Chapter 2 – Sons of the Earth
Present Day
Beneath Foal Mountain
He simply stared to it, no movement seen upon his mask, as they all soon would stare down at the wormhole.
It descended down a deep slope of hollow ground, resting at the bottom of a tremendous slide. At times, he began to question and doubt if it was even feasible, if it would be possible to move such an object through such a chaotic means of transport. But he knew better than to doubt. He had learned so long ago never to question.
Emrick was born only to believe. And believe he did.
A cracked and worn horn stuck out from the skull’s forehead that he wore. Beneath the twisted antlers, under the pale white skull of an unknown creature, there stared and blinked the eyes of a unicorn. Just a pony. A dark amber was his coat and a fading gray his mane and eyes. But it was all nearly hidden by the dark, dreary cloak he bore upon his body. A cloak belonging to that of a high priest among his people.
His people… Emrick could still hear their strained grunts and groans bouncing off the walls. It was a necessary struggle. A short moment of pain before they were to attain the paradise they were promised. He turned to them, Emrick their leader, their priest, their Immortal casting his gaze to the sight that made his heart swell.
The skull of their god was spared from the massacre that occurred above world.
The Above deemed his rule to be unrighteous in their eyes, but in their eyes they could never see the truth. They could never understand the glory they were about to attain. Though he was but a fragment, a fragment was all they needed. The golden scales were rotted to unveil the damaged skull beneath, the empty eye sockets staring off into the shadows of the cavern. For now, the head of Ghidorah was settled upon the ground, as the unicorns surrounded it from the sides, the Pegasi hovered above, and the Earth ponies pushed from behind.
In a combined effort, the Occult of Ghidorah were doing exactly as their lord had commanded them. Exactly the words that were breathed forth from the Immortal Priest. Breathed from the very breath of their god. They all wore similar clothing as he, dark cloaks covering their bodies while skulls shielded their faces. Some were of creatures known to the world above. Some completely unknown.
Other members of the Order of the Dragon, the Harbingers of Zenith, the most powerful hooves to the Immortal Priest himself, stood lighting the way. Their golden masks were nearly concealed beneath their black hoods, skull-like as all the others. Jagged mandibles from the ancient masks dangled from their jaws, sharpened to fine points as were the teeth. Their eyes were black, concealed in shadows as the fires from the torches cast their light upon them. Upon the cavern. Upon their god.
As their god commanded, they were to bring him safely into their home. To Below, where the final component of the ritual had been attained. They had waited many millennia for this moment, for his glorious return, and his cry spurred enough life in their fading hearts to bring the cult back from the shadows. Their Ruler spoke as the Dragon, let the Voice breathe through him so they knew where to find their god. And they did. And they were bringing him home.
Pegasi held ropes in their jaws, their wings and muscles and every fiber of their beings straining to lift the monumental skull deeper forward into the cavern, to the awaiting vortex. Unicorns stood on the sides, lifting with their magic whenever the Pegasi found their strength to haul Ghidorah’s head forward. The Earth ponies at the rear drove their shoulders and themselves onto the severed neck, pushing with all their might but only acquiring a few feet every ten minutes or so.
Emrick did not care how long it took. Their ancestors had died waiting. Their grandparents, their fathers, their mothers, all passed before their glorious rise could ever become reality. Emrick—chosen in birth to lead them as the next Valiant, the next Diligent, the next Immortal—was blessed with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The responsibility that came from it would have taken any other pony into the depths of insanity of which there was no return. Such weaknesses that claimed former Immortals. But Emrick was forged for this moment. He knew he was born for something truly great. Their god cried to them. They returned for him. And now the ritual would begin and they would reign with him in one swift and final strike.
Where the Above would kneel to the Below.
A moment, a celebration, a proud victory known simply… as the Day.
The Day of the Dragon. The Day of Reckoning. The Day of Zenith. The Day. All breathed the same truth. All soon to come to pass. They were but a few hundred yards away from reaching the vortex, and Emrick would wait many more hours if need be. So, he gazed into the swirling colors that painted his gray eyes a rainbow of fire. He stood straight and still in his heavy cloak that swayed to the soft breeze.
But there was no breeze.
So deep in the earth they were, there couldn’t have been. Instead, the air whispered against his ears and made each lobe flick to their hushed calls. It washed over him, the call, the breeze, the touch he knew all too well. Emrick’s head tilted away from the vortex, his eyes shuddering to a close as his breath stilled to solid ice.
“My Emrick…”
It was him. Breaking through the bonds of death and life and finding the means to speak through Emrick once more. Ghidorah’s call, the dragon’s tongue, the breath of their god. The Voice. The Darkness crept along the walls and drowned all the world around him, leaving just Emrick and his god in a world all their own.
“Lord…” the priest called in return, “your will?”
Raspy and wet, as heavy as the earth, the Voice responded, “Why do you bring me here?”
“For the ritual,” Emrick said, almost taken aback by Ghidorah’s question. Regardless, he knew his lord was weakened by the massacre, and his power was fading. Perhaps the god’s memory fading as well? Emrick dreaded the thought, and knew Ghidorah shared his own. “Only from Below can we truly start to rise. It was foretold by the ancients that you would be brought to us—”
“As… such?”
Emrick turned back, gazing longingly to the limp, fractured skull being dragged forward by the Order. A few more feet closer. “Certainly not the way we would have hoped. Yet it matters not. The ritual will bring everlasting life to your followers, as promised. And most certainly for you, as well… the one who brings about the sacred apocalypse… sparing his chosen to reign with him in Zenith. The New World. Forever.”
The promise of paradise was forged since the first arrival of the grand king. Many, many ages ago when the beasts retreated Below to escape the apocalypse Above. Then, their most ancient of followers witnessed Ghidorah warring against the Usurper, the one who would eventually claim Ghidorah’s rightful throne and banish their lord into the depths of the abyss. For so long, the destruction Above ravaged all life. Their ancestors had no choice but to descend Below with the beasts.
Their ancient Order, the Occult of Ghidorah, it was all born from the fires of desolation from the Usurper. Prophesying such a day when they would return Above, the ancients claimed to have spoken to their god just as clearly as Emrick could speak to him now. Many histories had passed, but the promise lived through it all. They would attain Zenith, the peak of their strength and rule to the world above. Ghidorah would lead his chosen followers and claim their kingdom.
They would leave the world below. The vast caverns Emrick could see stretching for miles to his left and to his right. The mighty pillars of rock connecting the ground from the ceiling. The vile darkness. Their scavenging. Their burrowing. Their desperate fight for survival in a dangerous land beneath their hooves would finally end. Paradise would be achieved. They would have a new land, a new home, and a New World. Just the dream of it brought a burn to his eyes that Emrick needed to shut.
But his eyes burst open when Ghidorah uttered…
“The ancients have been misled…” Emrick shuddered, turning rapidly back to the decaying skull in search, in desperate hope for some kind of explanation. “The sacred apocalypse… has been prevented… but it can be reborn… as I can.”
“My lord…?” Emrick called, his voice reaching the Harbingers of Zenith, earning a few slow, studious glances.
But they could not hear as he could. They were not granted the privilege of hearing the Voice of the Dragon for now. Their purposes, their lives, were all in servitude of the Immortal Priest. They had no right to question. As for Emrick, when the Voice spoke to him, all he could think of were nothing but a sea of questions.
When the Voice said, “Retrieve… the Bewitching Bell…”
“The ancients did not speak of any… ‘Bell’?” Emrick said, bringing forth his first question.
“They knew not of its existence from Below. I sensed its power in Canterlot… a raw strength unlike any other. A darkness that consumes all light. Such power can ravish and reshape creation… and even… correct… it.”
“My lord… why not tell me of this power sooner? If we had known—”
“My strength fades with every word I tell you… You must travel to Canterlot… find the Bell in the Archives… bring… it… to… meee…”
“But the ritual—”
Emrick gasped, hunching forward and nearly collapsing as the overwhelming Darkness invaded his open mind. A mind he so willingly gave to his god, and now he used it against him. Flooding him with unapparelled evils that screamed in the silence, fears and terrors that stole every last breath from Emrick’s lungs. The screams filled his ears and made him momentarily deaf. His vision was fading, slowly consumed by the shadows until… the Darkness retreated. His god relented by his mercy alone, and the Voice spoke once more to him.
“The Day draws near and the ritual will be its harbinger… but such power to enact it is impossible alone. No unicorn, no magic of this world can accomplish it. You must retrieve the Bell… only its sacred power can quell the barriers between possible and impossible. Only the Bell… can save me.”
Trembling on his hooves, taking in several gasps of hot, heavy air, Emrick finally managed to compose himself. Just enough to rise up and stare into the shadows, into nothing but the Darkness.
The Voice spoke from it, and told him, “Once the Bell is taken, the rulers of Above will scour all the lands to retrieve it. Their armies will descend upon us… they have already discovered a means to travel Below.”
Just as fear was seconds away from consuming him, now a fiery anger had replaced it. A passionate strength that burned deep within Emrick’s heart and the furthest fathoms of his beliefs. “Impossible! How could they have found the sacred vortex?!”
Emrick was furious, and worried, but not without good reason. The vortex was their sacred portal, the very same passage their ancestors had taken to escape the genocide at the hands of the Usurper. The very same passage they had taken to rescue their god. And now, it could have very well come to the knowledge of their enemies. The next thing they knew, it could fall into the hands, the hooves, the greedy claws of the Above.
“Their curiosity… it is unearthing your home. Soon, they will curse it as they have Above. The ritual must be accomplished in their lands, in their homes… in their blood. They must be weakened first. We will rise as I have promised… and all the earth will be cleansed of chaotic powers. All the earth will kneel to its unknown heart. To us… forever.”
As a burning poker was jammed into freezing waters, so too did Emrick’s anger fade. Hearing of the ritual changing locations made his heart sink back home, and he turned to see his people still struggling to move the head further. They had fought through every ounce of pain just to bring the head to the vortex… and now their god ordered them to return it to the Above. To claim the Bell. To bring Ghidorah back. To strike at their enemies.
Though it hurt to see his people continue to toil, it hurt so much more to ignore the promise of his lord. The Darkness hurt so much more.
The Voice was pleased Emrick finally agreed. “There is much that must be done before we can attain paradise. You must convince them. You must promise them as I have to you. All will be made right. Trust in me… Believe in me…”
There was silence. The Voice wanted him to say it. “Do you understand, my Emrick?”
And the Immortal lifted his head, opened his burning eyes, and nodded. “Yes, my lord… I understand.”
The painful weight in his heart was lifted when the Darkness was pulled away, and the Voice gave him one last assuring strength to believe in. One last call in the sweltering heat of the earth that they would soon no longer be prisoners of.
“For the Day of the Dragon draws near…”
“… and we will be together to reign in the sun,” Emrick finished, closed his eyes to mutter one last silent prayer, before he began the next most difficult step forward: ordering his people to move backward. And they did in suffering, keeping their thoughts to themselves, as they carried, dragged, and pushed the head of Ghidorah back to the world above.
Artwork by Shrekzilla
Stats
Page generated in 0.017 seconds
Total duration
954 users online
469,059 hits today, 2,167,270 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
I hate evil cults
11373411
You and me both.
11373419
Thanks
OOoooohhh dear, something wicked this way comes
Oh, dear. I smell a lot of trouble for our characters in the future, because of this.
When gods and kings clash, the devil stirs...
Of course, it's a freaking cult.
Ghidorah Cult and Mechagodzilla being built. Now all we need is the heir to the throne of Sombra and we can get the party all back together. 😉
Presumably it would have been one of titans he had been with the longest that got implanted. Typhon most likely. Then the eggs will hatch and the fun can begin. We never got to see Godzilla fight the two MUTO’s after all.
Oh, dear...
Oh crap, oh crap!
They’re going for feel really dumb if that voice is actually the real Grogar tricking them into powering him up.
Is it wrong to wish Malefor and Grogar were part of the Occult of Ghidorah?
Dumbass Cults, how does Ghidorah know about the Bewitching Bell’s capabilities, did he had some kind of connection to Grogar(the real one) in the past?
Cultists! We got fanatical cultists!
Alright sweethearts, you heard the man and you know the drill! A$$holes and elbows! It’s time for another bug hunt!
11373411 As you should
11373442 Something dark
11373463 This is just the beginning of something much, much more terrifying
11373474 Like a prowling lion, the enemy stirs
11373626 I wouldn’t count on sombra coming back. I’d say something much worse on the horizon
11373917 Oh crap is right
11373967 Yeah, that’d be dumb
11373973 Remind me who Malefor is again
11373988 He sensed its power in Canterlot.
11374044 Something bigger than a bug hunt is needed for this one
11374445
My heart belong to Jesus Christ. I bow to no one but him alone
11374445
Malefor is a villain from The Legend of Spyro
11374445
I know that, what I’m saying is how does he know it’s capable of bringing him back to life let alone know it’s name.
11374445
Double, double, toil and trouble
Fire burn and cauldron bubble
Double, double, toil and trouble
Something wicked this way comes!
11374445
There may yet be a Second Battle of the Three Kings. Perhaps even more kings than the first.
11374458 Amen!
11374489 The dark spirit has had some time to ponder
11374577
Thanks
11374445
Don’t know, have you seen a Xenomorph infestation? Damn bugs are *tough* to wipe out if you let them establish a hive.
…wait, did you even get the Aliens quote?
11374445 Malefor https://youtu.be/rypw5YD7H_Y
11374458
Agreed I bow to no one but JESUS and GOD
11374876
Now if it's a respect bow... Debatable
11374879
What?
11374887
The bow I'm talking about is to a martial arts teach. The one you only use your upper torso.
11374778 Been a while since I've seen that movie
I can only wonder how every creature will react to this cult and its past...
11376202 Soon, all the world will see what type of power they can wield…
https://youtu.be/onSK2yJZee4 what should have happened in the movie
Ugh… Have I ever said how much I hate cults? Because I really hate cults. Especially stupid cults that have no idea what they're doing! I'd say "stupid evil cults" but that feels redundant since all cults are basically evil already.
Well, here we go again…