> The Sacrifice > by Blackhaert > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Starchild > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The wind swept through the barren wastes, a harsh foreboding land made of rock and sand. Ash came down gently, as if it was the first floating flakes of winter. There was no green to be found with all the soot that gently floated down from the greyed skies, and perhaps if there was any green to be found in this forsaken place, it had no doubt been lost to the ashes of thousands, brittle bones blackened upon these rocky hills. The clouds slowly darkening as evening crept over the skies above, the rocky outcroppings became almost pitch black in color. Save the wind blowing ash through the various cracks and crevices winding throughout the hills, it was silent, a silence that was as if it was vigil, for the many that had fallen in the past few days. Amongst the chitinous plates of the enemy, laid scorched pieces of armor. Rent swords, beaten pistols, halberds, shattered rifles, and many more worn weapons laid scattered among the bodies of their wielders, seemingly bereft of any purpose now that their masters have been broken. A snap of bone broke the silence, angry and sharp, followed by the crunching of boots on gravel, resounding with painful recollection at the stillness of the mass graveyard. Seemingly in a breath later, a small growl could be heard. A figure, garbed in a hood that hid her upper face, save her irises, which glowed with a fierce purple color, betraying her arcane capabilities. The figure’s hood also served as a scarf, glared ruefully over the badlands, cursing herself. Her leather armor was a simple, dark gray, and well worn, with gauntlets, greaves, a series of plates forming her right pauldron, and a breastplate, with a simplistic long lavender kama lashed to a belt held with a silver buckle with a six-pointed star, surrounded by five more smaller stars, engraved upon the buckle. The belt also had four thick scrolls lashed to it, within easy reach in case a quick casting was needed. The kama was crushed into the ash and dirt as Twilight collapsed on the ground, a single silver ornamented pistol held in a black holster attached to the back of her belt, nestled amongst the arcane scrolls. The Sun shone upon her purple skin as she felt the warmth of the Sun upon her face. Twilight, glaring over the desolation, recalled why she had been sent here: to aid the Royal Army of the Shattered Crown. The battlefield had been teeming with the enemy: chitinous insectoid bipedals that loosely resembled mortals: the Hive. The Hive had been able to mostly hold the desolate battlefield in their favor. As such, the Royal Army had begun to retreat, as defeat drew near. Then Twilight had appeared in a white flash of teleportation Magic. Everybody on the battlefield knew what that meant, the battle was not to be lost. She had been sent to unleash her Magic upon the enemy. Having just mastered a classic third-class spell, she let the Magic sigils form and begin to pluck the strings of the weave. She had pulled together the stable solar Magic she typically had used for her spells, but for some reason... Twilight narrowed her eyes as she reviewed the memory. Twilight had missed a sigil, and had felt her violet Magic flood the spell, taking on vast power. Pure Magic, chaotic and volatile. The fireball that had been formed was wild and explosive, radiating immense Magical power, and more accurately resembled a particularly devastating ninth-class spell Twilight had read of. Twilight sighed, content that she had at least killed every last Hive in sight. Her self-analysis now completed, Twilight huffed, blowing a strand of her errant navy-blue hair from her face. Some Disciple she was. Twilight realize there were tears on her face and dried them; the spell had taken all of her concentration just to maintain control. Twilight hardened her heart to the thousands of lives she had extinguished in less than six seconds. She began to focus upon her meditations, to draw in her expended Magical power, but if she had to admit to herself, the meditation was to calm her nerves more than anything else. That amount of power was honestly frightening, which is why she often relied on solar Magic, the young mage realized. She felt the familiar call of darkness, that blasphemous Black Magic. It was calling her away, as it always had. She ignored it, as she began to sense in her expended power, drawing in her eager Magic, only to clamp down on it, and let it never escape. The Royal Army had barely managed to retreat before her devastating Magic had landed upon the battleground and combined with the losses accrued from the fighting with the Hive, the Royal Army had been decimated. But also, thanks to Twilight, the Hive was now non-existent in this area. Ultimately a win, but Twilight cringed at the thought of incinerating her own. Her hands shook as she clenched them, trying to drive the fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins away, as the Solar Magic began to once again suffuse her form. She felt the Magic of her mentor throughout herself and couldn’t help but recall a few pleasant memories of her younger days. Her eyes trailed over the distant over the Macontosh Mountains, and the returning army set for Canterlot. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she heard light footfalls approaching behind. A dark silver blade, almost black, marked with gold iconography reminiscent of the Solar Queen, flashed with warm Sunlight into existence as Twilight whipped around and held the blade aloft with a practiced grace, and felt herself seize the familiar Solar Magic, a small golden sphere of preparatory Magical energy in her other hand. Realizing it was dusk, Twilight cursed herself, the Solar Magic beginning to falter as the Sun began to set. “My, my, Disciple.” The words were drawn out, as Twilight felt fear run ice cold down her spine, followed by rage. The Scion of the Hive, Crypsis, stood before her, a Hive-twisted hand cannon in claw, pointed in her direction. He was bipedal, like most Hive Twilight had seen, but was slight in form, his large wings camouflaged to resemble a black hooded shawl, with the edges of his disguised wings uncannily resembling red stitched fabric. His eyes where alight with the green Magic common to the Hive’s mages, creatures known as Hiveminds. The rest of his slight frame draped in clean and tailored black leather armor, dull iron buckles glinting as the moon began overtaking the eastern horizon, under the command of Celestia, the Solar. Twilight recalled that it was the Hiveminds that could actually shapeshift, despite the popular train of thought that the Hive were all shapeshifters. Crypsis’s chitinous hands and face were the only details revealing that he was indeed of Hive origins. Twilight had read a few books on the notable Hive, recalling that Crypsis had faced down the Umbral King for a contract and survived. Twilight dared not doubt that the creature had several of the Hive’s legendary poisoned knives, said to be able to draw out an individual’s emotions. That said nothing for the notorious Hive’s equally legendary hand cannon, Word of the Queen. Twilight’s face became awash by fear, but with a second, she steeled herself, three different prepared spells coming to mind, most prominently another Fireball. “Crypsis, where’s your Queen?” Twilight growled untactfully, venom clearly in her tone, “Knowing the situation of those in her fold, I would have thought she’d love to come to this graveyard. Plenty of lingering emotive energy amongst the dead here.” Twilight snickered, a slight smirk grew upon her face. The celestially summoned blade seemed to hum with unseen power, and quickly grew warm in Twilight’s grip, almost borderline hot as the Sun finally sank beneath the western horizon. The Magic was only there through force of will, and it wouldn’t be long until the Sun’s power had fully ceded to Night. Crypsis swallowed as he saw the faint motes of light that swam around the presence of the summoned blade. He took comfort in three facts: he had no less than thirteen kunai, each primed to evoke different aspects of a mortal’s emotions, he had Thorn at the ready, and Night was falling, when dark Magic would find more power than the Sun. Yet, the Hivemind was nervous, before him was an individual so suffused with solar Magic that death would be an inconvenience. He was but a courier today. Killing could wait. “We both know that killing you would be useless, as I would waste hours of work and you would just reappear a few seconds later, albeit pissed. Could you please put away the Blade? Besides, we both know you are an excellent spellcaster, despite the public’s lamentations.” Crypsis winced as he said those last words, instantly regretting it. Do not upset mages. The one thing to keep in mind. And what was he dealing with? A mage that wiped out the entirety of the last Queen’s army. Mages all are highly eccentric, weird, and are easily insulted. Crypsis would no doubt come back to his new Queen with valuable information, but he had to survive. Reviewing his internal itinerary, he remembered he had also taken a contract on the side, and Crypsis intended to keep his bargain. Imagining the payday from this, he let the inscription from his contract, hidden in his mind, now find utterance. Crypsis rasped in a voice not his own, but one that sounded deep and utterly sure in itself. Twilight realized the Hivemind was acting a courier yet was only comforted by this knowledge until the message began. “MidNight rises Starchild,” Twilight’s eyes widened at the declaration, as Crypsis continued, “It shall find you, and the Sun will never shine upon your face again.” It was now Crypsis’s turn to smirk, pleasantly surprised at the contents of the message now unveiled. Twilight’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Crypsis. Twilight had a new threat against her, and Crypsis filed that tidbit in the “For Later” pile in his mind, his Queen would soon be aware of all this knowledge. Twilight lowered the blade, and it dissipated into a flurry of soft golden light, the Magic of daylight now finding no purchase against the power of Night. Crypsis smiled, showing the layers upon layers of sharp incisor-like teeth, just one of the many things that made his kind so unsettling amongst mortality. “And just about three hours as of now, my Queen sent some regards for you.” Crypsis quipped, his normal voice sounding scratchy and hollow, like crackling paper. Twilight braced herself, it wasn’t the first death threat she had received from the Hive Queen. But damn, couldn’t the Queen just write a letter? The weird echoey voice pouring from her servitor’s was going to be unsettling. “Duuuu-ssss-k-k-k-k,” The characteristic hissing of the Hive Queen always did that, yet the smooth silky hiss of the voice was unfamiliar to the Disciple of the Solar Queen, “Greetings, Wizard. Though we personally do not know each other, no doubt you have thwarted my predecessor’s armies for the last time. Regardless, my predecessor’s ploy was ultimately cursed to be unsuccessful. I am aware of the limited immortality you possess and all, but the venom that my predecessor had for your kingdom knew no bounds. Come to my Home, south of the Badlands, alone. I don’t need your... distrustful Queen to come and hunt down my Hive. Consider Crypsis an honor guard until you arrive.” Not receiving the typically vomit inducing record, Twilight couldn’t be anything but surprised, and looking at Crypsis’s face, the Hivemind had been obviously unaware until now what his exact purpose here was. “So, a new Queen finally overthrew your previous tyrant?” Twilight asked, trying to remain casual on the outside while internally having a nervous breakdown. Crypsis gave her a look with a smile that betrayed no emotion save the slight smirk. “Yes, Starchild.” The emphasis grating on Twilight's ears. Twilight decided she didn’t really like the legendary Hivemind all that much. > Requiem > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight glanced between the deep shadows formed from craggy outcroppings, as if waiting for an ambush, in these rocky badlands, far beyond the safety of civilised Equestria, caution was a way of life. Twilight cursed herself, wishing that there was a way to learn another kind of magic, she felt a shiver of fear as she realized she was effectively magicless with a Hivemind. As Twilight realized this, she became conscious of the churning wellspring of magic within herself. Everytime she had attempted to use it, the spell had ended up far too powerful for her to properly harness within a spell form. It was as if when she actually used it there was nothing there, until she tried to force it, and then it ended up disastrous. As Crypsis and Twilight made their way through the ash strewn battlefield, Twilight thought of her ongoing research into how her own magic worked, and quietly cursed herself that she had left it at home in her studies along with her current research project, the return of something called the Knight of Sorrow. Twilight recalled that in some of her research, her Mentor, Celestia had to magically banish a fallen order of Knights who followed the Knight of Sorrows. By the time Celestia had banished the heretical order and its champion, the peaceful land of Equestria had suffered a long war. Many weapons of war had been manufactured at the time to fight off the forces of the Knight of Sorrows, but in the following centuries, the knowledge and factories that were involved in the creation of said weapons had been forgotten. Twilight shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Celestia had told her countless times to focus upon the world around her. She focused on the entity walking before her. Crypsis, a servitor of the Hive, a feral and archaic species of creature. Seeming as if it had realized she was staring at it, the creature turned to look at her with its scathing olive green eyes. “You should scavenge some gear. Our destination is a few nights travel from here.” Crypsis rasped, and seeming as if he was tasting the air, he then remarked “And, we’re not alone. Don’t make a lot of noise.” Twilight looked at Crypsis confused, and then heard the quiet claws of creatures in the still battlefield around her. Hundreds of Hive crept along the battlefield, stopping at each of the dead, harvesting the emotive energy of the creatures that died. The magic they wielded in harvesting the energy was a sickly green color, similar to Crypsis’s eyes. Twilight held her bile as she felt the waves of the Hive magic wash over her. She saw other creatures, black against the eternally gray landscape, also feasting indiscriminately upon flesh of the dead. There would be no honor burial for the dead here. Twilight winced at the thought. Howling screeches could be heard across the wide distances. After another ten minutes of walking, Twilight felt numb to the scenes around her. She saw a group of the dead soldiers, and recalling Crypsis’ advice, meticulously gathered a pack and several days of rations for herself. Setting the pack loaded with food square upon her back, Twilight turned and followed Crypsis who paused, waiting for her to finish packing. It then led her in a southern heading, further away from Equestria. Mechanically, she she kept an eye out for other supplies as they travelled through the battlefield. She kept her silence as the wailing of the creatures continued on. She could feel a vague sense of grief in the howls, and felt like it overwrote her the inkling of emotion she felt. Twilight did not believe she could rest in this place. Twilight realized that the gray stone seemed to light up under the light of a waning crescent of a moon. As she stared at the ground before her, mechanically choosing her steps to maximize efficiency, the gray turned slightly green. Twilight’s gaze briefly turned skyward, an aurora of green lazily drifted through the sky. As she stared, she stopped, and saw tortured caricatures of mortal faces, like some sort of hellish vision. She knew she should have been terrified, but could only seem to acknowledge the mysterious event above her. She figured it resulted from all the emotion harvesting being done this night. The fledgling wizard turned her eyes to the Hivemind before her, who had began to make distance between itself and her. As she caught up, she saw that it now resembled a young male mortal in a shawl. Crypsis’ skin was faintly green with a series of darker dots across the bridge of his nose and his upper cheeks. Crypsis resembled an elf, one of the magical folk. Like herself. The realization unnerved her, before the feeling was washed over by the sense of unease. Twilight did not even see how Crypsis had changed shape. Twilight continued to watch the Hivemind, and noticed that Crypsis’ eyes would faintly glow green in dark shadows, formed by the crags that broke up the harsh terrain and uneven ground. Twilight reflected upon this, and inferred that the glowing was evidence of the Hive’s darkvision. The Hivemind would ultimately unnerve her, she decided. As the Night began to draw to an end, Dawn began to glimmer over the eastern horizon. The Night had passed in silence, and the battlefield now laid a few hours behind them. However, it seems that the fallout of Twilight’s fireball could still be seen in the ash that had settled gently upon the now gravelly landscape. As light began to paint the horizon an cavalcade of orange and reds against a blue sky, Crypsis laid out a dark gray blanket, which was lashed to his belt, and pulled its hood over its face, completely obscuring it. Within moment, he had fallen into a freakish high pitched whistling-like snore. Twilight, no longer within the proximity of the strange aurora, could not decide whether to laugh or feel concerned. Sitting on her commandeered bed roll, Twilight snarfed through one of her rations. As the sun finally rose above the horizon and painted the sky a crisp baby blue, Twilight smiled as she felt Solar magic fill her. She felt a warmth that made her smile faintly despite Crypsis’ bizarre snore. She still, however, felt exhausted from the overnight trek. And still had a ways to go. As Twilight pulled the scratchy blankets over her tired form, she thought about the ancient pistol snug in its holster. She briefly thought about firing the gun at Crypsis while it slept, and let it do its grim work. And head back to Canterlot with his head. However, she was curious as to what a Hive Queen would want with her, so she decided against it. In hindsight, Twilight considered it was possible that Crypsis could sense her murderous intent. As Twilight thought about the hand cannon itself, she slightly smiled. The Hand Cannon had been on display up in the Canterlot Archives for most of her life. She was given the pistol by the archivist as a sort of congratulatory gift when she became Celestia’s personal student. A little piece of home amidst these badlands. She then fell asleep as exhaustion overcame her. > Skirmish > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Moon hung low as if the center of the great tapestry known as the Night Sky, yet Twilight ignored this fact as she wrapped up her scratchy blanket. She rolled her shoulders in order to release some of the tension that developed from sleeping on rock, but without the magic of the Sun, Twilight took a deep breath, seizing the minute well of solar magic within her. It was much smaller than she was used to enough for one or two spells. Ultimately, after finishing packing up her scavenged gear, Twilight pulled one of her scrolls from her belt, and glanced over the spell sigils. The wizard felt that familiarizing herself with the runes of the spells contained within might help, if Twilight was forced to fuel her spellcraft with her own volatile magic. Confident that she has properly memorized the scroll’s sigils properly, Twilight lashed the scroll to her belt. Glad she slept, Twilight regarded Crypsis, who stood silently surveying the surroundings, before looking at the sky, as if gauging their heading. “This way.” Crypsis rasped, and set off southward. In a better mood, she recalled that she had not gone adventuring in a long while. Grinning slightly, she strapped her scavenged pack to her back, and quickly caught up to Crypsis, the crunching resoundment of the sandy rock bit under her feet as she caught up to the Hivemind. Over the course of the next few hours, Twilight dared to ask a number of questions all which were promptly ignored by the Hive Creature. Walking in stride with Crypsis, she examined Crypsis closer. The false light green skin seemed eerily realistic, she spied the signature ears under his hood, and white hair. The freckles across his nose and cheeks gave him the appearance of just another elf. As Twilight thought about Crypsis’ disguise, she figured an elven form, which could practice magic, would be better than a human, which held superior durability over elves, or avis, which had wings. Turning her thoughts away from the types of mortals in Equestria, she glanced back at Crypsis who just seemed to walk southward. The flat badlands seemed devoid of any life on the moonlit night. Every crunching footstep resounded, occasionally making Twilight wince when a particularly loud crack would be heard. Crypsis was still maintaining the “elf” form, and Twilight was beginning to wonder why. She kept her question to herself, knowing fully Crypsis would just ignore her. After about another hour of seeming directionless traveling on the flat badlands, Twilight thought she heard something, a whining sort of noise. She turned, and saw, to her dismay, an aerial vehicle was cruising towards Twilight and Crypsis. Reflexively, Twilight formed a spell into being, Scorcher, which would create a line of flames, but before Twilight had realized what she had done, Twilight had somehow fueled the spell with her purple crackling, barely constrained magic, fearing the spell would go off, the spell exploded into being. The backfire of the normally tame scorcher became a line of ethereal eldritch purple flames that spread in a thirty foot line, while also magically igniting her hand and forearm. Twilight seized her hand and gritted her teeth as her entire left arm became engulfed in the flaming arcane energy. She screamed and fell to one knee as the energy washed its way through her synapses and nerves like an electrical acid. She did not see the line of purple energy that burned on the ground and that had consumed two Hive that jumped off their ship. Crypsis used the distraction of the errant spell and whirled into action, the Word of the Queen now loaded with rounds. The elf disguise must have held up against its own kind, and Crypsis fired three screaming rounds into one of the hulking quadruped Hive beasts charging the lone pair with its weapon firing at Crypsis. The beast quivered as the curse of Crypsis’ twisted hand cannon set in, shadows and sick green energy clung to the Hive’s form. A black knife seemed to arc for the creature’s head from Crypsis’ hand, and the Hive’s skull burst into a purplish gory mess and explosion of green flame. Three bullets more seemed to curse the other Hive creature, which screamed an unearthly howl. Terror filled Twilight for but a moment before Twilight regained her composure. Twilight seized the dregs of solar magic within her soul that she had stored from the resting during the day, and formed the silver-black Solar Blade, iconography alight with solar fury. The errant spell now faded into licks of purple flames as Twilight charged her opponent, her vision blurred as pain coursed through her arm, leaving it wreathed in lavender magical flames, but Twilight managed to find her blade a purchase into the Hive’s insectoid body, as if guided by Crypsis’ curse and the intent of the holy weapon. With the death, the last two Hive creatures began to flee, getting back on their ship. The ship flew away quickly with a whine of its engines. With a curse word, Twilight collapsed into a painful heap on her right side, her body refusing to give chase in its agony. She grit her teeth, and glared at Crypsis and yelled, “Why do we need to travel at Night? Now I’m suffering from magical shock!” She gritted her teeth has the energy began to expire, her brain now livid with a harsh migraine. Crypsis nonchalantly strode up to the wounded girl and pulled three needles from a pouch on its belt. “I do not function well under sunlight, similar to how you cannot cast spells well at Night.” The Hivemind rasped, before stabbing her arm with the needles. Wincing, Twilight realized there was no pain as the needles were inserted, but rather a wash of cool relief surged through the affected limb that felt like it was ablaze. “Might help” Crypsis remarked after observing Twilight examine her arm in fascination, before turning and beginning to head south. “Aren’t they Hive?” the purple elf grunted, realizing she might have cost her and Crypsis a ride with her hasty judgement, Twilight’s face screwed up as she then felt searing pain as she brushed her right hand against her left forearm. “Yes, not mine.” Crypsis muttered loudly, displeasure in his voice. Twilight grimaced, before weakly asking, “How far to our destination?” as she brought herself to her feet, and after regaining her sense of balance, she waited for an answer. When none came, she slowly lumbered over to the Hive corpses. Twilight searched the Hive, and found their weapons, luckily not damaged in the melee that expired the weapons’ wielders. After sitting a moment with the weapon, Twilight figured out the weapons were similar in mechanism to the auto rifles that Celestia would require her train with once a week. Twilight again regretted her naivete, not spending time to grab a weapon from the ashened battlefield. She sighed, grabbed one of the Hive rifles, a Hive blade, and all the ammunition the Hive had. Twilight winced a little at the limb that suffered the magical backlash when it grabbed the handle of the Hive sword, and began to follow Crypsis once again. Her hand tingling as the sword was slotted in next to her pack. The transition from rocky badland to a true desert was illustrated by the shuffling sound of the now purely sandy ground. The sand reminded Twilight of she when she was young, and when she used to be read stories by her older brother Shining Armor. He used to read stories of deserts and tombs to get her to sleep when it thundered and stormed outside. She smiled fondly on the memory, before her focus was stolen by the flash of pain as she made her way up a sand dune. Twilight was trying her best to ignore the pain that came every few minutes, but everytime it moved, even the slightest, her arm’s nerves seemed to set ablaze with an acid wash. It was a reminder of the time that Celestia held a practice sparring with Twilight, and Celestia’s holy blade had struck Twilight, fiercely forcing Twilight’s spell to magically backlash, and Twilight ended up in the hospital for a week. Twilight just gritted her teeth, she had to do this for Equestria’s sake, and, Twilight sighed internally, her own curiosity as well. Crypsis turned towards her after they had crested who knows how many sand dunes. Twilight was exhausted, and her arm was on fire. She ignored Crypsis as the sun began rose again, she began unpacking her bag. The Hivemind motioned for her to come closer, and she stopped unpacking and drew closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Hivemind make a small rune in its transformed claw, and then motioned, and she felt drowsiness wash over her. She stopped, and struggled to resist the spell, while weakly stuttering out a “What?” Crypsis frowned and in an instant that Twilight did not register in her mind, returned to its Hivemind form. The Hivemind strode up as Twilight finally shrugged off the spell, and drew a knife, and plunged into into her left flank. Abject fear coursed through her, before finally blacking out, the overall shock to her mind finally granting sweet release. Darkness greeted her with open arms as she fell unconscious upon that soft, tan sand. > Mirror > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Darkness. That was the first thing Twilight thought when her eyes cracked open. She groaned, her left flank aching terribly. She put her right hand against her flank, and realised her leather armor was gone. Surprised to find that her lower abdomen was tightly bandaged, she wondered how she had ended up in the dark. Wincing at the dulled throbs of pain that coursed through Twilight’s nervous system under the pressure of her right hand, Twilight eyes began to adjust to the low lighting. As her eyes adjusted, she realized everything was faintly lit by green light. It seemed as if she was in a expansive cave, made of obsidian and granite. As she glanced around, she saw three smooth pillars that rose around her and cemented themselves into the rock above her about sixty feet above her. Twilight laid against stone, placing her hand against it, relief flooding her as she was not immediately dying. Her nervousness spiked as she could not quite figure out how she got here. She could recall that she had left Canterlot via teleportation circle, arriving in the battle. Twilight recalled the magic fireball going wild, and then…. Twilight narrowed her eyes at the examination of her memories. They were incomplete, it seemed. She was missing something, and Twilight had no idea where she was. Wincing as she began to slowly force herself into a sitting position, Twilight shuddered as a dull pain throbbed on her left flank. Breathing slowly, Twilight began focusing on isolating the pain, and with a single sigil fixed in her mind and then released, the pain faded to being barely noticeable. Looking at this chamber properly, it resembled a grand hallway, with Twilight sitting upon a smooth black dias. The dias sat upon a fleet a stairs that raised about ten feet in the center of this hallway-like room. There was two large iron worked doors to one end of the hall, and on the other end, a wall of perhaps, green glass? Twilight was not sure. The floor was mostly a pale sand color, save for the dias she was upon and the stairs, which was black obsidian. The floor did not look right to Twilight, who pursed her lips at the thought. It looked strange, until Twilight realized, the floor was actually covered in sand. Mentally chastising herself at that moment of stupidity, Twilight looked at herself. Her armor, hood, kama, pistol, and scrolls were gone. All she had were a pair of breeches and an athletic undershirt, along with her bandages. She did not even have her shoes. Twilight bristled at the thought of her pistol having been stolen. However, upon her left leg, a black mantacle was latched to her leg, it did not have any seams, or any indication of having a lock. A thick chain seemed to be attached, but as her eyes followed the chain, she noticed it seemed to fade away into nothing after about a foot of chain. Twilight began gently pushing herself to the edge of the dias she was upon, and then heard the rattle of metal upon stone of the foot of chain. Cursing herself, Twilight had wished she had memorized the unlock spell from her spellbook back in Canterlot. Trying to feel out some solar magic in her soul, Twilight began to sweat as she couldn’t feel the familiar magic of her teacher. She only felt the nebulous darkness, along with her own wild magic. Twilight began to take deep breaths, an attempt to not hyperventilate due panicking. It was not working. Trapped. Twilight had been captured, somehow. She racked her mind for how to leave, until she heard something. Snapping her head about, she examined the room for any movement, and spent ten agonizing silent minutes carefully listening for more. Satisfied there was no more sound, Twilight decided to see how far the chain would go. Slowly rising to her feet, Twilight walked to the large iron worked doors, which had no indication to how they would open, and did not budge when she pushed upon the pitted iron of the doors. It seemed the mantacle would allow her to explore the whole room. Trying to find the source of the faint sound she had heard, Twilight came up to the glass wall, which was green. As Twilight peered into it, she was only gazing into black. Twilight put her hand to the smooth glass, curious to what the actual substance was before her. The glass was surprisingly warm, and she felt something within her find comfort. The texture was similar to the pieces of obsidian that were kept in the Canterlot Archives. Feeling off from the sensation, Twilight took a deep breath, calming her heart rate a bit. Placing her head against the glass, Twilight heard a deep rumbling, as she analyzed the sound, it almost sounded wet, it was not a sound dissimilar to the gentle crashes of the ocean… Pulling her head away from the strangely peaceful sound, Twilight regarded the glass wall before her, a plane of sixty feet of an unknown glass-like substance. Twilight gasped as icy water swept around her bare feet. Panic rising again, Twilight eyes raced around her surroundings. Her breath becoming ragged as the icy water lapped against her knees. She then heard a noise behind her, and she saw, to her shock, a hulking seven foot Hive. It had three glowing green eyes, staring at her, seemingly impassive. A huge cleaver-like blade was gripped in its right hand. Twilight racked her brain for Hive that used swords like the giant cleaver before her, when she recalled the potential classifications of Hive that stood before her. Knights, and the Hive Princes. Princes were direct servitors of Hive Queens. Rage and fear flooded Twilight. She had no idea whether it was just a Knight or a proper Prince. The Hive lumbered towards her, its actions slow and sluggish. It was likely a knight, but it still had the massive blade, and Twilight did not. She realized the only way she would survive is if she killed the creature. The Knight swung the blade, the keen edge seeking Twilight as she leapt back, her legs numb from the cold water. Twilight snarled at her plight. There was no escape. There was only one way out, and Twilight sought the safety of solar magic. It trickled into her soul, a small reservoir in this dark place. Twilight quickly recalled that Hive swords channel magic easily, but are dangerous because they could be sentient. Maybe she could charge the blade with solar magic. That was no doubt her best shot. Twilight the spied a hive pistol at the Hive’s belt, and she lunged towards the huge Hive as it swung its blade in a cleaving arc towards her, the blade now wreathed in a cascade of black and green magic. Twilight narrowly dodged the blade, and clumsily grabbed at the pistol, only to knock it into the water. Twilight cursed as she whipped around, eyes on the Hive who seemed enraged now. Twilight then felt wet chitin against her right foot. The Hive charged, and Twilight dropped into the freezing water, fingers securing against grip of the strange pistol. Whipping it out, Twilight shot the Hive’s hand and at its face, as another overhead strike crashed just mere inches from her small frame. Dropping the blade, the Hive fell to one knee, gripping its hand, screeching like a forlorn banshee. The Hive’s howl was unearthly, and terror wormed its way into Twilight, who half-scrambled half-crawled back from the creature, uncertain of what would occur next. Frantically she looked around for the blade, until she saw it, twenty feet away, handle up, as if awaiting to be grasped. Not questioning the strange circumstances, Twilight raced for the blade, and seized the blade with an iron grip. Green flames exploded from the blade as Twilight felt killing intent wash over her. Twilight gritted her teeth as the fire began to rage, the pain dulled by the sigil within her mind. Bringing the solar blade spell to mind, Twilight forced the solar energy and spellform’s sigils to channel through the blade. Orange runes etched and carved themselves audibly into the blade with a creak and a sound of fervent scratching, and Twilight felt a shift in the intent of the blade as she lifted the blade. The blade was surprising light in her hand, as black and orange flames wreathed the blade. The Hive rested on its knees, as if it knew its fate was sealed. Twilight smirked, no doubt Celestia would be proud she had survived encountering the minions of the dark alone. She strode up to the Hive, the water seemingly calm and placid. The blade swung lightly, as she cleaved off the Hive’s head. The decapitated head fell and splashed the water. Silence greeted the ragged Twilight, who breathed heavily from the physical exertion and the intense panic she had felt but a moment ago. Looking at the head of the defeated Hive warrior, Twilight glanced around. The room was dimly lit by green flames with bowls of the flames ringed around the pool of water Twilight stood in. The pool measured about sixty feet wide and two feet deep, and the water reflected the light, barely exposing the ceiling, which was natural rock. The room was octogonal, as was the pool and to her left resided a wall of glass. To her right, was a cavity in the natural cave wall, which formed a doorway into another cavern. Steeling herself, Twilight moved toward the doorway, a flaming hive blade in hand. Twilight muttered, irritated, and a small mote of light floated above her, her solar magic now depleted in this darkness.