Prologue: Same Life, New Beginnings.
One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.
-Psalms 27:4
Throughout all his years alive, if there was one thing that was a fact in Psalms life, undeniably, it was his rightful hatred for the month of December, ironic, considering it held the most sacred day. The freezing cold that threatened to bite you numb and snow that blanketed the land as far as the eye could see which, just like sand, was coarse and irritating and it just got everywhere! Add that on top of the fact that as far as the orphanage's records go, Psalms had been delivered as an infant by an anonymous couple in December, whose only recorded interaction with the orphanage keepers was a statement of absolute refusal to care for their child. That was all Psalms would come to know of his birth parents, that they had forsaken him so much to not even leave any papers of identification for the young soul. As far as anyone who cared about Psalms knew, December was his birth month.
As much as this was a rough start, things would only grow worse from here on out. Right away, the caretakers could tell that Psalms was a sickly young babe, barely ever fiddling around or crying not nearly enough for his age. He hardly ate if ever, and the times he did cry, well they just would never end. It was a miracle unto itself that Psalms managed to live beyond his infancy, considering he had the added misfortune of being placed within one of the poorest districts within New Mexico, Taos. Visits with the doctors were few and far between.
Psalms' adolescence years were no easier. His health had yet to improve one bit, leaving Psalms as a sickly, pale, haggard young lad. His appearance alone would make one think he had inherited brittle bone disease.
Psalms had no luck with making any friends during all his time in the orphanage, as all the children would avoid him like the plague, leading him to earn names such as 'Icky' or 'Boogers'. If he could not find friends, then it was all too easy for enemies to come to find him. Their bullying started with taunts but far too soon it escalated to physical attacks. Even then the beatings were only occasional, but as the years passed by, the frequency only ever increased. With so many children to take care of, the keepers could do little to assist Psalms and his bully troubles.
His sickly appearance along with the numerous bruises and scrapes that adorned his features did little to help paint a picture of an ideal child for any family to take in, which ultimately culminated with each family skipping out on the chance of adopting Psalms.
And so, days turned into weeks which grew into months that expanded beyond years. Potential adoptions numbered from one which soon turned into two and spiraled into six and Psalms stopped counting after the twentieth meeting. What a shock it was for Psalms when it was declared that he had reached his eighteenth birthday, but by then, he had all but given up hope for any family to adopt him, not that he needed one. No, by then he had long since met the only people he needed to begin a fulfilling life.
The only good thing that Psalms had to cherish in his life, was his meeting with Pastor Ian, and his loving wife, Macy. The only people to offer any care and love for Psalms, they took any chance they could to help Psalms grow and learn as education funds within the orphanage were lacking. They tutored and cared for Psalms within their local church and it was there that Psalms would be taught the word of God; his teachings, his lessons, his laws, everything, and anything that could help brighten and spiritually heal Psalm's troubled life. For the first time in his life, Psalms could say he was happy, and so when he was eventually baptized, he discarded his old names and was reborn anew as Psalms Gettenburg, which he officialized under a court of law once he had turned eighteen.
It was after he baptized that Pastor Ian would gift Psalms his one and only treasured item, a medallion of Mary cradling her infant son, Jesus. A symbol that meant far more than Psalms' faith in Christ, for it was also a promise from the pastor and his wife that Psalms would forever be welcomed into their lives, giving Psalms the one thing he had yearned for, a family.
Not too long after that, Psalms found employment as a caretaker within the very orphanage that had hosted him. Psalms knew of the pain these children would endure here, and so he pledged himself to the commitment of brightening their lives however he could, for only heaven knows these children desperately need it.
And so, for the first time in a while, Psalms had a bright outlook for the future. He finally had a loving family, a paying job that although very taxing, brought tremendous fulfillment, and all the time on Earth to make a difference not only for these poor children but perhaps even for unfortunate people across the whole world. An ambition Psalms was all too eager to see through... well, that is until life decided otherwise.
It had happened on a day no more unusual than the last. He had been sweeping the garden when it had hit him, a wave of fatigue, far stronger than anytime before. Psalms was used to such sensations before, no doubt a by-product of his sickly upbringing, and thought nothing more as he powered on through his work. Not long after, a creeping numbness afflicted his body and limbs which lead to him stumbling onto a bench nearby. Psalms tried calling out for help but only gibberish spewed from his lips like a drunken fool on a late night. Gibberish was equally heard coming from those who came to his aid, and before Psalms could comprehend anymore, his mind shut down and collapsed into what he now knew was a coma.
Three weeks later, he awoke to find himself under hospital care. As the doctors and nurses did their rounds and check-ups, they futilely probed Psalms for answers. Not even his family could bring the answers out of him, for his brain had yet to leave a mushy haze that clouded his mind, but one word, out of all the words uttered out of the doctor's mouths registered within Psalms' mind, the only word that mattered. Terminal. On the 14th of December, He had been diagnosed with a terminal case of Heart valve disease. It was caught far too late for any treatment to prevent the inevitable. Psalms was issued with only weeks left to live.
Out of all the times that a rare disease was going to come for anyone in the world right now, did it have to be him? I guess it just must be part of God's plan like the pastor always says, Psalms thought as he sighed away while laying in his hospital bed, looking out the window, watching the snowflakes trickle down from the sky.
December was without a doubt the worst month of the year in all his life, but... rather depressingly, he was thankful that this would be his last one to live through… he just wished it was under better circumstances. Just when he thought things were finally turning around, just when he was figuring his life out, a rare terminal disease had to rear its ugly head.
With another depressed sigh, he reached from under his shirt and pulled the brass medallion of Mother Mary holding her baby close, cooing it. He closed his hand around the medallion and nursed it to his chest.
Then there was a knock on the door. Must be Dr. Terrance, he thought to himself as he placed his medallion back under his shirt. "Come in." He calls from the other side of the room. When the door opened, in walked the aforementioned doctor along with Pastor Ian and Macy.
"Hey, Psalms," Ian greeted lightly, trying to sound positive. He and Macy maneuver themselves to be by Psalms' side. Ian takes a knee as he brings himself close to Psalms' face. "How are you feeling?"
The young man only sighs as his eyes linger on his new family. The news of his condition had taken a heavy toll on Ian and Macy as tear stains could be still seen on Macy's cheeks along with Ian's heavyset eyes. "I will not lie, Father... I feel terrible… knowing that you're going to die is even worse." Indeed, Psalms felt terrible for ever since the stroke, his condition had only gradually worsened. Paralysis has taken hold of his left arm and leg, multiple times already has he vomited to near unconsciousness, sleep continues to evade him, and severe chest pains continuously afflict him with ever-increasing waves and intensity leaving him a sobbing mess. No matter how many painkillers the hospital administers, the relief effects grew shorter and shorter. Psalms has reached the point that any further increases in medicine risk an overdose, and that was over three days ago.
Ian nods in agreement about the assessment with a frown. "I'm very sorry Psalms," he said, placing his hand on the boy's head, stroking it about. "Had I seen this coming earlier, we could've helped you get this treated. We could have prevented it. We could have done so much more." Remorse coated his every word as fresh tears dripped from Macy once more.
The boy just smiled in return, happy to have them present in his final hour. "It's okay. People would've just thought it was nothing anyway." He laid his head on the pillow and made himself comfortable for the coming moment. "I'm glad that God made me a part of your life and both of you for mine. But... I can't help but feel that I've been cheated, Father."
"I know, son. And I cannot help but hold the same sentiment within my heart as well. But, God does everything for a reason. Your time has come, you've done your part here on Earth. It may have been short, but it was no less impactful for all the young souls that you worked hard to bring any comfort and peace in that orphanage." Ian declares with a solid tone. Macy brings herself onto her knees as well, grasping her husband's hand as his eyes waver not from Psalms face for even a moment. "God calls for you now, the gates of Heaven await and its light beckons for you. When you see it, go forth not with fear, but with triumph and ease of mind and heart. Go forth, and take your rightful seat by his side." Pastor Ian finishes as his tears, too, flow down his cheeks, but an ever-widening smile graces his face, not faltering as the moment passes by.
Psalms can't help but hiccup a few times before sitting up from his bed and giving the both of them one last hug. No more words need to be said.
Dr. Terrance, who had settled himself to the side, carried the prepared barbiturate pill bottle in his hand. His mind was in turmoil as he continued to be present throughout all of their heartfelt interactions and could only sigh in resignation. The job of being a doctor never gets any easier… especially if it's dealing with someone so young as him. Walking to the hospital bed with a pained look on his face, Dr. Terrence forces himself to spit out his next words. "Alright, Father, it's time."
The trio holds their hug for a few moments longer before they force themselves to part, allowing Dr. Terrance to disconnect the IV drip. He looked at the young man, taking in his every feature before asking him the question no one is ever prepared for. "Are you ready?"
Psalms took a few moments of consideration but eventually held his hand out for the pill to which the doctor complied. Popping the cap off, Dr. Terrence poured the single white pill into the palm of Psalms' functional hand where the young man took several minutes to stare longingly at it. One tiny pill and it'd be all over. "So... how does this work again?"
"There won't be any pain if that is your concern. The effects usually take around fifteen to thirty minutes to fully kick in, but by then you would already be out. You'll first feel your eyes grow heavy, followed by shallow breaths and a dimming vision before finally succumbing to an unconscious state. Within the hour... you will have passed. No different than entering an anesthetic state or sleeping... are you ready?"
Nodding in confirmation, Psalms lingers back to the pill once more. The weight of his choice finally decides to bear down on him as his hand trembles terribly. It is soon stabilized by the added hands of Ian and Macy, both of which share tears and a crumbling positive facade, Macy more so than Ian. Their eyes burned with support and encouragement, whether it was for Psalms to rethink his decision or for him to go through with it, Psalms didn't know. Taking their much-needed strength, he resolves himself to his decision as he places the pill into his mouth, grabs the nearby water bottle, and downs it all in one gulp.
With the deed done, Psalms settles himself once more onto the bed, his hand still held by his family. For the next few minutes, only the occasional hiccups from Macy interrupted the silence that had settled.
Psalms could not help but reflect on the events that lead up to this moment and feel a strong sense of sadness. There was so much to do in the world, so much he could have done, so much good he could have accomplished. Not all of it was feasible but it was possible, and that alone was enough for him to have held hope for the future. A future that would not come now... but he'd be damned if he'd let the sadness linger within his final moments any longer.
Tightening his hand's grip on his family, resolute to bring peace to his soul, he settles himself to recite a prayer, one he deemed fitting for his final waking breaths.
"Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake,
I pray to God my soul to take."
Just as the Doctor depicted, Pslams eyes drooped low, but he fought to witness his family for as long as possible.
"If I should live for other days,
I pray the Lord to guide my ways,
Father, unto thee I pray,
Thou hast guarded me all day;
Safe I am while in thy sight,
Safely let me sleep tonight."
Psalms fought to recite the stanza without complication, but he could feel his tongue grow cold and his mouth falter. His next words would not be flawless, but he was confident in completing the verse.
"Bless my family, the whole world bless;
Help me to learn... helpfulness;"
His vision shrunk, replaced by a growing darkness, but still, he continued.
"...Keep me forever... in...in thy sight;"
And then, it was there. He sees it. A growing light.
"So... to all ...I.... say..."
It beckons forth. He hears his ancient name. Any fear and doubt he held before vanishes. With one final breath, he finishes the prayer.
"...Good...night..."
The blinding light beckoned him forth. Its heavenly voice and visage were far too stunning for Psalms' mind to comprehend, but drawn to it, he was, like a moth to a flame, but there was no underlying danger to be wary of. In fact, Psalms could not feel anything other than peace and tranquility. No pain, no fear, no worry, and so he continued forth. He did not know where he was or how much time had passed as he pressed forward, for such concepts did not apply within this heavenly realm.
Soon enough, the radiance of light dimmed ever so slightly as Psalms drew closer to its origin. A moment later, the outline of an object... no, a person... a woman made itself ever clearer. "Be not afraid." A voice, unlike any Psalms had ever heard, reverberated across the white void. No words could describe its majesty accurately and nothing could possibly compare, for no human ever before in the living world could have been given the opportunity to record its grace and elegance. But, Psalms was blessed to experience this moment in person.
Eventually, her blinding radiance receded fully, and Psalms was left observing an angel amongst all of man, a beauty beyond words, an elegance of which was rivaled by none. With a long silk dress of ivory and platinum, fluorescent golden holy wings, and a light halo as bright as the sun, her very image radiated nothing but divine will and power. "Dismas. Old friend. It's good to see you again. It has been so long." She articulated to Psalms, her fine voice sleek like silk and soft as fuzz.
It took a few moments for her words to register within Psalms' mind before he could find his tongue. "I...uh... no, my name is... Psalms."
A light and brief tittering chuckle escaped from her before she reigned her eyes back on Psalms once more. "Of course, Little Light. I bid thee welcome."
Psalms struggled to find the words for his questions but settled on the one foremost in his mind. "...Are you an... Angel?"
"Very. An Angel among Angels, the holiest of servants for His will, messengers and warriors for His cause. I am Archangel Sophia, and I call upon you, Little Light, to join me." She declared with the softest of smiles.
Psalms was taken aback by her last statement as confusion flooded his mind. "...I... I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Wh-where am I? Is this Heaven?"
"Forgive me for my forwardness, Little Light, for the hour draws near. You stand in the fields that lie beyond the walls of Paradise." Sophia's radiant glow dims, ever so slightly as she relays her next statement. "Heaven's gates shall remain closed unto you, but fear not, for I bring remedy."
Psalms' mind could not help but tremble with dread upon hearing her statement. Barred. I've been barred from entry into Heaven. From God's graces. How? Why? ...My last sin... suicide. Oh, what a fool I am! "My hubris... within my final moments... it damned me so?"
A solemn nod was given by Sophia. "I'm sorry, Psalms, but it has been decreed. Linger not on your sin, Little Light, for the Lord is forgiving above all else. The Kingdom of Heaven is in dire need of services, and you have been chosen to heed its call."
"Its call? Call for what?"
Instead of answering right away, Sophia raises her arms towards the ethereal sky and calls upon her powers. Within a flash, the ground shakes and quakes into fractured cracks and divots as living shadows as dark as the pits of Hell rupture forth from below. Thunder and lightning cascade above as the sky runs watery with sickening shades of red. Quavering sirens ring out from everywhere and nowhere at once as Sophia sets her sights upon Psalms once more, her booming voice only adding to the chaos. "The trumpet's horns echo across all lands. Hell's armies amass together as one. The Second Coming draws near, Psalms, and our fallen brother is not content with taking the Earth alone. Worlds across all of God's Kingdom brace themselves for the coming battle, but Heaven's warriors are finite."
Within a quick flash, the chaotic space resumes its tranquil state from before, leaving a frazzled Psalms to scurry in all directions, before looking upon Sophia once more as she ever so gently lands before him. "That is where you come in, Little Light. I have found an isolated world, deep within God's realm, that is well-tailored to your preference and knowledge, a world that shall be soon acquainted with one of Lucifer's demons. I wish to bestow upon you God's blessing of divine duty and justice to protect this land from this demon and whatever evil that threatens this world and all of its inhabitants. I offer you a second chance at life. A second chance for greater fulfillment than the last."
The young man looked back at the Angel in shock. A second chance? Archangels can do that? "I-I can have a second chance?" He asked her, to which she nods. "A-a second chance at life? But, why me? I'm no one special. I've been beaten and abused all of my life. I don't have some kind of magical powers or anything. I-I'm just… me."
Once again, a brief tittering escapes from her. "Indeed, you are you, Dismas, and it is more than I could ask for. As for why you? Well, as your fellow humans would have said, 'the Lord works in mysterious ways.' Suffice it to say that He had quite the hunch that you were perfect for this venture."
So many more questions burned within Psalms' mind. What of his family? What of Ian and Macy? Of course, it was then that he realized that all of God's children would ascend when the Rapture began. Further questions plagued him still, but as Sophia had stated earlier, time was of the essence. God himself was calling for Psalms’ service, and who was he to keep the Big Man waiting? "...Where am I going?"
With a wave of her hand, a shimmering mirror of gold morphed into existence. "A world you are well versed in. Fear not Psalms, it's virtues and people you know well. As a newly christened Crusader of Christ, go forth and maintain the peace, immerse yourself in its magic, ensure that Harmony reigns, and live the life that you dreamed of."
"...And you'll always be with me wherever I end up, right?" He asked the Archangel.
Sophia nods, "God shall never abandon his children. Wherever you go, I will always be near."
Psalms drew close to the portal but hesitated for only a brief moment. Surveyed his surroundings one final time, and plunged himself into the shimmering vortex, leaving the Archangel and the white void behind.
Sophia smiles as the portal collapses unto itself. Lowering her head in thought, she smiles once more. He has made a perfect choice. His will always be done.
"...So. My Little Light has finally returned to us, and you send him off before I could say hello or goodbye. Quite rude of you, Sophia." A male voice calls unto her in good jest.
Sophia continues to keep her eyes upon the spot where Psalms had exited from. "Worry not, old friend, you shall be acquainted again, in due time."
"...He has grown. Strong and well. In spirit and mind if not soma. It is far greater than in my time dwelling on Earth. I assume the Lord's blessing shall grant him a frame fit for his charge?"
"Spirit, mind, and body shall be made whole, in their image. It may take some time for him to properly adjust, but the blessed ones of his new home shall no doubt assist him in his endeavors." With that said, she turns to her friend and flashes him a warm smile.
"...You truly believe Psalms to be ready and worthy of this task?"
"I have faith that all shall go well. He may commit sins far greater than any during his time on Earth, but so long as he keeps the Lord in his heart, he hath nothing to fear." Sophia turns to leave as her friend calls out once more.
"And what of this demon?"
"Nothing more than his greatest trial. How Psalms will prevail, we shall see."
Pslams regretted jumping through the portal without a second thought as the moment he exited, he lost all sensations with himself and his surroundings. Stumbling and tumbling this way and that, Psalms soon enough found himself face-planting into the earth. He decided on laying in his spot for a minute or two as his head continued to spin uncontrollably, bringing him to nearly spew his guts on multiple occasions.
When his mind finally calmed from its insistent spinning, he sluggishly propped his face out of the dirt and grass and tried to focus his eyes and ears on his new environment. His vision was dark and swam wildly, leaving him to struggle to make out any nearby features. He had more luck with his ears, as the chirping of birds, running water, and the creaking sway of trees and leaves painted a picture of tranquility.
Any attempts to rub away at his eyes resulted only in pain as he could swear his hands had the texture of boney rocks, and that wasn't even mentioning how he had lost all feeling with his hands and feet. As Pslams manages to rub his eyes one last time, he is presented with an image of two, smokey black, horse hooves. Perplexing thoughts flooded through his mind as he exchanged glances from one hoof to the next, back and forth, multiple times, each time giving them an extensive examination. In the end, he eventually concluded that his mind was still foggy and his vision was, clearly, still faulty. Rubbing his eyes with his hooves once more, his vision finally cleared up, leaving him to sigh in victory.
...Wait… his hooves? He looked down at himself and once again, he couldn't believe what he sees. He was in pure shock as he looked upon his hooves once more; black hooves, connected to a black body and black legs. Several minutes afterward, Psalms' shock soon vanished, instead it was replaced by pure joy before that too was replaced with caution. No way, is all of this a dream?
Resolute on taking a more extensive look, Psalms decided on heading towards the clear pond adjacent to his position. This soon proves to be a challenge as all attempts to reach said pond left him flipping and flopping on and off the grass like a fish out of water. Once Psalms had exhaustedly reached the water's surface, the first detail he notices is his cloudy blue eyes reflecting back at him. Just above them, a mess of red and yellow curly hair lay fixated to his skull, its features bearing a resemblance to licking flames of fire. The final piece of the puzzle was next revealed as Pslams eyes adjusted to the long, spiraling horn that extended above everything else.
Casting his eyes back down, Psalms continued to examine the rest of his body. Flexing his torso from side to side, it wasn't long before he noticed something that left him startled, which in turn caused his discovery to involuntarily flare up. Bearing the colors of a rising phoenix, Pslams feathery wings flexed themselves toward the sky. They soon enough relaxed back to Psalms side, which said person slumped into a sitting position on his haunches as he processed everything.
He could feel it all, his elastic wings, his beefy legs, his rippling hide, the blood that flew through his veins, the magic that circulated within his horn, and the raw strength... he has never felt so powerful before! All his life, he was a crippled haggard sickly young man, but now? It was like night and day. And all of it was real. He couldn't believe it. He's alive again, and the best part is that he became an alicorn! This means... the very land I'm standing on, the world I've been charged to guard against all evil...I'm in Equestria... I'm in MLP!
The laughter of joy escapes from his mouth leaving him to flounder onto his back where he continued to lay, giggling hysterically and thanking God that this wasn't a dream after all! This is real!
As Psalms' antics came to a close, he found himself closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale of the forest's aromas, noting the variety of scents that smelled familiar, yet so new. He relished in Celestia's sunshine that bathed him in warmth and adored all the tranquil sounds of mother nature... until it was interrupted by echoing groans and moans which originated beyond one giant boulder that blocked the line of sight. These were not the instinctual calls and wails of sentient animals, but the whimpering tones of irritation from a sapient individual.
Psalms figured he would meet a native soul of Equestria soon enough on his own terms, but he concluded that now was a good enough time to confirm if he truly was in Equestria. His belief was fact-checked to be true as he rounded the boulder to find a dark crimson-coated, bat-pony pegasus hybrid lying on his back with his belly facing against Psalms within a smoking ditch, all four legs hitched into the air, twitching occasionally. By the looks of it, it would appear that this pony had fallen straight from the sky and only managed to slightly correct its angle, but was obviously too late to make a difference.
This must have happened just before I arrived because I didn't hear or feel the impact, granted all my senses were nulled so it also could have happened afterward and I just didn't notice, but still ... unless my arrival caused them to crash in the first place.
Whatever the case, Psalms ventured forth to prod the individual for answers. Tapping on the hind leg of the pony produced only more groans and moans. Pslams still had yet to identify whether they were male or female. "Uh... sir? Madam? ...I know this may be a stupid question... but are you alright?" The groans and moans were repeated with increased volume. Psalms *Tap-Tap-Tapped* the ponies leg again and repeated his inquiry. "Hey... you alr-"
Psalms was interrupted by the hysterical scream of the now-identified male pony as he lifted his head from off the ground, facing Psalms with delirious drooping eyes. "I ain't dead! I-I-I ain't dead you damned vultures! Stop pecking me with your spoooooonsssaaaa!" The pony scrambled off the ground and stood facing Psalms' direction, his body and legs struggled to keep him standing which resulted in him swaying uncontrollably from side to side, as if he was in the midst of an improv tap dance routine on ice. "You-you-you ain't scoo-oop-oop-ing me innards out so buzz on back to y-y-y-your beehive!"
The pony then staggard toward Pslams direction in which Psalms stood frozen in his spot, bewildered for more than one reason. The pony eventually bumped into Psalms whereupon he took great offense to his own action. "Heeeeeeeya! Back off bubba!" The pony exclaimed as he weakly slammed his side against Psalms, "I ain't got no change to my n-n-n-name! Damn Uncle Sam and his glowies took ev-ev-ev-... they took my things!"
He staggered off to the side, his legs bound to give out any moment. "Damn them...damn 'em all!" The mysterious pony's head lolls to the side before his whole body collapses back to the ground. The sound of snores soon fills the air.
Psalms continued to stare at the sleeping pony, having not moved an inch, until now. One more look, one more confirmation that what he saw was true and not a case of shared delirium with the loco in the coco pony. Rounding to the face of the pony, he saw it once more. Nestled within the black forward-facing spiked hair, A crimson horn protruded. Another Alicorn. A male Alicorn. Just like him. This pony was more than just a native equine. Uncle Sam. He said Uncle Sam. He's an American. He's human! Just like me. But, who is he? and why is he here? I thought I was guarding this world alone. Sophia did not mention another Crusader being here. Another lost soul sent by a different Angel, maybe? Back up just in case I needed it? Hitch-hiking spirit? ... Who is this stranger?
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Interesting premise! Looking forward to more.
great first chapter
Thank you for making this not many people write about Cristian beliefs or subject matter.
11426052
And more you shall recieve soon, well I hope at least.
11426067
More will be coming soon my friend. Keep this story tracked!
You know this story is going to be one of the best stories I've ever going to read I'll keep an eye out for this one for more chapters but my personal opinion you're doing great with the story I can't wait to read more
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Thank you, that means so much to us man! Definitely keep an eye out for more!
Looks good so far, I look forward to reading more.
Descriptions of the two alicorns don't seem to match up with the cover. Both seem like batpony alicorns going by their descriptions.
From the cover image, it looks like the one on the left might have been sent against his will and may not be as happy at becoming a pegacorn than the one on the right.
11426295
This is intentional, and you'll see why as this story progresses on. Also, Psalms isn't a bat-alicorn, just a regular pony alicorn.
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My mistake. I guess I overlooked 'feathery.'
It's the 'elastic' wings that got me though.
I just assume the batpony wing membrane to be more elastic.
This looks interesting. I will wait a few more chapters before reading. That, and I'm not much of a fan of the suicide/harm tag.
intresting enough, can't wait for what's next !
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Keep track on this story and expect more to come!
Very interesting! I feel that was a nice start. Hope the next chapter comes soon!
Psalms was interrupted by the hysterical scream of the now-identified male pony as he lifted his head from off the ground, facing Psalms with delirious drooping eyes. "I ain't dead! I-I-I ain't dead you damned vultures! Stop pecking me with your spoooooonsssaaaa!" The pony scrambled off the ground and stood facing Psalms' direction, his body and legs struggled to keep him standing which resulted in him swaying uncontrollably from side to side, as if he was in the midst of an improv tap dance routine on ice. "You-you-you ain't scoo-oop-oop-ing me innards out so buzz on back to y-y-y-your beehive!"
The pony then staggard toward Pslams direction in which Psalms stood frozen in his spot, bewildered for more than one reason. The pony eventually bumped into Psalms whereupon he took great offense to his own action. "Heeeeeeeya! Back off bubba!" The pony exclaimed as he weakly slammed his side against Psalms, "I ain't got no change to my n-n-n-name! Damn Uncle Sam and his glowies took ev-ev-ev-... they took my things!"
He staggered off to the side, his legs bound to give out any moment. "Damn them...damn 'em all!" The mysterious pony's head lolls to the side before his whole body collapses back to the ground. The sound of snores soon fills the air.
Psalms continued to stare at the sleeping pony, having not moved an inch, until now. One more look, one more confirmation that what he saw was true and not a case of shared delirium with the loco in the coco pony. Rounding to the face of the pony, he saw it once more. Nestled within the black forward-facing spiked hair, A crimson horn protruded. Another Alicorn. A male Alicorn. Just like him. This pony was more than just a native equine. Uncle Sam. He said Uncle Sam. He's an American. He's human! Just like me. But, who is he? and why is he here? I thought I was guarding this world alone. Sophia did not mention another Crusader being here. Another lost soul sent by a different Angel, maybe? Back up just in case I needed it? Hitch-hiking spirit? ... Who is this stranger?
()
These paragraphs have made me extremely uneasy about where this story might go. Which is a shame. Human turned pony stories have some of the best potential out of everything on this site, and many of my all time favorites have been human turned X. The more powerful the human/pony, the more extreme the consequences of their actions and thus the more conflict there is in the story. And conflict is what makes stories engaging and gripping. And far too few of them have two humans turned X in them. A extremely underutilized idea.
However forced conflict is not good. And there is one type on enforced conflict that I consider to be the worst one possible.
Character A is for all intents and purposes the manifestation of the authors political, social, religious, scientific and just simple personnel opinions. Character A will find themselves somewhere unfamiliar and foreign alongside Character B.
Character B is the exact opposite of Character A. They are the obscene and juvenile caricature of the opinions and real life people opposing that of the authors own opinions and “side”.
In each story harboring this ridiculous forced conflict that ultimately exists solely as the authors personnel echo chamber where they care create convoluted and inane situations to humiliate and “prove” their detractors wrong and show their own mental, moral and pollical superiority.
This manifests in Character A being a kind, respectful and good person/pony/whatever the character species is. Typically given a level of distrust from the natives they go along with what is asked of them are portrayed as being reasonable, level headed and honest. Winning the respect and affection of the natives and those in power.
Character B however, is a nasty, suspicious amoral lunatic who can’t be trusted. They lash out irrationally, demand those around them change to meet their standards, scoff at the thought of the law in a new place applying to them, and are portrayed as negatively as possible with the English language.
Throughout the story Character B will continually exhibit the most outlandish and extreme expression of whatever political, social, moral or religious sect they are the face off. Clashing and infuriating the natives and acting in ways more akin to a spoiled child then any realistic attempt at writing a fully fleshed plot centric character.
The natives will continually show their disgust and anger towards Character B, to which Character A will apologize for and generally martyr themselves. The natives and those in power will praise Character A’s social, political, scientific, moral or religious beliefs. Comparing them to Character B’s own and extolling the virtues of A’s while demonizing B’s.
And that’s the only conflict within the story. The story itself usually existing solely for the purpose of being a vessel for this ridiculous type of writing.
I’ve never once read a story where this example of conflict exists that could be considered even passably engaging or entertaining. Even in the rare occasions where I fully share the authors thoughts and opinions I’ve hated the story and never got much further then the second or third clash of the authors opinions and their bitter caricature of what they don’t like.
I was intrigued by the very overt Christian themes, and was enjoying it right up to his death. At which point I grew very interested as few people are willing to admit Christ decried suicide a punishable sin, let alone using it to very neatly explain how Psalms wound up in EQ. However the sentences I quoted have, as I said, made me extremely wary. As from past experience it seems to be setting up the type of conflict I’ve hopefully explained well enough to understand why I hate it so much. Even if I like the story, agree with the main characters/authors thoughts and opinions, this strawman caricature holier then Thou source of conflict is absolutely awful.