“Night! Night?” A silver form was moving swiftly down a rich, stunning corridor, treading lightly on the blemish-free carpet rolled sleekly across the white-tiled floor, her voice echoing off the light stone walls, weaving to avoid the shafts of light cutting in through the large windows. Her smooth ears were pricked, a look of anxious annoyance on her pretty face. Every so often she would slow, looking around her with a heart-stopping expression of fear covering all her features. Once again she raised her head, calling out timidly, “Night? SilentNight? Come on, please!” She slowed again outside a large oak door, smoothly changing paces from a brisk canter to a square halt. She hesitated outside the door, glancing around, fear pulsing from her wide bright blue eyes, before pressing one ear against the door, straining to listen inside.
Nothing.
She paused, looking deeply strained within her thoughts, before her horn lit up with a glowing golden bubble, sparkling and shining softly. The dark brown handle on the door lit up with the identical bubble, and pushed down. A soft click echoed inside the hushed corridor, and the door swung open with barely a creak. Slipping quietly inside, the door shut behind the silver figure.
A scream echoed down the empty corridor.
“This is the seventh pony this week,” a large pony paused from his heavy pacing to stamp a muscled hoof, glaring around. “That makes five hundred and twenty eight.” His gaze ran darkly over the gathered group of ponies, as though searching for somepony to direct his anger to, a being to blame. But they were all innocent, all as likely to be the next victim of the violent, brutal and agonizing attack. He resumed pacing, moving swiftly back and forth in front of the others.
“Either we finish them, or they’ll finish us. Raven, is there any lead?” The pony stopped, turning his dark, pressured gaze on a unicorn standing nearby. The unicorn, Raven, betrayed no emotion, as the Captains of the guard were trained to do, and responded with the voice of one who had lost hope; ”We have tried everything, sir, but to no avail. They seem to repel and deflect our magic, and they are too fast for us to try and attack them full-on. They are too great, we are hopeless.”
The first pony started pacing again, upper eyelids lowered in a frown, formed by anger, annoyance and deep thought. Tiny bolts of black lightning sparked around his well-built horn, fizzed from his unrest and unsettled attitude.
“Stephano, calm down,” a soft yet firm voice directed the black pony. Stephano’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he swung his head towards the pony who spoke out. But his frustrated dark blue eyes softened as they met the gentle light blue ones of a pretty palomino. He turned his head away with new-found thought, fixing his gaze on the guard whom he had spoken to earlier, and another who stood nearby. “We cannot stand by and let them take over our kingdom and torture our subjects. They will not stop on their own, so we must stop them ourselves.”
Raven looked uneasy, letting emotion betray over his features. “Sir, we have tried everything. Magic is useless against them, our attacks do nothing. We are sitting ducks, powerless except to run and hide.”
The other guard nodded, his dark grey face serious. “We have no knowledge of these creatures-our mages know nothing, nor do our Elders. We have no means of defence, and the longer we talk the more they kill. They are unstoppable hunters, and we are their prey. They will destroy us.” His gaze grew dark.
Stephano grew still, running his mind over the figures. He was proud, but not foolish. He would not sacrifice the lives of his people for his pride. When he spoke, his voice was low and defeated. “Then we must move kingdom and village. This can no longer be our home.”
His words were met with some shocked, some relieved and some outraged stares.
“We cannot leave!” The palomino who had spoken earlier cried, standing up and glaring furiously at her mate. “This place is tradition as much as it is our home, the place where our first ancestors settled and we have ruled for eons. To leave is to dishonour their will and decision, and to break tradition!”
“Yes, mother, you’re all about tradition, aren’t you?” A cold voice spoke out from the back, laced with bitterness. A silver pony at the palomino’s side squeezed her eyes shut, ducking her head, “No, Night, not now,” she whispered under her breath. But the other ponies were saved from replying to the rude mare as a cry echoed in the distance.
Not a call from a bird or animal, or even a dragon. Not the wail of a pony wounded during battle training, or the happy yell of playing foals. No, this was the shriek of a creature, or something that had once been a creature. A cold, dark beast that lived to kill. To slash, attack and rip at its victims, inflicting the worse possible things on innocent creatures. In some cases, the worse would be death. But they had seen things worse than death, much, much worse. Death, in some cases, was a luxury, freeing the body and soul of pain and agony. They had seen ponies and animals alike being tortured, to the point even the strongest in body and mind would scream for death, scream for release of the pain coursing through their skin. Beg for it to end, beg to cease to breathe once more, for the one thing that they can think of that could save them from that agony, is death.
So death can be a blessing as much as it a curse.
And it wasn’t a luxury these beats gave.
Fear alighted in every eye, even Stephano froze, heart thudding painfully loud.
“It’s far off,” the palomino murmured, eyes round and a slick tremble in her soft voice.
“But it can travel fast,” Stephano growled, shaking him self out of the fearful trance and turning to the two guard captains. “Send the word for everyone to go inside, lock doors, shut windows and close curtains and make as little noise as possible. We’ll tell them when it’s safe to come out... if it ever will be.” The two guards nodded, overcoming their fear for their loyalty and obedience for the king. A quick word sent almost all of the ponies fleeing from the room, to hide with their families from the horrible beasts revenging the land. But they knew it would do very little protection-the creatures could smash houses with a single swipe, one sweep of its tail can demolish even the strongest of brick and stone.
Stephano turned to the remaining three ponies, and it was easy to see a resemblance between them all. All had blue eyes, although the shade varied, and their confrontation had little difference, easily pointing out the aspects of the family. And just about all of them were alicorns.
Stephano was the father, a dark brown buff stallion with thick, ropey scars rippling over his strong muscles; and possessed quite a sight with half of his left ear torn off. He was the king of the land. Pretiosas was a very pretty palomino mare, with slim, slight build and a white muzzle, with lush pink-red hair piled elegantly atop her head, and a brilliant gold crown poised in the centre and light blue eyes brimming with regal elegance. She was the mother, and the queen. The pony who had commented rudely before looked most different in terms of beauty and elegance, with pitch-black fur and unruly black and red mane, with a sullen, angry and resentful look about her, and piercing green-blue eyes, going by the name SilentNight. She was the youngest daughter. The last one though, was undoubtedly related, but with confusion. She was a sleek, graceful light silver mare, with brilliant light blue eyes shining with kindness, intelligence and understanding. Her purple and pink tail was twisted into a pretty, complicated plait and her mane flowed neatly down one shoulder. But there was a strange aspect about her, for her wings, although looked and acted like wings, weren’t wings, or at least not true wings. (I’m sorry that was the worse sentence ever) There was a golden mechanical set connecting strong, silver wings feathers to her body, making up for the loss of her wings. They worked, and everypony thought of her as an alicorn, even though she wasn’t a true one.
“Come on,” Stephano growled, ushering his family out of the room and deeper into the castle. As he turned to follow, he glanced back.
Another heart-stopping shriek cut through the air, closer this time. The stallion’s eyes darkened. The war had begun. And the fates weren’t with them.
