The String of Fate

by Omior Falroc

"Arc1: Mitm" Ch2 Confusion and-What? More confusion?

The faint whisk of a breeze blew, caressing the trees and grass, allowing them the small glimmer of excitement as they danced the dance of the wind. The wind flowed and picked up a few stray leaves as they played in circles, following wherever the wind took them. The leaves, however jubilant as they were, were disappointed at their shortened end as they got caught on something. A sort of armament made of steel, one which groaned as it began to move and shudder slightly.

Carefully, Omior got to his feet, brushing a few stray leaves off of his armor as he lifted himself. He stopped and his left hand shot up to his throbbing head, beating harder than a blacksmith’s guild with too many materials on their hands.

“Urg.....?” He groggily stated as he stayed in his kneeling position, praying to whatever gods to get rid of his headache and cursing the ones that caused it. After a minute or two, the violent throbbing and beating turned into a dull thump, Omior finally managed to stand up, using the tree to his right as support. ‘tree? Was I not in a castle not moments ago?’

Omior opened his eyes and scanned the surrounding area, he gathered himself and tried to regain his balance as the throb in his head started getting worse. His legs buckled under him and he started up another stray thought. ‘How long could I have been out? Should not of been more than a few mere hours... But this feeling of numbness in my legs....’

To his left, the warrior saw a road stretching towards a hill and another towards a river. He felt the back of his throat was hoarse as the headache once again began to recede. With his destination in mind, Omior went to the south, towards the river and deeper into the forest.

Once there, he kneeled down and began taking in big gulps, engorging himself on water as he realized as to what extent his thirst needed to be quenched. He must have been out for at least a few days....

Once he came back up for air, the warrior turned and looked around his surroundings. He noticed a small trail of wooden wheel tracks heading off into the denser part of the forest to his left. He also saw hoove impressions on the ground. ‘hmm. Deep enough for them to be running?’

Omior took note of a small rustling in the thicket behind him. He slowly moved his right hand to his sword at his waist. The rustling stopped and silence hung in the air, thick as molasses. Carefully, the warrior wrapped his thin fingers around the handle of his sword, inching it slightly out of the sheath.

Suddenly, Omior dropped into a roll towards his left as a hoof came down where he once was. He had little time to act as he pulled his sword out the rest of the way, only to have it knocked out of his hand and fall to the grass a few feet away.

Another set of hooves connected with his chest and shot him into the tree behind him, causing the brittle tree to crack violently. The tree tilted slightly, leaning on the good half of itself; Omior was in a daze, but shook himself out of it just in time to register another set of hooves flying at his head. He dropped to the ground and the rest of the tree finally gave up its struggle to stay standing, cracking and caving in on itself as it fell towards where Omior and the pony were struggling.

Both parties registered and moved out of its way, it gave Omior a chance to gather what his opponent looked like. He was green, really green, with a pair of binoculars tattooed on his flank for some reason. The pony in question shook himself and yelled out as he charged Omior.

Omior spun out of the way and elbowed the pony in the ribs. The pony in question gasped as he fell to the ground. The warrior gave no chance of reprieve as he swung his fist at the stallion, smacking him across the face, leaving a dribble of blood to flow freely from the pony’s mouth.

Omior stopped to see the pony appeared to be unconscious. He tested it with a kick and was satisfied to see no reaction from the insolent and violent pony. He turned and began walking calmly to his sword. He bent down and before he grasped the sword, a pair of hooves landed around the warrior’s neck, holding on as if for dear life.

Omior cried out as he swung the pony around, trying to get the four legged annoyance off of him. “Argh! Get off you annoying son of a-” A hind hoof connected with the warrior’s manhood then. he cried out a shrill and very high pitched whine as he grasped at his precious family jewels. “Mother....”

The pony had relinquished his hold and stood over Omior, who had fallen down, clutching his poor damaged property. The pony started talking. “Die you villanous wretch! Stealing poor ponies on the path you cretin!” He threw his hoof towards the warrior who was barely able to move his head out of the way.

The warrior coughed a few times before speaking up, “W-what are you talking about?! I just woke up here!” Another hoof came down and hit Omior’s jaw. He sputtered and coughed up blood as he continued, “one second I was talking to Celestia *cough cough* another, I was taken and just recently woke up.” Another hoof was held above the warrior but didn’t strike down, instead, it reluctantly lowered to the ground.

“And how do I know I can trust you?” The green pony kept his hard gaze on Omior, watching as he slowly got up.

“You can’t, at least not yet. But I would appreciate the benefit of the doubt.” Omior managed to get to his feet now. He brushed himself clean of dust and grass as he continued. “But I would like to know what you’re talking about. Sounds to me like something that should be stopped.”

The pony muttered something but ultimately sighed in defeat, “I had some family that disappeared along this road. Rumor has it that the responsibility lies with a strange creature that takes them for food. If that’s true then I would like to find it so I can kick its teeth in.” The pony spit up a small mucus ball colored crimson from the fight as he finished.

The warrior said nothing, he just looked towards the ground, slowly allowing the words of the pony to sink in. He raised his head and walked closer to the pony. He readied himself as Omior raised his hand towards him, outstretched with his palm up. “Then allow me to help you.”

The pony sputtered slightly as his guard dropped, “bu-but you don’t even know me, and I very nearly just killed you. Are you not mad?” The pony nearly yelled with a hint of animosity.

“It’s an oath that we warriors take in my clan. To help when we can regardless of the race or species, if there is evil running amok we must lend our aid.” The warrior said, letting his hand fall as he recited his clans most sacred of oath’s. “I am Omior Falroc,” he said, “and who are you?”

“V-vigil. Just Vigil,” the pony said as he turned his head away, slightly bitter but overall keeping his opinion to himself.

Omior bowed to the equine and waved with his arms towards the tracks. “Well then, please, if you may; lead the way.”

Author's Note:

Woo chapter two, hope you guys liked it as much as I liked writing it.

Comments

[Hegamonia]

Samurai code also abhors from Samurai to kill innocents and helpless individuals, that is, if his code is based upon the Bushido, it is a huge dishonor to take on easy prey

[Omior Falroc]

2486530
That is interesting, but his code isn't based upon anything in specific really