Rebuild of Magic: The Other Side/Story

Chapters

The Prologue... A Dream of an Ending.
Rebirth (Last)

The Prologue... A Dream of an Ending.

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"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."— Edgar Allan Poe

~A Dream? Or A Possibility? What Separates A Reality From The Self?~

A blue mare galloped down a twisted corridor of macabre shades and hues, like a child escaping from the darkest horrors of her dreams. Her blueish-silver mane flowed against a pink miasma that filled the air. Her ears tuned to the distant sounds of battle beyond a seeming glowing blood red door at the end of the surreal but nightmarish hallway.

Left, right, left, then up, and up again. Her life’s road defied the natural laws set down in stone, taking the mare in impossible and abstract directions that would have driven anypony mad. One moment she would be running down the hall with vicious clawed monstrosities attempting to grab at her through the walls of darkness; in another, she would be in the same hall, galloping on the ceiling away from the elements of her fears.

Once upon a time, the impossible yet infinite tessellations of architecture would have sent the mare screaming in both terror and fear. However, she neither panicked nor cried throughout the whole way; she’d done enough of that in the beginning of her journey. Her goal, the ever-glowing light of the door at the end of her road, kept on shining throughout her blackest abyss, no matter how far the distance nor how difficult the obstacle. Beyond, something called out to her, something that she held dear to her heart.

The mare’s pathway continued to shift and turn as she moved down her hall of attainment. Armies of soldiers would come and confront her with swords and shields; the winds of the sky would push and pull at her virtues; oceans would flood and drown her will; canyons would rise and destroy her progress, and even the depths of infernos would open and swallow her whole; all in an attempt to impede her journey.

And yet she pushed through it all, continuing to strive towards the realm’s exit, one step at a time. Each second was a progress, a victory against the howling winds that begged her not to open the door to the unknown and stay within her own comfortable but hated sadness. But her stubborn and iron will pushed on, just as unbreakable as the beckoning light ahead of her.

An ungraspable time later -as time in itself is an illusion of the soul and ego- the blue mare arrived at a final and endless chamber. Scenes, moments, and memories hung in levitating defying windows as far as the eye could see, images of the most tragic moments of her life vividly replaying themselves over and over and over. Beyond the hovering gates to her despair and shame was a cosmic ether filled with dark and bloody nebulas.

She reached the entrance to the exit of her loneliness and watched the door, its surface flowing like water. What lay beyond this lone door, the goal of her final destination? Would she find happiness or be cast down into sorrow yet again? Was the comfort of her own reality worth living in, in her own blissful ignorance? Or should she bask herself in the realities of others, the illusions of truths and lies that defined the barriers of a harmony and a cacophony?

Her answer was final. With a heavy push, the door slowly opened outwards onto the unknown, eyes shut as the heavenly lights blinded her.

What met her dim violet eyes was harmonic chaos; the end yet the beginning of a world.

The limitless sky, once a beautiful harmony in the earliest of mornings and a peaceful serenity in the darkest of nights, lay shattered and bleeding.

Across the lands, both the light of the radiant Sun and the tranquil Moon had become unseen to those bound to their natural home, blocked by a firmament of crimson red. The once clear atmosphere was littered and congested. Rocks, boulders, even mountains floated above the Earth, denied of their connection to their mother and ripped away. Monuments, forests, and cities lay in battle-torn ruins, their debris adding even more filth to the formerly open skies.

And the blood.

Ponies. Zebras. Griffons. Changelings. Diamond Dogs. Draconequus. Even the evils of Tartarus. All hung silently in the fragmented heavens, death begat through battle with each other. The greed of power, the illusion of justice, or even the lust for survival, all were perfect candidates for the glory the battle was fought, just like it had always been since life began.

A lone dragon sped through the corpse-filled airways, its eyes burning with rage and vengeance against its target.

Unlike most of its kind --beautiful yet terrifying reptiles with large bodies, long necks and tails, scales, and bat-like wings-- this one was serpentine. As its wingless body snaked through the air above the carnage, its ruby-like scales glittered and glistened before glowing a burning hot yellow.

With the power of both knowledge and life, the dragon drew from within itself age-old magic, ancient arcane arts known only to a few. And with it, shaped it, crafted it, into a sphere of destruction. The heat of the magical flames was hot enough to vaporize even the hardest of stones, yet cool enough to be contained within its whiskered maw.

It released the ball from the confines of its jaws and struck its mark dead-on, creating a large swath of smoke that filled the air with the smell of burning flesh. The dragon narrowed its eyes as it circled around the dark cloud cautiously, looking for any signs of life. It gasped in surprise and raised a five-clawed hand in objection a wyrm, flew towards the smoke with an arrogant grin, surprising the former

A large, pale white hand emerged from the dust cloud, instantaneously crushing the wyrm with bone shattering strength, sending it flying towards the wide-eyed serpent. With a smack, the two beasts landed in the burning Everfree Forest, their tumbling but large bodies sending more dirt, trees, and bodies into the gravityless sky.

Struggling against its aching body, the serpentine dragon slowly rose up from the ground and flew eastward in shameless retreat. He glanced back at the owner of the hand and gasped at what he saw.

A giant walked out of the smoke of the dragon’s creation, unscathed and unharmed by the blistering heat of several millennia of fire magic mastery. Seven etched and painted eyes gazed into a torn world, its smooth triangular mask reflecting the images of destruction across its yellow surface into all that viewed its horrific strength.

Unlike dragons, the Giant looked to be gentle and unassuming, with an appearance that could never invoke terror into the hearts of others. Its entire humanoid body was pale, hairless and scaleless, while revealing a very lean and frail structure that would never allow it to thrive in Equestria's weather extremities.

An Ursa Major laid against one of the many mountains that separated the Crystal Empire from Canterlot, its baby Ursa Minor pitifully mewing in despair. It pulled and tugged at her leg, scared and worried for the safety of its mother as the Giant ever loomed closer. It was a fruitless effort unfortunately, but what could the cub do? It was only an infant, too young and too innocent to comprehend and understand the true horrors of what lay before it. In its full glory was its mother, the entire right side of the Major blown off by an unseen force, aethers seeping through starlit wounds and returning to the world.

The Giant paid it no heed as it casually walked from the north past the cosmic creature of Luna’s night sky, its mountainous figure grasping an equally large ornate red javelin in its right hand. Its footsteps trembled the earth, startling the despairing Minor as it cowered behind its dead mother.

Past the valleys and ranges of the Crystal Mountains, hundreds of airships soared across the broken sky towards its position, each bearing a flag of their proud nation. Equestria, Zebrica, even the Griffon Kingdoms, all had ships of unique and varying designs. Accompanying them were hundreds upon thousands of winged dragons, changelings, and other air-faring creatures of the world.

The Giant raised its head and gazed towards a gathering of birds.

A long range country-to-country mega-spell originating from across the sea impacted its side, enveloping it in a large mushroom cloud that bloomed like a spring flower. Trees, rivers, and mountains were transformed into hot gas by the high concentrated energies of the necromancy-enhanced dragon fire.

A thousand birds and insects then chirped together in song, like a choir of children singing to the heavens, as the artillery cannons of every airship lit up the sky like a parade of fireworks. Projectiles of every kind entered the cloud, from pure iron balls to high-energy lasers fired from the horns of battle mages. Arrows and spears were continuously ejected from the Earth and into the unknown, like an immune system trying to fight off a foreign invader. The sheer amount of energy managed to even change the cloud’s form and makeup, as a swirling twister of chaos ordered by the world encased the humanoid.

A burnt hand reached out from inside the disorder and brought harmony to the air, dispelling the tornado. A charred body revealed itself from the destruction. Its left side was obliterated as its skin sizzled and melted from the high heats that bombarded it. Liquid flesh flowed down its legs and onto the barren grasslands. But the beast still hadn’t made a sound. Not a scream of pain nor a roar of anger could be found in the air, its seven-eyed faceplate undamaged as it mocked civilizations.

It responded with an unnatural and impossible wink, one out of seven painted eyes flashing a bright light of salvation.

And then a holy cross for every eye exploded from the ground. Bright yellow energies encompassed their tall and majestic forms as the world burned. Battalions were vaporized by the high energies as an army was scattered, reduced to a mere seventh fraction of what it originally was, like a work of perfection from a creator.

The dead body of a baby Draconequus hung against the ground, a collection of spiral lances pinning it to the earth. Its remains were crushed as the Giant created a large footprint the size of a house around it, continuing its stroll towards the capital of the world’s most envied nation of peace and harmony.

Canterlot.

A wall of Magic formed from the affection between a lovely princess and her knight in shining armor, the sisterly bond between a sun and moon, and the hope and determination of all life left in the world was all that stood in its way.

As it slowly walked up to the unbreakable barrier of love, the burn wounds on its body began to disappear, its missing arm slowly materializing from nothing. With its newly formed arm, it grabbed its javelin with both arms and held it high above its head.

And plunged it into the heart of a world.