Chapter 11: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part I: The Morning After
The Book of Water: The Marriage of the Slave King
A Story by TalonMach5
Chapter 11: For Whom the Bell Tolls: Part I: The Morning After
Friend, have you ever heard the parable of the greedy victor? I heard it spoken once from a wayfarer I met in the south. He recounted something he’d seen with his own eyes. Nearly a century after the Slave King first sat upon his great stone throne, and took up his iron crown, a unicorn named Noble Justice sought to free all the ponies held in bondage by the Lord of Earth.
It was a long and bloody struggle, between Noble Justice’s liberators and the Slave King’s monstrous army and doomhounds. It was said that even the mighty Scourge himself, struggled in vain against the unicorn’s skill and bravery. Their final battle lasted a night and a day, inside the Slave King’s own palace. Until finally, the Lord of Earth looked down at the mortals warring inside his home. He had until that moment, been content to allow the battle to rage at the foot of his throne, while he remained quiet and unmoving.
But then, for some unknown reason he stood up. “Enough!” he shouted, his voice shaking the earth down to its very core. Everypony present, looked up at him with awe and fear in their eyes. Rising from his throne, he looked down at his diamond dog defenders and the ponies who’d invaded his domain. Wading through the carnage of battle, he approached where the battle had been at its thickest. Standing before Noble Justice, he looked down at the unicorn who glared at him with fiery defiant eyes. Saying nothing, the Slave King held out his palms in defeat, before returning to his throne. For he realized that for all his wealth and power, he couldn’t resist such a determined foe.
Noble Justice stared in disbelief when the Slave King returned to his throne in defeat. He hadn’t anticipated his enemy surrendering so quickly. Emboldened by the Slave King’s lack of resolve, he shook his hoof angrily at him, denouncing his wicked cruelty and the excesses of his reign for nearly an hour. It was said that when he was confronted with these accusations, he remained silent, refusing to defend himself. Instead, he waited patiently for his accuser to finish his tirade. When the unicorn had finally ran out of steam, he looked expectantly at the Slave King.
“Well?” he demanded, fully expecting the Lord of Earth to justify the enslavement of his kinsfolk.
However, much to everypony’s surprise, the Slave King only said, “What are your terms?”
To say that Noble Justice was surprised, would be an understatement. When he realized that he could get carte blanche, any concession he wanted, he smiled in triumph. To think that he, a mortal pony had managed to do what the gods had failed, it filled his heart with righteous pride. He thought of the multitudes of ponies and others forced to do the Slave King’s bidding, and demanded the release of every last slave toiling under the cruel bite of his whips.
When he heard the demand, he narrowed his eyes in displeasure, but complied. With a small gesture of his hand, he released tens of thousands of slaves to their freedom.
However, Noble Justice wasn’t yet satisfied. He wanted recompense for Equestria’s stolen citizens. He demanded ten million bits in compensation. The Slave King frowned, before nodding his assent. Pounding his fist against his stone hewn throne, a mountain of bits burst forth at Noble Justice’s hooves. Seeing such vast wealth, the pony smiled. However, his soul was troubled when he saw how much power such a monstrous creature possessed, and knew he needed to make one last demand. Looking up at the Slave King, he said, “Somepony like you is not fit to rule. You must give up your crown to somepony more worthy.”
When he heard the unicorn’s final demand, the Slave King’s eyes burned with bale fire. Glaring wrathfully at the pony at his feet, he removed his crown from his head and spoke, “Little pony, had you not asked for my crown I would have given you all your demands with my blessing. But because of your greed, instead of a blessing, you shall receive naught but a curse. Those who were my slaves are free to go, but they shall find neither water nor sustenance as you shepherd them across the breadth of my realm. As for your recompense, you shall carry its entirety upon your back. Then, and only then, will I give up what’s mine.”
Before Noble Justice could utter a response, the earth swallowed him and the mountain of bits whole, spitting him out deep in the desolate wastelands. Looking up at the bits, he screamed in terror as the mountain fell upon him, burying him alive. Suffice it to say, that very few made the trek across the desolate wastes of the Domain of Earth that day. Most choosing to continue serving the Slave King instead. It’s said, deep in the heart of the southern desert, a mountain of gold stands. Should you ever come across it, remember the lesson that Noble Justice failed to learn, only take as much as you carry, and quit while you’re still ahead.
-Stormbreak, Seapony Harper, Tales of a Wandering Seapony vol. ix
His flesh burned and his blood boiled. Had he been suffering something as pedestrian as physical pain, he might have suffered through it in silence. However, the trauma he was experiencing was something entirely more terrible. It was once again time, and all his instincts cried out for him to heed the siren song of creation, to embrace it as his fellow deities of the Pantheon did. He growled in defiance. Though nature might conspire against him, and demand that he give in, he would not yield. One day he might break, but today was not that day. For he feared losing that which was most precious to him.
All around him, he could feel them stirring awake. For most, the previous night’s activities were met with fondness, regret, or in the case of some, horror at what had transpired. Some silently agreed to never speak of their encounters again, while still others threatened each other with threats of violence over the results of their drunken debauchery. However, some decided to continue their encounters, and it was these affectionate paramours that were causing him such discomfort. It was at this point, that he was regretting last night’s decision to rebuff those who’d pursued him.
His head throbbed and his bones ached. He knew it was his lot to suffer the indignities of his rebellious flesh, until he found release for the pressure building inside him. Rising from his bed, he reached for the wrought iron crown resting on the nightstand next to it. Holding it in his hand, he felt it’s cool pitted surface beneath his fingers. The crown, was quite literally the first thing he’d made as the Lord of Earth. Though over five hundred years old, its surface remained untarnished by either rust or time. Closing his eyes, he placed it over his head. It was times like this, that he was grateful for its design. He felt comforted, as the iron crown covered his face, somehow protecting him from having to face himself.
Opening his eyes, they flared, as the earthen magic coursing through him sought release. Spying the clothes from yesterday laid out neatly on a nearby table, he shook his head in disbelief. Had he actually worn such gaudy things? The idea seemed so alien to him, yet part of him yearned for the touch of the soft satins and smooth silks against his scarred flesh. Ignoring his new found desire, he reached for his familiar well-worn tunic and pants. Though originally the fabric was quite rough, years of wear had worn the hardy fabric smooth and even threadbare in places. Struggling against himself, he’d often found wearing such familiar things, brought him a small piece of comfort and a sense of order to his chaotic worlds. Even now, he could feel the intimacy of what some of his more frisky guests were engaging in, and found the feelings and desires that were welling up inside him, discomfiting.
Looking down at his wrists, he groaned as he saw the dozens of spirit linked chains that kept him a prisoner in his own domain. Though he now possessed a small amount of freedom, he was still barred from a majority of Equestria, due to the banishment that the Pantheon had seen fit to bestow upon him. Looking towards his wardrobe, he saw Darkpaw’s pelt hanging, waiting for him to don it as a second skin. Though his decision to wear it, was seen as ghastly and macabre to some. He found it fitting to wear his predecessor in this way. Though Lord Darkpaw might be in the Summerlands now. In some small way, he was able to live vicariously through him.
Holding up the cloak, he welcomed it like an old friend. Breathing in deeply, he caught the scents of those who pursued him, and began burning anew. Donning his cloak, he placed its heavy paws over his shoulders, and attached its clasps to hold it firmly in place. Next, he drew its hood over his head, covering his face in shadow. Only his brightly burning green eyes and flowing beard, could be seen beneath the hound’s head that covered him. Resting his bare feet against the thick carpet of his room, he wiggled his toes, as he reconnected with the Earth, the fount of his power. Sighing with exhaustion as the song of creation flowed through him, he looked expectantly for her.
Lady Nightmare, his first creation, was closer to him than his own shadow. She was his constant companion, and he found it somewhat odd that she hadn’t yet presented herself to him. Then he remembered last night’s fight between herself and Princess Luna. He’d banished her to ruins of the Diamond Vale for a week for abusing his guest so. Though his anger over the altercation was great, he found her absence disconcerting. As a creature of habit, he’d come to rely on the familiar to see him through these turbulent times. Now that she was nowhere to be found, he discovered how much he’d relied on her for stability, when his body threatened betraying him to its base desires.
Hoping to somewhat sate the ravenous hunger and quench the fiery inferno that burned within him, he placed his hand on one of the nearby rune stones adorning the walls of his bed chamber.
I require sustenance, he spoke through the stone, making his wants known to his cupbearer.
Minutes later, a reindeer covered in fur whiter than freshly fallen snow and a diamond dog bitch with a silken coat entered his chambers, carrying his cup and a large bottle filled with a sparkling green liquid.
“We, your humble servants have answered your call,” the bitch said, giving him a sultry look. “Perhaps, if you desire more than mere sustenance my king, might I offer myself to service your needs?”
“Cut it out, Chrysalis!” the reindeer admonished, giving her a steely look. “The Slave King only desires his breakfast, nothing more.”
“Gunhilde,” Chrysalis said, giving her keeper a sly look. “I’m simply trying to anticipate our liege’s needs. He just completed his renewal, and his chambers show he spent the night alone. He’s obviously in need of relief…”
“That won’t be necessary, Chrysalis,” he said, raising his hand as he interrupted her. “I simply desire some of my draught.”
“Of course, Slave King,” Gunhilde said, offering him his half-filled cup with her magic.
Grabbing the cup from her magical grasp, he drained its contents and held out the cup expectantly. “I require another,” he impatiently said.
Surprised at his behavior, she tried filling his cup once more. Trembling under her master’s burning gaze, she flinched when the Slave King snatched the bottle and upended it in his mouth, draining it contents within seconds.
“I need more,” he said, trying to get the few remaining drops of the draught from the now empty bottle. “When she didn’t move, he scowled at her. “Why are you still standing there? Get me more!”
Frightened by his outburst, the doe dropped his cup and ran to retrieve more bottles of his draught. Leaving the Slave King and Chrysalis alone together.
Picking up the cup, she offered it to him. “It still has a bit inside, if you care to lick the bottom of your cup,” she said, offering him a teasing smile.
“I’m in no mood for antics,” he growled, burning with lust and desperate for more of the one thing that could offer him a respite from the madness that was threatening to overwhelm him. “It’s a dangerous game you play. I know what transpired between you and Nightmare yesterday. Are you to blame for her aggressiveness?”
“I find that the most dangerous games, often have the greatest rewards,” she replied, stepping closer towards him and releasing the pheromones she used to harvest emotions. “But as for your other servants, I can’t be expected to be held responsible for their actions.”
He could taste the burning lust now, and grimaced. Looking at her, he narrowed his eyes in annoyance, fully aware of what she was trying to do. “Most would have sense enough not to provoke the one who holds your fate in his hands,” he said, trying his best to ignore her increasingly attractive, lust filled eyes, and shapely flanks.
“But I’m not like most others,” she said, offering her liege a slight smile. “You knew that when you made me yours. It’s why you extended your offer of service to me.”
When he heard her retort, he wanted to laugh, she had him pegged. “You speak truthfully,” he replied, drawing close to her. “But always remember who the master is here.”
“Ye… yes, of course, Slave King,” she replied, wincing in pain when she felt her brand heating up slightly.
“Good, Chrysalis,” he said, running his fingers through her fur and scratching her behind the ears. “I see Gunhilde has returned with more of my draught.”
"I’m sorry it took so long, Slave King,” she said, lowering her antlers apologetically. Gesturing towards the heavy box holding at least twenty large bottles of his draught, she levitated one towards him. “I didn’t know how much you required.”
When he saw the great crate, he smiled, his suffering temporarily forgotten. “I think that will do quite nicely,” he said, removing the bottle’s stopper with his teeth, and taking a great swig from the bottle in his hand. “Now who wants to go wake up Lady Harmony for me?”
When he saw their unsure faces, he laughed as he gestured for them to follow him out of his bed chamber.
*****
His bed felt wonderfully warm, like the one he’d left behind in the Golden Eyrie. He heard someone entering the room, and groaned. He didn’t want to get up, not yet. He felt a soft hand gently shaking him awake. Drawing his blanket tightly around himself, he rolled over, trying his best to ignore whoever it was that meant to rouse him from his slumber.
“Wake up, Dawson,” a voice said, drawing him back to the waking world.
“Ugh, fine. I’m up, I’m up,” he groaned, while sitting up in the soft bed. Looking around, he found himself in an unfamiliar room. Looking towards the one who’d woke him, he saw Melody smiling cheerfully down at him.
“Have any sweet dreams, little brother?” she asked, giving him a slight smile while offering him a cup containing a steaming dark brown beverage.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he groggily accepted the offered drink. Deeply inhaling its rich aromatic scent, his pupils dilated as he felt himself awaken fully. “So, Melody, what’s this?” he asked, taking a small sip of the potent drink. “It’s not like any tea I’ve ever tasted.”
“It’s a drink from the Zebrakan,” she explained, while waiting for him to finish it. “The zebras call it kaffa, while Harmony calls it the only thing that keeps her sane in the mornings. All I know, is that it’s strong enough to wake the dead.”
“So, how did I get here?” he asked, looking around the unfamiliar room while finishing his cup of kaffa. “The last thing I remember was sitting beside my mother at dinner last night.”
Melody gave him a sly grin, before leaning towards him conspiratorially. “King daddy, asked me to look out for you,” she said, taking back the empty cup. “Last night, you and Dame Squall were getting pretty chummy. I don’t think either of you are quite ready for the splish splash of little fins, or would that be the flapping of tiny wings?”
“What!” Dawson shouted in alarm. Wracking his mind, he tried remembering the best he could. Exactly what had he done with her last night? “How far did we go?”
“I’m sorry, Dawson. My lips are sealed,” she replied, placing a finger against her pursed lips. “Dame Squall made me promise not to say anything, after I pulled you two apart. Apparently, when she managed to regain her senses, she felt mortified about almost taking advantage of you in your inebriated state.”
When he heard her describing the situation, his mind instantly returned to the kiss they’d shared back at Bone’s Landing. Though her soft lips had tasted a bit salty from their earlier strenuous battle, and her breath had carried a hint of the ale she’d been drinking, she’d kissed him with a passion that made him feel an unfamiliar hunger as he reminisced what had transpired between them. He wondered if her lips were as soft last night, as he desperately tried remembering what had happened between them.
“So what happened last night?” he asked, feeling a bit flushed as he wondered what it would have been like, waking up besides the beautiful chevaleresse.
When she saw his cheeks taking on a slightly darker hue, she smiled. “Is that the pining for what if, that I see across your beak, Dawson?” she teased, giving him a cheeky grin.
He said nothing, instead giving her a hard look as he reached for his belt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Melody,” he sourly replied, not enjoying the ribbing she was giving him.
“Oh, don’t be such a pony,” she said, giving him an affectionate hug as she ruffled the feathers on his head. “Besides, is that anyway to speak to the feather that shared their bed with you?”
“Stop teasing me, Melody!” he growled, feeling slightly embarrassed by the revelation. “I don’t like it.”
“Don’t worry, nothing improper happened,” she replied, giving him another hug before releasing him from the vice like grip of her arms. Giving him a sly smile, she drew close to his face. “Unless you were hoping something did happen, Dawson. In which case, I’ll let you use your imagination.”
Annoyed by her relentless teasing, he balled his talons into fists and ground his teeth in aggravation. “Damn it, Melody!” he shouted, blushing furiously at what his imagination was showing him.
Releasing a hearty laugh, she pulled him out of her room. “Come on, lover boy, time to go get some breakfast!” she teased.
“Argh!” he seethed, grumbling as he followed her into the kitchen.
“Oh, pancakes! My favorite,” Harmony happily chirped, placing a large stack of flapjacks onto her plate.
Reluctantly, Dawson followed after her, filing his plate up with some pancakes along with a bowl of cherries. Stepping out into the dining hall, he was surprised by the number of deities that were still sleeping off the effects of the previous night’s drunken revelry. Looking at the far side of the dining hall, he noticed five of Lord Triton’s chevaleresse nursing their hangovers as they quietly chatted amongst themselves. Each was a beauty in their own right, and wore armor that showed off their soft curves as they floated along in the magic bubbles that held them aloft. Looking to his left, he saw Melody grinning at him and decided to focus on his meal. Returning to his breakfast, he dug his fork into the pancakes with zeal as he tried ignoring her continual teasing.
“Oh, Dawson,” she whispered to him. “Whatever you do, don’t look up.”
“Why?” he asked, looking towards her, before wishing he hadn’t. He saw Dame Squall floating past them to join her fellow chevaleresse for breakfast. Seeing her flowing purple mane, and the shining scales on her pale green skin made him loose his appetite, as he thought about what Melody had told him earlier.
“Why don’t you go talk to her?” Melody suggested, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Maybe she feels the same way.”
“What are you talking about?” Dawson said, looking away from Dame Squall and trying his best to avoid Melody’s forceful gaze. Knowing she wouldn’t let up, he returned to his breakfast and began eating it as quickly as possible.
“Oh you know…” she replied, allowing her words to trail off as she suggestively raised her eyebrows.
“By the Pit, Melody,” he murmured under his breath. Dropping his fork onto his plate, he stood up, and shot her a dirty look, before heading over towards Dame Squall to talk with her.
When she saw he was going to go talk to her, Melody dreamily sighed, silently wishing somefeather would feel the same way about her.
Approaching the chevaleresse’s table, he felt his heart race, as his mouth went dry. He had no idea why he was doing this, and felt the cold grasp fear in his gut as he approached them. Walking forward, he looked around and saw that most of the guests were still under the effects of the Slave King’s wine. Some of them were of races he’d never have thought would willingly seek each other out. Looking at Dame Squall’s fins and scales, he considered his own feathered wings and beak. He wondered if such a union was a good idea, let alone even feasible, but when he caught the scent of her perfume, all those thoughts were banished.
He was now within spitting distance of her, and wondered what she would say to him. Once he’d reached her table, one of other chevaleresse looked at Dame Squall mischievously, before giving him her full attention. “What does the son of Lady Zephyr want with the humble servants of Lord Triton?” she asked, looking up at him expectantly with her searching ice blue eyes.
He wasn’t sure what he should say, he knew he wanted to spend more time with Dame Squall, but wasn’t sure how to voice his desires. He wished he was more eloquent, so as not to appear the fool, but as he wracked his mind, he didn’t know quite what to say to her.
When she saw that he wasn’t answering her immediately, she turned to her fellow chevaleresse. “Sisters, it appears that Dame Squall has cast quite a wide net,” she said, releasing a musical laugh. “Managing to catch clods of dirt all the way from Bone’s Landing, is quite a feat indeed.”
When she heard the barb, Dame Squall’s face flushed with embarrassment, as she pursed her lips angrily. “Dame Calm Breeze,” she replied, her voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. “Perhaps were you to tend to your own nets, you might catch more than flotsam and jetsam.”
Dame Calm Breeze huffed once when she heard her retort, before regaining her composure. “Be that as it may,” she coolly replied, as the other chevaleresse looked at them in amusement. “But the refuse of the sea holds more worth then all the tarnished treasures of the earth.”
Dame Squall dropped her utensil, and opened her mouth to say something before Dawson interrupted her. “I was…” he said, trying his best not to stumble over his words. “Well that is, Dame Squall, Melody and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for breakfast.”
When she heard his request, she inwardly groaned when she thought about they had almost done last night. Looking over at her fellow knights, she saw they looked at him with a mixture of desire at his comeliness, and revulsion at his ancestry. Though it might be enjoyable to share breakfast with them, she didn’t want it rumored that she was courting a mudslinger. “I’m going to have to say…” she said, before Dame Calm Breeze snickered at her.
“Dame Squall, enjoy your meal together,” she replied. “Don’t forget to wash the dirt from your fins once you’ve had your fun with him.”
“Let’s go, Dawson,” she deadpanned, picking up her plate and giving Dame Calm Breeze a venomous look.
“When you get back, sister, tell us how much you enjoyed rolling about in the mud!” she called out after them, as the other chevaleresse chuckled at her barb.
“Perhaps, if you’re all so curious to find out,” Dawson said, pointing towards the far side of the room. In the corner, Lady Minoa was holding Lord Triton tightly in her arms, as they peacefully slept together. “You can ask your liege how he enjoyed his roll in the mud with the Lady of Spring.”
When they heard his retort, they said nothing. Instead they returned to their breakfast in silence. As they walked away from the seapony mares, he thought he saw a few of them giving Dame Squall envious looks.
“Dawson, look, I’m sorry about the others,” she said, still feeling slightly flustered over what Calm Breeze had said. Though last night had enflamed passions she didn’t know she possessed, she was still a daughter of Lord Triton and a chevaleresse of the Lawgiver, and needed to conduct herself as such. “I’m afraid there’s still some hard feelings over Bone’s Landing, and Sir Hurricane’s defeat.”
“It’s alright,” he replied, enjoying her company and the light scent of roses that her perfume carried. “As the only griffin-half around, I’ve gotten use to the teasing and petty insults. Actually, being hated for being a mudslinger is refreshing.”
“Oh, why is that?” she asked, brushing her purple bangs from her eyes with her fin. She was curious why anypony would desire to have anything to do with the Slave King, if they could help it.
“It’s refreshing being hated for belonging, rather than for being,” he explained, feeling his wings twitch involuntarily as they brushed against her backside. “Does that make any sense to you?”
“Well, not really,” she said, stroking her chin thoughtfully with her fin for a moment. Before sitting down besides Melody.
“What are you two talking about?” Melody asked, giving them a teasing smile.
“Not much,” Dawson replied, before returning to his half-finished meal. “Just trying to explain what it’s like to be a beastfolk.”
“Ah,” she appreciatively said, attacking her pancakes with relish.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Dame Squall asked, suddenly understanding his meaning. “I’d think being the son of Lady Zephyr, would’ve made growing up easier.”
“Well I’m weaker than most griffins, and mother was always afraid I’d get hurt,” he said between bites. “So she always had the tendency to be a bit over protective of me. I’d imagine Lady Suzaku felt the same way about you.”
“Ha, hardly!” Melody retorted, pouring a bit more syrup on her flapjacks. “Mother was quite the opposite. I actually think she’s relieved that her rambunctious children all live in the south. Though phoenixes are magically powerful, they are rather weak and never enjoyed rough housing.”
“So how many of you are there?” Dame Squall asked, cutting her food.
“Hmm… I’m not really sure,” she replied, tapping her fork thoughtfully against her plate. “Maybe fifty or more. Mother never told me our tribe’s full numbers.”
“So many?” Dawson said, feeling surprised that there could be so many feathered folk. “How could that be?”
Appreciating his confusion, Melody gave him a slight smile. “Well Dawson,” she said, leaning in close and lowering her voice to a whisper. “What do you know of the race known as the wayfarers?”
*****
The time for him to act was drawing close. Though he was certain his choice was the correct one, he still felt conflicted over betraying his friend in such a way. Though he would probably be punished harshly for his transgression, he was prepared to face the consequences. The alternative was too terrible to accept. Walking through the corridors of the palace, he wondered when this was over, if he would ever be forgiven. But the more pressing matter that occupied his mind was, would she ever forgive him for leaving her all alone. Though he had misgivings about it, he knew he couldn’t go through with this without letting her know why.
Walking towards the wing of the palace they shared together, he approached the door to her chambers, and knocked on it lightly. “Come in,” came the muted reply.
Opening the door, he entered and looked up at her, surprised that she was fully dressed in her armor. “Aria, my pupil,” he said, “I’m surprised you’re already up. I was fully expecting you to still be under the influence of last night’s revelry.”
When she heard him enter, she turned to face him. “Master Scourge, I chose to skip all the drinking,” she replied, offering him a wry smile. “With that traitor Second up to no good, the Slave King needed at least one of his servants with their wits still about them.”
When he heard her mention Second, he frowned. “Little pup,” he said, looking up into her golden eyes. “Come sit with me.”
“Yes, master,” she said, sitting down beside him, and resting her arm against the armor that was bound to his incorporeal form. “What is it?”
“My pupil,” he said, looking up at her and wishing that he didn’t have to force her to choose between her duty to her father and her loyalty to him. “The Slave King faces great peril today.”
When she heard him, she looked at her master with concern etched into her face. “Master Scourge, what is it, who is it?” she asked, trying to discover what great danger they’d failed to anticipate.
“Somehound will betray him today,” he replied with a heavy heart.
“It’s Second, isn’t it?” she cried out, incensed that treacherous scoundrel was still breathing. Drawing her long bladed arcanum knife, she ran a finger against its razor edge, as fire followed in her finger’s wake. “Master, allow me to eliminate him for his treason!”
Scourge shook his head, and placed his heavy paw against her. “No, little pup,” he said, wishing there was some other way. “Second has his paw in this betrayal, but he’s not the instigator of this conspiracy.”
“Then who?” she asked, wondering who else would dare, when the Slave King was at the height of his power. “Is it Arch Duke Yipyap, or possibly even Nidhogg? But why would they betray the Slave King? They’ve been nothing but loyal for centuries.”
“No, little pup, they aren’t aware of this plot,” he said, pleased with how quickly her mind was sifting through the plot. “The knife strike, shall come from the one he would never suspect.”
“Who else could it possibly be?” she asked, before realizing who he meant, himself. “Master, why are you telling me this?”
“So when I’m gone, you don’t waste away wondering, why,” he replied, giving her a sorrowful look. “I apologize, little pup, for implicating you in my betrayal. But I couldn’t go without saying goodbye first.”
“But, master! Why are you doing this?” she cried out, feeling her eyes burn as she felt the tears fighting to escape. “How can you possibly betray all you stand for? How can you betray the Slave King? How can you betray me?”
“Sometimes, little pup, you must fall upon your own sword, to protect the ones you love,” he replied, standing up, and fully prepared to betray his friend. “My disciple, I must ask that you remain here until the deed is done.”
“How can you ask me to do nothing?” she demanded, feeling tears wetting her face as she confronted him. “Master Scourge, this goes against all you’ve ever taught me!”
“Aria, I ask you to trust me,” he replied, turning to face her and offering her a plaintive look.
“But, master…” she begged, her voice trembling and nearly a whisper, while her reddened eyes threatened to release a torrent of bitter tears. “Please, don’t leave me all alone.”
When he heard her distress, he walked towards her, and held her. “Always remember,” he said, before breaking their embrace. “Little pup, I love you no matter what.”
As she watched him leave her room, she felt grief washing over her. She knew what the Slave King did to traitors, regardless of how long they’d served him. She knew Master Scourge would be no exception, and felt fear clutching at her heart at what would become of him. Once he’d finally left, she felt to her knees and wept.
*****
He could feel her warmth against him, it’d been so long since he’d last held her. He’d missed feeling her warmth so badly, it pained him. But the pain of his loss, was a thing of the past and no more. This time, he would be more careful. This time he’d be more attentive to her needs in the future, he decided. This time, she wouldn’t cry. This time he swore, she’d only know happiness. Resting his head against her warm body, he wondered if she’d missed him as badly as he had. Though his recollection of last night’s events was still fuzzy, he remembered her off key singing and fondly smiled. It felt so good after all this time, to finally be reunited with her. Though he still despised the Slave King, he decided he needed to thank him for making it possible to reunite with her.
It’s so nice, to wake besides somedeer you care for, he decided. Even if it’s on the floor. Wow, it starting to get rather warm. I’m so thirsty. I wonder what’s being served for breakfast. By the pit, Luna, you’re like a furnace! At least I’ll never have to worry about ice covered sheets again.
“Feeling comfortable, Cerynitis?” an irritated voice asked.
Without thinking, he snuggled against her flanks once more and smiled. “Yes, thank you for asking,” he replied. “Tell the kitchen, to bring us some water and a cup of tea for my lady.”
“Your lady?” the voice said, amused by what it’d been told. “Rimefrost, you blind fool! Open your eyes.”
When he opened his eyes, he was shocked by what he saw. Instead of lying beside his beautiful and lovely Luna, he found none other than the elemental form of the Fire Tyrant looking down at him bemusedly. “What have you done with her?” he demanded, struggling to stand, but finding such a task beyond him at the moment. As his angry voice rang out, he winced in pain as his voice rang through his head.
“Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho!” Lord Ouroboros laughed in amusement at his bed mate's bewilderment. “What have I done with her? Nothing, you fool. You spent all night with me, drunkenly swearing vengeance against the Slave King, and crying into your goblet over letting your dear sweet Luna slip through your hooves, like so much sand.”
“But last night, I remembered…” he objected, nearly retching on the foul tasting film covering his tongue.
“Nothing happened between us,” Lord Ouroboros insisted, giving him a dangerous look with his flame filled eyes, suggesting pain would be forth coming if he decided to press the matter.
“Then where is she?” he asked, fearful of the answer.
“She choose to share her bed with a more sober companion,” he replied, relishing the pain his revelation was causing him.
“No, not again!” Lord Cerynitis shouted, struggling to stand up on his unsteady hooves. Instead, he fell to the ground like a new born faun. When he realized he was stuck laying besides his tormentor, he cried out in frustration. “This isn’t fair! She returned to me last night!”
“You’re pathetic, Rimefrost,” the Fire Tyrant taunted, pointing a flaming claw at him. “Weeping like a dragoness, over losing a female. There’s plenty of others available, most of them are still in a drunken stupor. Stop your mewling, and have your way with one of them.”
“Shut up, wyrm!” he shouted, feeling cold fury overcome him. Standing up, he felt the icy tendrils of his power covering him, as he stood before his tormentor. “You’re nearly as degenerate as the Slave King. Had I the strength, I would smite you for your insult.”
“It looks like you’re not such a pathetic weakling after all,” Lord Ouroboros said with a slight laugh, releasing his power and renewed the dying flames that made up his body. Looking down at Lord Cerynitis, his flaming eyes took on a dangerous gleam. “So, Rimefrost, would you care to make good on last night’s boasting?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, not quite sure what he meant. “I don’t get your meaning.”
Lord Ouroboros looked down at the Lord of Winter with a hint of annoyance on his face. “Last night you vowed to destroy the Slave King,” he explained, giving him an expectant look.
When he heard the dragon make the suggestion, he frowned. “How could I possibly do that in the heart of his domain, and while he’s at the height of his power, no less?” he asked, unable to fathom how such a feat could be accomplished. “I am weakened, and you’re naught but easily extinguished flames.”
When Lord Ouroboros heard his objections, he flared with displeasure. “That is true, Lord Cerynitis,” he said, acknowledging his suggestion’s obvious flaws. “But not all dangers are so readily apparent.”
“Is the mighty, Fire Tyrant, actually attempting subterfuge?” Lord Cerynitis asked in disbelief. “Has the whole world gone mad, or do I still slumber, inside my icy keep?”
“Oh, this is no dream, Lord Cerynitis,” he replied, with a cruel smile. “The nightmare is just starting for the Slave King.”
Though he still remembered what happened the last time Lord Ouroboros attempted scheming against the Slave King, the cold rage in his heart demanded vengeance against the one who’s taken everything away from him. Shaking his antlers, he looked up at him. “Alright, I’m in. Tell me your plan,” he said.
With a conspiratorial smile, Lord Ouroboros leaned down and spoke into his ear. “It happened about twelve years ago…”
*****
“Luna, come out this instant!” Celestia said, with a voice as firm and unyielding as steel.
“Nay, sister,” Luna sulked, refusing to leave the bathroom she’d locked herself inside. “We shan’t allow him another opportunity to mock us.”
Though she didn’t know what had transpired between Luna and the Slave King last night, and what’d caused her to act so withdrawn. She wouldn’t allow her sister’s moodiness to ruin centuries of planning. “Dear sister,” she implored, softening her tone in hopes of drawing her out. “His inauguration ceremony will begin in a few hours, and both of us are required to be present.”
“But… but we shall be mocked by the others,” Luna wailed from behind the door. “The Slave King hast surely told the others of our meeting.”
“Luna…” Celestia gently said, hoping to assuage her sister’s fear of being publicly humiliated. “In the many centuries the Slave King has ruled, has he ever willingly engaged in gossip, especially when it involves himself?”
She said nothing, choosing to remain silent from behind the locked door. Looking down at the floor, Celestia could see her sister’s shadow, and knew she was finally willing to listen.
“Besides,” Celestia continued, “didn’t I promise you back in Londwhinium, that I’d ensure nopony mocks you?”
Opening the door slightly, Luna peeked out at her sister. Giving Celestia a sullen look, she bowed her head. “Dost thou promise it?” she meekly asked, looking at her with hope in her sapphire eyes.
Offering her sister a kind smile, she nodded once. “Of course, Luna,” she said, opening the door with her magic. “I would never allow anypony to harm you.”
Luna rushed to her side, and embraced her. “We art sorrowful, dearest sister, for our foalishness,” she said, finding comfort in her sibling’s warmth. “We fear to lose the respect of our peers. Tis, one of the few precious things we dost still possess, that is ours, and ours alone.”
“Luna, why would you ever think such a thing?” Celestia asked, filled with concern for her sister’s well-being.
“Celestia,” Luna replied, breaking their embrace and looking into her concerned eyes. “We art fully cognizant, that most consider us an afterthought to thy beauty, wisdom, and grace. We know none would desire us, when they could have thee instead.”
When she heard her sister’s confession, Celestia looked at her dejectedly. Her heart ached for her, and her lavender eyes grew moist, when she discovered how poorly she thought of herself. Luna, you will be happy once more, she swore, determined to rescue her sister from the darkness that seemed to be shrouding her heart.
“Little sister,” she affectionately said, as she gently nuzzled her cheek. “You are my exemplar. You are who I strive to be. Just as the night brings relief from the heat of the day, your kind heart and gentle nature tempers me.”
When she heard her sister’s loving words, Luna felt bewildered. She’d no idea Celestia felt that way about her. “Sister, forgive us…” she said, resting her head against her sister’s shoulder. “Forgive us, for being such a foal. For envying the praise given to thee.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Luna,” she replied, affectionately touching her horn to her sister’s. “Having you by my side is all I desire.”
Yes, Luna, the voice mockingly said. Run back to Celestia like an obedient little filly. Be a good foal, and do as you’re told.
When she heard the voice’s mocking whispers, Luna laid back her ears in agitation. Enough, thou fiend! she cried out. Leave us, thou scound miscreant. We desire the affections of our sister, not thy base and spurious rumors.
When Celestia saw Luna’s distress, she looked into her eyes. “Is something else bothering you?” she asked, wondering what was agitating her. “Are you still feeling apprehensive about the inauguration ceremony?”
Go on, Luna, the voice taunted, daring her to speak. Tell Celestia everything. How you’ve been lusting after the Slave King like some degenerate whore, and how you’re slowly losing your mind to a voice in your head.
“We… that is,” Luna stammered, deathly afraid what Celestia might think of her, if she spoke of the thoughts that had been plaguing her of late. “Aye, dear sister, we art simply feeling slightly embarrassed regarding our earlier tantrum.
“Don’t worry, Luna,” Celestia promised her. “I’ll be by your side the entire time. And if anypony so much as looks at you funny, they’ll have to deal with me.”
Seeing her sister filled with such concern for her well-being, brought comfort to her troubled heart. But what protection could she possibly offer against the cruelty of the voice’s taunts, or even worse, what if she was truly losing her mind? Deciding that she didn’t wish to worry her sister any further, she warmly smiled. “Celestia, whatever did we do, to deserve such a sister as thee?” she asked, disguising her fears behind a placid mask.
“I think that’s my line, Luna,” Celestia replied with a grin, pleased that her sister seemed to be in more jovial spirits. “Come, Luna, let’s eat. I think I smell pancakes.”
Luna nodded once, the thought of food made her stomach rumble in anticipation. Following her out of their shared quarters, she wondered how she might cope, should she meet the Slave King again. Her mind returned to last night, the kiss they’d shared, and his emotionless response to her offer. She didn’t understand his hesitancy, they’d had such a wonderful time together. She blushed, as she remembered how he looked when he’d opened his door to her. His muscled form looked as unyielding as stone, yet his hands were gentle and pliant with her as he examined her wounds. His green eyes, normally burning with cruelty, reflected concern for her, when she’d been attacked by his fearsome servant, Nightmare.
She’d found the playful banter they’d shared together enjoyable. He’d challenged her, yet still treated her as his peer. He neither scraped at her hooves for her approval, nor attempted lording himself over her. She thought of their impromptu race, how he’d graciously accepted defeat when she’d won, even though she’d cheated by knocking him aside. She’d been surprised by his response, when she demanded a prize, and he’d acquiesced to her claim. She wondered, had she requested what her body desired, would he have honored her request?
She could still smell the sweet intoxicating fragrance of the flowers blooming in Darkpaw’s Temple. She remembered how they’d excited and heightened the desire she’d felt. When he stepped into the emerald waters of the fountain, she’d felt a connection to him that only grew as he tapped into his power. Though he wasn’t a stallion, she’d thought he looked magnificent as he performed his renewal. They shared a connection to the Domain of Shadows, which strengthened the desire she held for him, and she was almost certain he’d felt the same pull as she.
When his renewal began, she’d felt the pulse of the Earth beating in time with him. Once he’d touched the large gem floating above him, releasing his power into the Earth, she found herself captivated by his majesty and allure. Though his body carried numerous scars, burns, old wounds, and was even missing his right arm. She found in him at that moment, an indescribable beauty, much like the rough craggy peak of a majestic mountain, or the desolate aesthetic of the barren desert beneath her pale moon.
Once he’d finished renewing the Earth, she’d found herself unable to resist the pull that existed between them any longer, and approached him. She sensed in him, the same longing she felt inside her own heart. Drawing near to him, she stepped into the sparkling green waters of the fountain, and felt invigorated as its potent waters healed her wounds. She’d been so close to him then, and felt his apprehension at her approach. She’d only wished to hold and comfort him, banishing away his fear. When she’d looked into his eyes then, she no longer saw a monster, but only somepony hiding behind a mask who was too afraid to accept the gift she willingly offered.
Reaching out to him with her magic, she’d only wanted to calm and reassure her dark paramour. Instead, she’d been taken by animalistic passion she’d not known in ages, closed her eyes, and kissed him. At first, he struggled against her magic’s grasp, as he tried breaking free. She’d found his struggles to escape had made her even more excited, as he fought in vain against her kiss. Blind to the world, she knew only his intoxicating scent, the pressure of his pliant lips, and the passion welling up inside her. She’d melted into him as he slowly accepted her kiss, and reciprocated her passion with all power of a fiery inferno. She’d felt his magic a mere hairbreadth away from mingling with hers, and desperately longed to join with him.
Once they’d separated, she’d looked up into his eyes, hoping he’d accept her invitation. She’d felt and shared the hunger burning within him, but also saw a quiet sorrow reflected back at her. Wishing to help him forget, she’d attempted enticing him to retire with her. But to her consternation, he withdrew from her yearning touch, abandoning her inside Darkpaw’s Temple, leaving her feeling frustrated and unfulfilled. Thinking of the electric atmosphere and tension that existed between them last night, she wondered why he’d spurned her advances. Perhaps, she’d been too forward with him, or maybe he’d felt overwhelmed and unsure of himself.
Looking at her elder sister, she found herself feeling envious of her mane and tail. Unlike her own mane that sparkled like diamonds, Celestia’s mane was radiant, like the dawn. Her pearlescent coat, accentuating the gentle curves of her flanks, drew the lustful eyes of stallions everywhere. Though she’d seen very little of his eyes beneath his mask like crown, she was sure that even the Slave King enjoyed looking at her sister just as much as the rest of the males of the pantheon. She sighed, knowing there was no way she could compete against her loveliness. Because, just as the sun outshone the moon, so too, did her sister’s beauty outshine hers.
“Luna?” she heard Celestia ask.
“What is it, mine sister?” she asked, looking up and realizing they were now in the Palace’s kitchen. She’d been absentmindedly following her sister, and hadn’t been quite been paying attention to where they’d been going.
Celestia offered her a warm smile, before gesturing towards the stacks of pancakes the Slave King’s army of chefs were making. “How many would you like?” she asked, levitating a plate towards her.
“At least eight,” Luna said, grabbing the offered plate with own magic. Looking at their surroundings, she tilted her head and looked questioningly at her. “Celestia, pray tell, why dost the Slave King expect us to fetch our own food?”
Celestia gave her sister a teasing smirk. “Come on, Luna,” she replied, piling her plate high with pancakes, butter, and syrup. “Where’s your sense of adventure? Don’t tell me, you don’t find this the tiniest bit fun. Imagine, what the nobility would say, if they saw us retrieving our own breakfasts?”
Luna smiled at the thought of the all the nobles feigning outrage. Furious at the scandal the Slave King had made, for having the audacity of making their princesses fetch their own breakfasts. “Nay, mine sister, tis not what we meant,” she said, placing a generous helping of cream a top her stack of pancakes. “We wonder why the Slave King declined serving us our meals in the banquet hall.”
“Luna, I think that’s why,” Celestia said, motioning towards an extremely agitated Lord Triton who was glaring daggers at an equally furious Lady Minoa, in the middle of the dining hall.
*****
He knelt low to the ground, trembling before the terrifying visage of the monster before him. He dared not look up, lest he incur its wrath. Withering beneath its bestial gaze, he closed his eyes, and hoped that the services he’d rendered thus far, were sufficient to stave off the fires of its displeasure. He might have prayed, had it done any good. But there was no gods among the pantheon that could aid him now. He was totally and utterly damned, his only hope for survival was continuing to service it, and hope that he didn’t fail.
“Second, you have pleased me,” the voice of his true master rumbled, causing him to shiver in terror, as each syllable drove an icy dagger of fear into his heart. “Soon, I shall be free, and the pantheon will be at my mercy.”
“And my reward, master?” Second asked, while cowering before his master murderous eyes.
“Never fear, Second, you shall receive your reward in due time,” his master replied with a slight chuckle, while looking down in amusement at his servant’s cowering supplication. “You will take the Slave King’s place, and rule over the Domain of Earth in his stead. That is of course, if you continue to serve me well. If not, well it’s best not to think of the consequences for failing me.”
“Of course, my master,” Second replied, trying his best to keep his composure. “The price of failure, is death.”
When his master heard his response, he let out a booming laugh. “Second, what makes you think your pitiful life is worth enough to cover the price for failing me?” his master asked.
“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, master,” Second replied, while digging his claws into the stone tile beneath him. “I only assumed you’d slay me for failing you.”
“Should you fail in your task, Second,” his master warned, while running his forked tongue along his razor sharp teeth. “You will join me inside the Pit. And there, I shall administer your punishment.”
When he heard the price for failure, his heart nearly stopped. The only time he’d ever looked down into it, he saw a black abyss staring back up at him, threatening to swallow up his soul. Ever since, he’d avoided both the Pit and the Gates of Tartarus whenever possible.
“I won’t fail you, master,” Second replied as calmly as he could.
“I know you won’t, Second. I know you won’t,” his master said, before giving him a thoughtful look. “Report back to me, once the Slave King’s fate has been sealed.”
“As you wish, master,” he replied, as his master’s image crumbled back into the earth.
Once he was alone, he exhaled in relief. He’d survived yet another meeting with his terrible master. His heart was still pounding with fear, and had he been a saner hound, he might’ve abandon his service to his dark lord. But he’d been traveling down this dark path for far too long to turn back now. His master had corrupted him totally and fully, and his only choice now, was moving forward to his master’s victory and his eventual reward as the new Lord of Earth.
“Well, he was a rather grim fellow, wasn’t he?” he heard a voice said from behind him, nearly causing him to have an aneurysm.
Fearful of his eventual fate as his master’s plaything, should his betrayal be exposed, he turned around quicker than lightning to face and slay whoever it was that was foolish enough to reveal themselves to him. Seeing nohound, he moved his ears, trying to get a fix on the invisible spy.
“Reveal yourself!” he commanded, as black flames ran up and down his body.
“Second, I think we’ll need to renegotiate my contract,” the voice said from above him.
“Oh, grub, it’s you,” he growled, searching for the changeling so he could kill the spy for what he’d overheard.
“What are you doing, Second?” Bazzt Zzzt asked with a small laugh. “Surely you’ll want to know what it’s going to cost you keep me on retainer, until the end of the world.”
“Oh, grub, I already have a sum in mind,” Second answered, smashing some of the furniture with his claws. “It comes with quite a generous severance package as well.”
“Oh, Second, I can imagine it does,” Bazzt Zzzt said, as his employer swiped his paw against a statue’s head, decapitating it. “I was thinking ten times the going rate, plus my labor costs of course.”
“Oh, of course,” Second agreed, raking his claws against a nearby wardrobe, breaking it into splinters. “Is there anything else you want?”
“Yes, I want in,” Bazzt Zzzt said. “I’m sure your master might have a place in his organization for someone with my talents.
When he heard the demand, Second viciously smiled, as he looked at his destroyed furniture and nodded. “Very well, Bazzt Zzzt,” he said. “But I need you to step out into the open, before I can initiate you.”
“Nice try, Second,” he said, with a smile. “But you’re gonna have to promise first, not to kill, maim, claw, bite, or otherwise try to harm me in anyway.”
When he heard the demand, he saw one of the nearby communications gems embedded in the wall. He could easily get one of his underlings in here to kill the bothersome insect. “Alright, I agree,” he said, nodding once as he stepped towards the gem.
“Not so fast, Second, but I’m going to have to insist you promise, that you won’t have others doing your dirty work for you,” he said, when he saw that his employer was attempting to summon his subordinates.
Knowing he was beaten, he balled up his large paw into a fist. Punching the wall as hard as he could, he broke a large piece of the stone wall into rubble. “Fine, you insolent insect,” he growled in frustration. “You’ll get your increased pay, and I won’t try killing you. But the master decides whether you get an invite into his inner circle or not.”
“Fair enough, Second,” Bazzt Zzzt said, jumping out of the doomhound’s shadow. He’d disguised himself by assumed the mirror image of Second. Offering his employer a rather self-congratulatory smirk, he presented himself with a slight bow.
When he saw where the insufferable changeling had been hiding the entire time, Second wanted to pull out his fur in anger. Though his master would be vexed at having been discovered, he liked initiative, and say whatever you wanted about Bazzt Zzzt, he possessed that in spades. Looking at the changeling spy with a slight scowl, he released a small growl. “Once the Slave King has been dealt with, I’ll let my master deal with you,” he said, leveling a dark look at his doppelganger.
“Since we’re going to be partners now, Second,” Bazzt Zzzt said, giving his employer a curious look. “Mind telling me what exactly is going on regarding the Slave King.”
Had he not just promised to spare the changeling any harm, Second would have slain Bazzt Zzzt for his impudence. However, he was a hound of his word, and so the bug would be spared for now. Besides, it would be much more entertaining seeing the changeling getting crushed by his master. “Very well, grub,” he said, laying his ears back in annoyance. “Consider this your first official assignment, in the service of our master. Here’s what I expect you to do…”
When he heard the plan, Bazzt Zzzt laughed at the sheer audacity of it. He was certain serving Second in this new capacity would be quite entertaining, not to mention quite lucrative. “Alright, Second,” he said, before exiting the room. “I’ll be waiting for your signal.”
Finally alone, Second looked at the damage he’d done to his quarters and sighed. He only hoped there would be no further complications, and walked to the gem embedded in the wall. Activating it, he sought out his unwitting accomplice in his plot to betray the Slave King. Scourge, are you ready to do your part? he inquired.
Over a minute passed before he received a response. Yes, yes I am, Scourge sullenly answered, the shame for partaking in this sorted affair clearly evident in his voice. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that, The Vendetta, has been relocated in time.
Good, I took a big risk in agreeing to help you, Second said, enjoying the moral dilemma his superior was suffering through. Scourge, I trust you’ve kept your muzzle closed regarding this.
Aria is aware of my intended betrayal, Scourge answered.
What! Second roared, bewildered why he’d do something so stupid. You fool! She’ll inform the Slave King of your treason.
I couldn’t allow her to wonder why I betrayed the Slave King, once I’ve received my punishment for my treachery, he answered, slightly annoyed that his subordinate was questioning his reasons.
If the little bird talks out of turn, spending some personal time in the Cavern of Torment will be the least of your concerns, Second replied, thinking back to what his master had warned him would be his ultimate fate, should he fail in this task.
Second, you seem rather concerned for my well-being for being such a reluctant partner in this scheme, he pointedly said.
Things were threatening to unravel, and Second couldn’t allow that to happen, not when he was so close to victory. Quickly, he returned to his favorite tactic, lying. Scourge, he venomously said, though no doubt you find my concern for your well-being touching. I assure you, it’s simply self-preservation. I simply don’t wish to suffer due to your bungling.
Aria won’t be a problem, Scourge said, worried what his subordinate might do to ensure her silence.
That’s not good enough, Scourge, Second warned, his voice hinting at violence. She’ll need to be silenced.
Don’t you dare touch her! Scourge roared, causing Second’s mind to reel from the power of his fury.
It was your choice to involve her, not mine, Second replied. Any harm that befalls her as a result, is squarely on your shoulders.
You touch her, and I’ll cast you into the Pit personally, consequences be damned! Scourge growled.
Then you’d better hope she keeps her pretty little beak shut, Second retorted.
She’s agreed to remain in her room until the deed’s done, Scourge answered, praying to the gods she would keep her promise.
Very well, Second said, reluctantly agreeing to stay his paw. But if she leaves her room, I’m going to have to take steps.
She will, Scourge answered, swearing on the Slave King’s iron crown to destroy Second, should any harm befall his beloved disciple.
Breaking his link with Scourge, Second removed his paw from the gem. Leaving the ruins of his personal quarters for the palace servants to deal with. Heading towards Aria’s room to ensure she had an accident, should she decide to warn the Slave King of their treason.
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I have been thinking to myself for weeks that it is time to update!
Wonderful!
No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.
2548051 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, look forward to a new update for the next three days at least (possibly a 4th, if the chapter gets big enough).
A wild update appears.
I think spitting up the chapter into parts is a sound plan; this seemed about the right length. Not entirely sure if putting the second arc in its own separate story is the best idea, but hey, it's your story not mine. And I suppose it does make re-reading easier.
While I confess to being an impatient bastard who doesn't want to wait several days, I am glad to hear we can expect several more installments in rapid succession.
2548099 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, I will release a new chapter daily until it's done. Do you think I'm better off keeping Book 2 as its own separate story rather then splitting them up? I was thinking since the end product would be almost as big as book 1, splitting them up made sense.
2548081 Thank you for your sharing your lovely sonnet, gentlereader.
Far beneath His mountain home,
The Slave King sleeps upon a throne of stone.
He dreams a land full of green,
A unicorn singing beneath a tree.
When he wakes he silently weeps,
For he knows shes out of reach.
2548132
I suppose it depends on just how separate the arcs are. But I guess the fact you're even considering it suggests there's a clear separation between the two. I think my main opposition would be that it seems a little weird to have book 2 part II, though this isn't really that important.
I'm reminded of my going through a 300K+ word story recently and that size does start to get a little unwieldy. I suspect it puts some people off from starting as well, so there are some benefits to splitting it.
Either way, your decision!
God damn it I love this story, but I aren't happy with Scourge, even though I know he's doing it, or thinks he is, for the Slave King.
2548230 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, sometimes I think your best friends, are the ones who help save you from yourself. Even though at the time it might be considered a betray of trust. In the end you're glad they did what they did.
The Slave King is gona be unbelievably angry at Scourges betrayal even more so if he finds out Celestia is a the instigator.
2548258 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, you'll just have to wait and see. But I assure you that it will be a satisfying resolution.
MOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR
2548335 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, if you wait until tomorrow you shall have another chapter.
Are you some sort of evil mind reader?, here i am. Oh a new update to my favorites....maybe it is the slave king...after so long....., bam i check it, and no it is not. I look up and say, maybe its time to drop it, accept its gone and move on with life.....two seconds later this comes trough XD!!!
2549252 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, as far as the chapter is concerned I was hard at work writing it for you. I'm still in the process of finishing up the last bit, but decided to break it up and post a new section every day until its done.
2549455 I think i came trough wrong. I am not complaining about the chapter being late (...like there was ever a release date XD) and if i sound a little rude is just because this story is quite literally the reason i check fimfiction every day, i am quite in love with the world you have built and really cant get enough of it.
2549470 Oh it's no problem, I was rather lazy in march and didn't write anything the entire month. But you'll have something to look forward to for the next three or four days, so rejoice. If you're ever concerned about my writing, such as if I fell off the end of the world or just want to know about about a chapter release, talk about some of my work, or even shoot the breeze, feel free to send me a PM. I'm always on, so expect a near immediate response.
It is always amusing to see the aftermath of a drunken fest. Seems like everyone has some sort of plan on getting the Slave King. Wonder when they all collide they'll just cancel each other out or just explode everywhere.
2552820 Thank you for your comments gentlereader, the answers to those questions will be answered in an hour when I hit the publish button. The Slave King's made a few enemies, and several of the big players seem to want to manage him various reasons (some for benevolent and others for nefarious purposes). The resulting fall out when the plots collide will be glorious to behold.
2552894
By the way, I really enjoyed that short story at the top. Seems like an Aesop ponies would teach their foals.
2552909 Thanks, I always like to include a little story at the beginning of the chapters to help flesh out parts of the world we might otherwise see.
Just for clarification, Dawson is part wayfarer, correct? Also, glad to see one of my favorite stories updated, and how!
When he saw the great crate, he smiled, his suffering temporarily forgotten.
Though her soft lips had tasted a bit salty from their earlier strenuous battle, and her breath had carried a hint of the ale she’d been drinking, she’d kissed him with a passion that made him feel an unfamiliar hunger as he reminisced what had transpired between them.
Dropping his fork onto his plate, he stood up, and shot her a dirty look, before heading over towards Dame Squall to talk with her.
Unless … he's actually heading over towards “the table” where Dame Squall is sitting, to talk to her.
… Would willingly what? And what's with all this “would”? “He'd” is a contraction of “he would” or “he had”.
Actually, being hated for being a mudslinger is refreshing.
“Well, not really,” she said, stroking her chin thoughtfully with her fin for a moment.
I'm pretty sure that “well” is being used to buy time to think, or make it sound like that.
“It looks like you’re not such a pathetic weakling after all,” Lord Ouroboros said with a slight laugh, releasing his power and renewed the dying flames that made up his body.