Blackwing: God of Humanity

He sat on the throne, formerly belonging to Celestia.

His mind was surprisingly clear.

Yet he couldn’t focus on anything.

Maybe he was just trying to figure out everything that had happened.

He flew from Starlight Concave, he didn’t remember the trip at all.

He landed back into Canterlot’s market square.

Half limping, half marching his way to the palace, he disregarded any ponies yelling obscenities at him and easily fought off any resistance from the group of twenty or so Legionnaire assassin’s (Who successfully swept the palace and killed off the royal family and their bodyguards.) all within a period of a couple hours, despite the grave injuries of his battle with Cordis.

Limp corpses of fallen adversaries and discharged guards of Celestia’s troop littered the courts and the throne room.

He took his spot on the throne, realizing nobody was left to rule Equestria.

Except him.

He didn’t get up, he sat motionless with a blank expression for hours, remaining awake through the night and into the early morning.

He didn’t move an inch.

And now he was here, all alone.

He figured his sisters managed to leave Starlight Concave and back home.

But deep down, he didn’t really care if they didn’t, his conscious hated him for thinking that, but it was true.

Blackwing compiled all of his memories and made a final conclusion.

So this is it... This is my life now.

He wasn’t happy even though now he was king, there was nobody to share the spoils of his victory with him.

For the first time in eight hours, he got off the throne.

He walked over to the veranda doors and peered outside, down on the streets of Canterlot.

Hundreds of ponies along the streets crowded around, looking up at the balcony, waiting for him to come out and speak.

He opened the door and inched his way onto the stone balcony.

They didn’t look angry, only curious, desperate for answers.

He leaned over the balcony, staring back at all of them.

“I don’t care what any of you think about me. All I care about is fixing up this place and do what Celestia couldn’t.”

That’s all he said to them.

And he walked away.

“How informal.” and “What?” Were a merely part of hundreds of confused and disappointed phrases shared between tourists and aristocrats.

The clamoring continued until they all realized that he wasn’t coming back out, they all were forced to disperse and go on with the day.

Progressing back to his throne, he heard a sound come from the study.

He decided to investigate.

He opened the door to the study, there lied a scroll on the carpet.

Ever since the assassination, people had stop sending letters to the palace.

Must be for me then.

He picked it up and untied the tweed that wrapped the paper closed.

Crude black letters were scrawled on the scroll in somewhat still wet ink.

COME TO THE PONYVILLE CLINIC

BLOODLINE IS DYING

He crumpled it up and stared at the wadded ball.

He threw it into the study’s fireplace, the fire crackled and consumed it, reducing it to ash.

He debated whether to go there or not.

But he realized...

Was it truly their fault for all this?

Why was he even mad at all of them? Bloodline was the one who kicked him, not the other two.

What was I thinking... I need to go apologize, I may never get to see her again...

Without hesitation, he left the palace, hoping that he won’t make it there too late.

Thirty minutes is all it took to get to the clinic.

The nurses immediately pointed towards the hospital room.

He walked down the hallway while catching his breath.

Inside the room, a small group of friends lingered around the room, keeping the injured company.

Stormcloud and Quicksilver who sat very close to their sister.

Fluttershy sat with her head down, trying to avoid eye contact with the others.

Zecora who sat in the far corner of the room, looking displeased.

And of course; Bloodline, who was asleep, she was on a weird form of life support that involved releasing powerful amounts of magical energy that was packed into a gas into her lungs.

She also had tubes stuck up her nose, which looked funny in a weird ‘schadenfreude-esque’ way.

“We’re all glad that you could make it...” Stormcloud commented, not leaving her sister out her sight.

“How’d you get back so fast?” Blackwing asked.

“With my flying and Quicksilvers shoes, it wasn’t so hard getting here as it was getting here with Bloodline.” She replied.

“Are you still mad at us big brother?” Quicksilver asked in a worried tone.

That question had roundhouse kicked his heart, he couldn’t believe that he would make her think like that.

“No... I never was. I was just... Angry...” He said.

“Hmmpf... When aren’t you?” A raspy voice joked.

He pulled up a chair and sat next to her.

Grabbing one of Bloodline’s hooves tightly with both of his hands, he chuckled.

“A better question is: When aren’t you such a smartass?” Blackwing joked back.

She let out a small laugh, but her groans of pain cancelled it out, “It’s all over now... You did it...” She continued.

“Technically, we did it... I would’ve been dead without Storm’s help.” Blackwing assured.

“I did what I did for them... Don’t hate me...” Bloodline said.

“I know... I forgive you, I only wish I had realized that before I left, I would’ve brought you here myself.” Blackwing said.

Bloodline let out a smile, the first one in a long while.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said when you moved in, about thinking about my parents, the ones before Cordis...”

“Yeah?”

“I had a dream about them last night, it was so vivid, I could hear them talking.”

“What’d you hear?”

“About how happy they found an angel on their doorstep, that I was such a healthy and beautiful girl...”

“That’s nice... It’s good to know you had parents who loved you.”

Even if it’s all just in your head...

“I also overheard my name... My real name.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“...Rosemary...”

Bloodline passed away later that night, finally submitting to her injuries, my sisters cried and cried even as they left to go home for the night.

Fluttershy obviously shared a similar level of sadness, but she bottled it inside.

She was good at that.

Zecora mourned the loss of great soul, a great mother figure, a friend.

She assured me that it was going to be ok, that it can only get better from here.

I didn’t go back to the manor in the Everfree Forest that night, I went back to Canterlot.

Someone had cleaned the bodies and fixed the cracks in my throne, courtier courtesy I guess.

I told the court officials to have a private ceremony later next week for Bloodline’s burial in Canterlot.

But in the meantime, I decided to have a drink that night in celebration for her, for one tough badass of a sister...

About a year and three hundred bottles of liquor later, Blackwing continued to reign over Equestria, he actively addressed the issues of the land and did his part to fix him.

Yet he secluded himself from others.

He had mostly fixed the ever growing problem that was the landwide famine, ponies rejoiced and praised him, calling him names, both flattering and others not so, many either prefered ‘The Infamous Butcher’, or his favorite: ‘The God of Humanity’.

He lived in an intoxicated state of bittersweet euphoria, he had never realized how much of an alcoholic he was, but that’s what happens when your mother binge drinks when she’s pregnant.

It felt just like old times.

He told himself that he drank to forget the past his mind covered up, but he also did it to distract himself from the fact that he can’t tell fantasy from reality and that the life he lived now is probably only a hallucination.

He told his sisters that they come live in Canterlot with him, to live like royalty.

But they enjoyed the lack of attention as much as he did and politely declined his offer.

With numerous tournament wins under her belt, Stormcloud fulfilled her childhood dream of getting recruited to the Wonderbolts and eventually became one of their best racers, not bad for an earth pony.

Without her at the house, Quicksilver was forced to move in with Fluttershy and they made quick friends, she resumed going to school like normal.

He sent Sharp Shade her long awaited reward in Raider’s Flats, and he was right; it was indeed more than she could pocket. She, her husband, and their child could buy out Raider’s Flats and then some if they wanted to.

Blackwing yearned for some sort of companionship, so he decided to mentor a young colt in magic and contacted one of Celestia’s old students who did studies for her to do trivial studies of his own, a purple haired mare who lived out in Ponyville like he did, she was friendly and all, but she constantly shot weird looks at him, she must’ve been close to Celestia.

He managed to reform the royal military and persuaded surviving members of the old guard to join, most of them did as they trusted him.

In some miraculous string of luck, ponies saw him as a good guy, the prejudiced threats and insults were no longer spouted out and they grew to adore him as much if not more than Celestia.

With no leadership, the Legion and Cordis’s lifelong dreams dissolved and scattered across the land, Legionnaires and their brothers and sisters eventually reformed into normal society.

As tortured and depressed as he was these days, Blackwing felt pleased, somewhat happy that he managed to fix an entire kingdom with only his hands. (And magic.)

In only a year and a half, he was able to fix a populace unknowing, one caught in a dangerous trance in which it was so focused on the meaningless habits of everyday life that they’ve failed to see what was happening to their home.

After his most crucial duties were fulfilled, he decided to visit the once again abandoned manor in the Everfree Forest.

The stone steps were covered in moss with the lack of use.

The old wooden front door was mostly rotted away.

Most of the house was in the process of being reclaimed by nature.

He entered every room in the house, reliving the numerous memories of what took place in them.

Last stop in the trip was his bedroom, the carpet was covered in dirt and twigs, the window had been broken from numerous heavy storms.

Yet something was different.

On his bed lied two items.

One was a gold pocket watch, he picked it up and opened it, revealing the tick, tick of the clock and the picture of him and his sisters sitting in the living room together.

He noticed that he doesn’t remember ever posing for this picture.

Maybe it did happen and I just imagined it didn’t, it would make sense.

He slipped the pocket watch into his pants pocket.

He picked up the second item, it felt so familiar, yet he had no clue what it was.

He pulled back the small hammer on the back of the device.

Click...

Click...

Click...

He shrugged, the name of this thing wasn’t even on the tip of his tongue.

Blackwing tossed the item out the window, leaving it to decompose with the rest of the house.

He didn’t know why, but he felt a presence standing near him, a friendly presence.

He swore it felt like it was smiling at him.

He walked out of his room and left the house one last time.

Before he closed the door, he could hear a faint whisper linger in the air.

Thank you for forgiving me...

It faded away with the click of the door shutting.

He didn’t know why...

But he smiled too.