Between a place without location and a location without a place, a dragon stands guard. However, each time the ponies attack, he loses a little more. How long will he last?
This story would be best read after completing Chaotic Visage, but not required; everything should more or less make sense by the end of the story without any prior reading.
Ironhide lived a long life before his final post. He drove back the Griffon hordes at the Whitespine peaks, and helped hold the keep of Black Scale for a thousand days under constant siege.
From campaign to campaign he'd flown, wreathing himself in a cloak of fire and legend. All he has left is one little post. Guard duty, it almost seemed beneath him
Then a God greeted him at the gates.
(I intend to upload daily until this is finished).
A bank of fog rolled over the stony bridge before me like a slow avalanche of mist, highlighting the blank void beyond the sides of the bridge. I've tossed things over the sides before, and I’ve yet to hear them hit the bottom. I wonder what exactly it is? Oblivion already exists beyond the pit at the other end, and the concept of Nowhere is made physical behind me. What is left? What connects these two things? It is a void, so maybe it’s nothing at all.
I sighed as I began to mentally brace for the work ahead. My job isn't grueling or horrifying. Hell, it isn't even all that hard. It's just tedious because nothing ever changes.
I leaned on my war hammer, resting my elbow on its head. I felt its weight, the press of stone upon my taloned feet, and took deep breaths to feel the crisp chill of the mist that began to pass me.
These things were real, tangible. Everything that wasn't had left my head a long while ago. The symbol of a twisted star upon my hammer? Meaningless. My reason for being here? Gone. My name? Lost.
All I had left was this bridge, my hammer, and my enemy. He’s coming, he might take a bit, but he always gets here eventually. I wonder what it looks like beyond that pit?
I sighed as I hefted my hammer into my claws and caressed the steel haft. Winding patterns were engraved upon it, shouting a silent message to any who could understand. But nobody could. It almost made me remember something, a set of words, a creed, but the thought slipped through my fingers like loose sand.
I grunted while spreading my feet in a fighting stance. I stared into the fog ahead of me, waiting patiently for him to arrive. I shifted from side to side, trying to keep my wits about me as time ticked by. After a minute or so, my search was rewarded with a silhouette. It was a pony, it barely reached my waist on all fours, but was dangerous nonetheless for one simple reason.
They only needed to win once.
The plain earthpony kept a slow and steady gait. The empty outline gradually filled out with a tan coat and sandy-colored mane. A broken hourglass stamped his flank, and his green eyes locked onto me with a wary gaze.
I smiled at him as I adjusted my stance, angling one shoulder towards him while letting my hammer’s head rest on the other. The pony came to a stop a few paces away from me, just outside the reach of my weapon.
His voice rasped with exhaustion that I also felt, but faint traces of conviction remained.
“How many times?”
I puzzled at the question. How many times have we done this? How many more? I shrugged before muttering my answer.
“However many are necessary.”
He stared at me for a while with eyes full of lines that rarely blinked, as if he were waiting for more. But what more was there to say? It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this dance. It didn’t matter how many more times he would fruitlessly try again. All that did matter is that I would stand, the fog would leave, and he would die again.
Just like always.
He seemed to take the hint, narrowing his eyes as a pair of knives slid from the sheathes hidden in his mane with a metallic whisper. They were simple steel affairs, bound to leather straps that he would use to attach them to his forelegs. I let him don his weapons, idly rubbing the patterns on my weapon while I waited.
With or without knives, he always failed, so why not let him wear them? It made things at least a little interesting.
He straightened after tying on the second knife and took a deep breath.
I lifted my hammer from my shoulder and braced.
The swirling mist around us froze, the ambient toneless hum of the void went totally silent, and time itself seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl. In that stretched moment, the pony’s eyes widened, and his nostrils flared as he threw himself forward.
I brought my hammer down in a noncommittal diagonal strike.
He aborted his charge by kicking off the stones and diving into a roll, leaving him standing a couple paces to my left.
I snorted at the obvious faint and turned towards him again, leveling the bare haft of my weapon towards him.
Either he would charge in quick and get violently stuffed, or he’d faint a strike and risk me simply pivoting with my hammer. Which let me crush every bone in his chest if he tried to follow up on whatever opening he made.
Of course, he did neither, simply dancing in and out of my striking range, trying to goad me into committing.
A jab here, a spinning buck there, he was a sandy blur wherever he struck, but it didn’t matter as he always stayed too far away to hit me. He needed to come to me to win this fight. I can’t remember why exactly, but as long as I stood my ground, he would never run past me and through the gate or back into the fog.
My guess is that he wanted something from me.
I wonder what he’s after?
The pony did another spinning buck, and I countered it by batting his legs down with the shaft of my hammer, but instead of kicking off to retreat, he shuffled towards me like some sort of equine crab!
I couldn’t bring my weapon up in time, but I managed to soften the blow by stepping back with his kick.
I was still sent sprawling, but a bruised chest was far preferable to cracked or broken ribs.
I rolled to my feet, yanking my weapon into an upward arc, sending the heavy block of metal crashing into my lunging opponent’s jaw.
He tried to press his advantage, just as he always had before. Does he forget his failures between attempts?
Before he could recover, I let my hammer fall, crushing his neck like a twig. I’d aimed for the head, but fatigue had dulled my accuracy.
The pony spasmed on the ground but quickly went still. The toneless hum of the void returned, broken only by our heavy breathing. His were far more ragged than mine.
The fog receded as the pony’s time began to dwindle. I could almost pity him, but it was always his choice to do this. I’ve long forgotten why he kept returning, but maybe I’ll remember soon…
He shot me one last glance, mouth open, likely to ask another inane question, but I cut him off with a swift swing of my hammer. Metal met flesh, bone, then stone in a single clean arc, separating his head from his shoulders.
Duty done, I sat down and smiled. The sky may be black, the gate behind me might be white, and the pit ahead was certainly gray. However, with just a little work, I’d added a small streak of color to the scenery. A little bit here, a little bit there, but not too much. No reason to overdo a good thing.
And who doesn’t like a little bit of red in their lives?
I smiled a toothy smile as I ran a hand over the blue scales of my arm. They felt so smooth and hard, like the rock beneath me. Sometimes it made me wonder if I was once part of the bridge. Maybe I should ask the pony if I climbed out of a wall the first time we fought.
Perhaps it’ll make him hesitate.
Hours passed as I let my mind wander from topic to topic before settling on a calm buzz. However, just like it always had before, the fog returned.
I stood with a sigh, preparing to do my duty once more.
He’s returned thousands of times before, but he must have a limit. I have one, the bridge has one, the gods themselves have one, and if everything else has a limit, so must he.
I grunted, shifting to set an elbow on my knee. I felt tired, exhausted even. However, I couldn’t rest until I saw this cycle through. Wake up, wait for the fog, then kill the pony, and take a nap. It was a quick and simple ordeal each time. But the hours have dragged long. What’s taking that weak moron so long?
I growled as I tried to shake away the fuzziness at the edge of my mind. It was a comforting warmth, a consuming one as well. I could feel it constricting my memories, chewing them up and swallowing them slowly. As if there was a mold gnawing at my brain from the outside in. It’d started over a dozen cycles ago, and it felt like there was less of me every time I woke up.
Am I dying?
I snorted at the thought. I am a dragon, that much I remember, and dragons are immortal! We die on our claws in great blazes of glory, not on our backs withering away!...
My internal rant went on like that for a time, but it was mostly the same few points being repeated over and over again. It was just another way to kill time between cycles.
My monologue ceased when a familiar fog hissed forth from the gray pit across my bridge.
Finally.
I climbed to my feet as the blanket of vapor slowly obscured the stony ground with its opaque mist. I snatched my hammer from the ground and settled in a ready stance with a smooth efficiency borne of endless repetition.
I wondered if he’d finally get the idea to ambush me from the obscuring fog? However, just like every time before, my opponent only appeared after the mist passed.
The sandy-maned stallion nodded at me as he drew his knives from their sheathes. He smiled at my tense posture and tilted his head as he spoke.
“You give up?”
It was tempting, I admit. It would’ve been so, so easy to just let go. To just drop the hammer and let him through. I would be free of this place, of this unending duty… I scowled at him and tightened my grip upon my war hammer’s shaft. With a sigh, I shook my head, leveling the metal head at him as I did so.
I had a reason for standing against him for so long, a good one. I wouldn’t have killed him so many times otherwise. I wouldn’t still be here. So I stood, so I stand, and so I will continue to stand against this frail invader until he gives up.
Every step I take means something only because I decide that it does. Every time I strike him down, he may get a little faster, and I may lose a little more. But I will always stand. For I am Ironhide, and while iron does bend and even shatters when pushed too far, it does not give up! I am Ironhide! No more, no less!
I roared a mighty battle cry that made the rock beneath our legs tremble and charged.
My name is Ironhide, Paladin of the Order of Ivory Teeth. My hammer is Mjolnir: a sacred weapon granted to me by Lord Typhon to aid in my task. And this bridge and gate are all that separates the kingdom of Nowhere from Oblivion.
I knew all this, of course, but when little occurs between attacks, reminding myself of my purpose here helped pass the time.
I sighed as I stood, joints popping as I moved. The damnable fog was rolling in, so it was time to prepare for my duty, to brace for the fight.
Even if my blood still runs hot in the thick of it, my work has still become dull. Every time I killed them, they just returned and tried the same damned thing again. I’ve lost count of how many times I turned aside the Sun Sister’s lance right into the Moon Sister’s heart. Or how many times I’ve had to bash the worthless “Sun Goddess” into the ground. The ghostly apparitions that they call guards weren’t any better.
They were all like so many sheep to the slaughter. Not like they had many options, though. I’d almost feel bad if I didn’t know why Typhon had left them to rot out there.
I plucked Mjolnir from its resting place and gave it a few test swings. I liked feeling its weight shift in my grasp as it cleaved the air.
I grinned as I remembered the day I received it. I’d just finished slaughtering a dozen Raven Guard assassins before they could reach some insignificant monarch. There was a feast the following day with drinking, music and dancing all around. However, my reverie was halted in place as a monster froze time.
It talked a bit about duty and honor and gratitude before handing me this masterpiece of a weapon. A warhammer cast as a single object from a metal tougher than anything the land had ever known. Dozens of murals plastered the head, and my Order’s creed was emblazoned in flowing metal letters on the haft. Good times.
My reminiscing was broken by dozens of hooves striking the stone of my bridge, their owners hidden by the fog. The obscured procession came to a halt about a dozen paces away, but the weather bank pressed on like the force of nature it was.
What are they waiting for? They don’t have anything to shoot or throw at me. That much was made clear over a hundred days ago. Do they seek to parley, perhaps?
I snorted at the thought as I shook my head. They hadn’t tried such a thing in months, and I doubt they’d return to such a fruitless tactic. Then again…
No, they are nothing if not stubborn, but I doubt they’d try again to charm their way past me. But with no magic or projectiles, what purpose does waiting serve?
I narrowed my eyes, trying to pierce the mists, but no outlines were visible. Did they find a way to hide better? Did they line up to minimize their figure? Are they simply further back than I expected?
The fog encircled me, dragging thick tendrils of water down my blue scales. The air felt crisper now, like I was standing amidst an ocean breeze. My grip on Mjolnir tightened as I tried to find my opponents, but to no avail. No matter how much I spun or how hard I glared, I saw naught but vapor and stone.
Panic began to set in, and I saw shadows where nothing stood. They always came, always. Sometimes they might wait a while, sometimes, they charge in immediately, but they always come eventually. They must be waiting for me to relax, to relax my guard! They’ll find no such opening!
I gritted my teeth as I glared about, but seconds became minutes, and minutes bled into hours. I managed to remain vigilant for a long while, but my mind betrayed me, wandering around in a clearing made of fantasies.
Did they give up? The thought was almost inconceivable. They’d been at this for hundreds of days. Why would they stop so suddenly?
Time trudged on no matter how much I felt it stood still, and eventually, the fog receded. It left behind a single earth pony with a tan coat and sandy mane. A pair of saddlebags hung at his sides.
He was new.
I tilted my head before clearing my throat and calling out. “Where are the others?”
The pony grimaced at my question. As his mane swayed, I spotted a glint of gray poking out from underneath. He answered with a voice full of derision.
“The fools are trying to find another gate. As if he would allow an alternative path.”
Did they seriously think—how stupid are—oh this is rich! I burst out laughing, clutching at my side with a claw as I struggled to remain standing.
“And how exactly do they expect to find their way back? A trail of breadcrumbs? A map for the empty pit?”
The earth pony remained silent as I rambled. Eventually, I calmed down, wiping away a tear before readying my hammer. I kept my toothy grin as I asked.
“So, what do you intend then? Going to try getting by me as well? Or are you here for a chat?”
“I’m leaving.”
I snorted as I pointed behind him.
“Then there’s your exit.”
He studied me briefly before drawing a pair of knives from sheaths hidden in his mane. My smile widened as he awkwardly held them with flats of his hooves.
“Really? You’re going to challenge me like that? Friend, you’re obviously not a warrior, and I’ve handily slaughtered beings you would call gods.”
It’s doubtful that this runt would ever be able to actually make me sweat, but he’d be different at the very least. Before, the sisters would always charge in first, die stupidly, and their guards would follow in behind to stab at me with those glorified toothpicks they call spears.
Maybe this one will surprise me. A new style of combat? A hidden weapon? Perhaps he’s found a way to sneak a shred of magic past Oblivion’s consuming grasp? Whatever he has in store for me, I’ll be seeing it soon.
The pony took a deep breath before stepping forward. He paused at the edge of Mjolnir’s reach. Apprehension tugged at the corners of his eyes, almost like he saw himself before a precipice. In a way, he was, I suppose. I smiled at him, daring him forward anyway.
A spark of determination burned away his fear, and a fire ignited behind his eyes, sending the faint glimmers of confidence across his gray eyes. He spoke again in a soft voice.
“You need to win every time we clash for all eternity. I only need to defeat you once.”
The railings and stony ground of the bridge were striped with deep gouges that were just hewn minutes ago. Thankfully, any damage done seemed to simply bleed away like paint off of a canvas when the aggressors leave. I released a breath that I didn’t remember taking before letting the haft of Mjolnir drop to the ground, and smiled as its head struck my hand.
A white alicorn stood a dozen paces away with a golden lance stabbed into the ground beside her. Well, stood might be a strong word. Kneeling is probably more accurate. Gashes pockmarked her coat, and her once ethereal mane hung from her head like a wig of rainbow noodles. I snickered at her condition before stepping closer.
I grabbed her chin with a scaled claw and forced her to look me in the eyes before saying.“You don’t belong in Nowhere. Typhon said as much, stop trying to get in.”
The anger behind her glare was invigorating. I wanted her to come back—to make this void interesting. Typhon left nothing else to do, citing a need for “no distractions.” I am a paladin, for star’s sake! I know my duty is paramount, but I need to feel alive!
My thoughts were broken by the alicorn, Celestia, I believe her name was, saying, “It is not a matter of belonging or not. My ponies need me.”
I shook my head at that. On one claw, her efforts were obviously fruitless. I’ve repelled her hundreds of times, and she just kept crawling back to try the same thing again. On the other, I could understand she had a duty and would stop at nothing to do it.
“I can’t let you through, and you can’t make me stand aside.” My words only served to further fan the flames of her anger.
Her scowl deepened as she struggled to her hooves, and I stepped back as she spoke.
“My subjects need me! Without me, Equestria will fall, thousands will die of starvation, and thousands more to the petty infighting of would-be conquerors!”
Equestria? “What is this ‘Equestria’? Was it some kingdom from long ago?”
She froze at my question, her eyes widening as she spoke, “What?”
“My question was simple, pony. What is ‘Equestria?’”
Her face contorted with rage as she gritted her teeth. A golden lance appeared in her wing’s grip, and she violently wrenched its tip in my direction before diving forward.
I ducked out of the way, twirling my hammer around to smack her weapon into the ground, but she retreated before I could manage it.
We came to a halt a few paces away from each other, the only sound piercing the silence being Celestia’s ragged breaths. Her face went from wrathful to worried, and panic slowly bled into the edges of her visage.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. Her voice wavered as she spoke, pausing and starting at seemingly random intervals.
“You’ve heard of it. Do not lie. You lie. You lie. Equestria stands. There are issues, but my kingdom is there. It has to be.”
Every syllable that fell from her mouth drew her head closer to the ground. It was like she was being crushed beneath the weight of her own words. I didn’t know how to answer.
I wanted her to come back. To make me feel alive again. I want her to bring her little guards and her big bad sister. But I don’t hate her. She just doesn’t belong. She just can’t come through.
I sighed, letting the haft of Mjolnir strike the bridge. “I apologize, pony, but I’m afraid I’ve never heard of your Equestria. Ponies still have a kingdom, though. They call it ‘Dreamland.’”
I saw hope spark behind her eyes when she jolted upright. It was like watching the final embers of an abandoned campfire igniting a forest. I could see the passion there, the will, but it was the consuming kind. A warmth that burned everything to keep you going.
And it made me feel cold.
“So it does stand, even if by another name. So it does stand… My Little Ponies, I AM COMING!”
She charged with reckless abandon and strength that I thought she didn’t have left.
Thrust after thrust after thrust, fire danced in bright trails behind her lance as I parried each strike.
How? Magic is supposed to be nullified here!
I felt my heart pounding in my ears as I fended off the madmare’s wild fury.
The onslaught was endless, as if rage and love were the only things the blasted pony needed to function.
Thirty seconds in, my body reminded me of my fatigue. A minute and I was flagging. However, I held my ground for almost an hour.
Normally, a fight would last a minute maximum, but neither side could quite finish off the other.
Whenever I’d strike her with the hammer, she’d throw herself with the force, negating most of the damage. And her lance simply glanced off my scales, the fire being worth little more than a distraction.
However, as our fight dragged on, I’d land more and more hits. The bruises and broken bones compounded with her previous exhaustion.
Finally, I managed to lock shafts with her lance and twist into a hammering blow with Mjolnir.
But even as I watched her head give way to steel, I saw no fear in her eyes. Only rage.
I stood stock still for a long while, unsure of what had happened. This wasn’t the first time I’d killed her, I doubted it would be the last, but the madness dancing in her eyes. That fire, that warmth. I recognized it.
Recognized it in Lord Typhon.
Do all immortals go crazy at some point? How long do I have before insanity grips my mind? Oh I need a drink.
I shuddered before heaving Celestia’s corpse over my shoulder. With a few steps and a throw, it went tumbling end over end into the abyss. Part of me wishes that was the last time I saw her. The other was excited for another taste of the thrill.
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what I wanted. She would be back, her sister and guards at her side. I would be alone, waiting for them.
I sighed at the thought, thumbing the creed emblazoned on Mjolnir. I smiled at its message before slumping against the gate I guarded and falling into a dreamless sleep.
I just had to hold on a little longer. Even these self-proclaimed Demi-goddesses must have a limit.
It’s been a dozen days now, and the bridge is still quiet. The lights lining the sides of the bridge burn bright but still fail to pierce the void beyond. I shifted in place, feeling the smooth stony ground of the bridge under my talons. I let my gaze swivel around, taking in more of the empty black sky. I wasn’t worried about anything lunging from the depths or from above, but it was nice to change up the scenery. Even if it was all still dull.
I wish I was back at Blackscale. The siege had its downsides, mainly the alcohol rationing, but there was always something to do. It could be that the yetis were assaulting the walls, the smith needed help with repairs, or even some star-forsaken noble needed to get a message through the blockade.
How do guards stand in place every day for years on end without going mad? I’ve made jokes about them being statues with how stiff they like standing, but I’m starting to wonder if those rigid stances were a farce meant to hide them napping with open eyes.
I let my gaze pass lazily over the bridge again. Same stupid stones as before, same star-damned lights on the sides, and the same annoyingly thick mist rolled in. which was absolutely fantastic. Now my job would be both tedious and difficult. The saying goes, ‘Never tempt fate,’ and I agree with it wholeheartedly.
I sighed as I hefted Mjolnir onto my shoulder. Just because nothing had come before didn’t mean I wouldn’t get attackers this time. It’s only a matter of time before the other boot drops. Fate never lets my life get too easy.
I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen up as I let my thoughts wander.
I still don’t know if I should thank whoever weaves my fate with a hug or a club to the face. I like excitement, but sometimes I need a break. Blackscale was a good time right up until the booze ran out. I mean, seriously, how am I supposed to focus while doing nothing on a wall for hours on end, while sober, no less?
I stopped whining to myself when I spotted a figure at the edge of the fog. It was a pony, a big one with wings and a horn. I scowled before readying Mjolnir.
Am I finally going to get some action? Oh-ho I wonder how tough they are. I hope they use a shield of some sort. Bashing those to pieces was so much fun, especially when someone was still wearing them!
I grinned as the figure filled out with a white coat and rainbow mane. To my disappointment, she stood alone and wielded a lance made of gold, of all things.
I let my face go flat while I sighed at their stupidity. I could probably bend that metal twig with my bare claws. I pursed my lips before calling out to the silent stranger.
“Halt, who goes there?” I raised my hand with my statement.
She came to a stop before speaking, “I am Princess Celestia Sol of house Aurelian. Stand aside, Guard; I must return to my lands as quickly as possible.”
The fog swirled around her like a watery cloak. It made her wings hard to see and obscured her lance a bit. But the glint of gold still showed through in the dim light.
I snorted in derision at her demand, saying, “Lord Typhon has ordered none pass through Entropy’s Gate. No exceptions.”
Internally I was cheering in excitement. Finally, I’m getting to actually do something! And judging by the stance she’s taking, I might get a fight!
Celestia’s face hardened into a scowl, and I braced for a fight with a savage grin. A moment passed, but it felt like an eternity. However, instead of lunging, Celestia relaxed with a sigh, leaning on her lance.
She looked me in the eyes with a tired gaze. It felt like staring into a pair of magenta pits. She spoke in a firm tone.
“Please, just let me through. My little ponies need me. They need me or so many will die. So many…”
She trailed off as a tear rolled down her cheek. I could feel the fire within me wither at the sight. I was told I’d fight off villains and psychopaths at these gates. That all who Typhon banished to Oblivion were monstrous.
Typhon mentioned Celestia and her sister by name. They had tried to murder him time and time again, with Luna going so far as having a child killed.
But the mare standing before me? she was just a mother—one desperate to get back to her children no matter the cost. Or, in this case, her country. I sighed before bracing again and spoke.
“I’m sorry, Princess, but I have a duty. You may not—“
Celestia cut me off with a sudden strike with her lance.
One moment she was calm as a statue, then next, she stood barely a pace away with her weapon at my throat.
I’d just managed to parry it with my hammer, and my eyes widened at the sight before me.
Her fatigue was gone. Her sadness, gone. Her compassion, her restraint, her weakness, all gone.
Rage and tears were what remained.
I felt the heat.
The fire of passion.
It burned, burned, burned!
I felt my smile return as I whirled my hammer to strike back.
She ducked beneath it before thrusting again.
The lance glanced off my scales, sending sparks shooting off me in fiery waves.
She was relentless. Every block made me feel like I was fighting a falling star.
And every time I landed a hit, it barely moved her.
We went back and forth for minutes on end, caught in a grinding stalemate.
However, she couldn’t hurt me, but I could hurt her.
For me, every hit dealt a little more. For her, every block did a little less.
Bit by bit I wore her into the ground. It took a while; I wasn’t sure how long.
I panted as I leaned on Mjolnir, basking in the afterglow of victory. Celestia lay across from me in a bundled heap. Bones were broken all over, and gashes marred her white coat.
She still glared at me with a mountain of defiance behind her eyes. She was daring me to finish her. My grin widened at the goading.
I gasped, heaved my hammer into the air, and let it fall like a tree forged from iron and justice.
Metal met flesh, then bone, then stone, for the first of many, many times to come.
It felt odd, standing over her corpse. It felt like we weren’t finished. The air strained with tension, just like it did at Blackscale keep.
I smiled as I looked out beyond the fog. Another figure of a similar stature to the goddess I just felled glared from beyond the mist. Their eyes were slitted like mine and glowed softly with a gentle blue light.
Pale, ethereal figures trotted from the mist. Their mangled armor and exposed eye sockets sent shivers down my spine. But I refused to let fear gain even a foothold. I will put these sorry souls to rest, even if it takes a thousand of their deaths.
As I vowed to save the ghosts from their fate, those blue eyes grew brighter as another alicorn stepped forth. It was clad in blue armor, covering a black coat. Its blue eyes pierced my own, seeking any sort of weakness. It gave up in moments.
I laughed when it raised its war scythe and called out the command to charge.
As they sprinted forth, I screamed a final challenge, “Send me your sun! Send me your nightmares! Send me your damned! I will not fall! I will not yield! I am Ironhide!
I would not give in to anything. I was given a duty. I was given a chance to live.
I remember fire. I remember steel. I remember glory.
Where did it all go? One moment I was clashing with a line of Minotaurs, the next, blackness. There was that strange contraption they had pointed at me. I thought it exploded, but, but…
I tried to open my eyes but found that they were already open. I waved my claws around, but they found nothing to grasp. My wings beat uselessly as I felt no wind from their motion.
Where am I? Why am I here? What is “here?”
Questions ran through my mind, but I got no answers. I couldn’t hear my own breathing. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat.
There was nothing.
Nothing.
I remained like that for a time, but without any point of reference, I couldn’t know for how long. Time ticked by at an agonizing pace as I felt my mind slip into sleep.
I awoke in that blackness again. Nothing greeted me. I tried to say something, if for no other reason than to hear my own voice.
Silence.
I fell asleep once more.
More time passed as I slept, but this time I was pulled awake by a bright light.
A strange creature stood before me. It had the parts of all sorts of animals: a lion's paw, a goat hoof, and a dragon’s foot. It’s mismatched shoulders coiled in unnatural ways as it’s uneven head tilted. It scratched at its chin, and to my shock, spoke.
“Why are you here, little dragon? Are you lost?”
‘I died, I think.’ I tried to say, but nothing left my throat.
The strange creature nodded its head as if it heard my thoughts.
“Well, I do suppose that is the only way to end up here. But you should be in your afterlife. Akatosh is very possessive of his paladins, and I can’t see a lick of corruption on you.” It scratched its head before continuing, “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“Then again, what fun is there in making sense, eh?” His thoughtful expression sprung into a smirk at the joke.
I didn’t know what to make of it. This thing knew the name of my god. Our order kept that secret for thousands of years! By the Stars, how did—
“Oh hush you, Ak and I are drinking buddies. Nobody in your precious little order squealed.”
Its smile seemed menacing, yet warm at the same time. This creature seemed—
“My name is Typhon, thank you very much. So I’d appreciate it if you would refer to me like a person, not an animal.”
The—Typhon, not creature, Typhon. Typhon raised an eyebrow at me as he crossed his arms. I had nothing to say. What was there to say? I am dead and apparently abandoned.
But why? I fought so many times and dedicated so many achievements to my lord’s name. I. I followed the tenants: ‘protect the weak,’ ‘help those who need it,’ ‘never give up,’ and all the rest. I never stopped caring, I never killed the innocent on purpose. I. I…
I was crying. I could feel the tears on my face. I couldn’t feel my heart, but I’m sure it burned all the same. I’d done everything he asked me to.
Why am I alone?
I felt a pair of arms hug my ethereal form. A paw patted me on the back as Typhon spoke.
“Shush little paladin. It’s all alright. I’m sure Akatosh wants you, Oblivion just snatches some souls occasionally. It’s why I walk out here through the nothingness. To make sure none of the good people remain.”
It didn’t help.
Typhon frowned as he pulled away. “I’m sorry that you ended up here.”
It wasn’t your fault.
He nodded before continuing, “Maybe not, but I can make things a little better.”
He began walking away, pulling me with him. His scowl bled into a smile as we got further from where I was. Eventually, a light came into view in the distance.
At first, Typhon walked alone, but my body flared into being as we got closer to the light. At first, I was barely an outline. Then my bones and muscles solidified, providing me with a grotesque exterior. And joy flooded my mind when cobalt blue scales began popping into existence to cover my fleshy bits.
I was whole once more! I was a dragon again! I wanted to shout in excitement, but Typhon spoke up.
“I know you probably want to hurry on to your afterlife, but I’d like to ask a big favor.”
I tilted my head. “Go on.”
We came to a stop, and Typhon took a deep breath before saying, “I need someone to guard the gate ahead.”
I raised an eye ridge before squinting into the light. I couldn’t make anything out; all the light just… coalesced into a miniature sun.
Typhon continued.
“It will be a long and boring post, but I have to guard the outer rim of our world. Things beyond what many can imagine sleep there, and I must drive them off if they awaken.”
He gave me a sad smile as the light suddenly expanded into a doorway. Beyond the glistening portal lay a stone bridge lined with street lamps, and a gate that seemed to go up forever. A massive padlock hung from the gate’s door.
“Please, little dragon. Can you stand guard here and keep out the things I’ve banished from reality?”
I clenched my jaw at the request. I’d done so much already. I’ve fought for so long. I wanted to rest, to celebrate with my brothers in the afterlife.
We stood in front of that portal for a minute or two. Both waiting for something. I wanted to decline, I had every reason to retire but….
I sighed, “Show me my post, then I’ll decide.”
Typhon’s grin went from ear to ear as he laughed. “You won’t be disappointed my scaly friend!”
He dove through the portal before I could answer, and it took me a moment to follow. He was only out of sight for an eyeblink, but he’d somehow produced a war hammer from thin air. It was like he yanked it from a sheath made of bare space.
I marveled at the craftsmanship: the fact it was a single solid piece, the intricate designs on the padded metal shaft, the words stamped on the sides of its head. Typhon offered it with a grin, and I took it gingerly. The metal felt chill to the touch, and when I squeezed it didn’t give way like even the finest of steel would.
“What is this? Why are you—“
“It’s a simple matter to create little relics like this. I call it Mjolnir, a weapon of myth from my home. In the stories, it was wielded by a mighty warrior god.”
He stepped closer, clasping his hand over mine. His grin was malicious yet merciful, angry yet joyful, caring and hateful, all at once.
“But this one shall be wielded against gods. Gods that I cast into Oblivion.”
My eyes widened at that. “Wait, you intend to have me fight gods?! I am mighty compared to mortals and even amongst the draconic, but gods? Like Akatosh? I stand no chance!”
Typhon chuckled once more before pointing back the way we came.
“Oblivion is a magic sink. No matter how powerful one becomes, it will wear you away in time. My power is specifically geared towards affecting change, so I can slow the process while saving those like you.” He shook his head as he continued, “So you will fight no gods at their peak, just the husks that Oblivion leaves behind.”
I thought about it. Thought real hard. I might lose. I might end up with a mangled soul. And I was getting tired. I could stand and fight for a time, but for how long? How much will this matter in the end?
He asked, “Well? Will you do it?”
As Typhon pulled back, I thumbed the message on the side of Mjolnir’s head. The words on the hammer, I recognized them. They were a creed, a creed that my order followed.
“Who will we help?”
No… no….
“All that need it.”
But he’s a god, or claims to be an equal to such!
“How many times?”
I’ve done enough! More than enough!
“However many are necessary.”
But how many more? How many more…
I thumbed the creed again and again, letting the words pass over my scales repeatedly. I wanted to give in, to simple rest. I wanted to bend before the weight of time.
But I made an oath, and my word shall remain stiff as iron. I set my jaw and looked Typhon in the eyes.
In the previous cycle, the pony asked, “How many times?”
I answered, “However many are necessary.”
I meant how many were necessary for him to give up.
I stared at the ground in front of me, caked in golden blood, my blood. It was such a beautiful color. It made the bridge shine with a luster I’d never seen before. Or at least, not that I remember.
I smiled up at my murderer. He had won, fair and square. I must admit, conditioning me to react a certain way over the course of a hundred days, only to break the pattern once certainly caught me off guard.
I felt a little stupid, to be honest. It was quite obvious if I looked back and thought about it.
But there was less of me to think every time he tried. He’d just played the long game.
The pony wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t frowning either, so I asked, “What’s the matter? You’ve won. Shouldn’t you celebrate?”
He snorted before answering, “Death is not something to relish, no matter its purpose.”
I chuckled at that, “You seemed to relish it plenty when you plunged those dull knives of yours into my gut.”
He frowned while the fog swirled behind him. It almost seemed like a cloak if I stared hard enough. “It was a momentary lapse in conscience. It does not reflect my morals.”
I tried to sit up but found my arms were too weak. It almost surprised me, but there was a lot of gold around me. I had a little time—best not to waste it doing nothing.
“Would you mind giving me your name, pony? Do you remember it?”
“It is Timewind. What is yours, dragon?”
I smiled again, watching as the blackness crept into the edges of my vision. “I don’t recall.”
We remained silent, waiting as my time bled away second by second. I broke the quiet with a question.
“What did you need from me?”
“Hm?”
“You could’ve run past me at any time, why didn’t you? What did you need?”
He didn’t respond for a bit, but when my breaths grew more labored, he answered, “Your hammer is also a key. The key I need to get through.”
I weakly nodded at that. It made some sort of sense. The hammer always felt special, especially the words engraved on the shaft. I wonder what they are—what they represent?
I went to ask him, but found my vision had gone dark. My mind was fading, and the few memories I had left were following.
It was getting darker.
Colder.
Calmer.
Sleep.
My world went white.
I hovered in a white void. It felt like time both rushed by and stood still at the same time. There was nothing to use besides my own thoughts to keep track of the seconds, but no matter how hard I focused, the numbers slipped from my memories.
There was nothing. I was nothing. I lay still in the static void, waiting, waiting, waiting…
But nobody came.
I tried glaring at the blank whiteness.
Nothing changed.
I tried listening for something, anything to call out to me.
Silence.
I whispered nonsense, hoping to hear myself at least, and I was granted a brief reprieve from the emptiness as I let my own words ground me.
“Once upon a time…”
They were just words. They didn’t mean anything.
“In a place far away…”
If any were to listen to me, they’d have me dragged off to a madhouse! The thought brought a smile to my face.
“There was a little whelp, who was left all alone…”
They didn’t mean anything. They were just words… just words…
“He waited and waited, until he could wait no more…”
Shut up, shut up! Tears began to blur my vision, but I couldn’t stop speaking. I couldn’t let the words go!
“So he screamed and wept for none ever came…”
I was not alone! I was cared for! …I just forgot their faces…
“Then he raged against the world, burning all to ash…”
They deserved it. They all did! No one was there, no one came, but I remember their faces, I just forgot—just forgot, but the flames didn’t.
“He was stopped by a band of brave heroes who did something no one else would…”
Y-yes, they were kind. I remember them. Hotshot, Clover was it? Yes, them and that old cat woman, I remember them.
“They listened to the beast, they talked to the monster…”
Yes, they did. I remember! They told me—they told me…
“And they showed him how even monsters can be good.”
They had another friend, right? One that I never saw but knew all the same. What was his name?
“So he decided that when others call out to the empty air, that when others find no hope on the horizon…”
That I would be there.
“That he would be there.”
The void peeled away like paper, revealing a beautiful landscape of madness. Twisted trees of red tentacles towered into the air, staring at me with golden eyes. The trees swayed towards me, curving their fleshy branches like they wanted to hug me. Purple grass cracked and popped with eye-searing energy, sending technicolor sparks upward in short fits of joy. Even the horizon boggled my mind with its unending twists and spirals that turned the skyline into a pretzel.
It was all too much. I could barely understand what I was seeing. It was like I'd stepped into a land where the physical laws were more like suggestions!
I stepped forward, feeling light as a feather, while I ran my hand through the crackling purple grass. It felt so real, yet it couldn’t be. None of this could be. It was all impossible!
I smiled at one of the trees as I felt a warm branch pat me on the shoulder. Looking into its eyes, I saw an alien intelligence staring back. As if it couldn’t ever know my plight but wished me the best anyway.
Then a thought struck me.
I could remember. My home, my order, my achievements, the bridge, the goddesses, the deal, my name. It all kept coming back to me, one memory after another, like a conga line of my personal history!
I could feel gaps in my mind fill, aches in my head fade, and bits of my personality beginning to return. I was me! I was me!
I laughed and sprinted through the eldritch meadow, happier than I’d ever been to know that I was whole. To know without a doubt that despite everything that happened, I was still me.
I wanted to roll in the glass-like grass, to relish the feeling of being whole again. However, a familiar silky voice cut the idea short.
“You did well, Ironhide.”
Yes, Ironhide, my name. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. The voice continued as I turned to face the speaker. Typhon smiled back at me as he spoke.
“You may rest now, Paladin. You’ve certainly earned it.”
I felt excitement bubble up from the bottom of my chest as I began to whoop and holler joyfully. I’d see my brothers again, my comrades, the family I’d found at the order! We’d drink and fight and play horrid music and… and…
“But I lost, sir. I failed.”
Typhon nodded.
“Indeed, and?”
Was he serious?
“I failed.”
It was all the answer I should need, the only answer ever needed. I never failed, never! I stood I stood, I never ran! But I fell. I lost. I lost? I lost!
I brought my claws to the side of my head as images of golden blood flashed by. I’d died again, I’d failed. Why was I still breathing? Why—
A sharp slap rang out across the field as I felt my head snap to the side. I felt my panic dislodge and seemingly fall straight out of my head as I turned a shocked look ok Typhon.
He gave me a sheepish smile.
“Apologies, but I’ve found that a little pain usually straightens out the existential dread. Now don’t go panicking again. Everything’s alright.”
“But I lost.”
“Yep.”
“So I should be dead.”
“You currently are.”
“But I was—“
He put a finger up to cut me off.
“Just don’t question it friend. I could try to explain the inner workings of a soul, but it’d give us both a headache. So, let’s settle for ‘magic’ and move on, hm?”
His lips pulled up into a gentle smile, revealing a large fang that stuck out from the rest of his jaw. It felt so surreal seeing that, like I was witnessing a flaming pile of snow. It almost seemed wrong that he acted so rationally while appearing anethema to the idea of logic.
“So what now?”
“I already told you, silly. You get to rest now, for real this time.”
His tail swiped down, tearing a hole in space, revealing a set of pearly gates beyond it. The place radiated warmth and light, like a cozy hearth on a winter night. I felt my claws and talons pulled towards it as I stepped forward.
However, I paused before I could step through.
“Could I ask a question before I go?”
He cocked an eyebrow, but nodded.
“Who was that pony?”
Typhon tilted his head.
“Which one? There aren’t exactly a small number of ponies in Oblivion.”
I snorted. It really should be obvious. Hope he’s not trying to avoid the question.
“The one that killed me, sir. Who was he? What was his name? Why was he down there?”
Of course, I’d known he called himself Timewind, but who knows if that was his real name. Oblivion had a habit of wearing at your sanity if you stayed near it too long.
Typhon shook his head with a grimace.
“Oh, him. His name was Timewind back when he lived. Was a right nasty fellow, killed a child right in front of my eyes.”
He frowned when he mentioned the murder, despite the casual tone he employed.
“I tried to unmake him, to make him nothing, to set all the ones to zero, but it turns out that not even I can completely wipe away a soul.”
His scowl deepened as he continued. “Took me a long while to realize that those I erase end up down here in Oblivion.”
My thoughts ground to a halt.
He was a child murderer? I was felled by a disgusting pile of filth like that? I felt a new fire burn in my gut.
“How long has he been in Oblivion? And how much longer until he becomes less than nothing?”
Typhon’s scowl bled into a small, strained smile.
“I’m sorry, friend, but that’s not how it works. No matter how much it takes, Oblivion always leaves something to linger.”
He leaned forward to put a hand on my shoulder.
“If it’s any consolation, he’s been trapped there since before your great grandfather’s time.”
I felt… I felt a lot of things. Satisfaction that he’d been trapped for so long, anger that he couldn’t be fully wiped away, and… and sadness that a person like that existed.
I’d killed many people before my time at the order. Many of them were innocent, but I never went out of my way to slaughter children. I. I… still made those kids grow up alone.
Was I any better when I started out?
I stared into the portal ahead for a time, feeling the tugging warmth of Akatosh. I wanted to give in, to finally rest. However, if I was given another chance, he should get one too. It’s only fair.
My face went flat as I braced once more for a long post.
“Typhon, I still have more to do.”
His head tilted as the portal snapped closed.
The bridge before me was a familiar sight. Gray stone ground, faint lights on the sides, and a large gate behind me. I gave the black sky a smile, seeing if I could bring a little light to the edge of everything.
My attention snapped forward when I spotted a bank of fog rolling in. I felt the fire return and an icy hatred crept in alongside it.
Timewind was a monster.
The clop of hooves echoed across the bridge.
He doesn’t deserve another chance!
The mist swirled and billowed as a silhouette glided forward.
But so was I once upon a time.
The vapor peeled away, revealing a sandy-colored mane.
And if I got a second shot…
I felt the fire wane and the blizzard cease as a creed echoed through my head.
Who do we help?
It was a guiding light in my darkest hours.
Any who need it.
And maybe, just maybe…
How much do we do?
I can pass on that hope to him.
As much as is necessary.
Timewind drew his knives, and I readied my hammer.
But not yet…
He lunged, and I dodged a swift stab from his left.
To give him that fire…
I swung, and he retreated.
I’d need a spark…
Back and forth, we danced until he fell, crumpling beneath the combined force of metal and strength.
I smiled at the fading corpse. Today would not be the day. But perhaps tomorrow or maybe the day after that.
