wife and three children,” he added with a spiteful laugh.
Every one of the ponies listening were horrified, some in stark disbelief, others taking him at his word, most started whispering to each other in a fevered pitch, yet it was Fluttershy who challenged him with renewed, yet desperate hope. “That can’t be the whole truth. The Crookbacks can’t possibly have been so blind.”
The Dark Father laughed with callus disdain, not for her, but for the dead order. “Oh believe me, many of them over the centuries started to realize the wards they were preserving did nothing to halt the leaking of dark magic into the Mirage. But none of them had the strength to challenge the old ways, or they lacked the charisma to convince the others. I’m sure somepony like you, who serves alongside the ‘civilized’ understands that.”
His words struck her like a slap across the face. Fluttershy averted her gaze as thoughts of the stubborn Roan elders flooded her.
Seeing that he had silenced her a second time, Stygian continued on with a dark frown. “And I have saved the worst to the last, because these druids’ last rites rituals don’t release the dead to whatever afterlife awaits them, oh no no, their misfortunes eclipse even my own. No, instead the poor souls are sent here to my cell. I am forced to watch each soul’s life from start to finish all the while the soul is burned away to strengthen my prison. It was Lord Amethyst's wish that I remain as sane as one can be while trapped in a realm of darkness for an eternity. After all in his words, ‘there’s no point in caging a mad dog, for he can not suffer as much as a pony who still remembers who they were.’”
What a masterful way of gathering intelligence, were it not so revoltingly abhorrent, Rarity mused.
“Now, I tire of talking about myself and waiting for this bickering to end,” he added with finality and dividing his attention on Rarity and Turnabout. “Either I will fight you as a commander or as a duelist. Make your choice.”
With amused smugness, Rarity eyed the gathered Lunarians who were either honest about not wanting to fight to the boastful who were held back by their more intelligent friends or by some imagined injury. At least Turnabout is smart enough not to volunteer anypony by force. She sighed impatiently, an act that was beneath her potentially, but the Lunarians’ blustering had worn thin. Rarity was about to speak when Lyra stepped up to the edge of the fence and loudly declared, “I can take him.”
Those who heard the musician stared blankly at her, while Rarity gently tugged Lyra back a step and asked with a fakest of good humors. “Lyra, dear, what are you doing?”
“What no pony else can,” she answered with a strained, almost false smirk. “The Lunatic militia would’ve put somepony forward already if they had a fighter that could take the Dark Father. You’re too contentious to do it, Fluttershy’s injured, and this falls out of Lock Stock’s skill set.”
“Be that as it may, we planned to have your talents remain unknown, remember?” Rarity answered back with enough of a terse scowl that it kept the Lunarians from confronting Lyra about her boast for the moment.
Unperturbed by Rarity’s overt disposition, Lyra wrapped her staff into the crook of her left foreleg. “Then I suppose that honor will remain with you instead. Provided you let me see this through, hybrid to hybrid.” she whispered into Rarity's ear.
Rarity’s stern gaze matched Lyra’s resolute one. The inquisitor worked her jaw, mulling over what to do. “I can’t say I approve… but I will allow it.” Rising her voice to speak to everyone, Rarity moved so most of the militia could see and hear her. “I am not so proud that I must insist on being his duelist, and wounding your pride as a people is not my goal. I offer the services of my retainer, Lyra Heartstrings to do Equestria's part in these matters." She faced Turnabout in particular now. "After all, those same newspapers would deride me and my companions if we did nothing but watch."
Turnabout was grinding her teeth at being called out on all sides. She tore her eyes off of Rarity and towards her sergeant and wavering soldiers. Some proudly grasped their rifles, silently begging her to let them fight. Others however were clutching their weapons with terror on their faces as their eyes chased shadows all around them. In the end, the weight of writing many more death letters to loved ones is what drove her to sigh heavily. “Fine. She’ll do.”
“And so, the die is cast,” Stygian claimed while clapping his wings. “Your substitute is acceptable. Once you break my cell, remove the machine so that we can duel right here without interference. I can’t tell you how much I’ve been waiting for this day.” The air rippled around the Dark Father as cackling laughter of joy echoed through the whole swamp as his form vanished once more.
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Yikes, on all fronts. I have several questions, (1) Who the hell was that unicorn? (2) Will Rock Salt survive (and if so, what condition will he be in when he wakes up)? (3) How is the Rarity - Dark Father fight going to go?
I feel like an update to the tags is in order since we have gone far from just Twilight and pinkie being the protagonists
11108933
Already done.
No continuation? Much sadness.
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It’s continuing, its just that I am doing advanced job training until March. But I might have a chapter out in February.
Great story! Looking forward to reading more. Hope all is well with you.
Well this was where i stopped last time. Let’s see where this goes ;)