In The Service of All

by Acheron

Rating: teen
Tags: Gore, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Alternate Universe, Other, Adventure
Length: 6940

Before Equestria, before the war of the three powers, there was only "The Realm". In the world of what came before, an evil power threatens to destroy everything. But what can one Court Apothecary do when faced with such malevolent power?

In a time unknown, before Equestria, the princesses, and the Elements of Harmony, before the War of Three Powers, there existed a fair kingdom, ruled over by the wise King Guardia.

Within his court was one equine that had abilities beyond what others had. He had risen to the appointment of the court's Royal Apothecary.

When a scout comes to the court one day, with tales of death and the dead walking amongst the living, it is up to this Royal Apothecary to discover the root of the problem, and rectify it.

But when he discovers the root of it all, will he be prepared to handle it?

Published 2013-08-04 17:00:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-05-25 07:09:44 UTC

Tale 1 - Summons

John 15:13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Words of Wisdom

It is amazing to witness just what happens when someone achieves a goal they never had in the first place. To watch as they follow a path of self-denial to protect those they care about. Every creature in the history of the world understands this. It is known as an epiphany to many.

A shaggy brown head rested on the open book, occasionally rolling over to snort as it snored. Crumbs of old bread lay scattered around the heavy mahogany desk, half-eaten sandwiches still laying on their plates. Somewhere in the background, a bell chimed, although no one appeared to enter. The room lay in disarray, papers strewn all over, ink stains covering many surfaces,  while mice scurried through, collecting up small bits of what food was left behind. The shaggy head shifted, raising up as it shook. Lifting up a limb, it repositioned the spectacles that sat precariously upon its nose. A cacophonous clacking from below startled it. It stared down, remembering the stone floor and its own hooves. Opening its maw wide, it yawned, staring around at the state of the room. Sighing, it picked itself up from the stool and trotted around, carefully tidying the room as to allow its rodent companions to continue to scurry about. A loud knocking brought its attention to the heavy birch door that stood majestically across from him.

“My lord, your presence has been requested by the king! Come quickly!” The door opened, revealing a large auburn equine, its blond mane shortened, wearing a thick blue tunic.

“Right you are, good steward.” A lantern was brought into the dimly lit room, light flooding in. A mirror glinted, allowing the shaggy headed equine the first look in days of itself. Its dark grey coat was smeared with ink, its mane wild and unruly. “I should, perchance, stop at the castle baths before I appear before his Majesty.”

“My lord Dogan, it is urgent that he will not tolerate any tardiness on your part anymore.” Dogan stared at the steward with irritation. He sighed, glancing over to a cabinet filled to the brim with corked, glowing vials.

“Just let me gather up my medicinal materials, and I will be on my way.” The steward tapped his hoof in impatience as Dogan filled two leather bags with the vials. Once the task was complete, he strapped them to himself, nodding to the steward. “I will now go to his Majesty's throne room.” The steward, relieved to be leaving Dogan's strange book-laden room, led him through winding corridors. Dogan never stopped, only looking at the flowing tapestries that covered the stark, bleak grey of the stone walls. Various emblems covered the shields that adorned various doors to the personal chambers of several of the king's court. A large, but simply adorned door, rose before them. No matter the amount of times Dogan stood in front of that door, it still caused him to pause in awe. The door opened to fanfare and ponies lining the room, each tunic either gaudy with embroidery or markings, or very simple with small tassels. A royal messenger announced Dogan's arrival.

“Now entering, the king's Royal Apothecary, Lord Dogan Von Satasil!” As trumpets played, the king, an older unicorn with a white mane and coat. His robe was of the deepest red, trimmed with darkened leather. His fatherly gaze fell down upon his Apothecary. “Silence in the court. The good and wise King Eris Guardia will speak.” The court fell silent, leaving only King Guardia glancing about.

“My closest and dearest friend, Dogan. For years you have served me without fail, without a single hesitation.” King Guardia stepped from his throne, the eyes of every subject in the room following his every movement. He stood in front of Dogan, who bowed. “There is a grave matter at hand.” Dogan stood up to face the king as an equal, his hazel eyes meeting the king's soft, blue eyes.

“My king, what matter could be so grave that it requires the assistance of an Apothecary such as myself?” Dogan tilted his head slightly, a questioning expression crossing his face. King Guardia moved to the side, his eyes locking to a pane of stained glass.

“Two thousand years ago, the six heroes of the realm, the Knights of the Elements, defeated the effluent, destructive and seductive power of what many call the 'World-Eater', the mythical equine known as Abaratos.” A collective drawing of breath flowed across the court. Dogan stared wide-eyed at the king. “We crafted the very Gates of Tartarus to contain the evil that is his power.”

“My king, I do not understand.. What does this have to do with me, and the work of an Apothecary?” The king turned with determination in his eyes.

“Dogan, Abaratos, when he was imprisoned, vowed that on the longest day of two thousand years, the very ground we stand on would burn, heralding an era of blood, fire, and death.” He raised a hoof at Dogan. “Dogan Von Satasil, as the last remaining descendant of the Knights, listen to the reports of these scouts.” Five equines were ushered into the throne room, their tunics and leather armour indicating them as Royal Scouts.

“My lords and ladies, we have come with news of disease the likes of which has not been witnessed in over two thousand years. Ponies scream as their flesh boils away, whilst others, once thought dead, now roam around, consuming the very flesh of the living! It is as if Ragnarok is upon us, my king!” The scout fell on the ground, quivering and weeping. Dogan turned back to the king, who gazed upon him questioningly.

“Apothecary, what do you make of this?” Dogan set down his bags, removing various examination implements. He approached the scout, who backed away.

“No, you monster! I will not be killed by your hoof!” Dogan extended his hoof.

“Be still, good sir. I am merely attempting to reveal the cause of your ailment.” Dogan stared down with what appeared to be a hoof-held microscope. He looked over the coat of the scout, the scout still wary of him. “My king, it is not Ragnarok, nor is it much to be frightened of. It is a resurgence of a disease, yes, but this disease is not causing the equines to consume the flesh of the living. That is merely a by-product of the pain caused to the mind, driving an equine insane.” The court began to applaud, their uproarious praise silenced by the king.

“I task you, then, to find where this disease resurfaced, and remove the cause.” Dogan bowed before the king.

“Your wish is my command, my sovereign.” Dogan bowed out, backing towards the door slowly. Turning, he trotted out, galloping towards the heavy oak doors of the front of the castle. His mind ran with questions, plans, and statements. What kind of equine would be so foolish as to attempt to bring back Abaratos? I do understand that the disease is a resurgence, but I do know of the depraved power of Abaratos, including the ability to bring back the dead into a twisted mockery of life. His questions continued to rattle about in his mind as the guard equines at the front stood at attention as Dogan galloped by. The doors swung open, the ancient wood creaking as it slammed against the frame that barely contained it. He turned to face the interior of the castle, a smile crossing his face. The guards saluted him, Dogan returning the same salute.

“My lord, will you succeed as you have in the past against ailments, illness, and agony?” Dogan tilted his head, the smile growing wider.

“I will not return until I have rectified the problem. I will be victorious. There is no plague that can defy me!” Deep down inside, he was quivering in fear. He had no inkling of where to even begin. He stared down at the ground, trotting slowly until he could not move forward no more. Looking up, he found himself staring into the face of one of the Mercenaries, equines for hire with various skills. The one he had collided with was well-known for her thievery skills. Her leather armour had been recently replaced, her twin daggers carefully cleansed of any blood that may have been drawn by them. Her wide-brimmed hat was drawn low over her purple face and cobalt-blue mane. Looking up, her turquoise eyes met with Dogan's red ones.

“L-Lord Dogan! W-what a pleasure!” She bowed before him, her hat tumbling off. Dogan raised a hoof, lifting her head back up.

“My dear Hynesta, it is a pleasure to see you once more. How goes the hunt for the Helmet of- well, what was it again?” Dogan tapped his chin, attempting to remember what exactly the title of the strange artifact was.

“The Helm of the Dragon, Dogan. Even the youngest of foals knows the legends of the artifact.” Dogan sighed, staring around at the castle's town. The construction was oak, as many of the structures were, with thatched roofs and cloth awnings. The more effluent of residents afforded themselves birch planking for their roofs, the wide lane between a marked area for conflict. The peasant equinnes would often find themselves surrounded by the emerging middle-class equines, beaten down before they could even understand what they had done wrong. Hynesta trotted beside Dogan, looking around at the peasants, their smiles as Dogan passed testament to his viewpoint that it was not only the effluent, the wealthy, and the nobles that deserved his attention, but the common equine as well. A particularly large grouping of the peasantry cheered as he trotted by. “You are quite the saviour to the destitute, Apothecary. Without your aid, many would have never seen their offspring grow, or peace be restored after the Five Years War with the Valley Kingdom. Our greatest enemy became our most trusted ally because you did not notice an equine of the Kingdom of Guardia, or a Valley Equine. You witnessed disease and death, and arrived at the conclusion to assist whichever side required your assistance the most. If you had not saved the life of King Dastan of the Valley Kingdom, we would still be at war.” The information she had brought forth was well-known fact by that point. Dogan had, in fact, saved the life of the opposing king, but in doing so, had, without the motive to end the war, brought peace to the Realm.

“Yes, my dear Hynesta. It is a great deed that I committed unto the Valley King, although I just intended to heal another equine stricken with the Withering Plague, a disease which still affects the Frontier, the Outlands, and the Mountain Kingdom.” He drew a vial from his bag, his smile fading. “The price of the antidote... I still wonder within my mind if it was too costly. I lost my brother to the gathering of the Venus Blossoms I required for the final ingredient, Venus Nectar. They only found his fear-stricken face. What was most horrifying was the fact that his face was not a part of his head any longer. The blood that seeped into the ground... the area grew to a sort of coffin. The forest around must have known to protect my brother's passage into the afterlife.” Dogan stopped in front of one of the peasantry's hovels. Coughing was heard within. “Please stay here, my dear. I do not wish for you to accidentally 'catch' the Faltering Cough.” Dogan retrieved a mask from his bag, a long tube dangling down towards an empty flask.

The interior of the hovel was sparsely decorated, only various small animal skins detailing the walls. A small fire burned within a simple hearth, while an older mare lay in her bed, her coughing fits loud and full of agony. Dogan knelt beside the bed, the quilts shifting and moving.

“Mother, I have returned with a remedy for your cough.” The wheezing of the mare underneath the quilts and blankets was barely a response, but Dogan did not press. He brought forth a cerulean-tinted vial, popping the cork in the end. “Mother, drink this. It will sooth your aching throat.” His mother peeked her gray mane and face out from underneath, her almost pure-white eyes darting around. Dogan nearly dropped the vial. His mind raced, attempting to understand what was happening.

“My darling son, I am not long for this world. It is not the Faltering Cough, as you might have surmised before... although it is not far off. It is-” Dogan cut her off, fearing she would pass on before he finished his talk with her.

“-The Forsaken Death.” Tears welled in his eyes as he stared down at his disease-stricken mother, wrapped tightly in bandages. Her neck just barely peeked out, the blood seeping through. His voice quivered with sorrow as he spoke. “Mother, I will stop this! I will-” She cut him off in turn.

“Dogan Von Satasil! Is that any way to talk to your faltering mother?” A coughing fit overcame her, the hacking bringing blood to her lips. She wiped it away, attempting a weak smile. “Your father would have been proud to meet you, if he had stayed around. Always with the adventure, always with the...” Her words trailed off as her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body shook once, then was still. Her breathing form remained like a block of ice, frozen in one place. Dogan rose slowly to leave, tears streaming from his eyes. Hynesta poked her head in, staring around.

“This is where the great Royal Apothecary hailed from? I am amazed-” She stopped when she saw the mare on the bed, the grey mane and coat, and the almost pure-white eyes. She whispered in a foreign language, her body language clear. “Vdekja Braktisur! Dogan, what is going on?” Dogan did not speak as he left the hovel. “Nga yjet! Dogan!” Dogan turned to Hynesta, tears stinging his eyes.

“Hynesta, dear, sweet Hynesta.” Hynesta backed away slowly.

“Dogan, you're frightening me. Who was that mare?”

“My mother. A mare so full of strength you would swear she was a stallion in disguise. A mare like that should not fall prey to such a fatal disease!” He stomped hard, his hoof leaving an imprint in the dirt floor. “She was the only equine to help me fully realize my potential, and this is what happens?!” He spat on the floor in disgust. “Hynesta, you're not coming with me this time.” Hynesta stared wide-eyed at Dogan.

“But Dogan, I-”

“Save your speech for an equine that cares. I do not. Good-bye.” And with a swish of his tail, Dogan was trotting towards the gates, leaving a partially-confused Hynesta behind. I'm sorry. If I could say what I wanted to, I would bring you. This is too dangerous for even a Mercenary. He approached the wrought-iron gates, staring around. The stonework was such that if you even attempted to pull one stone loose, it was impossible. Each stone fit perfectly together. Tapestries adorned with the emblem of Guardia, a shield crafted from wrought-iron and oak, rustled in the light breeze that had come along. The gatekeeper stared down from his lofty perch, barely noticeable against the sun.

“Oi! Is that a Master Dogan I see? Well, bless me heart! Off on another court-ordained mission, aye? Good luck to you, friend!” The gate clanked as it rose, the iron quivering with some unknown purpose. The drawbridge, a structure made from some of the most ancient of oaks, was lowered with a crash, earth on the opposite side thrown into the air. Dogan saluted the gatekeeper.

“Good day, friend! I shall return!” Dogan sighed quietly as he trotted through the gates to the outside. Fog had rolled in, the thickest in as many years. He stared forwards, his mind racing. If Abaratos is truly returning, then I am the only one who can stop him. As the last descendant of the Knights of the Elements, it is my duty. For Guardia, and for the world!

Tale 2 - A Knight of Thievery

The price of greatness is responsibility

Winston Churchill

The truth of many a relationship is that no matter what happens, there will always be secrets. Each secret can carry negative or positive connotations. What if one of those secrets could be damaging to all? Would you tell it?

Dogan closed the book, sighing softly. He had been traveling for four days, with naught for excitement. He stared at the rabbit that stared at him with a curious expression. It was pure white, like the angelic beings of legend, the ones who fought when the world was created. He smiled, shifting to allow the rabbit to sit beside him. It stared up at him, curiosity seeming to overtake its survival instinct.

“A beautiful specimen. Stay right there. I have to document you.” Dogan lifted a book from his bag, removing a small pencil as well. The rabbit stared up at him, its blank expression a curiosity for Dogan. He sketched the small rabbit into the book, making sure to catch the light coming onto it from the sun far above the leaves of the forest he had found himself in. Creatures had rushed past him in a flurry of muted tones and shades, while garishly coloured birds would follow him along. He felt at home within the forest, where no pony would bother him with any questions about clinical matters. He was free in the forest. A voice from behind startled him into scurrying before he was able to acquire his dagger from his bag. A hooded equine stepped out from the shadows of the nearby brush, smiling.

“Apothecary, you realize how dangerous it is to allow yourself to get lost in your work within this forest?” The equine removed his hood, revealing a dark brown mane, one red eye, the other completely white with a scar cutting across it, and a tan coat.

“My old friend, it is a wondrous day if you are here.” Dogan stood, returning his dagger to his bag. He held out a hoof, shaking the other equine's hoof. “Guyeras. How long has it been?” Guyeras laughed as he stood there, his mind calculating.

“Four years, my friend. Countless times have you rescued me from the brink of death with your vials and flasks. You never stopped to ask why I would take from those more fortunate.” Dogan put his hoof on his friend's shoulder.

“Guyeras, I never questioned it because we grew up in the same home. Remember, brother?” Guyeras shifted uneasily. He remembered, and that he had left to be who he wanted to.

“I remember, Dogan. We may not be blood, but we are bonded in the forge of adventure.” They linked hooves, noddding. “Where are you off to this time?” Dogan looked down.

“They say... Abaratos is returning. And that only I can stop him.” Guyeras had been laughing, but stopped at the information given to him by Dogan.

“Are... you sure? Father told us the stories of the Knights of the Elements.” Dogan looked at his friend, frowning.

“Positive. And if I am to defeat him... well, I don't know how. I will require weapons, and companions-”

“Then you have one in me, Dogan Von Satasil. As long as either of us live, I will not leave you behind, not like Father.” They nodded to each other. Dogan reached within his bag, tossing a small badge to Guyeras.

“That is a mark of the King. Whatever you had to steal before, we have access to.” Dogan sat down, looking up at the sky. The rabbit in front of him hopped on his shoulder, sitting down. “I think I'll call you... Angel.” The rabbit bounced on his shoulder, apparently joyous with that name.

“So, what is the mission this time?” Dogan pulled a sheet of paper from his bag, reading it intently.

“We have to investigate the cause of illness within Huros, the Lakeside Village, discover the reason why Jinko, the Mining Town, has ceased its shipments of ore, and if Abaratos is indeed being revived as we chatter on, we must defeat him. It's all right there.” He gave it to Guyeras, who whistled.

“Huros is not far. Only an hour's good gallop.” Dogan nodded, following the lead of Guyeras. If they had been paying full attention, they would have noticed another figure, a shadow of something that should not exist.

“Fools. Once my master is truly alive once more, the mortals will bow before the powers of his chaotic spirit!” As like fog, it flew away, dissipating into the air.

Huros, the Lakeside Village, was once only a small guard post, where equines had settled to farm and fish. However, the usually robust and bustling village was as a ghost, quiet and still. No equines moved about their business, no guards patrolled. It was... eerily quiet. Guyeras stooped to examine a hoofprint.

“This print is four days old. This does not make any sense. I was here barely three hours ago.” Dogan stood still.

“Guyeras, that house. The door has fallen off of its hinges.” He pointed at a large house, the sign of an armorer laying in front, the sign snapped off. Guyeras nodded. He approached the home, Moving inside. Almost instantaneously, he was assaulted by the scent and stench of decay and death.

“Dogan, you may want to look at this.” Dogan trotted over, peeking over Guyeras' shoulder. There were fifteen corpses in the room. It was dark, and Dogan did not know how accurate his guess was. They all had open wounds on their necks, with faded skin and white eyes. “This is-” He was about to finish his sentence when he felt his stomach leap into his throat.

“The Forsaken Death. Guyeras, we need to get out of this house.” They backed away, Guyeras retching, pieces of his mid-morning meal spraying onto the ground.

“Horrifying, Dogan. They're dead. All of them.” A moan from behind them brought them to their senses. An older equine, completely faded, stared them down. It was hemorrhaging from the wounds it had incurred upon its neck. A soft moan escaped its lips. Its mouth curled back to expose blackened teeth, blood spilling out.

“Guyeras... this is not the Forsaken Death. The Death kills all who it infects. This is something much worse.” Moaning from various areas alerted them to more of the infected equines. “Hungering Dead... we have to leave. Now!” Dogan galloped away, Guyeras not far behind. The infected shrieked in horrific tones, their voices carrying over the dead homes, the places where there had once been living, but now contained only dead.

“Dogan! Huros is lost! The king-”

“The king did not want me to return until my mission was complete! I will not leave a job uncompleted, no matter how high the cost!” Guyeras growled, staring forward. The dead advanced, Dogan and Guyeras backed into a corner. They had resigned themselves to their fates, when increased shouting was brought to their attention.

“What ho! Is that the dead I see? Then have at thee!” An equine covered from head to hoof in gleaming silver armour. A lance floated beside him as he charged through, the dead flying from one side to another, their blood covering the very ground as a river.

“If that is not Tezune, I do not know which equine would be that insane.” The armoured equine came to a full stop in front of Dogan and Guyeras.

“I am Knight Tezune! Come with me, Apothecary!” Guyeras followed close as Dogan galloped after the knight. With a flash of light, a bright beam of coloured energy escaped Tezune's lance, striking the dead and tearing their souls from their lifeless grasp. Bright blue light filled the town as the souls of the dead were ejected from their decrepit corpse-hosts. Tezune flicked his lance, it shortening to the size of a simple broadsword.

“How you are alive, Tezune, is beyond me. How you knew where we were, I will never know. But let us be off. I do not want to attract the attention of any more hungering dead. The mark of Abaratos is upon that village.” Tezune removed the knight's helmet, staring down. Her mane was cut short, her coat dark green in shade. Her steel-grey eyes bore down on Guyeras.

“Hello again, Guyeras. I trust you are still pilfering and plundering 'helpless nobles', as it were?” Guyeras laughed.

“That was one time, dear Tezune. Trust me, I have changed. Now, for our course of action, I would best recommend that we find a clearing. This village is dead, infested by the hungering dead, and it carries the mark of Abaratos.” Dogan bent over, coughing.

“Tezune, what he says is true. Abaratos, the necromancer. His mark was upon that town.” Tezune shrugged. She seemed to not particularly worry about it.

“Then we shall find and slaughter this Abaratos.” She smiled at Guyeras, who shrugged in a matter-of-fact way. Her lance stayed at her side. “As the last remaining Knight, I make this my promise.” She laughed. “Well, squire is more like it. I am no noble.” She sat down, looking at Dogan. “Well, Apothecary, where to?” Dogan removed his court parchment from his satchel, staring down and reading.

“The Mining Town, Jinko. They ceased production of ore a short while ago. I was tasked with discovering what had occurred there for the equines there to cease their activities, including their monthly message to the king.” He glanced around. “Does anyone else feel as if something is watching them?” A rustling of the bushes startled Tezune and Guyeras.

“Yeah, I feel it too.”

“A malevolent force that seeks our end.” Tezune and Dogan glared at Guyeras. “What? I am just making this more dramatic.” He smirked, chuckling. “But, in all good points, it does not feel like a pure force. It seeks something, but what, I do not know.” They packed up their small camp, heading off towards the base of the mountain, where Jinko rested.

Within the brush, a dark figure rested, staring with anger at the three mortals.

“You three will not be able to continue past Jinko. My master, he will destroy you! He will-” It stared down. “I do not know what he would actually do, but rest assured, the time will come when he will defeat you!” With another gust of wind, the figure dissipated, floating towards Jinko.

Dogan stared off into the distance. Jinko... was still lively, the equines going about their business. Each building was covered in soot from the blacksmiths, but they appeared vibrant, full of life. The equines themselves seemed normal. Guyeras shrugged as Dogan glanced at him.

“This does not make any sense. They're all still alive. How-” Tezune frowned. Something about it did not sit right with her.

“It feels as if there is some kind of illusion here at work. We must be careful. We do not know what is actually there, only what we see.” They nodded, advancing slowly. As they approached a town, a small patrol of guards seemingly appeared from nowhere.

“Halt! State your business!” Dogan removed from his bag the seal of the Royal Apothecary.

“I am Lord Dogan Von Satasil, Royal Apothecary to King Guardia. I am here on official business to inspect why you have discontinued production of ore.” The guard stared, then laughed.

“King Guardia? I laugh at you. Jinko is no Guardia town. We belong to the Mountain Kingdom! The act of you being here can be considered a declaration of war!” The guard was about to continue when Guyeras removed his hood. “G-Guyeras! Sorry, my lord. I did not know it was you. Pardon my earlier brash attitude. It will not happen again.” The guards quickly removed themselves.

“'Lord'? Really, Guyeras? You're a lord of the Mountain Kingdom?” Guyeras shrugged.

“My dead father was lord. I am but his son. But you, Dogan, you are my family. I do not wish for my title, yet it was still given to me.” Guyeras held up his hooves as Tezune knocked him over the head.

“When were you planning on telling us? Before or after Dogan finishes his mission?” Guyeras stood back up, rubbing the back of his head.

“You do know that really smarts, right? Anyways, before. I was hoping to not get recognized in Jinko, but sometimes there are things that you cannot control. Let us continue-” His gaze turned to Dogan's satchel. Something was squirming inside. “You have something you want to tell us, Dogan?” Dogan shrugged, letting a small, white rabbit out of his satchel.

“This is Angel. He's been riding with me ever since the forest.” Angel returned to the satchel, closing the flap. “Let's go to Jinko, then. No sense in letting some secrets hinder our progression.”

Tale 3 - More Than ore

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

Theodore Roosevelt

Ingenuity is the hallmark of creation. Creation is the predecessor to invention. Ingenuity itself is described as the innate talent of creative problem-solving. Everyone can do it. How then, however, can those who have never expressed such ever hope to find their means of invention, their muse, as it were?

Dogan closed the book he held once more, looking around at the area beyond the gates. Jinko was, for the lack of more prominent words, dirty. Even the nobles of the town were seen often covered in some manner of grime, some appearing as if they worked in their own smelters just as the simple peasants did. In some cases, there was more truth to the matter in that regard. Tezune seemed very apprehensive, her armour inhibiting her ability to remain inconspicuous.  Guyeras had hid himself underneath a hood of cloth, preferring to not be noticed by the common equines of the town. Dogan stopped, staring up at massive smokestacks in the distance.

“The Great Forges of Jinko, correct, Guyeras?” Guyeras nodded, keeping silent. Dogan made a note of it to ask him about his silence later. A few scattered groups of miners were lying still, apparently weak. As Guyeras and Tezune approached what appeared to be a marketplace, Dogan split off to approach the miners.

“Spare a copper for an old beggar?” Dogan sat down beside him, frowning. Reaching inside his bag, he retrieved a small vial of blue liquid.

“Here is something better than a copper. You suffer from low sun exposure. I should converse with the town's magistrate. Low sun exposure is a horrific problem in such industrialized towns.” The beggar frowned, popping the cork of the vial. With a quick swallow, he coughed, but the sound was replaced by confused noises. Turning around, Dogan nodded. The beggar seemed much stronger, his face less haggard than before.

“My thanks, apothecary. A beggar I might seem, but I was once a solder in Guardia's army. Be cautious where you trod, my lord. There are more secrets here than answers, so be warned.” With a quick motion, he removed a pile of dirt on the ground, uncovering leather armour and a sword. In a flurry of movement, the old soldier was strapped up.

“Do you wish to accompany me, elder? I would rather be less suspicious if I were to have a soldier with me.” The beggar-turned-soldier tapped his chin, thinking for a minute. Heavy steps behind him alerted Dogan to Tezune approaching.

“Liam! Oh, it has been many turns of the world since we last spoke!” The soldier turned to face Tezune, a smile on his face. Liam, as Tezune had called him, bowed before Tezune, Tezune responding in kind.

“It has been far too long, my friend. I do miss the days of old when we would gallop into battle together!” Liam and Tezune laughed as they continued to reminisce about past battlegrounds they saw, the enemies they slew, and the lasting call to battle. Dogan lowered his head, sighing as he walked slowly. The weakness permeated the entire facade that was contained within Jinko, the heavy doors swinging shut behind a caravan that had followed Dogan and his party inside. He stepped quickly around a puddle of what he assumed was oil, though its stench was far from the odor of the crude that would be pumped from deep underground. He lowered his head again, following behind the happy tones of Liam and Tezune, only stopping once he heard them stop speaking. The purple robes of the town's magistrate were stark against the dingy grey and brown of almost everything else. From the looks garnered by him from the town's equines, he was relatively despised by the populace, something he seemed blissfully unaware of.

“What rabble seems to have come to my town, hmm? No matter. Put them to work in the mines like the rest.” The guards behind him moved slowly in their heavy clanking armor of iron and bronze, their weapons as bulky as themselves. Guyeras made the motion of stepping forwards when Liam stood forth, his scowl a sight to behold.

“You dare call us rabble? A Mountain Lord, a Royal Apothecary, and those that escort them? You have sunk beneath even the deepest pits of the Maw, Magistrate-” One of the guards slammed his weapon into Liam's face, the heavy clunk the only thing he heard before Tezune's lance slammed into him, the armor he bore only barely containing the impact of such a strike. Tezune's helmet was closed, her eyes barely visible inside of the slits as she focused on the other guards.

“Yet you attack us, so-called Royal Escort! You have no place in Jinko! We supply the ore, you merely use it and do not question our-”

“Enough!” Every equine present closed their mouths and lifted their eyes to Dogan standing on top of a metal crate, fire in his posture and fury in his eyes. He stared down at every one of them, some of the miners themselves slowly moving to investigate.

“You dare-”

“I dare nothing, Magistrate. You work your own subjects to death, barely even giving them a reprieve for exposure to the sun! Many lay dead or dying from complications due to such low sun exposure! What fears plague you that you would risk all-out war with your king in Guardia?!” He stamped his hoof, a bright flash enveloping him as he appeared to vanish, reappearing behind the Magistrate and landing a blow that forced him to kneel.

“You dog-”

“I am no equine's dog, nor am I the plaything of the rich. I serve every equine in the Realm, no matter if they be wealthy, or of no real physical means. A lesson you sorely lack.” With another blow, he slid the Magistrate towards his people.

“You can't! You can't just-” His screams died out as the miners descended on him, the pain evident as his cries grew ever louder, a guttural sound the mark of the spark of life leaving his beaten shell. Tezune and Liam looked at Guyeras, whose eyes remained wide in shock as Dogan moved towards the mines. Guyeras stepped in front of Dogan, pushing him back.

“Are you planning on telling us why you did that?” Dogan looked up, his expression dark, tears streaming from his eyes.

“A Magistrate looks after his subjects. They are equines on equal standing, not tools to be used and thrown away. He deserves everything he gets.” Guyeras lowered his hoof as he watched Dogan slowly walk past, lowering his own head in turn. He understood clearly why Dogan had done the deed, and he would have done the same. A Magistrate he had once been subject to treated every equine without so much as a copper to their name as low as the dirt upon which he now strode. Staring up at the great gates to the Jinko mines, he was reminded of how small he was, the grand designs of those who came before, mining and fighting their way to the mountain in which Jinko resided. A shiver went down his spine as he joined the rest near the entrance, a small tunnel carved out in the nearby cavern wall.

“Yes, well, we are here to investigate the mines, my friend.”

“No one goes in or out. Magistrate's orders-” Guyeras strode up, removing his hood.

“You will find that the Magistrate in question is now in the hands of the equines of this town. I am hereby assuming provisional leadership according to the statutes and accords set aside by the Mountain King for a time of crisis.” The guard stood back, readying his lance as Tezune stepped forward.

“Let us fight another time, fellow soldier. For now, let us see what monsters lie behind the gate that the Magistrate so quickly sealed.” The guard nodded, lifting a horn to his mouth and blowing as hard as he could. With a heavy thud, great counterweights slammed into the ground, the heavy gate doors sliding into slots within the very walls, the smooth stone closing over the holes they entered in and leaving it as smooth as a carved statue. Guards stood to either side, saluting as the group of four entered the mines. Dogan turned to the guards, saluting back.

“Do not open the gates until our return. Keep them sealed no matter what.” The guards nodded, saluting once more as the gates slowly closed behind Dogan, Guyeras, Tezune, and Liam.

--------====||====--------

Dogan shook one of his vials, a bright glow escaping the glass and illuminating the darkness of the mines. Guyeras held another as he stayed beside Tezune, Liam preferring to remain close to Dogan.

“I do not have many of these Vials of Liquid Sunlight, but they do last for a few hours. Do not drop them. They are... volatile if such an impact occurs.” Dogan produced a walking stick from his pack, strapping the vial to the end snugly. With a makeshift torch in Dogan's hooves, they followed closely behind him, not straying far as the dark seemed to shrink back from the light as if it was afraid.

“They are a curious concoction, but you have my thanks, Dogan, for the creation must have been difficult.” Dogan nodded, focusing on the path ahead. Hoofprints were visible in the settled dust, suddenly ending when they reached a nearby support pillar. Shining around, Guyeras was about to question the lack of guards or miners when the bodies were revealed by his light.

“Guyeras, what's- oh. They appear to have been eaten.” Dogan knelt down beside them, pressing into the wounds. Lifting his light-staff over the corpse, he watched as darkness seeped from the wounds. He stood back, quickly finding a place that was solid as he stared down the corpse on the ground.

“Dogan?”

“Those are not normal corpses. Darkness itself removed their hearts. We must be on guard, for what horrors lie in wait, we do not know.” Guyeras was about to respond when a shadow out of the corner of his eye turned to face him.

“Dogan, don't turn around. Whatever you do, do not turn around. Do not look, just run.”

“Guyeras, what-”

“Just run! Gallop as hard as you can!” Guyeras pushed Dogan forwards, tripping over his own hooves and sliding down the nearby slope, Dogan trying to regain his footing. Tezune and Liam shrugged, following closely behind with more controlled descents. Dogan rolled over quickly, tossing Guyeras away as he got up. Tezune aimed her lance, her eyes wide as she watched the darkness itself begin to move closer to them, as if malice incarnate was following them.

“Dogan, please tell me you have a plan for how we deal with them.” Dogan lifted a vial from his satchels, closing his eyes and muttering a quick prayer before shaking it.

“Just one. When you see the vial glow, run for the tunnels behind us!” As he shook it, the vial began to glow, brighter and brighter. Guyeras remembered what Dogan had said earlier about Vials of Liquid Sunlight.

Do not drop them. They are... volatile if such an impact occurs.

“Dogan, toss it, now!” Dogan nodded, hurling the vial as far as he could, the small crack signalling that something both beautiful and incredibly dangerous was about to happen. As they all turned away, the cavern was lit by the most brilliant light possible, the darkness itself burned away by the equivalent of a sun exploding into life inside that very cavern. The entrance collapsed behind them, sealing them inside the tunnel. Pressing against the stone, Dogan could hear the shrieks of pain that accompanied the guttural sounds of dying monsters.

“Our way back is sealed off. Guyeras, pray tell you have knowledge of the Jinko Mines? Whatever those creatures were, I would be more satisfied if we were far from this place before they assault us once more.” Guyeras pointed to the other end of the tunnel.

“Only one way to go, Dogan. We're going straight into the belly of the beast, the heart of the Jinko Mines.” Dogan sighed, lowering his head. He was starting to realize why the Magistrate had sealed the mines in the first place.

“Let us see what horrors this mine truly holds, Guyeras. Lead the way.”