Blackwing: God of Humanity

Blackwing awoke late in the morning, but now he was sober and felt much better than he did yesterday.

He slowly unraveled his bandages, the gauze stuck to his healing wound as he slowly ripped them off.

He threw the bandages to the side of the room, vision in his left eye readjusting to the changing light, he could see again.

He got up off the bed and threw on his pants and grabbed the brass gauntlet.

Now let’s see how badass I’m going to look.

He couldn’t help but make a joke out of his misfortune as he walked to the bathroom in the hallway.

Blackwing closed the door behind him and looked in the mirror.

The strange new, older, sadder man looked back with him with somewhat of a smile.

His eye was stitched together with thin, white thread and the colors of the pupil disappeared, only leaving a pale slate color behind.

The scar that he received was still fresh and red as a beetroot.

He fitted on the magic gauntlet, strapping it to his wrist.

He focused the energy in the gem on his scar, hoping that it would make it heal instantaneously.

The magical glow had covered the wound and dissolved it and replaced it with white scar tissue.

Blackwing sighed in relief, he wouldn’t have to risk infection or further injury with his battle today.

With that done, he inspected the rest of his body, as his back and chest were sore.

After a closer look, he only found some painful bruising.

Another relief, Blackwing was starting to feel confident again.

He opened the bathroom door, he felt invincible, he felt like he could bring down Celestia with a wag of the finger.

But he snapped out of his narcissistic trance and headed to breakfast.

The gang was all sitting at the kitchen table.

But Blackwing noticed that Stormcloud was still in her racing suit.

He walked over to the table and took his seat.

“Don’t you ever take that damn thing off?” He teased.

No response, she sat like a sculpture.

‘Alright then...”

Bloodline cringed at the sight of his face, “How are you feeling?” She asked.

He turned his head and looked at her with a smile, “I’m feeling great, besides my eye, I only suffered bruising. I can finish this thing with Celestia today.” He said in spite.

“I’m glad you’re seeing the light of things...” She returned a smile.

“I need to go see Zecora, see if she can help me out any...” Blackwing said as he stood up.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Bloodline asked.

But he was already gone... Again.

Bloodline sighed in irritation.

All geared up and full of energy, Blackwing walked through the forest, hoping to run into Zecora’s camp.

And that he did.

The camp remained in the same area as last time, but Zecora must’ve been in her tent, the flaps were closed.

“Zecora? It’s Mitchell, you there?” He said to the tent.

Her snout stuck out between the flaps, “Ah, Mitchell, it’s been a while. From what I’ve heard, you’ve made many riled.”

“Today’s the day Zecora, I’m going to take out Celestia. But I’m going to need help getting into her palace.” He explained.

“If it’s stealth the strategy you need, only a piece of advice I heed: To avoid a battle with the guards, one tough and bloody. Hide where no guard treads; Celestia’s study.”

Blackwing tried to paint the picture of the layout of the palace, he remembered where the study was located.

“Thank you Zecora...” He finally said.

Zecora wore a smile, “Go on hero, strike. Bring back Celestia’s head on a pike.” She encouraged.

Blackwing nodded, “I promise.”

Zecora returned to the privacy of her tent and Blackwing looked up at the treeline

He crouched down and jumped up, lifting him up in the air, he flapped his large wings and shot straight out of the forest floor out into the open grey sky.

No wind rushed past his face and his ears, he was only met with silence on his flight to Canterlot, the city that looked less bright and innocent from his one, experienced eye.

It was only mere months he had arrived in this twisted land, and it hadn’t taken long before it twisted him.

It made him stronger, more resilient.

He kept his sight glued to the city as he flew ever faster and closer to his goal.

His wings sliced through the thin air like metaphorical butter with neckbreak speed.

He was almost to the front gates to the stiff mannered city.

The air pounded the ground and shook as he dive bombed towards the upward moving trail of loose tan rocks.

Blackwing smashed himself on the ground with destructive grace and blew a small hole into the earth.

And there he stood on the other side of the moat, facing the pearly gates of Canterlot.

He slowly started walking further towards the inside.

But he stopped and looked to his left, a steep cliff overlooking a massive field full of flowers and wildlife.

The wind ominously picked up quickly, blowing through his oily red hair.

As he stares across the grassy plains, looking at the meadows, he wondered to himself if they'll ever grow again.

With the desperation of the situation getting graver he calms and empties his mind, his conscious.

And he picked up his pace and walked forward yet again.

Bloodline and Quicksilver were gone, they went into town.

Leaving Stormcloud all alone.

She stood in the foyer, looking out the cracked window, her stare piercing through the trees.

She had been doing this for almost half an hour straight and she hadn’t moved a single muscle.

If she had any.

Stormcloud’s insides whistled and whirred ceaselessly with a high pitched whine.

And then several gears clicked in her sternum.

She opened her mouth of plastic teeth and rubber flesh but no sound came out.

She vomited out a loud voice out her throat.

“Alright 6-B, where are they?” A female voice asked.

The cyborg that was Stormcloud kept its jaw dropped.

“The human has left and the two targets are not at home” It said with a harsh, staticy growl.

“Perfect...” The female cheered.

The robot stood frozen, awaiting further orders.

“I have scouts in Ponyville to retrieve Quicksilver and you shall stay here and wait for Bloodline, I shall speak to her through you.” She continued.

“Understood.” The robot acknowledged.

Twenty minutes passed and Bloodline walked her way up the stone steps of the manor.

She opened the front door and her sister stood maliciously close to the doorway.

“Alright Stormcloud, we need to talk...” She said seriously.

She walked around her statue of a sister and looked at her.

“You have been acting so strange ever since that race, what is your deal?!” She yelled.

Stormcloud slowly turned around and stared into her eyes with hollow cameras and pupils made of small LEDs.

The robot let out it’s ear splitting growl, startling Bloodline.

“What the hell?” Bloodline exclaimed.

Then the voice of the woman broadcasted itself again.

“Bloodline, I was afraid I’d never find you or your sisters again...” She said.

Bloodline shook her head in disbelief as she stumbled backwards.

“I assume you’re surprised to hear from me again.” She continued.

Bloodline teeth gritted slightly.

“I have your sisters. Return to Starlight Concave or they will die.” The woman commanded.

Bloodline whimpered with tears forming in her eyes.

“Come, follow the android.” The voice said and ceased to be.

Bloodline forcibly obliged and followed the robot as its limbs squeaked and limped back out the door.

Meanwhile, Blackwing snaked his way through Canterlot’s alleyways and rooftops, further uphill was Celestia’s palace.

He stood on a rooftop and looked at the city’s main square.

In the middle lied a large stone fountain, on top of it perched a large smooth stone statue of Celestia herself.

To the upper class snobs that lived here, that towering sculpture meant hope and prosperity to them.

To Blackwing, it was merely an effigy meant to be brought crumbling down.

He scanned the gates of the palace, several guards at front, and even more patrolling the walkways.

He found a blind spot that led to the inside of the palace on the east wing, and it was all covered by the protection of the buildings and a wall of hedges.

Simple enough...

He hopped off the roof and back on the concrete ground.

He rushed down the alleyway, stomping past scattered trash and puddles of rainwater.

After a left turn, he found his cover behind a series of bushes lining up parallel to the walls of the palace.

The tall window was left wide open, it was too tall a climb for a pony to make their way in, but Blackwing managed to squirm his way inside.

It was perfect, all the pieces of his plan were coming together flawlessly.

Blackwing gathered his bearings, he realized that he was not far away from Celestia’s throne room.

Celestia stood behind a stage set up near the central square, she stood nervous yet she didn’t show it to her personal workers as they touched up on her makeup.

“Good luck on your speech madam, I hope they find that Blackwing man.” Her makeup artist said to her as she patted her face with powder.

“Worry not, I shall end him personally. First him, then those pagans of the Legion.” She said sternly as she placed a hoof on a section of her narrow scar.

“Oh, let me cover that up miss.” The makeup artist insisted as she reached for another pad covered in cosmetics.

Blackwing managed to sneak his way into the throne room, the large, empty space amplified the sound of his boot’s heavy footsteps.

He carefully footed his way to the door of the study.

The doorknob creaked as he twisted it, he cautiously pushed the door open.

He walked into the study, they small, cozy room lined wall to wall with bookshelves and scrolls.

Scrolls somehow magically appeared into the room, continuously entering the room and piling themselves on the carpeted floor.

Blackwing decided to make himself at home and took a seat on Celestia’s tall cushy chair.

He looked at the seat across from his, the one he sat in when Celestia exiled him, it felt slightly poignant.

Ah... Where have the times gone?

He only had to wait, wait for the princess to return.

A crowd of townsfolk and journalists flooded the concourse, awaiting a detailed explanation of the race track incident.

Only the sound slight murmuring and the heavy wind sailed in the air.

The princess sucked in her emotions and locked them away into her cold heart.

She graced her way to the podium, eyes closed as she marched with an awe striking majesty.

She stood over the crowd, she opened her eyes and everypony went dead silent.

Celestia cleared her throat, about to start her speech.

“Citizens of Equestria. Yesterday, a mishap took place at the racing tournament in Willow’s Pass, one involving me and the outlaw human known as Blackwing.”

Journalists took their notes as she continued.

“At the end of the event, Blackwing attempted to assassinate me inside of my viewing stand. The attempt was careless at best and I only suffered lacerations and the assailant suffered corneal destruction in one of his eyes along with various bruises and injuries. Rest assured everypony; I am safe. Blackwing has either succumbed to infection, blood loss, or he has cowardly fled his way back from whence he came.”

Few ponies let out quiet cheers.

“While this event was uncontrollable, I apologize for any trauma or loss of peace of mind. I promise all of you this: Blackwing will no longer be a problem around these parts, I will make sure of it.”

A colt stood up tall and waved his arm, “Princess, a question?”

Celestia nodded.

“Witnesses say Blackwing saved a town from an invasion by Luna, that he was only protecting them. Others say that you only pronounced him dead to cover it up as his fault and he’s only after you for revenge. Ponies also say that they saw him being brought to the Ponyville clinic yesterday after the incident. Are you in fact, covering something up for your own personal gain?” The reported boldly asked.

Celestia was speechless, she wanted to break out into a fit of disgust, but she was taught not to do such things.

“Allow me to explain. Blackwing is merely a terrorist, he only saved Ponyville from Luna to pass himself off as a ‘hero’ and to gain favors and adoration. I assure you all, he is far from one. I have discovered that he has close ties with the Legion and that he only wants anarchy to overcome our land.” She said in a stern, monotonous boom.

The reporter backed down, whether it was in fear, understanding, or annoyance of her stubbornness, he backed down nonetheless.

“If anyone has other misleading questions in attempt to inflate the reputation of that animal, stand and speak...” She ordered.

Nopony stood, nopony spoke.

“Very well... I will continue my hunt for this human and bring him to justice for terrorizing the ponies of Equestria, he will be a problem no longer. Thank you for joining me today.” She finished.

Murmurs died to the sounds of crickets.

Celestia stepped off the stage, away from the eyes of the public.

The crowd dissolved and diverted back into the hustle of everyday life.

Celestia sighed in relief as she sat backstage with her entourage.

Back into her palace she went.

Blackwing didn’t listen to her speech, he could only hear mumbling through the walls.

But it stopped, he knew that she was done speaking.

He got off the chair and hid behind it, he could stand and the chair would still protect him from sight.

He unsheathed his sword, the moment of truth was nearing.

He heard the princess’s hoofsteps echo throughout the palace.

Each step throbbed in his head, growing ever so unstable.

A smile, with teeth as pale grey as his blank eyeball, froze disturbingly on his face.

Revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge drew closer and closer by the moment.

He could taste her bitter rose colored blood in his mouth, feel the beating of her dead heart in his throat, and picked at chunks of salty flesh stuck between his teeth.

He felt like a true monster.

He felt like a true human.

And then he heard the door click and creak.

“I’ll resume my studies, leave me be.” Celestia said to a nonvisible guard.

She closed the door and ignorantly proceeded further into the room.

Blackwing dawdled out, jokingly pretending to sharpen his sword as he stepped towards her with an intentional awkward walk.

“You know, taking my eye made me realize something. I’m not the person I was months ago, I’ve grown into what you’ve called me; A savage, a monster. I embrace what I am, I feel like stripping your corpse clean and eating you on your precious palace floor.” Blackwing explained.

Celestia grunted in frustration at his sight.

“And that’s what I’m going to do!” Blackwing yelled as he swiped his sword at her.

Celestia dodged the attack and countered with a headbutt, her horn making contact with his chestplate with a sharp ching.

Blackwing jumped back and aimed the gauntlet at the bookshelf behind her, causing it to tumble down.

Celestia saw the shelf fall and dash her way aside the room, avoiding being crushed.

She used her magic to fling one of the chairs at Blackwing, it hurled at him with speed.

He stuck his sword out point up and the chair landed on the sword, splitting in two clean pieces, harmless to him.

He charged at Celestia as fast as he could run, he braced himself for the tackle.

He made hard contact, considering the fact that Celestia was a half a ton of meat, muscle, and bone.

Celestia’s inertia was overthrown and she flew back, breaking through the door to the throne room in a splintery explosion.

Celestia and Blackwing both fell over on each other, but quickly recovered themselves and separated.

Celestia phaselocked Blackwing and forced him to levitate in the air.

“Any last words you ancient plague?” Celestia asked.

“Yeah, I do...” Blackwing replied.

Silence filled the cathedral like space.

“Go to hell.” He said and spat on Celestia’s hooves.

Celestia yelled in fury and tossed him across the room.

Blackwing landed on his back and slid further down the smooth marble floor and hit his head on Celestia’s gilded stone throne.

Blackwing rubbed his head as he stood back up.

He reopened his eyes and saw the furious princess charging at him.

A glimmer of light shone on her sharp horn.

And it was pointed at him.

In what seemed like a split second, Blackwing dove to the floor, away from her attack.

Celestia missed her target and kept on running until she hit her throne.

Her horn dug straight into the thick, solid stone, the thud knocked the tiara right off her head.

She was stuck, unable to move as she struggled to pull her horn out to no avail.

Blackwing took advantage of her once again.

“You know princess, you are as careless as you are annoying.” He insulted as he took his time walking to her.

He raised his sword and swung it down with massive force.

A sharp crunch and the blood curdling scream of Celestia’s pain resonated in the room.

Celestia backed off and fell over on the floor, her head bleeding from the severed appendage.

Blackwing strolled his way to the throne and grabbed ahold of the once was horn of Celestia and pulled it out, taking out chunks of marble with it.

He stuck in his mouth, and mockingly smoked it like a cigar as he chuckled.

He spat it out onto his hand, raised the sword, and stuck the opening of the horn onto the tip of the blade, drilling out the gunky brown bone marrow and spilling it on the floor.

He threw the mangled horn at her face.

Celestia watched as he tortured her ceaselessly.

She lied on her side, writhing in pain.

Blackwing walked towards her and sat on her, right on the scar.

“You know, I haven’t felt this good in quite a long, long while. It feels good to have fun with closure.” He said to himself.

Celestia started to sob softly, hoping he wouldn’t see.

But he did.

He patted her side with care.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this, if you weren’t such a power hungry bitch, we probably wouldn’t be here.” He explained.

Celestia tried to gather words and spit them out, but she couldn’t, she felt dizzy and sick to her stomach.

“It’s a shame, all of those promises you made to everyone. To fix the hunger, to fix the war, to fix me. All hollow and broken, like what your bones will be soon...” He said, trying to warp her mind.

Nobody, not even himself, saw this side of Blackwing.

“Everyone dies at some point, I did once... But rest easy, you’ll finally be at peace... I sure am.” He continued.

Celestia was bawling uncontrollably at this point.

Blackwing stood up and faced her.

She looked up at him with a single bloodshot eye.

And he thrusted down his sword.

The sword pierced straight through her chest, jabbing her heart, Blackwing was surprised he hit one.

Celestia’s eyes widened and closed, he could hear her gurgle on blood and release her life, as well as her bladder.

A puddle of stenchy yellow urine pooled on the marble floor.

The smell and sight disgusted Blackwing, but he didn’t care.

He stood there staring at her corpse, sword still crammed, his smile turned into a look of indifference, as deadpan as his morality.

The beautiful crimson pools of her shortcoming covered the sheet of icy cold stone.

Blackwing felt pleasure through her pain.

It was finally over.

His journey, his god given task had been completed.

Equestria was finally at peace.

He retrieved his black sword, it left her body with a squish, a spurt of blood following after it.

Everything went quiet.

He turned around, slumped onto the throne, and stared up at the large circular pane of green stained glass.

A depiction of a white and black alicorn circling each other, like ying and yang.

But he focused on what poked its way through the glass.

It was sunlight, pure sunlight.

It shone down upon the throne, onto Blackwing’s head.

He felt the warm radiance of the cosmos blanketing him in its warm comfort.

The sunlight had not kissed the earth in what felt like an eternity and he brought it back, him; a broken child who suffered for nothing, casted down by his people.

Blackwing looked into the star that presented itself from the vast heavens.

He feel as if it was looking at him back, as if it was his late mother looking down upon him.

Several guards entered the throne room with shock on their faces.

They yelled something at Blackwing as they walked towards him with weapons raised, but he didn’t hear them, he didn’t care.

And a single tear left his blinded eye.