A mare, with not much knowledge of the world she has awaken in, goes on a long journey that is in the tales of prophecy.
There is a prophecy of an undead that will rise to rekindle the flames and extend the age of Hope and Harmony.
No one knows when this undead will come, but some think it is soon. And when this pony does come, he or she will have a journey like none other. A journey of pain, suffering, and perhaps even death.
A hoof stretched out of a sandy grave. It was a half-rotten hoof that was covered in rusted steel plates and broken chain mail. The hoof clutched the side of the grave's edge, letting all the dirt and sand slide off it like a waterfall. It was weak and skinny, full of signs that it had not seen the sky in decades. With the feeble strength, it pushed upward, displacing more and more sand.
"Once a proud nation, ruled by the Alicorn Princesses of old..."
Another hoof burst from the sand with twice the effort as the first. This one was missing some of the armored plates, but it acted the same way. It took hold of the other side of the grave and with sheer determination, pushed the rest of the pony upward.
"It was an Age of Prosperity, an Age of Hope, an Age of Harmony. That was until the Fires started to fade..."
The tip of a knight's helmet emerged from the sandy grave. The visor and breathing holes allowed the loose sand to pour out from within the helmet. Two bony ears protruded from the back of the helmet. The steel of the helm was filthy and not a gleam shined from it. The original shine was lost and all that remained were the scratches and dents of battles past.
"With the Fires fading, Hope was lost and the Undead began to rise..."
A startled breath came from within the helmet. It was more of a frightened gasp than anything else. The high-pitched wail disturbed nothing as there was nothing in sight. The eyes of this rising warrior looked upon the sand that was everywhere. It was not sand, but ash. A gray and loose ash that had no end in sight.
"Not even the six Bearers of Harmony, who were the heroes of the land, could stop the Fires from growing dark..."
After the helmet came two shoulders, both with short pauldrons that were loosely strapped on the pony. A wingless torso followed, being dressed in a golden garb that rested over the steel plates that almost completed the armor. Like everything else, it showed the signs of tear and neglect as it had sat under the ash for years untold.
"The Younger Sister, who did not believe in the Fires, deserted her companions to seek a new Hope. A Hope that will survive without Light..."
The warrior let out a deranged groan and pulled itself out of the ashen grave completely. Upon standing up, its back legs in identical armor as its fronts, fell to the sand, unable to keep balance. A tail of faded bluish color followed the weak moving corpse. The warrior kept a shallow breathing, making the ash in front of it's muzzle wisp into the air that only blocked its vision.
"The Dragons of the Southern Badlands left Equestria to its doom, but soon realized the Undead Curse did not spare any species..."
The warrior placed all its hooves firmly in the ash and stood up with arduous effort. It looked upon the land that it has just awoken to. Ash, nothing but ash and the ancient signs of conflict. Swords and forgotten corpses of griffons and ponies dotted the ashen landscape. Mountains lined the horizons in every direction, but any actual distance could not be determined by the solid gray color of the world.
"With no other options, the Princess of the Sun, who would do anything for her home, sacrificed herself to the Fires to keep the flames of Hope alive..."
One hoofstep after the other, the warrior trudged along the wasteland. Not a thought was spent trying to remember why the world was so ruined. The warrior knew nothing but the faintest of memories in a life long gone. The undead pony reached a sword, pulled it out of the ash, and strapped it on the back with thin leather straps that were also on the swords. Something told it that this particular sword belong to it, but that was nothing but a peculiar feeling.
"Her sacrifice extended the Age of Hope and the Age of Harmony, but not even she could stop the Fires from fading once more..."
The walking was exhausting to the warrior. It slid the helmet's visor upward, revealing the face of a young mare, old beyond number. Her eyes were gray and unclear, her lips dried and some of it missing, and her fur was caked with ash and dirt. She tried to say something, but only a guttural sound came from within her parched throat.
"Then came an Age of Conflict when all the species tried to save themselves, only to fall faster into Oblivion..."
The warrior sat down on her haunches, making a rattling noise that died down in the ceaseless wind. With one hoof, she shook the ash off the other to see that her fur color was an off-white. She could not tell if this was her actual color, or simply the signs of being under ash for an innumerable amount of years.
"The Fires faded, yes indeed, and all Hope was lost. Equestria succumbed to the Undead Curse, not even the Alicorn Princesses escaped it..."
She pulled the visor back over her face and marched onward to a location she knew nothing about. The hoof prints left behind her disappeared in the violent breeze that carried the ash and sand about. Her wandering took her passed the skeletons of the griffons and the corpses of the ponies, even passed the massive skull of a dragon.
"There is spoken, however, of a prophecy. A prophecy where one Undead will rise and rekindle the fading flames in the attempt to restore the Age of Hope. A prophecy of an awakening that will shake the world and start another age to be remembered."
The warrior found a torn thin cloak that was caught on a spear. She raised her visor, took the cloak in her mouth, and fashioned a shawl to block the flying ash. With squinting eyes, she pressed on against the wind, going somewhere she thought would be best. She could barely see the outline of a sign of civilization; or, perhaps, the remains of one.
She found more strength as she walked onward. The armor that was wrapped around her slender body rattled and the metal plates clicked when they touched each other. Some of her wanted to remain in the ash hills, but her body had a yearning for the structure in the distance. It attracted her with the power of a magnet.
The corpses grew fewer in number as she walked down this gradual mountain of ash and dirt. The winds also died down slowly with her descent. As she marched on, the ash was thinning, allowing what appeared to be green spikes pop out of the now browning earth. Her hoof met a stone, and the sudden sturdiness made her pause. It was firm, it was something she never remembered feeling before. All of the world was a vague familiarity that made no sense. She could think coherently, but she did not know what to think. She tried once again to speak, but her mouth seemed unable to make a syllable beyond the sounds of regretful moaning.
Odd shapes grew out of the ground and rose high above her. Their bases were of textured columns and their tops were as green as the spikes that sprouted from the dirt. She knew what they were called. They were trees. Upon touching the bark, she knew that she understood why these shapes existed.
Her eyes wandered to the far distance. There, above all other mountains, was a massive pile of rock and stone that soared above any lesser mountain. On the side, there appeared to be minarets to an ancient city. It was so far away, she did not take interest in it, but instead continued to her first destination.
"Souls..." she finally whispered beneath her helmet. "Souls..."
It was all becoming clear. That was her mission. That was her purpose. She was not thirsty for a clear liquid that she barely remembered, but the power that was in every living being: souls. Her undead flesh craved it, her lips quivered upon thinking of them, her eyes twitched upon uttering the meaningful word. Souls, that was her. She was souls.
"Speak now," she told herself. "Learn, relearn. I may not know where I am, but I am here."
The structure turned out to be only one side of a building that used to be exotic and massive. Stone and debris lay about, mostly sunken in the ground and covered in moss. The standing part was a tall archway, not much more to it. Whatever it was, it was much taller than it was wide. In the middle, under where each archway would meet, was a sword in the ground, glowing slightly with heat. At the base of the upside down sword was a pile of ash and bones with a small, flickering flame rising from it. It was a pitiful flame, not even a candle would boast of it. However, its little dancing drew the warrior close.
"Fire..." she muttered.
She leaned down to see it closely. With a hoof, she lifted the visor and her eyes stared at the little flame like it was the most important object in the world. She reached out to touch it. As her hoof drew closer, the flame danced about wilder and shot up. The fire grew three times its size, making the warrior jump back in fright. She could now feel a distant hotness coming from the revitalized flames. The warmth soothed her and she sat down just to continue gazing into its wavy movement.
For the first time, she felt like looking upwards. The sky was lined with gray, but there, right above her, was the sun. Next to it was the moon, both equally dividing the heavens. Neither moving, neither going into the area of light or the area of darkness. It was a perpetual twilight that was by far the most colorful sight she could see.
As she sat there, she gained more energy. She used this energy to take all of her armor out and clean it of ash and dirt. It was more for comfort's sake than cleanliness. Upon removing all the armor, she inspected herself with her eyes and inspected her face through the dirtied reflection in her old helmet.
"I hope I've looked better than this..."
Just like her hooves, she had the overall appearance of one who had been decaying. Flaps of skin and loose fur hung from her limbs, Her rib cage was exposed and every single bone could be distinctly seen. Her waist was so thin that she doubted her organs were inside. Her teeth had mostly fallen out, leaving only a couple black ones, her muzzle was shifted and uneven. To put it plainly, she looked as grotesque as the bodies she left behind in the ash on the hills. She was undead, a warrior long deceased recalled to life for seemingly a purpose greater than herself.
With the armor cleaner than it was before, she put it back on without the slightest thought. She adjusted the almost worthless leather straps and adjusted the armor so that it would be somewhat comfortable. After that, she sat down once again in front of the small fire, watching it idly. She could not stay here forever, she knew that. She wanted to stay, she desperately wanted to stay, but her body twitched with a hunger that was not felt in her stomach, if she even had a stomach. Her skin on her torso was so tight around her bones she wondered if there were anything underneath at all.
"Souls..." she whispered again.
Her eyes wandered around, trying to see anything that could be of use. Since she was more or less on the side of a large hill, she could see over some of the treetops. The land before her was vast and vaguely familiar. To her, it could not always have been so feral. Something used to be around here, maybe a village, maybe a town, but the years of plant growth engulfed it and made it one with the seemingly endless forest. This made her look back at the hill of ash behind her, leaving her only confused with the drastic change.
"Must get moving, nothing's here for me," she said.
With effort, she pushed herself up with the aid of her sword. The small flame called her to return to it, but she refused and took her first steps away from the sword in the ground. There was a thin trail that led into the thicker parts of the woods. It was not the only path, but she convinced herself it was the best choice. Her hooves dragged across the ground and she left the small flame.
The woods were dark. With the sun only lighting half of the sky, it was hard to see the trail. The little flame still told her to come back, but she fought it and kept going forward. What was ahead? She had no idea. She tried humming a tune to break the silence, but she remembered no tune and thus only made a constant sound from her dead throat.
As she went deeper, the trees became thicker and the brush became higher. Some pony skeletons were hanging from the larger trees, as if they were nailed onto their old trunks. By their skull shapes, she could tell that they were different. Some had horns, some had hollowed bones, and some had nothing. What gave them their brutal ends? There seemed to be no reason for this horrifying scene.
"I'll try not to end up like them," she whispered.
She went farther until she saw the first moving object. It was a hunched over pony sitting on the side of the trail. The pony had very little fur and no clothes. The large eyes were rotten and the jaw was hanging open with no teeth inside. However, it was breathing and the dry breathing could be heard. The warrior approached the pony cautiously.
She was within leg-length of the undead pony, but it never even took notice of her. It just stared at the ground, moving its tongue back and forth. She cocked her head at it.
"Hello?" she asked.
It said nothing.
She reached her leg and poked it in the shoulder, making it sway as if it was nothing more than a plant in the wind. When she touched it, a small sensation ran up her leg. It was a warmness like the flame, only much weaker. This pony had a soul, or, at least, part of a soul. This pony was something that could be consumed and could nourish the warrior.
"Souls..." she whispered again.
With a twitch of her eye, she pulled out her sword. The pony did nothing still and only stared at the ground. Its mind was gone, it was a hopeless hunk of rotting flesh that contained some fading soul. The warrior did not think once of what she was doing, she was hungry, she needed to feed. With the handle in her teeth, she swung at the pony, striking it squarely and sending to the ground with a weak grunt. With the pony dead on the ground, a small white wisp floated from its chest and went straight into the warrior's. That small soul made the warrior feel relieved for a split moment, but it was barely worth it. The ash may have fed her better than that pony.
"At least it was something," she sighed as she sheathed the sword.
She did not linger on the dead pony, but moved on with caution. The darkness of the woods shrouded her, but she cared not. With some founded determination fueled with hunger for souls, she moved ceaselessly down the trail. The only sounds she heard were the raspy breaths from her rotten throat.
The dullness of the quiet woods was lessened by the tall hill she climbed. The dry dirt under her hooves sent dust around her legs that then settled on her bracers. It was an arduous climb as the hill became steeper as it went upward. Her hoofsteps disturbed rocks that had settled in the ground, making them roll loudly down the hill.
With effort she pulled herself over a small ledge and into an opening. She had reached the top of this hill where the trees were fewer and shorter. With the sunlight and the moonlight both staring down at her equally, she squinted her eyes to see the land before her. Ash was off to one side, never having a real end, woods were on the other side, and in the distance, were towers, buildings, and huts from an era long past. These buildings called to her. Souls were present within those ruins, she thought. She did not know what they stood for or how they got there, but she felt determined to reach them.
"That's my destination. The distant ruins..." she said through her parched throat.
The warrior reached a bridge that went over a rushing river. The loudness of the river echoed through the trees. It was a stone bridge, still standing firm and strong despite being there for an innumerable amount of years. The warrior walked to the middle of the arched bridge and looked down at the white water below. The river went down a fall not a hundred feet down river.
The river was soothing to her. The noise, the rush, the peacefulness of it all felt out of place in the wilderness. She wanted to touch the stream, but the hunger for souls pulled her back. She had to keep going; she had to reach some sort of civilization. With a sigh, she took her hooves off the stone railing and continued.
The trail she walked on started to go steeply downhill. After sliding down on the rocks, she finally reached the bottom of the hill. The amount of souls she felt at that moment took her breath away. She was approaching something that was filled with souls. Like a faded scent, she pressed forward, thinking that that was the way toward whatever possessed such power. The trees around her were much older and taller than the ones before. It all looked vaguely familiar, yet still a foreign land in her mind.
The trail grew wider and with it, were mindless ponies much like the one she killed earlier. They grunted, they gurgled, they simply sat there and moaned pathetically. All of them had faded souls, but the warrior spared them as she passed. They were not the souls she was sensing. She looked at them curiously. Some wore armor, some had swords resting on their rotten bodies. They were wearing uniforms of some sort. The color of the rags that draped over their armor was a yellowish color.
"What drove you to madness?" she asked them, but as she expected, they gave no answer.
At the end of the trail was an archway that was as tall as the trees around it. Moss grew on the old stone and carvings that lined the archway were covered by the green. Right before this archway was another sword in the ground. It called it her to touch and she did, making the dying flames ignite with new passion.
Not even this fire was what possessed the souls. The feeling of the souls were stronger than ever. Whatever had them, it was beyond the archway. Fear suddenly gripped her. If the undead ponies had such weak souls, what could have such a powerful soul? She drew her sword and stepped forward through the archway.
A tall waterfall was on her right when she passed the archway. It was not a big river that flowed, but more like an average creek. The water went off another waterfall and out of sight. At this second waterfall stood a creature over twice her size. It was on four hooves like her, but had a second torso that was ape-like in place of an equine's neck. It stood there, looking at the darkened side of the world.
"Who is it that seeks me?" it asked with a very weak voice. "I sense you are not like the other ponies."
It turned around to have the sun shine down on its face. It was obviously male by his face and voice. He had a white beard on his black and red body Two yellow eyes stared at her with effort, as if he had trouble staying awake. His arms were incredibly thin, much like his whole body. He wore no clothes and only had a thick fur coat.
"Ponies like you are becoming more frequent," he said. "Ponies and creatures that sprout from their ash-ridden tombs to foolishly challenge every being they come across. It is good though, as your souls are more satisfying than the hollows that wander these woods."
He took his first steps towards her. She kept her sword pointed at him, but took some steps back from the creature. He was undoubtedly the one who had the souls. Perhaps the souls of warriors much like her?
"Do you even know who I am?" he asked.
"I do not care for your name, beast," the warrior said with the sword in her mouth.
"You all used to say my name as if a reckoning was taking place," he spoke flatly. "You said it with fear! Now you all look at me as if you have never encountered my like before. Should not surprise me, the memories of this land have been lost."
He opened his mouth and a ball of orange energy formed between his two small horns. Suddenly, a beam of magic shot at the warrior, making her jump out of the way. When she recovered, she looked up to see him running at her, slamming her with his lower half and sending her across the grassy ground.
She grunted in pain, but valiantly stood back up. He shot his magic again and she was quick to dodge it like the first time. He already appeared frustrated by her swiftness. She took her sword and charged at him, swinging at one of his legs. He was slow to move and she gashed his right front leg, making him scream in agony. In anger, he grabbed her with his arm and proceeded to slam her straight into the ground.
"How dare you! I am a lord!" he shouted.
She swung at him again, but this time he slapped her across the face with one of his thin hands, sending the sword out of her mouth. In a desperate attempt to hurt him, she bucked him in his chest, staggering him. With him stunned, she ran for her sword and took it back up in her mouth.
"You are more determined than most warriors I meet," he chuckled.
He fired his beam again, this time hitting her. She had blocked the main force with her sword, but it still threw her back into a wall of rock. For the first time, she felt cold blood escaping her lips. She licked it up, tasting the sweet liquid that oozed slowly from her wounds. He charged his attack up once more, but she was not going to allow him to hit her twice. She tumbled out of the way, right before the beam met with the stone, causing a loud booming noise.
He fired again and again, but she dodged them until she was right next to him. His feeble movements could not save him from her stabbing him in the side with her blade. He limped away from her in anger as he too let his blood run out of his deep wounds. She pressed the advantage, but was countered when he swiped his tail at her, sticking her and knocking her to the wet ground.
She coughed up more blood, watching the almost black liquid mingle with the stagnant water she laid in. It was an odd sensation as her pain and wounds felt distant, as if not totally present on her undead body. She coughed up more blood before returning to her hooves.
The creature stood defiantly next to the creek. He was just as wounded as she was. The warrior smiled as she felt his souls becoming hers. With a yell, she charged at him. He opened his mouth wider than he ever did. Before she could reach him, she was picked up in his magic. She squirmed in the magical grasp, but it was no use. She felt some of her life be drained from her. He seemed to literally suck it from her with his open mouth.
"Gahhh..." she groaned.
She was dropped from his magic, feeling disoriented from the draining. He seemed to grow a little bit taller after gaining some of her power. His nostrils flared as he looked down at her.
"Earth ponies..." he muttered. "Their magic is practically useless to me."
She was stunned. Her swollen eyes glared at his legs, of which one was still injured. His wounds were still there, thus making him just as exposed as before. With effort, she picked up a stone and threw it at him, hitting him in the face. As he covered his face with his weak hand, she picked up her sword once more to strike.
Her sword cut his other front leg, making him fall to his knees. His chest was there to be stabbed, but he grabbed her right before she was going to strike and threw her down with the little strength he had. She bounced off the ground and rolled herself upright. He still sat on his wounded knees. His mouth opened and a ball of energy was between his horns. The warrior, in one desperate attempt, spun around and threw the sword towards him before he could fire his magical attack. The sword flew true and straight into his chest, making his eyes roll up in his black sockets. His hands clutched the blade that was inside him, but he possessed no strength to remove it. Blood oozed down his chest and with one loud gasp, he fell on his side and into the small stream, turning the clear water into a horrid blackish color.
The warrior wanted to laugh at her victory. She was satisfied. However, her wounds ached terribly and her eyesight blurred with pain. Bits of bone and skin fell threw the holes in her armor like dust from an opened sandbag. She could no longer breath. Her body fell to the wet ground. She tried to get herself up, but she could not and simply crawled along the grass. The beast's dead body was slowly fading out of existence as his great soul left the corpse. He was defeated and his soul was her prize. Where was the soul? She did not know as her own life seem to extinguish within her rotten and dejected body.
"Souls..." she whispered before falling on her back to stare at the split sky.
As her eyes closed slowly, she felt a presence rush towards her. It was a kind presence, much like the small fires she met with glee. The presence, in its wondrous sensation, stopped before her. The blur of the warrior's vision could only make a beige outline of a pony. The outline burned with the gracious warmness of the flames. It soothed her to no end and her eyes shut entirely.
"Do not worry, wanderer," the being spoke. "Death shall not take you this day."
Those words repeated themselves in the mind of the warrior. In the whiteness of her conscious, color began to form in the center of her sight. Her body started to tingle at the ends of her hooves and her muzzle. The colors were mostly dark and plain black. She could see the split sky which did not allow much real sunlight through the tops of whatever was above her. She had no will to move, so her eyes remained focus on the sky.
After a bit longer, she could sense the souls around her. To her left, she felt a soothing flame and to her right, an even more soothing sensation. Her helmet was not on her head, so she could see to her side, but whatever was there, it was too far away for her to see clearly. With some strength, she opened her mouth to speak.
"Anyone there?" she asked.
"I see you've come to," was the answering voice.
The warrior caught the movement of a pony. The silver cloak and yellow-orange fur indicated that it was the pony she saw right before she lost consciousness. This unicorn pony walked over to her and sat on her haunches. She had what looked like a silver crown shielding her eyes. It was odd to even think she could see at all if it wasn't for the tiny slits in the crown's elaborate engravings. She also had a silver hood that connected to the matching cloak. Red and yellow curls escaped the hood. This mare was not rotten nor even appeared dead, but quite lively. She smiled warmly at the warrior, who only responded with a skeptical glare.
"Where am I?" the warrior asked and tried to get up.
"Please rest," the mare told her. "You are weak and need to rest. I almost lost you when I dragged you to here."
"I asked you a question, mare."
"This is the Hollow Shades. It used to be a village of mainly earth ponies like yourself. Now it is ruins with hollows wandering about."
The warrior looked about to see ancient homes covered in moss and vines around her. The two of them were in what appeared to be the village's center as all the houses faced them in a circle. She also noticed that the soothing flame was right nest to her, but its flame was the smallest she had ever seen. It appeared as if it would snuff out at any given second.
The mare continued. "After you defeated the Centaur of Tartarus-"
"That's what he was? A centaur?" the warrior interrupted.
"Yes. He used to be a lord that was extremely powerful. He would suck the magic from ponies that would make him bigger and stronger. The undead curse ruined him because he could not replenish his powers with the magic-less hollows. He shrunk for years and years until he was in the state that you found him. Ever since he came to this part of Equestria, you are the first to defeat him."
The warrior sat up. "I was lucky. He tossed me around and I simply got him where I needed to."
The mare levitated a glass of some shiny liquid and brushed up close against the warrior, giving the supposed drink to her. "Perhaps," she said as she gave the warrior the drink, "or you are a warrior meant for great things. The centaur was three times your size at least and just as strong. I've seen countless undead come from the ash hills to meet their end at his claws. Finally, one actually beats him. You're already the most powerful warrior I've witnessed."
The warrior sipped the drink. It was rather sour and she frowned upon drinking it. "What is this?"
"Oh, something the zebras cook up. It's something to feed the undead as you do not eat like the living."
"It's refreshing," the warrior shrugged. "May I have more?"
"It's enough for you. I do not have much of it. Maybe later," the mare said and took the drink away.
The glass levitated away into one of the abandoned homes. The mysterious mare remained close, as if she was afraid to take a step away. The warrior was perplexed by her behavior. Was this a custom of ponies long ago? Not even in her faintest of memories could she recall such actions. The mare seemed to know what she was doing and gestured at the small fire that was barely visible.
"You may be wondering what I am. I am a Firekeeper. I, well, tend to the flames. I'm certain you've already discovered these small flames before."
"Yes," the warrior said as she got to her hooves. "They are soothing and they...they are wonderful."
"They are small embers left from the First Flame," the Firekeeper explained. "They are Hope and Harmony in corporeal form. They...used to be more common and much more intense. Without care, they fade out of existence, so that is why I must try to keep them lit. Without me, this bonfire would have been lost long ago."
The warrior reached out to the dying flame, making it dance up in delight. The Firekeeper smiled as the warrior brought some needed life to the ember. The soothing intensity from the flames made the warrior relax, giving her the opportunity to release a held-in breath. The two of them then stared at the rising flame with pleasant thoughts.
"Never seen an undead kindle it so," the Firekeeper commented. "There's something special about you, I can feel it."
"Me? Special?" the warrior huffed. "I have no knowledge of this place. I have no knowledge of my purpose."
"You soon will," the Firekeeper sounded hopeful. "As long as you have hope and do not turn hollow, then nothing can defeat you. Hope starts with a name and a memory. A good memory. My name is Sunset Shimmer and I keep memories of my days with Princess Twilight and Princess Celestia long before the curse ever happened. See? So, what is your name?"
The warrior simply shook her head. "I do not know."
The Firekeeper seemed a bit annoyed by the straight answer, but composed herself. "Any memories? A fond one?"
"My memories seem to be there, but I could never describe them. Like a dream that you awoke from but can never fully remember. You simply know it was interesting."
"Well, at least you remember how to dream," the mare smiled. "Keep onto that. That could help. I'm sure you'll begin to remember your past when you become less....undead."
"Less undead? Ha!" the warrior looked down.
"There are ways, trust me. I've seen some undead look even more alive than myself."
"I'm guessing you do not know how otherwise you would tell me."
"Yeah..."
"Then I shall have to get used to this deformed corpse," the warrior said as she looked down at her hooves.
The Firekeeper stood up and walked towards one of the abandoned homes. The warrior raised a brow before standing up as well. The sounds of the Firekeeper's long silver cloak sliding over the grass was by far the loudest noise in the forgotten village. The warrior watched as her own hooves made soggy sounds in the moist earth. As she followed the Firekeeper, she looked around. It was clear the village was never a large one, but it was well-decorated at one time. Statues of rearing ponies surrounded the center of the village and some of the streets were paved with cobblestone. Some of the trees themselves seemed to have had houses built on their massive branches. Some trees were carved from the inside to be actual abodes.
"The Hollow Shades, huh?" the warrior spoke. "Did you live here?"
"No, never," the Firekeeper answered. "I actually lived in Canterlot and then...elsewhere. I only tend to the fires around here because Equestria is a dangerous land. These woods are rather peaceful compared to them. The centaur was the only threat to me, but he never came after me."
The both of them went inside a house. It was damp and the floor was as mossy as the outside. The door was long gone, so they simply walked through the opening. A half-rotten table was in the middle of the room with a pony skeleton sitting on one of the table's chairs. The Firekeeper did not hesitate and sat at one of the the vacant seats next to the skeleton. She leaned over the table with one of her legs propped up to support her head. The warrior did not take the other seats but instead wandered around to look at the various objects in the home.
Like everything else in the village, there was a vague familiarity to the house. The warrior thought it logical that she once lived in a place much like this, but she found no evidence of it. She paused at seeing a pot. Her hoof picked it up and rotated it. Every time she inspected some common object, she could recall just about everything about it except her personal memories. It was a pot, she knew this, and she understood that it was meant for cooking over a fire, but did she ever cook with one? She could not guess.
"Is this your home, Firekeeper?" the warrior asked after she put the pot back on the counter it was resting on.
"Well, yes. I spend time here when it rains. Most of the time I spend wandering the nearby areas. Sometimes it's hard to keep myself entertained."
The Firekeeper looked at the skeleton with a slight grin. The pony was an earth pony and the snout was much larger than a mare's skull. A giant crack went down the left side, right through the massive eye hole. The warrior also looked at the skeleton but without the amusement the mare obviously had.
"I named him Fred," the mare chuckled. "He was like this when I arrived here. I named all the skeletons in this place," she frowned and sighed. "It's been lonely."
The warrior took a seat on the other side of the skeleton. "If you can name these bones, cannot you name me? I would like a name."
The Firekeeper hesitated. "That's different. You're not dead. Fred is as dead as they get. He won't even come back hollow. He's a pile of worthless bones, you're still breathing and walking. You have a name and you can remember it. You will remember it. I think you should keep trying to remember it instead of me simply giving you one that isn't really yours."
"Then what shall you call me?"
"A Chosen Undead, Hero. You are special, this is no doubt. Maybe you'll earn a name on your journeys."
"Oh?" the warrior chuckled. "You think that I am going somewhere?"
The Firekeeper frowned in confusion. "Of course. Your work is far from finished. Chosen Undead, there is a world out there that needs to be saved. It needs a sign of Hope. The Fire is fading and it threatens extinction to us all when it finally dies out," her voice lowered. "When the Fire dies, that's when the Darkness takes over. I know little about it, but I know it's not good for Equestria. We need to rekindle the flames."
"All I hear from you is gibberish," the warrior grunted. "Do you actually know what you are talking about?"
The Firekeeper close her mouth before muttering something. "I'm not an expert..."
"That seems clear," the warrior said and stood up from the chair. "The only thing I understand is my thirst for souls."
"And you shall have your fill," the Firekeeper stood up as well. "Listen, across the village from here is a path that runs sharply downhill. If you need a place to start, that's where would I suggest. There is another sane undead along that road as well and she...she is less enthusiastic than me, but she can help you."
The warrior walked out of the house. "I will meet her then. Do you have any of that liquid for me to take on my trip?"
The Firekeeper shook her head. "I would hate to give you more unless you needed it. With the zebras long gone, it's hard to come by. I wish I knew how to make it myself."
The warrior started on her way, but stopped near the small fire in the middle of the village. She was forgetting something. Trying to recall what she was forgetting, she looked down at her hooves. They still possessed the old chain mail and she still had the pauldron on her shoulder. That's it! She did not have her helmet. She turned around to look at the Firekeeper.
"Where did you place my helmet and sword?" she asked.
"The helmet? I threw that piece of garbage away," the mare answered.
"What?" the warrior snarled.
"It was broken after the fight. The visor was detached from the rest of the helmet and it had several cracks in it. It was not going to protect you any longer. As for your sword, it's by the statue of the pegasus. If I were you, I would get a new blade as soon as possible."
"Perhaps..." the warrior muttered to herself before walking over to the statue. The pegasus was flying, but the wings fell off a long time ago. The remains were at the base of the statue sitting in grass and thick moss. The warrior reached over to take hold of the sword in its sheath. The old leather sagged as she wrapped it over her shoulder.
The Firekeeper stepped out of the house and leaned on a statue of a unicorn. "You be careful out there. Earth ponies don't last long in Equestria these days."
"I think I'm capable."
The Firekeeper breathed through her nose thoughtfully. "I hope so. Just don't let your victory go to your head and please do not go hollow out there. Keep your purpose in mind and keep Hope. If you don't, you'll be just another mindless pony wandering the landscape until eternity's end. It's the only way to not be a hollowed pony."
The warrior raised a brow. "Rather dramatic, wouldn't you say?"
"All my time being here has made me more poetic," the Firekeeper simply shrugged.
The warrior adjusted the straps on her armor and finished her preparations for departure. She turned back to see the Firekeeper sitting on a log next to the fire, kicking her back legs up in the air playfully while whistling a familiar tune. The warrior couldn't help but smile, moving her dying lips into the shape of a grin.
"Farewell, good Firekeeper," the warrior bowed.
"You can come back at any time," the mare returned with a smile. "I'll be here or by one of the nearby fires. You better stay alive. I want to hear about your upcoming adventures."
"Heh, will do," the warrior chuckled and turned to leave.
It was hard to leave the village as both the Firekeeper and the flame's relaxing aura called to her to stay near. However, there was no hesitation from the warrior as she walked past the last homes and found the path the Firekeeper spoke about. Like she described, the trail did go down a steep hill and into the thick woods. She took her first steps on this unknown path and speedily went down the hill.
The soothing auras faded with distance and she was alone once more. The sounds of the wilderness soon engulfed her. In her mind, she felt ready for any challenge ahead. For could anything be worse than the centaur? Not likely, she thought. So with confidence and energy, she started her trek on a new journey. Where was its end? She did not know. It was her task to find out.
The warrior slid down a rocky slope, scraping some of her rags off from her legs. With a violent grunt, she dusted herself off and looked at the new scratches on her ankles in frustration. The trail was hardly a trail at all and full of hazards. She popped her crooked neck after taking such a hard ride down the rough slop. Dust was all up in the air around her, making her cough disgustingly as if it was a cough that would kill a living pony.
"That friend of the Firekeeper better be nearby," the warrior growled.
With her sword dragging loudly along the ground, she marched through the thick brush and piles of dead branches to stay along the overgrown trail. Without her helmet, she had to make sure the low boughs full of thorns did not sratch her face. More than once she tripped and fell to the ground to get back up with a frustrated curse at something she was not sure actually existed. The only objects that she cursed that she knew were real were the blinding sun and the gloomy moon that simultaneously watched her from the still heavens.
The warrior shoved some brush out of her way to be relieved to see that the path was becoming wider. Parts of ruins started to be more common as she went along. Their mossy stone edges dotted the landscape between the giant trees and the invasive shrubbery. Some of them had carvings in them of ponies in armor and winged unicorns leading them. The warrior understood none of them and looked at them with only mild interest. If they were not going to aid her in her journey, she did not need to pay them any attention.
The feeling of souls soon returned to her. Something ahead was full of them, but there was nothing soothing or inviting about it. With the sensation, the warrior pressed on at a faster pace. Arches and cobblestone started to appear, turning the gooey sounds of the wet moss under her hooves to steady clicks of the drier stone.
Then it came into view. It was what appeared like an outdoor theater with several stone steps in the shape of a semicircle. At the base where the stage would be was a small flame like the one she had left, and like all of them, the fire was all but gone. The warrior approached the theater from the stage side. The stone stage was far more damaged than the seats. At some time this was a place of plays and concerts, but it was incredibly silent now.
The warrior spotted a lone pony sitting on the steps. By the size and shape, she could tell the pony was a mare. The mare was covering her face, but her mane, as black as ebony, flowed almost elegantly in the light wind. She wore armor of an elaborate sort complete with shiny golden pauldrons, blue drapes, and bright golden shoes for the hooves that she buried her face in. From the ears, the warrior could tell that the pony had gray fur.
"Hello?" the warrior called out to the pony.
Without a word, the mare looked up slowly, revealing a beautiful face with vibrant pink eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The mare was by far the most fair creature the warrior had seen yet. The only thing that ruined such a face was the deep frown that told a story of horror and sadness. It was such a striking expression that the warrior stopped in her tracks.
"You seem to have your wits about you, warrior," the mare said. "And that's despite the rotting flesh on your bones. If you didn't speak, I would think you were bloody hollow."
"Are you a friend of the Firekeeper at Hollow Shades?" the warrior asked.
"'Friend' is a loose term, but perhaps in this world we are. Let me guess, she thinks you're the savior of Equestria?"
"In a sense,"
"Of course. Please warrior, there's an open seat next to me. Sit down and rest."
The warrior nodded her head and walked by the small fire to the steps. The mare watched her with little interest and her frown remained stagnant on her face. As she approached, she felt the souls within the mare. However, there was something else in her that had its own feeling. The Firekeeper also felt this way, but not this prominent.
The warrior sat down next to the mare, who did not look at her. Together they stared downward at the fire at the front of the stage. The creaking trees around them and the whispers of the wind were the sounds until the mare spoke up again.
"My name is Octavia. I hail from Ponyville, though I used to live in Canterlot," she said.
"I have no name. Well, not one that I can remember."
The mare nodded. "As usual. You must've popped up from the Ashen Wastelands. Deceased warriors keep springing up from there in some mad fashion. Most of them lack any wits and simply wander about, moaning like an average noble pony from Canterlot. I-ugh, you are foul! Move over a seat or two!" Octavia swung her hoof in the air and covered her nostrils.
The warrior was confused for a second, but obliged by scooting away from the mare. "I can't help but notice that you and I do not share this rotting flesh. Why are you not like me?"
"Because I'm not an inch from becoming hollow, that's why. I did not go and get myself killed a hundred times over in the battles with the griffons. I'm no where near becoming hollow and so I show no signs of becoming a mindless husk of dead flesh."
"The Firekeeper says something about Hope-"
"Load of bollocks, that all is," Octavia jumped in. "Hope and no Hope is nothing but hogwash. There is not such thing as Hope, not in this world. Look around you, there's nothing worth saving. Even this place, a place where I performed countless times with my cello, is nothing but ruins and a Celestia-forsaken dump. I'll tell you right now, everything that the Firekeeper, that Sunset Shimmer, told you is nothing but a lie. She just wants to think she still has a bloody purpose in this world."
"Then what's your purpose?"
"By Tartarus, I don't have one. I used to be a great cellist. A pony that had fans in every demographic. The curse fell upon us and then I lost everything. Everything...including my best friend. The world is done, it has ended and we still alive are just too stubborn to admit it. Warrior, don' try to be a hero. You will fail and you will die horribly at the claws of the monsters around us. I have accepted this fact and I'll stay here until, well, I become hollow. Maybe being mindless is not so bad after all. The mindless don't know sadness or fear."
"Well you do that," the warrior huffed. "I don't see myself doing that. I have the dying body and yours is just fine and look at our attitudes. You never answered my question about obtaining a body that isn't rotting or as smelly as mine."
"You want to know?" Octavia raised a brow.
"Yes."
"Well, there are ways to get your body back. It's called Spirit, though most call it Harmony. Ponies run and operate on Harmony. That's why the Elements of Harmony were so important to us all those years ago. Well, after the curse, Harmony became something corporeal, something of monetary value. It kept you from becoming a hollow like the other species. The griffons and even the dragons went fully hollow before Equestrians did. It's because of Harmony. You can get Harmony by feeding the flames like the little one over there. They don't burn with wood, but with Hope and Harmony, though I still don't believe in the former. I've never been sure what you give it to have it bless you with Harmony, but I've done it. You can also steal Harmony from other ponies who possess it. Now don't get any ideas, trying to kill me isn't going to help you. I'll kill you long before you could even react."
"So I need Harmony?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll get it."
There's a third way too..."
"What would that be?"
Octavia shook her head with a sigh. "By taking an Element of Harmony. The Elements contain so much Harmony and all. They have been drained though. They aren't the same as before. However, if you ever get your hooves on one, keep it. I'm sure it'll help you along the way."
The warrior thought about this. Every mention of the Elements of Harmony made her memories shake. They were something significant, but she could not remember what they exactly were. With a sigh, she rubbed her temple.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"Eh, nothing that will help your sorry lot. I know you warriors. You get out of the grave, raise Tartarus for a day, and then get killed by the beasts of Equestria to get back up as a hollow. It's always the same. I'm sure you think you're tough for reaching even here. That centaur took up the waterfalls and I presume you killed him. I say good on you, lassie, but that's where the glory ends. Beyond here is a tunnel. A large cave of sorts. It's the reason this place is called Cavern's Rest. It's a pass that goes underneath the mountains to the southwest. Well, it's a straight forward path, but riddled with beasts: manticores, chimera, and even a hydra. If you're such a mighty warrior, then this shouldn't be a problem for your ilk. Yeah, keep that bloody thought real close to you when one of the claws rips your body into little pieces. And beyond that? Ruins and ruins and forests full of death. This little town may be the most peaceful place in Equestria. It's why I don't leave. What better place to sit down and watch your whole life simply wash away and wait until you eventually lose your Harmony and turn into a hollow? I think I chose wisely. Eh heh he he!"
She finished with a weak and dry laugh. The laugh made the warrior uneasy and so she slid a little farther away from the black-maned mare. Octavia laughed a little longer before stopping the chuckling short when she realized she was doing it so creepily. Her wild grin was returned to its usual frown. She took a breath and looked once again at the empty stage.
"Is it really that futile?" the warrior asked.
"I don't know," was the only answer.
The warrior rolled her eyes at the stubbornness of he mare. "Well then, I'll be on my way then," the warrior stood up and patted some dust from her armor. "Guess I'll find you here often."
"Nah, if you somehow clear the cavern of creatures, I'll follow you," Octavia said quietly.
"Oh? Just let me do all the hard work?" the warrior raised a disappointed brow.
"If you can't do it by yourself, there is no chance you can be the true hero of this tale."
The warrior snorted and shook her head. "Fine."
The warrior said some more words under her breath before walking up the rest of the amphitheater's steps. Octavia swallowed hard and returned her face to her hooves. She shifted her body to watch the warrior depart without removing her head from her legs. She could only pity the warrior who had such false confidence.
The warrior climbed over a large rock, using what little light she had from the tunnel's entrance. This cave seemed to have no end as it went straight forward into darkness. It was at this time she wished she had brought a torch with her as she began to trip on the sharp stones and uneven floors. Each displaced pebble rung echoes up to the high ceilings. If there were beasts in the cave, they already knew she was here.
The insufferable heat quickly diminished into surprisingly cool still air. It was actually a pleasant change of temperature. The warrior carried on down into the darkness, always on the alert for anything that wished for her death. So far nothing could be heard except her own noises. The silence was indeed ominous, but it did not deter the warrior in the slightest.
She soon came up upon a pony-made bridge. It was wooden and not in great shape, but the alternative route included a black pit that one could not see the bottom of. There was some sort of divide in the cave that caused this crevasse. The warrior stopped before the wide bridge, carefully testing the first step.
"Seems sturdy..." she commented.
With her whole weight on the bridge, it creaked once, but held firm. With the little light she possessed, she cautiously made her way across. About halfway, her hoof met dead flesh. She paused and focused her eyes on the wood. There was not just one body, but many stacked on each other They were piled up as if it was a wall that prevented the bridge from being crossed. All the bodies were ponies in armor. The warrior put her front legs on the pile and pushed with all her might. To her surprise, the bodies were far heavier than she had expected. Being an earth pony, she was not going to let an object be too heavy for her natural strength. So she slammed her shoulder into it again and again. The pile, instead of being knocked over, wobbled in a rubbery manner. None of the bodies fell off the pile.
The warrior then searched for an individual body to shove off. She found legs, heads, and torsos, but something was wrong. There seemed to be no body loose from the pile. Their rotten skins were attached to each other as if fused together. The warrior's eyes bulged out as she found the wall of bodies to be one entity of dead, decaying matter.
To make matters worse, the mass of corpses started to move. Hooves were being put to the ground and the mass was turning itself around. The heads of the dead ponies began to groan and their mouths hung open. There was no front or back of the hideous creature as all the bodies seemingly acted as their own mind. The rattling of the armored ponies was by far the loudest noise in the black cave.
"What are you?" the warrior gagged as she looked at the corpses before her.
It made no reply, but came closer to her by moving all its legs in a centipede-like manner. With it taking up the whole bridge, the warrior had no choice but to back away from the beast of bodies. She pulled her sword out and readied for a fight. The pile of bodies growled at this and begun to fling its many legs about and gnash with its many sets of decaying teeth.
"Wah!"
The warrior charged and stabbed the moving corpse with her sword. The blade easily sliced through the dead corpses, but the creature did not even react to it. A wild leg struck the warrior on the skull, making her retreat from the corpse pile. She looked at her blade for the marks of blood, but the bodies were so rotten that there was nothing on the sword except a few scrapes of white flesh.
The corpse kept crawling forward. The bodies at the bottom of the pile were being constantly crushed by the legs from above. More than one head was stomped into waste by the haste the pile made. It was an unholy sight to behold. The warrior flung her sword at it again, chopping some legs and heads off with one clean swipe. Once again, it was as if nothing happened to the corpse pile.
The warrior backed away and paused. There was something off by this, even by the standards she was now accustomed to. She could not feel any souls in the pile. They were not hollow ponies. They felt no pain because they were not of the living. Something else was controlling them. A being that could reanimate corpses at will. This thing possessed no souls, it was not worth her time, she concluded.
She put her sword back in its sheath. She then scratched the ground with her hoof. A violent snort came from her nostrils. With a great jump, she leaped onto the pile of corpses and landed on the top. The legs of the creature tried to grab her, but she was quick to jump off again on the other side of it. It was too slow to catch her and the groans of the dead ponies wailed.
"Nice knowing ya!" she saluted the pile.
With the creature out of her way, she easily crossed the bridge. She made sure she went quickly to put as much distance between her and it as possible. The possibility of seeing it again made her shiver.
As she continued down the cave, she could not help but wonder about the pile. What being could have done something like that? It was a haunting thought. The aspect of a being out there that was reanimating all the corpses was one the warrior did not look forward to. She could only shake her head clean of the thoughts and move onward through the darkening cavern.
"I guess I'll have to find that out..."
The obstacle in her way was a flight of steep steps carved from the cave's floor. Each step was almost as tall as she was. With effort, she started to climb upward. For some reason, there this part was not as dark as behind her. Something at the top of the stairs was emitting light. This made her heart leap with excitement. She started to climb the stairs faster. With every step ascended, the soothing feeling of fire was growing stronger.
"Fire....Souls...."
She had to squint her eyes as the light from the top met her. Just a few more steps stood in her way. It was arduous work to climb them. She placed her front legs over the last step and pulled herself up and over. The first thing she saw was the sword stuck in the stone and the fire around it. The second thing she saw was the hollowed ponies that kneeled in humble submission around the fire as if they were praying to it. Two hollows walked around the fire holding torches in their wings.
One hollow looked up and saw the warrior. With a wild scream, it alerted the other praying hollows. The hollows all turned to look at her with their white, pupil-less eyes. The rotten ponies dug their hooves deep into the cave's floor and stood up, making vile grunts and hisses all the while.
The warrior pulled her sword out. They had no weapons, not even knives or daggers. They did not wear armor like all the other hollows she had seen, but reddish robes with hoods. Only two unicorns were in the group as the rest were earth and pegasus ponies. The unicorns stepped backwards as the other hollows swiftly charged the warrior.
The warrior swung her sword and chopped through the hollows. They tried to rip her apart with their hooves, but she did well to keep them at bay. The pegasi with the torches swung the fire at her, but met the same fate as the others. Souls were being quickly consumed by the warrior as she sliced their heads or any decaying body part from the ponies. It was a bloody mess and the floor was now full of corpses.
The warrior was struck by a bolt of magic. She tumbled over onto the stone. The unicorns in the back were charging up more spells to throw her way. The magic had hit her in the shoulder, leaving a burned spot on her armor. The pain she felt made her furious. She stood up and sliced through the remaining ponies in her way before violently charging the unicorns. Her sword went deep into one unicorn's chest, making it scream before dying. The other unicorn fired an icy spell, but the warrior dodged it and attacked the hollow swiftly to end the skirmish. As the last unicorn fell to the ground in black blood, the warrior looked over at the newly made mess.
"Damn this cave..."
She walked over to one of the torches. The fire was not soothing. It was a natural flame and not fueled with Hope. However, it gave her light in the darkness, and she could not ask for more. Using the robes from the hollows, she made a holder for the torch and attached it to her side. Her vague memories told her that there were better ways to hold a torch, but without wings or magic, she could not think of a better way at the moment.
The warrior sat at the ember of the First Flame. Just like the other fires, it relieved her of any tiredness she possessed. The pain in her shoulder from the magic was healed by the embers. The fires begged her to stay and rest. Perhaps it was this calling that kept the hollows near it for maybe hundreds of years.
"I can't stay here," the warrior told it. "You have helped me and I appreciate that, but I must reach the end of this cave."
The warrior reached her hoof into the small flames. It jumped up to reach the hoof. The fires were hot to the touch, but the warrior did not remove her hoof despite the pain. The soothing feeling was greater than the pain and that was what counted.
The warrior stood up with a sigh. She adjusted the torch on her side and inspected her sword before marching forward towards the dark of the cave. This cave was not endless, she could reach the end. All she needed to do was not stop. Continue or go hollow. Never stop or go hollow.
The warrior sat down and looked around. At the edges of the torch's light were walls of rock that had no ceiling. She had been walking so long and in her mind it was impossible to retrace her steps. The feeling of the small flames were gone and forgotten. It was a bitter loneliness that she now fought. The darkness was a foreboding obstacle she now faced. Being so deep in the cave, she predicted that if she did not have the torch, she would not even be able to see her own muzzle.
The cave increased in noises as she went on. Outside of the torch's light, water dripping from the ceiling and the flow of a small cave creek could be heard. It was an almost peaceful sound to break the eerie silence. The warrior could only catch glimpses of the dripping waters as they reflected the light from the torch.
The cave continued on in a rather boring straightness. It seemed like an endless hallway. Was she going in circles? Was the cavern just this long? The thoughts and lonely thinking were just as taxing on your strength as the endless walking she did.
With her head hanging low, she walked right into a stalagmite. Her ears rung with the collision and she was wide awake as ever. Without her helmet, the solid pile of minerals gave her a mighty headache.
"Must've dozed off," she uttered. Can't do that again. I'll fall off a cliff or be eaten by something.
She looked at the stalagmite. It wasn't pointed or sharp, but on top of it was a corpse of a unicorn pony. It had no flesh on it and was a pure skeleton. It wore armor, but the armor was much cleaner and decorated than anything she had seen. This pony was of a high rank and of a prestigious military group. Its armor was bright gold with blue trimmings along the sides. The helmet had no visor, but instead a large guard for the muzzle and cheeks. A tall blue crest rose from the crown of the helmet.
The chest piece was centered with a faded blue star. Something was familiar about the star. The warrior peered closer at it. Shockingly enough, it retained enough shine for her to see her own reflection in it. A memory was close to her, agonizingly close. She knew full well what this soldier was for the land of Equestria. She just simply had to remember it.
"You're a Royal Guard," she said. "I remember this much. The Royal Guards...who were they? Someone I knew dearly was a Royal Guard. I know this to be true." She continued to stare at it. "I know this to be true," she repeated. "Love, I think of love when I see this. Why? It makes no sense."
She sat down and rubbed her chin. "Can't even remember my own name, how can I remember what a Royal Guard did? It's preposterous."
The warrior cocked her head. "However, I do need a helmet. This one looks my size, thank the Sun for that."
She stood back up and put her hoofs on the helmet. It was so smooth and well-made. She could almost taste the flawless Equestrian steel with her rotten hooves alone. She knew she feeling well. It was dear to her. The familiar sensation almost brought her to tears. Her breathing became quick and uneven.
"You're back from your watch early, my love. I was going to surprise you with supper. Just the two of us tonight..."
"Who said that?" the warrior gasped.
She looked around to see nothing. The voice was masculine and full of charm. Her heart raced as her eyes dashed about. There was no sound, no utterance of noise to compete with her loud breathing. She then looked at the skull of the deceased unicorn.
"Did you say that?" she asked it.
The skull made no reply.
"I'm going mad," she gulped. "Is this how it feels to go hollow? I must get on my way."
She plucked the helmet off the skull and put it on her head. It did not exactly match the rest of her armor, but she did not care. She felt the need to salute the dead Royal Guard before going on past it.
The skeleton was the first of many to appear. Piles of armor and bone were shoved to the sides of the cavern. The armors of Royal Guards and other pony factions were stuffed together in mass graves. The warrior also spotted the remains of large creatures among the ponies. Rib cages large enough to fit six or seven ponies were acting as archways for the warrior to traverse under.
Then the bodies ceased to be. It was as sudden as a cliff's edge. The bones and corpses were stopped by an invisible line in the ground. The warrior took note of this with suspicion. After this line was clean dirt and rock where the walls of the cave went away from each other to greatly widen the cavern's passage. And for the first time in seemingly ages, the warrior saw natural light.
The cavern had turned into a circular room with a gaping hole in the ceiling. The moonlight streamed in with heavenly grace. It was still dark, greatly so, as one could not see the other side of the circular room. The moonlight gazed upon a large beast that presently stared it back. It was a lion with wings and a massive tail. A manticore. The large beast simply looked up through the ceiling's hole.
"Octavia was right about beasts," the warrior whispered to herself.
The manticore instantly turned its head to look at her. Fierce eyes glowed in the small amount of light, making the monster appear even more demonic than its concoction of body parts. It snarled, showing massive fangs.
The warrior placed her teeth on the handle of her sword and drew it. The beast held souls that called out to her. It was a vile presence that lacked sympathy or mercy. Feeling the souls of the beast was much like smelling a repulsive smell. It made the warrior grimace.
The manticore roared loudly and charged at the warrior. With swiftness, the warrior evaded the wild charge and jumped to safety. She readied herself, but before she even turned around to face the beast, the manticore was almost above her and a massive paw smacked her squarely on the side, sending her flying across the cavern floor.
Her torch flew out and fell harmlessly between the beast and her. She tried to stand up, but her legs wobbled. She planted her sword in the ground for support and lifted herself up as quick as she could. The manticore was running for her.
With little time to spare, dove towards the beast. The manticore leaped as well. The beast flew over the warrior and crashed into the cavern wall, making rock fall from the ceiling. The warrior stood up and pointed her sword at the creature. The beast wildly slammed the wall again in clear anger.
It turned around to have its long scorpion tail swing for the warrior. The warrior jumped out of its destructive path. The manticore roared again, sending vile spit over the warrior. She shook it off and stayed determined against the monster.
The warrior took several steps back. The manticore lowered its body into an almost pouncing position. Its rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the moonlight. The bat wings on its back flapped up and down but were unable to give the beast flight. The scorpion tail waved back on forth in anticipation of killing another pony.
"What a hideous piece of creation," the warrior spat.
The beast, three times her size, leaped at her once more. The warrior expected this and rolled forward. Her sword went up and stabbed the beast severely in the side. Blood poured out and over the warrior's face.
The beast growled in pain and grabbed her with its paw. It proceeded to chuck her across the room and into the cavern's wall. The collision was powerful enough to separate the sword from her mouth. She bounced off the stone and fell to the floor with her head ringing and her jaw shaking.
She looked up to see the beast still fighting. She had only angered it with the wound. Unlike Tirek, it appeared unaffected by the gushing blood that now covered the floor under it. With passion only an animal can generate, the beast went after her again.
She reached for her sword, but the beast reached her first. It slammed her into the wall and then followed up with a swipe of the tail. She skidded across the ground and ended up in the rays of the moonlight.
"Must keep fighting..."
She turned to see her torch was almost in reach. With desperation, she crawled towards it. The monster charged at her. She picked the torch up in her mouth and bit on it tightly. The beast scooped her up in its jaws and lifted her up to rip her apart.
The monster began to shake its head back and forth. Its teeth started to bite through her armor, but she did not dare scream and lose the torch in her mouth. With her strength, she dug the torch into the monster's eyes. It instantly let go of her and ran off in fright. As she tried to recover from her new wounds, the monster cried in a corner of the room opposite her.
The warrior took this opportunity to retrieve her blade. Instead of putting the torch down, she picked up the sword with her hooves, even though it was not designed her this. She had to use both of her tools against the manticore. So she clumsily tried to stand up on her back legs. If she was at full strength, she perhaps could have achieved this, but the aches and pains prevented her from standing up in such a manner.
"Damn unicorns! Designing everything for themselves," she yelled with the torch still in her mouth.
The beast finally turned around to face the warrior. The wounded eye was black and shut; clearly blinded by the fire. The warrior knew her time was short and dropped her sword. She was going to fight with fire alone. So she readied herself and even stamped her hoof into the ground.
The manticore, in a fit of rage, came after her, swiping its paws and its tail about madly. The warrior dodged these endless attacks and with every opportunity, singed the monster's fur and igniting its proud lion's mane. The fight continued in this manner for some time. The beast could not hit the warrior properly and the warrior fought back with her torch.
The beast rolled over to snuff the flames on its back and belly. The rancid smell of burning fur and skin filled the cavern's air. One ear on the monster was completely burned up. One leg was bare of fur and swollen. However, the warrior was tiring and the beast showed no signs of stopping.
With a late reaction, the warrior was knocked over by a tail swipe. She held onto the torch, but the pain in her ribs made her pause before getting up. The beast was fighting through all its pain, why couldn't she? This thought made her curse. She dug her hooves into the ground and tried to stand up.
It was a futile attempt as the beast only knocked her farther away. She forced herself up. The voices in her head told her repeatedly to not go hollow. She couldn't give up here. She can't give up.
Standing up once again, she backed away from the manticore. She then fell over as she tripped on her own sword that had been laying there for most of the battle. The fight could not go one like this. She had to stop it. Her mind started to race with ideas about killing the monster that still approached her.
"You are not going to have me, beast. Not like those piles of bones. Your reign here ends!"
She valiantly threw the torch at the beast, striking it on the nose. It jumped back in fright from the flames. She then swung her sword at one of its legs, creating an awful gash that allowed more beast blood to come out. It reacted by smacking her into the wall. She clutched her chest as there was not one spot on her body that did not feel immense pain. The monster then pinned her up against the wall with its only good paw and brought its roaring head towards her.
When its mouth was almost on her, she gave a mighty jab that made the sword's tip rip through the ceiling of the beast's wide open mouth. It gave a high-pitched squeal that echoed off the cavern walls. Blood rushed all over the warrior as she dug it deeper and deeper into the beast's head. It still tried to snap its jaws on her, but by doing so it only damaged itself the more.
With little strength left, the monster let her go and took some uneven steps away. It was still alive, but the blood in its mouth made it cough and gag terribly. The warrior did not pity the dying creature. It was a monster that she had to slay. Only using three legs to walk as she still held her chest with the fourth hoof, she walked over to the manticore. It made no sounds other than its gagging and spitting up of crimson blood that shined so beautifully in the moonlight. She lifted her sword and stabbed it into the side of the manticore's head. It twitched crazily and almost took another swipe at her, but it could not live long and perished with the sword's blade halfway through its brain.
"You shall not pray upon anypony else, beast," the warrior said in its ear.
Her teeth took hold of the sword's handle and she forcefully pulled the sword back out. As she did so, the souls consumed by the beast traveled into her own body. As each one entered her, the body of the beast began to disappear much like Tirek's corpse. It was a satisfying sensation that brought back life and energy to the warrior. Her wounds no longer ached as much and she felt like she could fight the monster again, but only psychically.
With the beast gone, she put the torch back in its holder and sheathed her still bloody sword. With a long sigh, she went over to one side of the room, opposite where she had entered. With the torchlight and the moonlight, she saw that there was a shut door before her. She placed her hooves on each side and opened it. Loud creaking noises echoed through the air as the iron doors were opened.
On the other side was grass, trees, and life. This was the end of the passage. This relieved her greatly. She had missed the green world. To her, it was a just reward for what she had just accomplished. She stepped out and admired the scenery.
With a look back at the iron door from her new perspective, she saw that there was a wooden sign posted on it. It was rotten and had signs of once being painted with bright white. However, there were words written on it painted in startling red. She took a step closer to read it in the moonlight. Its words were simple, but intriguing.
The area south of the mountains was a large swamp. It was the liveliest place the warrior had seen thus far as it was even inhabited by insects and other vermin. She had to constantly swipe her short tail and wave her hooves to keep the bugs off her. The rats, muskrats, and other creatures appeared just as undead as she did. Their rotten hides scrambled away from her whenever she approached them. She was happy that at least one thing was not trying to kill her.
It did not take long for her to find another ember of the First Flame. With all the tingling souls in the swamp, it was a bit difficult to decipher which one of them was a fire and which one was a frog or bird. However, she did single one out and followed a small trail to the small flame that was located at an intersection of three other trails. With how there were wooden benches and the bushes were cleared in a circle. It was obvious this was some resting place for travelers on the weary road.
She touched the flame and it grew like always. It made her smile and she sat down next to it. The sounds of the wetlands were loud and distracting, but she could not be upset at it. The cave was dark, lonely, and silent; the very opposite of this boisterous bog. She welcomed the noise now.
Since the sky refused to change, she could not tell what time it was or how long she had been sitting there. One half bright with the sun, the other half dark with the silver moon. She knew this was not normal for Equestria, despite not remembering how it was before she pulled herself out of the ash.
She pulled her helmet off and looked at it. Once again, it forced her to try to remember her past. This helmet meant something to her. It was of unspeakable value, but she could not remember why this was the case. All she could do was stare into the helmet and see her own hideous reflection.
"Chosen Undead, are you well?" a familiar voice asked.
"What? Who's there?" the warrior looked about.
"Look at the fire."
The warrior did so and saw the Firekeeper's face be formed by the small flames. She blinked in confusion at first, but then stood up and raised a brow.
"How are you doing that?" she asked.
"It is an ability we Firekeepers know. Um, are there any enemies about?" she gently asked and her head turned in every direction.
"No, the swamp tingles with souls, but nothing hostile."
The Firekeeper smiled. "Good, I'll be right there."
The warrior was about to ask what she meant, but she immediately found out. The Firekeeper's head was becoming solid and soon legs and her robes were being created by the flames. Like pulling oneself out of mud, the Firekeeper pulled her body out of the flames. At first, the warrior thought she was an illusion of some sort, but it was apparent that she was absolutely real. She watched Sunset's full body and clothes come forth from the flame and soon the Firekeeper was standing in front of her as if she had been there the whole time.
The warrior was flabbergasted. "But how?"
The Firekeeper giggled. "Oh it's nothing. The embers are connected to each other as they all came from the same source. They are connected through Hope and Harmony. With that, one can teleport from one ember to another, though only if the flame is doing well. It takes plenty of energy for a teleport, that's why the fire is not as tall as before. One cannot do it over and over again unless she can feed it well. You can do it as well. Well, you can't do the face thing I did. Only Firekeepers can do that."
"Then why are you here? There must be more reason than just to say hello," the warrior frowned.
"Oh, cheer up," the Firekeeper nudged her. "You should be glad I visit you. Oh alright, here's why I'm here. I was at the Hollow Shades like usual and I felt your soul go through immense pain. I knew you were in trouble. I felt this many times in previous undead heroes. Their soul grows and grows in its final moments before being consumed by another being. It's like adrenaline. Well, I felt this in you and I thought you had died. However, your soul was never snuffed out, so I knew you succeeded. I wanted to make sure you were doing well. You ignited this fire and I took the opportunity to check on you."
"Well, that's considerate of you. I fought with a manticore. A large one that guarded the end of the cavern like a watchdog."
"I know the manticore well," the Firekeeper nodded. "He was tamed by the Fluttershy, the Bearer of Kindness."
"'Tamed?' There were mass graves before I met the beast. He had eaten all those poor ponies, I know it."
"Most likely yes," the Firekeeper sat down on one of the benches. "The Bearers are not like they were before. This curse has turned them into creatures much worse than hollow ponies. I actually knew Fluttershy...in a way. She was shy and gentle. She always needed someone to help her up otherwise she would be too scared to do it herself, heh. Yeah, she's nothing like that now. I would not be surprised if she made her manticore devour Celestia's soldiers."
"There was another thing in there. It was moving mass of corpses. Something as grotesque as imaginable. I couldn't kill it and had to run past it."
"Never heard of such a thing. This land is twisted. The undead curse does much more than make ponies undead. It can do some disgusting things and it's just..." she didn't finish and instead shuttered. "The curse needs to be lifted. You need to rekindle the flames and start a new era. It's the only way."
The warrior looked at the fire again. "Your friend, Octavia doesn't think so. At least, not from how she spoke."
"Octavia is as stubborn as a mule. Don't believe everything she tells you. Needless to say, she's been through a lot and is not willing to accept anything positive these days."
The warrior looked at the ground thoughtfully. "I guess so."
"Oh, and I brought more of that drink," the Firekeeper said and with her magic, pulled out a little jar of the sour drink.
"Thank goodness," the warrior grinned and took the jar quickly.
She did not hesitate to start drinking it. One gulp after the other. Lots of the liquid seeped through the rotten holes in her cheeks, sliding down onto her armor. This made the Firekeeper visibly gag at how disgusting the display was. The liquid was soon finished and the warrior sadly gazed upon the now empty jar.
"Any more?" the warrior asked but knew what the answer would be.
"No," the Firekeeper shook her head. "There are only a few jars and bottles left in Hollow Shades. The only way I can get more if you find me some zebras."
"Do you know where they are?"
"Of course not. I've never left Equestria to visit the other nations. I don't know if they are north, south, east, or west. Though there was one living in Ponyville, which is far west of here under the shadow of Canterlot."
"Canterlot...that's where I need to go, isn't it?"
"The First Flame lies within the top of Canterlot's mountain. It's one of the highest peaks in Equestria. If you are to rekindle the First Flame, you will need to climb to that very peak. Don't worry; I have faith in you, Chosen Undead."
"Then it shall be done," the warrior stood up and threw the empty bottle away in a bush.
"Before you head out, I think I need to tell you this. This is Hayseed Swamp, a massive bog that used to be well south of here. As you see, it's gotten much bigger. Um, Fluttershy made this place into a refuge way back and it housed plenty of ponies and animals. She made a church called the Church of Kindness and it is along this trail here. I believe she is still in this church."
"Is this a warning?" the warrior raised a brow.
"Yes, it very much is a warning. Be safe, Chosen Undead. I wish you well and I'll return to Hollow Shades. Be free to visit me through the teleportation."
The warrior only nodded without a sound. The Firekeeper took the silence as her time to leave. She walked over to the small embers and placed her hoof on the sword that marked the fire. Starting with her outstretched leg, her body began to peel off into ash. It kept going until her whole body was consumed and nothing was left but the ash and sparks that now flew into the air. The warrior watched curiously at the painful looking form of transportation. The Firekeeper uttered nothing and was gone in an almost graceful exit.
With the Firekeeper gone, the warrior adjusted her armor and began to walk down the path to go even deeper into the swamps. Each soggy step brought her closer to the green and black waters that went on in every direction. As she went on, she only now felt like she was too rough with the Firekeeper. Sunset Shimmer only meant well for her, right?
The warrior stopped and looked back, but the ember was out of sight by now. "She leads me on only in words though. She's a unicorn no? She has the abilities to use fire to display her image but she refuses to go along side me in this vague quest. Hm. I have to make sure I'm not some pawn of hers..."
~~~
The swamp, much like the cave, appeared to have no end. The trees in the murky waters grew taller and taller and the deepness of the swamp's pits grew deeper and deeper. There was no doubt she was heading towards the heart of the enormous bog. The birds in the branches sung loud songs to her. The frogs yelled at her when she passed them. Nothing but animals was around.
That was until she stopped to listen to the congested air. The groans of hollows could be heard ahead. This made her put her mouth on her sword's handle before going forward. She brushed aside a bush to see the hollows that were interrupting the more natural sounds of the swamp. The four ponies were in the same red robes as the ones she found in the cavern.
With no hesitation, she approached them. Unlike the cavern hollows, they did not turn to look at her. They all stared down the path and swayed their rotten heads back and forth as if listening to some melodic song. The warrior paused to try and listen to what they were hearing, but she heard nothing.
Even when she was directly behind a hollow, they did nothing but stay sitting and remain staring. The warrior brought her blade and shoved through a hollow's back, making it stick out of the chest. The hollow gave a pathetic groan before dying. She was expecting this to snap the other hollows out of their trance, but still they did not budge.
"What are you doing?" she harshly addressed the three remaining hollows.
When they did not respond, she looked down at the dead hollow. The warrior instantly noticed a large necklace on the hollow. She bent down and inspected it by lifting it in her hoof. It was a pink gem in the shape of a butterfly. The warrior snapped the necklace off the dead hollow and sat down, looking intently at it. Just like the Royal Guard's helmet, she knew what this necklace symbolized.
"Kindness...this means kindness," she rubbed her temple. "I must be nearing the church."
"Kindness...!" the three hollows whispered into the air upon hearing her utter that precious word.
The warrior heeded their words. They were refugees that fled to the Church of Kindness. Well, at one time they were. The warrior slid the necklace into her armor to keep. Maybe it could bring luck.
"If Sunset's warning is true, I'll need all the luck in this world."
The warrior sat down on a fallen tree. She had been walking for an hour or two since leaving the Firekeeper's company. More and more dry land began to pop up, but it was still surrounded by an endless swamp. She twirled her sword's sharp tip in the mid, making a little round hole.
"I hope I'm not walking in circles," she said to herself and then paused. "I can't be. It all looks similar but not exact. I should mark the trees from now on."
With a grunt, she took her helmet off. It still rung with the eerie presence of memories. There was something she knew deep inside and all she needed to do was bring it up to the surface of her mind. She had still been wondering about why the helmet called to her so deeply ever since she found it in the cave. Not even the fight with the manticore could make her forget this tormenting feeling that all her answers were staring right at her, just begging to be noticed.
"What are you telling me?" she asked the helmet.
"Isn't it a peaceful night? It almost seems that we've been at peace this whole time. Not a single fight in the world right now. I want this feeling to last forever, you know? Hm, it won't last. If the world became that peaceful, we'd be out of a job."
"Oh! Not this again!" the warrior huffed. "I'm going more and more insane by the second!"
She threw the helmet on the ground, staining its gold finish with mud. The warrior instantly regretted her actions and got up from the fallen tree to retrieve the precious piece of armor. She picked it up and looked at herself in its reflection once more. She wanted to believe that the voice she kept hearing was a figment of her imagination, but she knew without a doubt that the voice was straight from her suppressed memories.
The warrior was about to put the helmet back on when she felt a large presence of souls fly by her. No sound was made, but the tingling was so strong that she dropped the helmet. Her eyes darted around. The terrible noises of the swamp were now silenced. She immediately wished the sounds to return as the sound of her own decaying breath brought shivers to her spine.
"Show yourself!" she barked, creating an echo that had no reply.
The souls remained around her. It was a presence she had never felt before. The souls felt like they were a part of the air itself, constantly moving and gliding through the trees and bushes. There was no order to them, no bodily arrangement. Could they be loose souls? She had never heard of such a thing, but with how they felt to her, she would believe it.
"I have fought a centaur and a great manticore! You are no match for me!" she yelled again.
This time, there was a reply. A slow, sarcastic clap rung through the air. There seemed to be no direction, no origin of the sound. The warrior felt sweat on her brow and pulled her sword up and front in defense. She had no corner to back into, so she kept turning in place.
"Bravo, you little warrior, you," said a mocking voice.
"Face me!" the warrior shouted.
"As you wish."
A rock in front of the warrior turned into a replica of her face. The warrior stood stunned by the action. It was simply her face on the surface of a mossy stone. She was confused by this, but held her ground.
"Is this a joke?" she asked.
"Well, I thought it was funny!" the voice said.
"Enough games! I am on a quest and you sir, are wasting my time."
"A quest? Well, why didn't you say so!"
The warrior's sword disappeared in a white flash and was replaced by a horrific snake-like monster. She screamed and let go of the sword creature, who fell to the ground. The creature stood up, showing itself to be much, much bigger than her. It was a mixture of many animal parts, but the main things were a goat-like head, a lion paw, a griffin claw, and brown furry body, a lizard foot, a goat's hoof, and a dragon's tail.
"Ah!" the warrior screamed. "Back! Get back!" she cried while flailing her legs.
"Oh come on! You've seen worse than me!" the monster rolled his eyes.
"Get back! Ge-"
"Be quiet, my dear," he shushed her. "I mean no direct harm. I am Discord, the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony. I love to visit these swamps once in a while."
"Give me my sword back!" the warrior snarled.
"It's very, very hard to find a pony that I can talk to," he sighed, "and the first one I meet in such a long time only cares about a crummy piece of metal. Give me a break. It's obvious you're not hollow, so act like it, hm?"
"Fine?" the warrior sat in an upright position and remained silent.
"Well now!" he slithered closer to her. "You mentioned that you are on a quest. How exciting! A pony that is willing to actually get up and do something? It's deliciously preposterous! What, pray tell, leads you through the Hayseed Swamps?"
"I am trying to rekindle the First Flame," she stated with uncertainty as she found her sword inside a tree trunk and pulled it out.
"Really?" he guffawed. "You can't be serious!"
She frowned at him. "What makes you doubt me?"
He paused and his face was directly in front of hers. "Well, for starters, you don't seem to be so selfless. I watched you stab that Follower of Kindness like he was nothing. I've been watching you ever since you left that fire on the trail. Oh yes, I saw you with dear little Sunset Shimmer, that cute but naive Firekeeper. You don't actually believe her, do you? She upholds you like you are the savior of Equestria, but all you want to do is kill and eat."
The warrior became annoyed with the draconequus. "What of it? She can be right. I will satisfy my hunger and I'll save this world. I do not want to live in this pit!"
He smiled. "You also don't want to be living in that rotten state, do you? You want to be a fully-fleshed pony again. From your determined look, of which on a normal pony would look absolutely adorable, I'd say that I'm right and that you know full well how to regain Harmony."
"I am heading to the Church of Kindness to kill the Bearer Fluttershy. Her Harmony will restore me."
Discord's smile disappeared. In a flash he appeared on a red couch that was floating above the swampy earth. With a scowl, he laid himself across the couch.
"You want to do what?" he said lowly.
The warrior stood up and began to walk away. "This has nothing to do with you. You are wasting my time!"
"I wouldn't go to the church if I were you," he said after her.
"Enough with the warnings. I've fought beasts and centaurs! What is one pony?"
"Bwahaha!" Discord began to laugh hysterically. "Oh, this is going to be priceless! You know what? Go on! Go after my dear Fluttershy. You don't stand a chance against her. You'll die again and again to her. You'll go hollow like the rest of ponykind and I'll laugh! I'll laugh at you!" Hahaha! Go on, brave warrior!" His laughing slowed down and a devious grin was on his lips. "Go on and get your Harmony."
She looked back at him, but he was gone. The warrior glanced about just to make sure he was not hovering above her. All the noise of the swamps was gone as if it never existed. It was an ominous silence that now covered the bog, making the warrior extremely uneasy.
"Discord?" she called out nervously. Nothing answered like she expected.
She put her helmet back on before heading off once more. Her mind stayed on the draconequus and his mocking words. Maybe this pony was more than she realized.
"The Church of Kindness..."
The warrior stopped to see the grand cathedral that towered over the swamp. It was built on a steep hill that one could argue was a small mountain. On the slopes of this hill were stone houses and at the base of the hill was a short, but thick, wall. One flight of steep steps led from the gates of the small town all the way to the front entrance of the church. The warrior stood there for some moments in pure awe.
With dry ground leading to the gates, the warrior had an easy time reaching the town. More and more hollows in their red robes appeared, but like the others, they remained docile to the intruder in their midst. Instead of stabbing them for their pathetic souls, she ignored them and climbed the steps.
It was a long and uneasy climb. The steps were so steep that it almost seemed a vertical climb. She evened her breathing and pushed onward. She had to climb the steps. She had to get her Harmony back and restore her body to its former glory. Every time she saw her rotten hooves, it gave her reason to keep going up.
She panted and leaned on the grand door of the church. The door had a massive stone engraving of three butterflies, the symbol of Kindness. The butterflies shouted for joy and peace in a land that knew neither. The Church of Kindness was a refuge forgotten and unable to help anypony.
The warrior placed her hooves on the door. The low humming of a beautiful song could be heard echoing inside. It was a loving, heartfelt tune. The warrior almost stopped as to not interrupt the whimsical humming, but her yearning for Harmony was too great. Her quest could not end here, she thought. So she pushed with her legs and opened the door. The screeching of the stone doors silenced the music and boldly announced her arrival.
The church was one massive room. At the other end of the room was a tremendous statue. The marble statue was of a pegasus mare posing in a angelic fashion. Its right hoof was stretched out to anypony who was standing in the middle of the giant room. Its wings were spread wide in a glorious manner and it wore a long cape that fluttered in nonexistent wind. It was by far the most prominent feature of the relatively empty room. The brooch of the cape was a pink butterfly. The walls added flare to the church with wonderful engravings and stained-glass windows depicting pony refugees escaping the terrors of war.
The warrior walked towards the center of the church. A giant chandelier hung above her, showcasing brilliant pink lights that illuminated the entire room. However, she was not looking at the lights or the statue, but the single pony kneeling in the exact center of the room.
This pony was muttering something to herself. It sounded like a prayer. Her voice was soft and soothing. The warrior could not see her face as she had her back to her. Yellow wings popped through two holes in the pony's white robes. The robes were lined with gold trimmings and made the pony appear almost regal.
As the warrior approached, she realized that the pony was not praying, but singing a tune in her quiet voice. She drew her sword as she knew who this pony had to be. The pony before her stopped singing when she heard the sword be unsheathed. Her head lifted and she turned to see the warrior, showing her light pink mane and her large, worried eyes.
"Yes, warrior?" she asked in her sweet voice. "This is not a place for violence."
"You are the Bearer of Kindness," the warrior began, "and I am here to get what is mine."
Fluttershy turned completely around. Her eyes inspected the threatening warrior. Her lips quivered slightly and she took a deep swallow. The warrior took a step forward with her sword raised. The Bearer did not move and stayed sitting upright where she was. The Element of Kindness was on her chest, glowing vibrantly and pulsing as if it was a heart.
"I knew this would happen one day," the pegasus sighed.
"I want my Harmony," the warrior said.
"Harmony is given to those that deserve it," she replied in a lower tone.
"I'm not asking for it!"
Fluttershy began to breathe harder. "Then take it!"
She stood up and arched her back, spreading her wings. She cried in pain as a dark substance engulfed her. Her high-pitched screaming echoed through the church. The dark substance wrapped itself around her wings, transforming them into massive bat wings. Wicked fangs grew from her teeth and tongue became forked. Her ears grew twice the size they were and long fur reached from the pointed tops. The once delicate eyes became a wild red. Claws grew from her hooves and she scratched the marble floor. Her total size grew, making her rip open some of her robes, but most of it stayed wrapped around her.
"What in Equestria!" the warrior shouted.
The warrior barely had time to react when the Bearer took to the air. Once in the air, she shrieked and dove at the warrior with her claws out. The warrior dodged the attack and readied for another. The batpony pounded the stone floor, cracking it, before letting out another ear-piercing scream.
For the first time, the warrior felt outmatched. Her heart raced not with the fury and intensity of combat, but with fear. The sword in her mouth rattled as she trembled. This monster before her was nothing like she had faced. Why? She did not know exactly. The wings, the fangs, the wicked shrieks all told her that she was in the wonders of nightmares.
Fluttershy's claw reached the warrior, sending her rolling across the floor. The warrior tried to get up, but the monster dashed on top of her and pinned her down. The batpony shrieked once more, sending vile spit across the warrior's face. The warrior struggled to get free, but the Bearer of Kindness held her there. Her jaws went wide, showing her rows of horrific teeth. It was the face of horror.
"Rheeeee!" Fluttershy screamed.
She lifted her clawed hooves up and brought them down on the warrior's torso. Armor and flesh was torn off as the Bearer ripped through her body like it was nothing. Bone fragments were flung to the air along with cold blood and flaps of skin. The warrior let out a howl that made her sword fall from her mouth. She had never experienced such agony. Her vision blurred and all her awareness disappeared. She could not think, she could not move. As her vision darkened, she could only watch the Bearer tear her body apart.
Then she died.
"Listen, my love. Never give up. You know I won't. Equestria can become better. We can overcome this curse. Eleanor, my love, remember our endeavors."
The first thing she saw was her outstretched leg. Embers and sparks gathered around them, forming the familiar shape of her body. Then she could feel. She felt her hoof touch the soft dirt followed by the rest of her leg. Even her armor formed around the legs through the power of the embers.
The warrior used her legs to pull herself forward. The embers were reforming her whole body. Her helmet appeared around her vision and she soon felt its weight. She turned her head to see her body appear from nothing except the small sparks. Soon, she was all there in front of the small fire she had found in the swamp.
"I'm alive?" she looked down at her hooves.
"Not entirely," a voice said next to her. "You've been reborn in the flames."
In a startled reaction, the warrior turned to see Octavia sitting on a log just feet from her. The former cellist had her usual frown as she looked back the warrior's shocked expression. She did not know what to say and waited for the other to speak again.
"Well, you found Fluttershy, didn't you?" Octavia smiled in mockery. "Good on you."
"You went through the cavern?" the warrior asked.
"Obviously. I said I would help you if you got through. I keep my word," she answered. "I see you need help."
"I was caught off-guard. It will not happen again," the warrior looked down in shame.
"Fluttershy became a vampire batpony-thing not long after the curse got here," Octavia explained. "Even with that, she somehow gained refugees for her church. I never understood it. She may look like the nicest pony in Equestria, and she was once, but that is long gone."
"The Firekeeper never told me..." the warrior snarled at the memory.
"Of course she didn't. She just wants you to go blindly slaughtering everything. You need lots of souls to rekindle the First Flame. The Bearer has souls. So that's why I'm going to help you kill her."
"You are?" the warrior smiled in relief.
"I'm a bit rusty in combat, but I think I'll manage. You don't know how much you remind me of an old friend of mine. That's why I like you. Together we can take the Bearer down and you'll get your old body back with her Harmony."
"Thank you."
Octavia shook her head. "Don't thank me yet. The Bearer is still living."
"She's waiting for us," the warrior told Octavia.
The two mares stood before the closed church doors. They could hear the heavy breathing from the batpony monster inside. They could not stand there forever. Octavia took a step towards the warrior and placed her hoof on the rotting shoulder.
"I'll go first. Unlike you, I actually use a shield."
The warrior could only nod.
Together, they opened the church's doors. Their heads faced the beast in the center of the room. They rushed at the Bearer, Octavia in front of the warrior with her shield up for protection.
"Back again?" Fluttershy hissed. "You must know if you keep this up, you'll both go hollow!"
She pounced at the duo. Octavia kept her large shield up and Fluttershy's attack landed straight on it. The Bearer pushed the mare back across the floor. Octavia's armored hooves slid on the marble, making a scratching sound.
The warrior sprung in for a flanking attack. Fluttershy almost instantly turned around, grappling the warrior by the face before chucking her across the room. The warrior bounced off the floor and recovered on her hooves.
"Nice going!" Octavia shouted. "I can't deal with her alone!"
The Bearer screeched an ear-shattering shriek that made both Octavia and the warrior grimace in pain. Like a bolt of lightning, the Bearer jumped at Octavia, who barely had time to react. The mare was shoved into the wall where the monster continued to swipe at her with her large claws.
The warrior saw her companion in trouble and rushed over with her sword in mouth. When she crossed the room and reached the backside of the Bearer, she swung her sword into Fluttershy's lower back, making her howl in pain. Her victory was short as the Bearer backhanded the warrior, sending her once again to the floor.
Fluttershy growled at them as she backed away from the duo. Her fangs were covered in dripping saliva and her eyes were blood red. The blood from her wound was not as much as the warrior had hoped, but the sight of it on the floor was almost relieving. Even a Bearer of Harmony could bleed.
"You don't want to do this!" Fluttershy said in a less-threatening tone.
"Now you beg when you find out you're mortal," the warrior chuckled.
"I mean it..." she uttered.
The warrior charged at the bleeding monster. Fluttershy dodged the attack by flying into the air. She let out another hellish shriek. While she flew up towards the church's ceiling, Octavia stepped in front of the warrior holding her sword straight up in her hoof. The sword began to glow yellow with sparks of lightning jumping off it. She reeled it back, letting the surge of power grow, before swinging it forward and unleashing a large bolt of electricity at the monster, knocking her right of the air.
The Bearer crashed into the floor, where she hissed like the beast she was. The warrior looked at Octavia in bewilderment. An earth pony that could perform magic? Even in her faded mind she knew this was absurd.
"How did you-"
Octavia silenced her. "Knowing a skilled smith has its rewards," she told her. "Now get back into the fight!"
The wounded Bearer held her ground in a corner of the church. She gnashed her large teeth at them both. Her actions made her seem fierce, but her eyes displayed concern.
The warrior led the charge, but jumped back as Fluttershy leaped at her with her wide mouth. It was like approaching a cornered wolf. Octavia tried to charge up another lightning spell, but the Bearer was ready this time. The monster pounced on top of Octavia clawing some flesh and armor off her.
"Gah!" Octavia screamed.
The warrior stabbed the Bearer in the leg, but this time, the Bearer did not squeal. Instead, the Bearer just turned her focus on the warrior. She knocked the warrior to the ground and bit onto her right back leg. Like a wild animal, Fluttershy began to shake her head about, trying to rip the leg off completely. Bits of armor flew off the warrior as she was whipped back and forth.
"Help!" the warrior shouted as she desperately tried to hit the beast with her sword.
Octavia slowly got up, clutching her side as blood poured out from under her armor. "Can't let it happen again..." she muttered to herself. Her sword started to glow again. A bolt of lightning flew from the tip, striking the unsuspecting beast. Fluttershy shrieked, letting go of the warrior's leg in the process.
The warrior was quick to take advantage. She got up and stabbed her blade into the belly of the Bearer. Fluttershy lost all strength at that instant and her body fell on top of the warrior. It did not last long as the Bearer clutched the warrior and slammed her straight into the floor.
The beast walked away from the two mares. Blood trailed her as she tried to free herself from the fight. Once far away enough, she sat down on her haunches. Her claws wrapped themselves around the Element of Kindness. The crystal butterfly began to glow brightly. As the Element glowed, the wound on her stomach and her back began to heal. The separated flesh met each other and not even a scar was left. The Bearer had healed herself completely.
"Damn it!" the warrior shouted and slammed the floor. "What does it take to kill her?"
"We need to be patient, "Octavia told her. "We'll have to kill her in one swift move if she can heal her wounds so easily."
Fluttershy let out another screech, telling them that she was reentering the battle. With her being fully healed and the two warriors both holding their wounded body parts, the fight seemed awfully one-sided. However, the two mares refused to give up. They held their swords up and readied to commence the battle once more.
The beast crept up to them, her back arched like a lion on the prowl. Her white robes slid along the cracked floor. Her clawed hooves stepped in the blood that had once poured from her torso. Her eyes shifted from one mare to the other in anticipation.
Octavia held her shield up front with her sword glowing at her side. The undead warrior strafed away from her companion to get into a better position. Any second the beast could attack them and they waited eagerly for that very moment.
Fluttershy swiped at them suddenly with her claws. They both rolled away in opposite direction to avoid the sweeping attack. The Bearer decided to focus on the warrior and dived for her. The warrior was quick and jumped directly backwards to dodge the assault.
Octavia swung her blade at the backside of the beast. The sword contacted no flesh and only chopped the Bearer's long tail off. Fluttershy bucked at the mare, but her hooves only met the protective shield. Octavia held her ground.
The warrior dashed in, taking a mighty swipe at one of the Bearer's front legs, giving it a nasty gash. The mare then ducked as she rightly predicted the Bearer to send a claw her way and it sailed harmlessly over her. The warrior followed with an upward strike that sliced open the Bearer's right wing.
The screech from the batpony shattered the glass lamps on the church's walls. Her senseless shrieks stunned the two mares as they placed their hooves over their delicate ears.
Blood coated the floor more than ever. With a scratched leg and a torn wing, the Bearer once again sat in a praying position, her hooves over the Element of Kindness. Octavia was the first to see this bold move by the monster and charged with all her might. She sent her sword straight into the side of the Bearer, who squealed loudly, unable to complete her healing ritual.
Octavia, however, was not prepared for what happened next. The Bearer took her clutched claws and slammed them squarely on Octavia's head, sending her whole body into the floor. The clash of the metal armor on the stone floor was a sharp noise that instantly had the warrior's attention. Octavia's face was flat into the ground and her body lay there without a single movement.
"Octavia!" the warrior shouted.
Fluttershy took hold of the sword in her side and forcefully pulled it out. Seeing the warrior before her, she chucked the sword at her. The flying blade was knocked to the side by the warrior's skillful movement. Seeing that it was now one-on-one once more, the Bearer crept forward to settle the battle.
The warrior felt her heart race. She could feel the blood rushing through her veins. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Never before in her short memory had she felt so alive. As the Bearer painfully made her way to her, the warrior lowered her head and tore at the floor with her hoof. This was it, she thought.
"Another Champion of Ash come to ruin!" Fluttershy hissed. "Another contender that fails to rekindle the First Flame. You will be forgotten like the rest!"
The beast's mouth was hanging open, showcasing her rows of horrifying teeth. The warrior was not perturbed. The feeling of fear had left her. Octavia, her companion, was motionless on the ground, a victim of the beast before her. Seeing the pony in such a state angered the warrior and she bit harder on the handle of her sword.
With a sudden sprint, the warrior galloped right at the Bearer of Kindness. The beast responded in kind by reeling up and sending her claws at the pony. However, the Bearer was a half-second too slow and the warrior's sword dug through the chest, straight into the heart. Blood splattered out and the beast could only watch in horror.
The warrior kept digging the blade deeper under only the handle stuck out. She felt the claws of the Bearer on her flanks, but they lacked the strength to penetrate her armor. She was almost fully blinded by the blood that now smothered her face. However, she could see the pink crystal right in front of her eyes. With a hoof, she took the Element and ripped the necklace off the Bearer.
"You don't know what you've done..." the Bearer pleaded, "Do not kill me....I am an agent of Harmony..."
As she said this, her beast form began to diminish. The claws retracted into now normal pony hooves. The Bearer's size also shrunk to what it was before. In a matter of long moments, Fluttershy was nothing but the pegasus the warrior had found.
"Please..." Fluttershy begged. "I am not your enemy!"
The warrior pulled her sword out. "You have contradicted yourself enough, monster. The time for mercy has long passed."
At these words, Fluttershy fell to the floor and died. Her body was sprawled out and her eyes stared blankly at the high ceiling. Then, her body began to disappear in embers and the souls she possessed were transferred to the warrior. The mare could only sigh in pleasure as the souls enveloped her and calmed her.
It was not only the souls that gave her strength, but a new, powerful sensation as well. In her hoof was the Element of Kindness, now a dark and shadowy pink instead of its vibrant color before. This new sensation not only made her feel relieved, but seemed to broaden her mind. It felt like a sudden revelation that now made unclear things, understandable.
"Is this Harmony?" she asked the Element.
In the corner of her eye, she saw Octavia's body and instantly remembered about her companion. In a short burst, she ran over and leaned over the mare. In a panic, she violently nudged the pony to register some sort of reaction.
"Octavia! Octavia!" she called.
After a moment, she did gain a response. One of Octavia's hooves slid across the floor, but no sound came from her. The warrior did not know what to think of this action and decided to flip her over on her back. In doing so, she saw Octavia's bloodied face. At first, the wounds looked severe, but the mare's smile told otherwise.
"Oi, that was a pain," Octavia chuckled. "Let's not do this again for a while, eh?"
"I agree on you with that," the warrior smiled back.
"Wow, you're beautiful," Octavia said almost absently.
"What? How is this beautiful? I'm rotten!" the warrior gestured to herself, but paused upon seeing a clean hoof covered in bright white fur.
"You're not rotten anymore," Octavia said. "Look in my shield."
The warrior took Octavia's shield, which was laying a few feet from her, and gazed excitedly into it. Its reflection told her something she never thought she would see. The mare that stared back had almost perfect facial features and vibrant sky-blue eyes. Matching blue hair escaped her helmet. She was amazed by her own looks and stared speechlessly at herself from some moments.
"You look awfully like a pony I knew once," Octavia spoke up to pull the warrior out of her trance. "Well, you fight like my friend too."
"I'm sure she was incredible then," the warrior remarked.
"Indeed," Octavia nodded. "Indeed. Warrior, do you have a name?"
The warrior frowned. "No. I still don't remember."
"Then can I name you?"
"Yes," the warrior smiled. "Yes, you may."
"From her on, my friend, you are Scratch. I'll call you Scratch."
"I like that name," Scratch looked back at herself in the shield. "I like that name."
"How many bloody times are you going to repeat that?"
Scratch rolled her eyes at Octavia. It had been perhaps a day since they defeated the Bearer of Kindness, but time could not be tracked so easily with the sky in a perpetual state of half-night and half-day. The only thing for sure was that they had gotten far from the Church of Kindness and were now resting at a lonely fire on a hilltop, high above the swamps.
"I just never thought I would look like this," Scratch gestured at herself. "I'm an actual pony again!"
Octavia leaned on her shield with a grin. "Yup, you are. Can't say you're the best mare I've ever seen though."
Scratch frowned. "Oh come now! Don't spoil this for me."
"You act different now too. Ya much more carefree now. You sure Fluttershy didn't knock the warrior clean out of you?"
Scratch sat on a stump. She had been acting differently. All her heroic and mysterious attitude seemed distant, like a past her that she hardly knew now. Perhaps that was one effect of hollowing? She also did not crave souls like before, but it was not gone completely. The embers of the First Flame retained their soothing nature, however, so at least one thing did not change. She was not sure if she liked all the changes as they were all completely new to her.
"So why did you call me Scratch?" Scratch ventured.
"You remind me of a friend I had, that's all," Octavia shrugged. "Her name was Vinyl Scratch."
The warrior leaned on her sword. "What happened to her?"
"She had a fate worse than death," Octavia answered, looking at the ground. "Her thirst for souls overcame her sanity, turning her into a Darkwraith."
Something triggered in Scratch's mind as the word "Darkwraith" was said so quietly. She had heard this word long before, but she could not remember when or where. She leaned forward carefully.
"What's a Darkwraith?"
"Oh, they're lots of things," Octavia looked up at her. "One thing, is that they are part of a cult of non-hollows. They feast upon the souls and Harmony of non-hollow ponies. They dress in armor that resembles a skeleton and have cloaks of shadow on their backs. They just pop in unannounced and simply kill you. No mercy, not even a 'hello' from them. They were founded by Rarity when she discovered the severed horn of King Sombra. His horn alone is quite powerful and just the smallest fragment of it can be used as a magical relic. Each Darkwraith possessed a fragment and they can use them to traverse space and maybe even time. A Darkwraith could teleport across Equestria to find a pony to prey upon. When they use the horn, their bodies morph into dark red phantoms, hence their names, and they will chase you down until they are defeated or until you are dead. The worst part is, once you become a Darkwraith, you can't leave. It's selling yourself into slavery to the Mistress of Shadows."
"Then we must be on guard," Scratch gulped.
"Indeed. There are some places in Equestria that have magical barriers to prevent their invasions, like Hollow Shades and the village you found me in. Beyond that, I'm not sure where a safe place is."
Scratch said nothing after this. Her eyes gazed outward towards the west. With the height advantage, she could see a dark forest in that direction, beyond a rocky quarry and a vast crevice. That distant forest bore dark trees that seemed to be much taller than the ones in the swamp. As she peered at it, her hooves tingled. She knew the name of this foreboding forest.
"It's the Everfree," she whispered.
Octavia cocked her head. "You remember that? Hmph, odd. But yes, it is the Everfree. We have no need to go through there," she added curtly.
Scratch looked back at her. "Are you certain? My body says we do."
"We should seek Canterlot before we go on some wild chase for the sake of curiosity. Our chance of survival rests on us doing the least amount as possible. It is already a long journey to Canterlot, let's not make it any longer."
Scratch considered her friend's words. Her eyes lingered on the distant forest. She gulped as the feeling stayed with her. The forest was old and full of history she only had to remember. As the moon loomed over the dark forest, she could not help but think Octavia was wrong.
"I say that it may help us to go through there," she said with a pointed hoof. "I'm not sure why, but it seems important. It seems almost necessary."
Octavia sighed and with a hoof, threw the mane out of her eyes. "Listen, Scratch, you only say that because you are curious. There is nothing in there at all, but the moving corpses of wild beasts. The forest is a sickened waste of space, always has been I say. It was a place of evil long before this curse."
"But it would be a fantastic hideout from the undead," Scratch argued. "Perhaps some haven to avoid the curse. Perhaps there are some not hollow that are refugees within the forest."
"Apparently the Bearer's Harmony was not enough for you," the grey pony rolled her eyes. "Don't you hear yourself? That's crazy. Merely being surrounded by trees does not protect you from the undead curse. Nothing does. There are hollows wandering that forest, along with the hollowed animals. We must cut across the land directly to Canterlot."
Scratch nodded in silence merely to appease Octavia rather than agree with her. She walked to the edge of the fire's light, still staring off in the distance. The Everfree beckoned her, and it was as if she could even here it saying "come hither, wanderer." Her eyes then went towards the mountain where the capital of Equestria was located. From this location, the detour to the Everfree did not seem like an impossible feat. Scratch ground her teeth as she thought of her options.
"Octavia, what lies ahead of us?"
"Danger," was the short answer.
"I mean the land," Scratch huffed.
"By going straight to Canterlot, we would cross mainly plains and rolling hills. There are no real points of civilization until you get near the Ponyville Valley. It would require some river crossing as well."
"Then so be it."
Scratch walked over to her equipment and began to put it on, piece by piece. Octavia did not seemed please by the other's hurry, but she said nothing and reached for her shield to place on her back. The both remained quiet as they prepared to journey once more.
Being a pony with Harmony once again, Scratch did not feel as relentless or as tireless as before. Her body had needs and she had to restore her energy. Her hooves twitched with anticipation, as the hunger for souls would rise within her for fleeting moments. When her teeth took hold of the sword's handle, the thought of it piercing a foe gave her a little more strength to continue on the adventure.
When she sheathed the weapon, she sighed. "Octavia, I'll let you lead since you seem to know the way better than I."
Octavia nodded. "Understood."
Scratch watched the pony move by her and down a lonely, foreboding path that was directed toward the large mountain that was their ultimate destination. She took one last look at the Everfree, before grunting in some careless manner and following her new companion.
The steep hill they descended was full of jagged rocks and dangerous roots from the trees that made tripping a significant hazard. The stench of the swamps returned, but this time, twice as strong. The mud and ponds of black water were once again all round them. The faces of dead ponies stared off into the sky as their heads floated on the thick water's surface. Flies and other insects flew about, and with a careful eye, could tell that they were infected and rotten.
"I've not been this way in well, a long time," Octavia spoke up. "I assure you, the swamp did not used to extend this far west."
Scratch did not answer as they moved forward. The buzzing and ugly noises of the bog was around them, but they were not heard easily above the clanking armor of the mares. The disturbing noise brought them glares from undead creatures. A few hollowed ponies, some of them wearing the robes that belonged to the Church of Kindness, looked at them with eyeless faces, but made no move to attack them.
This reminded the warrior of how Discord pointed out her cruelty for slaying the hollows on the other side of the swamp. Was she so ruthless? Certainly she did not feel ruthless, especially now with her Harmony restored. She looked down at her hooves, white and with fur. The memory of them being so rotten that her remaining flesh was literally being left in her hoofprints almost made her shutter, she she did not as she was used to that body, more so than this restored one.
Her thoughtfulness was disturbed by a creature that walked across the path before them. They both stopped to witness a hollow griffon simply making its way from one side of the path to the other. Its beak dragged a large blade that was almost as long as the beast itself. The wings were but bones with a few feathers attached here and there, hanging pitifully to the ground. It was hard to tell if it noticed them, as one of its eyes was skewered with a wooden rod, perhaps the middle portion of a spear.
It then stopped, turning its head just a bit towards them. Octavia stood defensively, ready to fight. The griffon let out a high pitch groan that perhaps was meant to be a squawk. One mangled limb moved towards them and the beast approached. Scratch stood firmly, ready to combat the monster.
"Come at me!" the warrior yelled.
The monster replied to the challenge. Dragging its weapon through the mud, it pounced with its lion-like back legs. Octavia hid behind her shield while Scratch charged the foe back. The blades of the warrior met in a loud clang. Mud and blackish water splashed about as the fighter's legs sunk into the soft earth. Without the traction, their swings were not forceful and the fighting was clumsy on the terrible terrain.
Scratch swung her weapon again, but the griffon was beyond the sword's reach. The hollow beast did a downward swing of its mighty blade, coming nowhere close to Scratch's position. More mud and water went high into the air. It gave a sluggish growl that was full of the sound of misery.
The warrior lowered herself, getting ready to charge. Octavia reached her side, holding her shield up for protection. The griffon squawked loudly and began its approach. Each of its rotten feet sunk into the soft ground and its filthy weapon was dragged along. The two ponies waited for it to reach them.
"Let's just get away from it," Octavia suggested. "It's obviously too far gone to keep up with us."
"And let it roam on? I think not."
Scratch then let out a war cry and charged at the beast. Octavia yelled at her to stop, but the warrior did not listen. Holding her sword firmly in her mouth, she jabbed angrily at the griffon. The beast was in the process of lifting its hefty blade to attack, but it was too slow. The warrior's sword went straight into the rotten chest, breaking through the decaying internals. The griffon let out a deathly grunt and dropped its sword.
The warrior then ripped her sword back out, leaving a gaping hole in the hollowed beast who then fell over into the swampy ground. The souls it contained, though few, filled Scratch, sending chills up her legs. They felt wonderful and the warrior was reminded about how the taste of souls were so satisfying.
"That was not necessary," Octavia huffed. "We could have just left it."
"Sure, but then its souls would have been wasted," Scratch noted. "Somepony that actually needs them deserves them, right?"
"I don't follow your logic, but let us carry on."
Octavia shoved her way past the warrior and continued down the dark and foreboding path. Scratch was a bit confused by her friend's slight hostility. She then looked down at the dead griffon, a beast that would come back to animation in due time. Her thoughts made her feel guilty once more, but she could only sigh.
"What is done is done. I must not forget my Harmony, but I also must not starve myself of souls. If I'm going to fight my way to Canterlot, I need to be stronger, right? Perhaps I can be both pony and hollow?"
She was still uncertain of the situation. With Octavia still walking up the path, Scratch had to move now to keep up. As she did so, she looked up through one breakage in the treetops. The mountain that Canterlot rested on loomed above them. It's size made it seem so close, but she knew all too well that mountain was anything but nearby. It was going to be a long journey. Hopefully it's worth all the trouble.
