A Dying Light

by Nobrains

Chapter One

*For anyone that put up with my bullcrap over the past 2 months.

Chapter One

They say that when you stare long into the abyss, the abyss stares back into you. A bitter sentiment, but one that holds more meaning than most. Who that holds meaning to, however, is difficult to pinpoint. It was a saying a gnome Death Knight knew well enough, until the abyss was conquered, however.

His task had been complete, and he no longer found purpose in the steps that he took. His brethren had simply moved on to protecting the realm from other dangers, such as the Cataclysm that had rocked the land to its very core. He couldn't find the will, his vengeance had been so bottled up and placed in one direction that after the fall of the Lich King, he just had no reason to move on.

So he wandered. He wandered around Northrend and in places where others would simply die from cold's burning kiss. His small stature was sometimes almost completely covered by the snow that showered upon him, but he somehow continued on even when the conditions would spell death to any other gnome.

His breathe was colder than the dark plate he wore, and his eyes glowed an eery light that showed that he was once the tool of Arthas. It was reminder that no matter what he did, he would always be connected to that ugly blotch in Azeroth's history.

He had memories, but they did not seem like his anymore. A moderate tinkerer and warrior in his days back in Tinkertown, he was known for making random little gizmos that sometimes even left fellow gnomes in awe. He particular liked mechanically enhancing his weapons accordingly, in case he was ever caught in a fight.

His skill with gizmos and gadgets and adequate fighting abilities caused him to be recruited by Muradin's Explorer's League. Soon after, they began an expedition to Northrend to search for the runeblade Frostmourne.

There, they somehow met with Arthas and the soldiers he held command over. Arthas was in search of Mal'Ganis, a bitter hatred obviously evident in every action he took. If only they had all known where that hatred would take them all.

From deceit to blind rage, they defeated Mal'Ganis, but at the cost of Muradin's life (unbeknownst to any at the time that he had survived) and Arthas' humanity. He suddenly left them to fend for themselves, some even tried to follow after him.

The gnome was one that chased after the Paladin that had fallen from the Light, anything at this point seemed better than sitting alone and waiting to freeze to death along with all the others. Anything.

Unfortunately, the winds and the snow they carried were too much for the gnome as he attempted to cross the frozen wastes. His tears froze to his face as he lost sight of everything around him, the sound of his shivering breaths the last thing he heard before being buried under the snow.

When blackness gave way to a chilling light, the gnome breathed again. His memories gone and his conscious full of influence by the Lich King himself. He found himself in the dread fortress of Acherus, looming above the small Scarlet Crusade town of Havenshire.

The gnome adopted a new name: Finem, and played a critical role in the downfall of Havenshire. As the final march began upon the Light's Hope Chapel, the Death Knights fought tooth and nail against the Argent Dawn, but to no avail.

In the end, it was revealed that the Lich King was fully aware that his Death Knights would be no match for the guardians at the chapel and sent them regardless in an attempt to root out the great Tirion Fordring.

It had worked, to a point. He was able to bring Tirion Fordring before him, but that was where his success had ended. With the help of Darion Mograine's once corrupted blade: The Ashbringer, Tirion was able to fight back the Lich King and forced him to retreat, leaving the Death Knights involved at the mercy of the Argent Dawn.

Surprisingly, Tirion called for a coalition to be formed around The Silver Hand and The Argent Dawn. Darion, the feeling of betrayal and hatred strong within him called for the formation of the Knights of The Ebon Blade and their vendetta to defeat the Lich King once and for all.

After that, it was all up in the air as a full on invasion from the newly formed Argent Crusade, The Alliance and The Horde all made its way up to the roof of the world.

After a series of heroic efforts from all the parties, the Lich King had finally been slain and a new one took his place in hope of never having his dark influence upon the world of Azeroth ever again.

This was when it was the end for Finem. There was no driving force behind his steps anymore, just a cold and numb feeling. But even then, out in the wastes, he eventually grew tired of the harsh weather and climbed the walk up towards Wintergarde keep.

The town it loomed over was already beginning to be reconstructed and laughs could be heard over the chilling air for once in this broken land. He watched some of the humans and dwarfs admire their handiwork as the town began to take shape once more. The memories of the attacks from the geists were long gone it seemed.

Finem continued on, some of the people giving him a strange look as he climbed the hill leading up to the inn. He didn't care what anyone thought of him, he didn't care about them at all in the end. If anything, he loathed most, especially fellow Death Knights. Some were so cocky and ignorant in their power, it irritated him. They were suppose to beyond such thoughts, yet here they were, clinging to childish behavior.

He finally stood before the inn, the warmth would be comforting, even to him. He wasn't looking for food or anything, just a place to relax for once. Even he needed to experience a break from all the elements of the world, and just to relax in a nice calm inn.

He hopped up each step, passing a night elf who was stepping out and didn't see him. He grumbled at the lack of notice he got in this life and the last. Even with his lack of emotion, he found the way people of his stature were treated by most taller races insulting. Humans, draenei, and elves thought themselves so much better than the shorter races.

Inside there was a few tables full where townsfolk resided. It seemed that taking shelter here once caused them to linger and favor this inn rather than the one in the town below. Whatever, it didn't matter. He just needed his own chair at his own table and he would be happy.

He walked past the crackling fireplace on his way to an open table near the back of the inn, lingering for a bit near the fire, its warmth always causing a strange tingling across his skin that he found fascinating.

After he found the table, he pulled the chair out and looked down at the wooden floor below him. He sighed, pulled the sword from his back, hopped into his chair and absentmindedly threw the sword down where it landed with a 'thunk!” in the wooden floor.

That patrons at the other tables gave him a queer look before returning to their own conversations, finding it best not to have their eyes linger upon the Death Knight. Even better, at least the people here knew better than to bother one of his kind.

Eventually though, a barmaid came by and nearly tripped over the sword that had been planted into the wood. She looked down at the blade and then to the gnome who was sitting at the table, drumming his three fingers across the surface.

She was a human, a younger looking one from inspection. She didn't seem too happy with what the Death Knight had done and scowled at the gnome. He simply paid her no mind, finding it easier just to ignore her then look into what was really bothering her (as if he didn't already know.)

“Excuse me,” she asked after a moment. “Is there a problem here?”

He sighed, confrontation unavoidable now. “No, there's no problem at all. Did you need something, human?”

Her face scrunched up in offense, she was obviously only getting more and more displeased with him by the moment. How pathetic, what was she expecting to do with him? He could crush her or worse in less than a second.

She turned and stomped off then, probably going to talk with the proprietor of the inn. Let them come then, there was nothing they could do to him. The living were always so snotty and rude when it came down to his presence. All he dealt with was prejudice.

Sure enough, she was back with a burly looking gentlemen. A mustache adorned his face and his apron was covered in dried blood. Oh boy, looks like things might just escalate quickly. He had no intention of injuring the two, but if it came to conflict, then it might be necessary.

“My daughter here says there might be a problem here.” He spoke gruffly. “I don't like problems.”

“Oh, I can assure you there's no problem here. If you would be so kind as to leave me be?” Finem spat back. Nobody was going to move him, no matter what. He answered to no one.

“It appears that the problem might be with you. If I could make a suggestion? Perhaps you should leave? And take your sword out of my damned floor.”

“I don't think I'll be doing that. I suggest you leave my presence and think about the agony you have been spared.”

The man frowned, his brow furrowing. He wasn't going to take this from some little gnome! “Now you listen here! I could break you in a-”

He suddenly felt a strange force wrap around his neck and he was brought down to eye level with the gnome and his helmet. “You've mistaken one thing human: I don't play petty games of words. If you really wish to die, I could snap your neck with my dark energies alone. So, I'll give you one more chance to walk away.” A single breath of cold air come out from the gnome's covered mouth. “But just in case you wish to linger longer, I'll give you the right incentive to get the idea.”

The burly man was flying across the room before he could retort. He hit the wall rather hard, but nothing enough to cause injury. Some of the patrons quickly shuffled out after that, fear gripping them. The wounds left in their conscious by the Lich King were still very well there it seemed.

The girl screamed and ran over to her father who was groaning against the wall. She looked back at the gnome who was still sitting on the chair, returning to his original posture and drumming his fingers.

“You-you monster! You may not be of that accursed Lich King anymore, but evil still lives in you!”

Finem was beginning to grow weary of all these words being spoken in his direction. He came here to relax in a shelter without any distractions, not to be scolded. He got up, pulling his sword out of the floor, and made his way to the exit. Maybe in the next Alliance town, there wouldn't be inconsiderate and idiotic folks. Who was he kidding? There was no hope of a day of relaxation at this point.

He stepped out and immediately saw the people that had left the inn scurrying back down to the town below. He decided to take the opposite way out and go through the front gates of Wintergarde, heading down a slope near the Bronze Dragonshrine.

Sure enough, as soon as he made his way out into the thick of the icy wasteland, the snowy and chilled winds returned to bombard him. He couldn't die in such things anymore like he had previous, but he still found a particular hatred for the elements.

As the Wyrmrest Temple could be seen over in the distance, Finem drudged on, passing by desecrated bones of dead dragons and other creatures that had been caught out in the ice and had not found the resilience to resist cold's grasp.

Was this going to go on forever? It may have already, he wasn't sure exactly how long he had been doing this since the defeat of Arthas. Whatever the case, he didn't care at all. He didn't care about anything, not even himself.

His feet carried into the snow, almost leading up to his waste at one point. This wasn't getting anything any better than it had been. In the next town he was just going to just experience the same bigotry as the previous town, and the one before that.

Then he did something completely unexpected, even to himself. He simply stopped, and looked around for once. After looking around, he sat in the snow hanging his head low. Perhaps out here, all would be pleasant and conflict free? One could never know. He laid back in the snow, something inside him breaking.

******************

Betrayal. Betrayal can take many forms, such as a harmless lie to protect oneself and blame a fellow comrade, or a knife slitting the throat of a friend out of greed and deceit. Betrayal is a thing everyone, even the betrayers, fear at some point when they are amongst people they can trust.

It tears into your heart both literally and emotionally as you see your loved one discard you so easily and have no remorse, but what hurts the most is realizing you made the wrong choice. You placed your trust in the wrong one, the wrong friend.

In the depths of an underground series of ruins, two unicorns were struggling for dominance. One was fighting for greed and power, the other for his life and the preservation of what he vowed to protect.

Spells collided, splintering off and crashing into walls. Lights flashed on off from their horns as they battled it out, neither giving an inch of ground. One had a smirk upon his face, the other fighting against tears. For he had just experienced the worst betrayal of them all, more than just a personal one, but a betrayal to all that believed in them both.

“Why are you doing this?! How could you do this?!” He called out, the tears trailing down his face as he fired another ward spell from his horn to counter the fiery barrage that his once friend was laying down upon him.

“I told you, Starswirl! I am simply taking what we both deserved! But you still feel obligated to serve those that would forget you and throw you away without a single thought in their mind!”

“How can you be so ignorant, Polaris?! We had a duty! It was far beyond any promises that were made to us on that day!” Starswirl gritted his teeth, his long white hair blowing out in strands behind him after his hat had flown back into the unknown. His long beard was blowing against his chest as another iced wind spell attempted to shred him.

He couldn't attack back, he could only defend. He couldn't find the heart to hurt Polaris, his fellow guardian of the starstones. It had finally happened, he had lost his patience. He should have understood on the day they had been tasked with guarding the starstones for all eternity. They broke all ties to their past lives in exchange for immortality, eventually being forgotten about and thought deceased.

Polaris had always been a good friend of Starswirl's even before they had been tasked together. Hundreds of years ago, they had both been quite the up and coming sorcerers, at first a rivalry between them, but an everlasting friendship had taken it's place.

That's what made this hurt the worst, such anger had been bottled up inside of Polaris and Starswirl had been too ignorant to not see this coming. Why he thought they would truly be rewarded what they were promised all those years ago was beyond Starswirl. He had thought it was pretty obvious they wouldn't be remembered this far out since then.

Starswirl was suddenly knocked off his hooves and landed against a crumbling wall. Polaris trotted up slowly, cackling. His eyes were dark with anger and hatred. He gave Starswirl a single look and scoffed, leaving him to lie there, battered and bruised.

“What do you hope to gain from this?” Starswirl called out to him.

“Perhaps a champion? With these stones, I can reach my hooves into any realm, overpower anything. You're a fool not to take this opportunity. I thought we were together on this.”

“What?” Starswirl coughed. “You thought I would actually help you with this? Are you mad?!”

“Perhaps a little..” Polaris laughed. “It doesn't matter, though. A madpony can easily do what others won't.. like this.”

He trotted over towards five stands, each one housing a stone with a single rune marked upon it's surface. The stand were laid out in a circular pattern and Polaris moved in between them, a sadistic grin covering his face.

Starswirl knew what he was doing, and struggled to get up. He found that he was incapable of dragging himself up off the stone floor, however. He could do nothing to stop what Polaris was planning. But he had to keep talking.. delaying him, anything.

“Where would you find a champion? Why would you want one from another world?”

“Because, I've seen what a certain otherworldly denizen has done in this world. Why risk failure when I could simply go for the tried and true method that a certain princess has done?”

Realization crept over Starswirl. “You mean to find another from the Beacon's world?! What do you expect to do if you find one?!”

“Quite simple, actually. I will get the recognition we... I deserved. I will take what we were promised as my own.” His grin turned to a frown as he looked Starswirl over upon the ground. “I will give you one more chance, Starswirl, for we were close friends before all this began. Join me, we can get the recognition we were promised. We can live like deities!”

“You're insane!” Starswirl spat back. “You've let this greed and impertinence corrupt you! Don't shatter and tear the fabrics of our world with the stones!”

“Oh, but Starswirl..” Polaris said with bane. “This world has already been damaged beyond repair.”

With that, Polaris' horn began to glow a red light and the stones on the stands surrounding him mimicked the color. A humming began to wash over the chamber, getting more and more audible as the magic from the stones built up.

Eventually the chamber was rumbling violently, and Starswirl could feel himself bouncing on and off the ground lightly as he watched Polaris tear apart the fabrics of the world to reach into another.

“There was a reason we guarded those stones...” Starswirl choked out. There was, these stones rivaled the magics of gods themselves. Able to tear apart anything and everything with ease and not draining the caster of energy at all. Such stones should never be used, or the very world could be in danger. But it was happening. It was too late.

The light from Polaris' horn soon chained together with the light emanating from the stones upon the stands and streaming forth, burning through the very air itself. Eventually, the air began to tear itself apart and in its place was a red portal, static electricity crossing over its surface.

Polaris looked back at Starswirl who's face was that of horror and awe. He gave one last devious grin and began to step through the portal while the chamber around them seemed to be falling apart.

He had failed. The starstones' powers were being abused by the very one that had sworn to prevent it.

****************

Everything was so much more simple when you stopped and let the world go by. Finem wasn't sure how long he had laid in the snow, and he wasn't sure he was ever going to get back up. Why should he anyways? Nothing was waiting for him and he wasn't waiting for anything. Here, he could contemplate in the one place that had delivered him death once, but now offered a sense of solace.

His cold and unneeded breath left his mouth under the helmet and blew away, mixing with the chilling winds that brought more snow on top of him. Forgotten, both by the world and the people on it, what a thought to ponder. Did he even want to be remembered? Maybe when he was alive, but as this thing he had become? He didn't care actually, he wanted to forget the world more than he wanted to be forgotten by it.

“Well, I must say, my luck is rather on the upside lately.”

Finem sat up, snow falling off the sides of his dark plate mail and back. Someone else was out here in the frozen wastes with him. He pushed himself up and brought forth his blade, prepared for conflict, for that was the way any encounter ended for him these days.

“Tenacious too; I think I may have my champion.”

“Show yourself if you are going to speak of me in such ways.” The gnome called out, his glowing eyes darting from side to side.

“In a second, you short little biped, you. The diversity in this world is quite more avid then in Equestria it seems. Not just populated with the Beacon's race...”

“I do not take kindly to others referring to my height.” Finem's patience was certainly being tested with this individual. It seemed as if they were asking to be turned into a fleshy pulp.

Suddenly, strands of red energy wrapped around the gnome's wrists and legs pulling him off the ground. He struggled and broke from them easily, now truly angry.

“Oh, you seem to far more powerful than I first thought. Nothing simple like those tendrils will subdue you it seems. Very well, I suppose you've earned the right to see me as I am.

Finally. Now he could punish whoever thought they could incapacitate him. He made sure his runeblade was ready and shifted the handle to a single hand. If all went well, this could end in a few seconds.

A blizzard suddenly began to dim his vision, causing everything even remotely near to disappear into the whiteout. Whatever, this wasn't going to cause him to waver; he was made to feel nothing so... hindering as fear.

Suddenly the blizzard died almost as soon as it had come. Standing before the Death Knight was something that almost made him react. Almost.

Before him was a miniature horse, like the one's humans used as mounts. Except this one seemed to be more accessible to his kind than any other and it almost made him want to spit some hurtful remark out towards the beast for being so pathetic to look at.

The miniature horse had a dark fur, much like the deathcharger he had ridden at one point long ago. But what really set this as a strange sight was the fact that the horse was clad in red robes and had a sadistic smile upon his face.

Yet another race that the world had seemed to have forgotten, Finem thought bitterly. At least it wasn't as laughable as what else they would find in the world eventually. No one could expect where the meaningless conflict between the Alliance and Horde would take them next.

“Never seen anything like me, have you?” The horse said, moving ever so closer, his hooves digging deep into the snow. “Let me assure you, you haven't seen anything yet.”

That was it, that was all he needed as initiative to engage this talking miniature horse. He reached his hand out, a dark essence extending from it and quickly wrapping around the beast's neck. The horse let out a surprised yelp, meaning that Finem had done just as he wanted.

This was almost going to be too easy. He pull the creature back to him, slamming it against the snow and ground before him. The blizzard was beginning to pick up once again and it would soon just be them surrounded by a blinding veil.

The horse pulled his snout out of the snow, cackling madly like a mad gnome engineer. What was this beast getting a kick out of after being abused so? Finem slammed a booted foot into the miniature horses side, causing him to cry out in pain for just a second, but returning back to his laughing soon after.

“Are you suicidal or something of the like, beast?” Finem asked the seemingly defeated equestrian.

“Quite the opposite, actually.” The beast coughed out, blood beginning to form on his lips.

Finem pulled the miniature horse by the collar of his robe and brought him up to his eye height, which happened to be only a slight raise in altitude. “Then you are an imbecile for pestering me so with your snark comments and that pathetic attempt at subduing me.”

The horse spat blood onto his horned helmet suddenly, but found that the rude gesture had caused no reaction in the gnome at all. Finem shook the horse once in his grip and then threw him back several feet.

“Yes. Yes, you'll do just fine.” The beast began to stand up, bringing a hoof up and wiping the blood from his mouth. “The perfect find...”

“You speak as if you still think yourself better.” The Death Knight was growing more and more tired with the tussle and was beginning to think of ways to end this. He took a step towards the horse and reached forth a single hand.

The beast gasped again as chains of ice wrapped around his hooves. He struggled to move but nearly fell over himself with the convulsions.

“You don't know what I am capable of!” The beast cried out, suddenly frustrated.

“A lot less than I am, it seems.” Finem was right in front of him now, looking slightly up at the struggling horse. He noticed something off though, this horse had a horn. What the..

Suddenly the horn glowed red the gnome found agony coursing through his entire body. What kind of trickery is this? His pain threshold was beyond the simple attacks of magic. So why was he having such a negative reaction to all of this?

He collapsed to the ground, his muscles spasms and cramps causing him to lose control momentarily. The snow around him suddenly began to melt, revealing an iced ground but not going any farther.

The Death Knight tried to overpower the magic around him by attempting to form a anti-magic shell around him but found that his body was lacking any strength to do what he wanted. This was not going to be sitting well with him after he recovered, but for now he couldn't move at all.

The horse looked down at his glowing eyes still obscured under the horned helmet. A smirk on his face and his eyes looking him over. The horn beneath the mane began to glow once again and Finem was in the air, the sound of something magical ringing through his ears and in the peripheral of his vision, what appeared to be a red portal began to form.

“I'm sure you may find this as a spot of bad luck...” The horse laughed, “but the way I see it, you'll simply be finding purpose in your life once again.”

Comments

[Bazing]

DEATH KNIGHTS!!!!!!