"Judgement will commence." The monotone voice drifted down from a heavily engraved pedestal. A pale violet mare stood in the shadows that surrounded her dais. The faint flicker of firelight highlighted her face and bounced off her cat like eyes. Three pillars, each glowing orange, formed the points of a triangle around a cowering green stallion.
"Mr Wheat Sheaf." she said. "You are presented with two options. You can either admit your crimes or we shall find out." The purple maned mare glanced down from her elevated position as if looking at the pony for the first time. "Do you admit to any crimes?"
Warm orange light from the braziers dotted around the vacuous hall and illuminated the sweat rolling down the frightened Wheat Sheaf. His voice stammered and failed. His faltering speech echoed off the great stone pillars that reached into the inky blackness high above them. "N-n-no."
The mare's reply was ice cold. "Then we shall commence trial by memory." With an idle swish of her hoof, she activated the display mounted on a lectern to her side. The stand exploded with colour as a ball of white light formed in front of her. It flickered, stabilised and then rotated on its own axis.
"Guard, prepare to restrain the Deceased." The mare's words held as much drama as if she announced she was going to the market. A lumbering wall of metal emerged from the surrounding darkness. A pony, clad in full plate barding, approached as if he wore nothing at all. His metal coated hoof steps clacked on the stone slabs. He whistled a soft tune that tore into Wheat Sheaf's terrified soul. The stallion cowered on the floor and held his hooves over his eyes.
"Don't run little pony," said the guard, "I don't like it when you lot scarper." Now in the light, Wheat Sheaf noticed a lack of plumage on his sinewy wings. Instead of feathers, a film of brown leather hung from the needle like fingers. He whimpered. The guard snarled in perverse joy, revealing two large fangs.
"Do you like what you see?" A low rumbling laugh echoed off the pillars.
"That is enough Borviir," said the mare on the pedestal.
"Many apologies Judge Aura."
Judge Aura nodded, mainly to herself, as her hoof tapped the glowing orb in front of her. Light shot everywhere, banishing the murky darkness that surrounded them. A whimper escaped from the centre of the three pillars as a strange mist enveloped everything inside.
Judge Aura stared at the dome of light. Inside it, countless images faded in and out of view, each in first pony perspective. She nodded again as images of interest flashed by.
As quickly as the light appeared, it dispersed. The room quickly fell back into the clutches of darkness. Judge Aura gave it a moment for her cat like eyes to widen and restore her vision.
"Oh no you don't!" cried the guard as he jumped on the scrambling pony. Wheat Sheaf whinnied and kicked at the mass but his hooves merely glanced off the armour.
"Wheat Sheaf," said Judge Aura over the kerfuffle. "I have gazed into your memories and judgement has been passed.
"For your crimes, and your denial of them, I sentence you to live out your life in Blood Sun Village, on the western border of the Outlands. Please leave through the door on your right."
"What's that? Where are you taking me?" cried the bemused pony.
"Don't matter now," said the guard, "Just be glad you're in Mediator territory." The guard pushed the pony in the right direction and, like a dog to its master, stayed close behind.
The guard shut the large double doors as the pony went through. He barked a short sharp laugh. "That one almost slipped past me! I would've looked a fool if I had missed!"
"I think some humility would do you good." The violet pony descended from the dais. She stretched her bat like wings over a brazier and a welcome warmth spread through her exhausted body.
"I need a drink," she stated suddenly.
"Well we were due to end an hour ago." The guard pony smiled as he shook the helm off his head, revealing his blue mane over a dull brown coat. It clattered on the floor. "Is it my round? I can't remember."
"Let's just say it's mine. After all, my salary is bigger than yours."
The guard laughed, "Spirit Aura. Using your salary again I see? Everypony knows most of your cheque goes into that squalor you call an inn. But fine, I'll see you in a few. I need to dismantle myself."
<><
The journey from the Crossroads to Moon Haven consisted of a long trek down a dirt road. Spirit Aura, free from the clammy rot that was her job, smiled her toothy smile in the blood red glow of the sun. A small six winged insect lazily flew by them and into the tall black grass; its buzzing startled Borviir.
They arrived at a wall of stone that surrounded a small cluster of buildings. Each building sported red clay bricks and thatched roofs made from the grass they walked past. It always intrigued Spirit to see the buildings compete for height and space like the forests in Angel territory.
They approached the western gate. "Who goes there?" shouted a voice from atop a shoddily built tower. Inside, an armoured guard pony aimed a mounted ballista in their direction. His dented armour lacked shine and polish but what surprised her were his large mouth filling teeth, his slightly nervous posture and the lack of wings. It was rare to find a Deceased working in Moon Haven. They had a nasty habit of dying near the Demon infested Darklands.
"Judge Aura and Guard Borviir, Mediators for the Guild of the Lost. We're here for the drink." Spirit flicked her black and purple mane out of her eye. She noticed Borviir quietly reciting the incantation to summon his blade.
The reply, however, was swift and the tone friendlier. "You're late. You, of all ponies, should know to come before sundown." Spirit looked into the sky, it was easy to confuse the moon and the sun; they both illuminated the land in the same fiery red glow, leaving Moon Haven in perpetual twilight. The pony turned to another behind the wall.
"Open the gates. It's the Mediators." The gates screeched along with the rattle of many chains on pulleys. After a couple of minutes, she saw many feet worth of wood and steel, all interlaced to form a massively strong barrier, slide open. It had seen better days though. Although it looked impressive, dents covered the steel and the wood looked rotten.
"It's always made me wonder," said Borviir. "How big do demons have to be to damage that?"
Spirit chuckled. "Bigger than you're thinking."
<><
"Ugghh," said Borviir. He lifted his hoof out of a suspicious yellowy-brown puddle. "This place is disgusting."
"Only if you step in it," replied Spirit as she carefully navigated around the obstacle. Borviir grumbled and dragged his front left hoof in the dusty street.
They passed a rundown bakery. The sign swung in the wind while its hinges protested against the motion. The acrid smell of refuse, carried by the breeze, caught in their manes. The smell attracted small, spiky rodents that scampered across the road and disappeared in the darkness of an alleyway.
Spirit instinctively corrected the slant on her tabard as a bat pony flew by. The thick cloth covered her chest, her back and it drooped over her sides to cover her belly. A bloody sickle, the sigil for the guild, was woven into the coarse red fabric. She gave a cursory glance over to Borviir, who displayed his perfectly.
The guard pony stopped in his tracks. His silver eyes locked towards the ends of the street. "Demon filth," he spat, "Why are they here?"
Two creatures, the height of ponies, sauntered into view. They walked on all fours with the gait of a wild cat: graceful and agile. Their devilishly sharp claws tore up the dry earth with clouds of dust. Their patchy hide merged with their skeleton, giving them a starved look. Deadly spines over their backs swayed in the breeze. "Halt!" cried Spirit. Borviir followed behind with his blade, a wicked piece of arc-steel, held tight in his maw.
The Demon stared at them with sunken black eyes. With a shallow growl, it opened its maw full of threatening teeth. "Don't tempt us little pony." Its voice was impossibly deep. Spirit could feel the vibrations in her coat. "We haven't eaten...in a while." It bore no wings and a stump, covered in scar tissue, made its tail. Its shadow grew and enveloped the ponies as it stood on its hind legs.
"We are Mediators!" said Spirit. "You are in neutral territory! Present identification or leave." The left demon hissed. It dropped back onto all fours as it reached for something around its neck.
"Are you scared of us half-breed?" it asked menacingly as it gave Spirit a small booklet on a chain. "Does your pony blood tell you to flee?"
Borviir stepped around Spirit and pressed his face against the monster. The curved blade in his mouth sparkled in the perpetual twilight of this realm.
"Let them pass," Spirit said calmly. "Their ID is valid." Borviir spat out the blade. The weapon fizzled out of existence before it touched the floor, leaving behind a wispy trail.
A dark expression enveloped his face. With his wings splayed he muttered, "One thing...just one small thing. And I will rip you limb from limb."
"By the time the moon completes a full cycle, we will be feasting on your entrails Mediator." A globule of phlegm landed on Borviir's hoof as the demons sauntered past and shoved the guard pony.
Borviir growled menacingly and his hoof pawed the ground, kicking up dust. Spirit quickly tugged on his ear to hold him back. With a snort, he watched as the creatures rounded the corner.
"Let them be," said Spirit. "They aren't worth your anger."
"You're damn right they're not -" Borviir furled his wings "-cause I'd destroy them in seconds."
"And that's why you're my guard!" The violet pony jumped and hugged her guard, sending them crashing into the dirt and kicking up dust.
"Spirit!" cried the guard but soon he found himself chuckling along with her. Borviir rolled and lifted himself out of her embrace, pinning her in the process. A quick shake later, he stood in the middle of a dust cloud. "I win," he stated bluntly. He freed his captive with an unbecoming smirk on his face.
Spirit shook the dust from her mane as she got back to her hooves. Her violet eyes lit up mischievously, "Well sir, you may have won, but can Borviir the guard pony win at the game of drink?"
"Borviir the guard pony was born to win," he retorted.
<><
The smoky room made Spirit's eyes water. A large fire roared in the centre of inn, over which an unfamiliar beast roasted. Two Deceased sat in the corners, far away from the fire, and tried to ignore the cooking meat. The paleness in their cheeks and their hooves over muzzles indicated that they were leaving shortly. As for Spirit, she did not mind the smell of meat. One got used to it in the Borderlands, where edible vegetation was scarce.
The meat was not for them though. Demons filled the seating area. A medley of grunts, squeals and roars filled the hall as the demonic patrons fell further into drunken oblivion.
"Why are they here?" grumbled Borviir as he gulped down the contents of his tankard.
"They're allowed to drink too..." Spirit's voice trailed off as she herself drank.
"I mean...WHY are they here?" Spirit cocked an eyebrow, to which Borviir released an exasperated gasp. He pointed, mug still in hoof, at the table closest to them. Three demons, each covered head to toe in dark spines, sat chuckling into their ales. "Why don't we just side with the Angels and push these bastards back into the Darklands?"
Spirit sighed. It is a question she has asked herself often. "Because, we're Mediators. We are not involved in the war. Our land is sanctuary for those who seek peace. If we take sides, where will the weak hide?"
Borviir stuttered as his mind recited the law for the Guild of the Lost. We are the ponies of life and death. We strive for peace, live for sanctuary and hold to honour. We guide those who have faced the end and protect those who run from it. We fight for Harmony.
Pressing her advantage, Spirit continued, "To attack them will bring our home into contention. And if we fail to hold the Crossroads, who'll guide the Deceased to their new lives? Let's face it. Demon's will use them as food and Angels as throwaway soldiers..."
Borviir smiled. "Heh, I'd like to see a Deceased cross the gate to see an Angel." Spirit giggled and downed her pint. With an audible thunk, she slammed her tankard on the table.
"Barkeep!" they shouted in unison, "More beer!"
<><
A couple of drinks in, Spirit's foggy mind noticed something. There are many more demons here than usual. She nursed the tankard with her hoof while rubbing the froth from her muzzle onto her tabard. They must be up to something. Like a weed, the thought took root and would not let go. "Something is up," she muttered quietly to her drinking buddy. Borviir, whose short blue mane dripped from a drinking game gone wrong, smiled menacingly.
"You only just noticed?" His tone was icy. "I hate these creatures."
"So you've said," She was too lost in thought to hear his barbed comment.
More demons crowded the small inn. The bat pony behind the bar moved frantically as he fell behind on orders. Two guards, both wearing Mediator tabards and sporting the iconic bat wings, stood guard next to the entrance. They stared at the crowd with a passive curiosity of one on duty. The food disappeared a long time ago, allowing the flame to flourish unchallenged.
"Let's go find out." Spirit leaned back in her chair, to the point where her muzzle brushed past the ear hole of a demon behind her. A couple of spines pricked her cheek. "Demon scum," she whispered. A low pitched shriek pierced her ear as the creature erupted into motion. The solid wooden chair tipped as the creature swung around. It wrapped its tail around her chest and pressed its muzzle against hers. Small needles dug into her tabard but not into skin.
"The half breed should explain itself," it said menacingly. Its black eyes portrayed no emotion. "We do not like insults."
Borviir jumped to his hooves but two more demons blocked his path.
"I think it's you who should explain yourself to me," replied Spirit casually. She pulled the tail from around her waist as if it were a misplaced belt and met its gaze.
The second demon tapped the first on the shoulder. It sounded worried. "The half breed is a Mediator."
"We do not care!" said the first, a waft of alcohol left its breath. It went to grab Spirit's mane. She ducked out of the way and bucked the back of its leg. It fell to the floor with a yowl and a shower of broken spines. Spirit pinned it to the floor with a carefully placed hoof on its neck. The two other demons backed off as the guard ponies galloped towards them. Their open paws rose above their heads.
She whispered into its ear, "Tell me or I'll banish you from civilisation."
Its eyes widened. "You cannot revoke my ID!"
"I can and will. Attacking a Mediator is a banishable offence."
"Ok ok ok!" it whimpered, "But not here. Behind the bakery, when the moon hangs low."
Spirit relented with a small smug smile. "Deal." She hopped off the demon and approached the guards. "It's ok. It was just a misunderstanding. As you can see, I've successfully scolded it."
The guard simply nodded and backed off. Oh the perks of being a Judge. She sat back in her chair and took a sip of her refreshment while ignoring the stares from everypony, including Borviir. Quickly, the inn returned to the usual cacophony of beasts too drunk for volume moderation.
<><
The sky brightened as the sun peaked over the horizon to aid the moon. Spirit Aura sent Borviir back to the Crossroads when his stomach rebelled and his drink found its way over the table, his hooves and, more irritatingly, her tabard. She removed the red fabric and tied it to her rear. If she were a Deceased, she would be hiding a cutie mark. But this is not Equestria, so the only thing adorning her rear was a heavily stained ball of red.
With the cheeriness that one too many drinks could achieve, she headed into the dark alleyway. A set of claws caught her front hoof and pulled her in. She cried out into a thick scaly hand. Only a small whine escaped from her maw.
A pale face emerged from the shadows. "Shhh..." it whispered as it placed a thorny finger over its maw. "They do not know we are here."
Spirit nodded and it let go. The creature twitched and it's gaze darted from side to side as if something was about to jump out of the shadows. "This is bad..." it said. "We should not be doing this."
"Do you want your ID?" whispered Spirit as she regained her composure.
"Yesss!" It hissed but the scuttling of rodents stopped it in its tracks. "We'll tell you everything...just don't take our ID away."
"I'm listening."
<><
This is terrible news! Spirit dashed around the bakery, leaving the nervous demon in her wake. She rounded the corner to the gate and hailed the guard. The armoured Deceased waved his hoof in an upward motion. With a nod of gratitude, she pushed herself into the sky. Not one ballista turned to track her flight path. Air pushed against her, ruffling her mane and tugging at her tail. She banked to the right to save her looking into the daybreak that illuminated Moon Haven in the same reddish hue. Her destination was the great spire that marked the Crossroads...her home. The structure of stone and metal surrounded a central point. In the centre, an obsidian tower shot into the air and left an ominous shadow across the landscape. That was the Equestrian Gate: the starting point for generations of pony folk. On it, a great red tapestry bore the bloody sickle.
Her body swerved to the right. She flew north and over rolling hills of prickly black grass.
"What am I doing?" she shouted into the air. She took a nervous glance at the rapidly disappearing spire behind her. She contemplated turning back several times but to do so felt wrong.
I can't do this! This is against the Mediator code. This will get me killed! Spirit's flight path wobbled as she once again turned towards home. However, she could not just sit by any longer. From what the demon said, it was not a skirmish or patrol of Demons that had entered the Borderlands. It was an army!
Surely it's not treason to warn the Angels. It's not like I'm fighting for them. Her heart rate quickened and she started panting. A whine subconsciously left her throat. Yet she continued on, unable to shake the feeling that the Angels need to know...
Ahead, a small litter of tents and campfires clumped together in a small clearing. Scents of unwashed feathers and cooking meat filled the sky. The fabric of the tents shone a brilliant white.
Spirit landed before a three compartment tent. The central part stood two pony lengths high. A white tabard bearing two stars on either side of a downward facing long sword fluttered on a standard. Before she was noticed, she pulled the tent flap over her head and entered.
The sight of an Angel, even without the battle armour, always stopped her in her tracks. This bipedal figure stood over a table and played with figures over a large map. A small beak on his face clacked as the old birdlike creature mouthed words to himself. His hands and feet sported eagle like claws and talons that scratched the paint of the little figures. White feathers sprouted over its body making it shine in the dingy oil light. However, it was the wings that amazed Spirit. Two huge sails, both covered in the same white plumage, rested on his back. When spread out, the wingspan could easily surpass the length of an entire wagon.
"Mediator," he clucked in an alien but friendly tone. "My scouts told me it was you. It's been a while. Come to raid an old bird's alcohol rations?"
"This is not about alcohol Commander Viviscien." Spirit trotted up to the commander and took a look at the map. She tutted.
"Look commander, you know as well as I do I'm not supposed to help you. I am a Mediator and therefore not part of this war."
Her violet eyes met his hawk like gaze. His beak unconsciously clacked shut from the unexpected eye contact. "Close your eyes."
"Judge Aura, what are you doing?" he asked curiously.
"Just do it." Viviscien grumbled but turned to fiddle with something in a large wooden chest. Spirit nodded and took the small figures for demons and placed them on the map. Three regiments by Moon Haven, one in the Grasslands and a full squad of bulls approaching from the east...
"Come here." Spirit stood to the side and watched as the old bird screeched. He lifted each figure to inspect as if he did not believe what he saw.
"Are you sure? How have our scouts not reported this?"
"They're dead and you now have changelings in your ranks."
The Angel turned and softly grabbed her shoulder. "How do you know this? Spirit, I need to know!"
"Soldier," she replied. "A drunk soldier."
"Ah the old ID trick?" Viviscien relaxed and chuckled. "Spirit, once again I am forever in your debt. You may have prevented an assault that would penetrate deep into our territory." He hugged her. "You just saved thousands of lives."
"No I did not!" Spirit backed out of his embrace and headed for the tent flap. "I was never here. You did not get this from me. I did not save the day." She hid her nervousness with a smile. I don't want you to die...
"Of course you did not. Now leave Mediator, I have a defence to plan."
<><
Spirit spent the next week with one eye fixed towards the sky. The moon was due to complete the cycle. She welcomed the Deceased to this world with even less fervour than usual. Most ponies she met were happy and gentle souls, fully unprepared for the rigors of this world. However, she shipped them off according to their judgement. Most likely to their deaths, she thought as she crossed off an opening in Shale Town.
She spent the last couple of days drinking in her room as her thoughts turned morbid. Borviir visited her often, adding his merriment to banish her melancholy.
Arrrrooooooooo! A horn sounded from somewhere inside the complex. Spirit woke from her restless slumber. Training and discipline helped her to don her armour. On went a breastplate, bearing the mark of the bloody sickle. With it, layers of plate protected her back. Underneath, a layer of chainmail lined her stomach. She quickly fed her violet sinewy wings through small slits in the barding and experimentally stretched and folded them to make sure it was comfortable. Lastly, her helmet went on. Red painted metal ran along her muzzle and curved around the back of her eyes to protect her cheek.
Fully protected, she ran out into the courtyard. Many lines of Mediators stood in orderly rows. Spirit, along with others, found her place among the ranks. A buzz of general confusion filled the open space.
"Mediators!" shouted a high ranking bat pony. She took to the sky; rows upon rows of heads followed her ascent. "A demon assault has begun just north of here. The Angels, however, were tipped off about this assault by an unidentified bat pony. This means a large battle is about to commence around our lands. It is our sworn duty to protect our territory. We shall fly out and meet any stragglers, be it Angel or Demon, which stray into our land. "
Silence filled the courtyard as soldiers realised that this was not a drill. The officer pony barked orders. In two's, a judge and their guard, they shot into the sky.
"Judge Aura and Guard Borviir!" shouted the airborne pony. "You shall guard the Northern Road. Make sure none slip your vigil."
Spirit and Borviir nodded and took to the sky.
<><
"Look at it," said Borviir in amazement. In the distance, thousands of strange shapes moved in clumps of red, brown and black. They closed in on a strongly fortified position. Small white winged creatures frantically worked on wooden machinery. Even from the distance, Spirit could appreciate the size of the siege engines rolling into the battlefield. Lumps of rock littered the side of the machines, ready to be thrown into the fray.
A screech stole their sight from the Angels back to the Demons. Fifteen bulls, each a mountain of flesh and spines that dominated over the sea of demons, slowly lumbered their way to the frontlines. Their heads were solid bone and they bore a jaw that could crush houses. A great horn protruded from their skulls, promising death to any that dared stand in their way. Their booming roars were like a clap of thunder.
"How did Bulls of all creatures get here without our knowing?" whispered Borviir.
Boom-oom boom-oom... The drums of war sounded as Angels took to the sky. The beat was slow and rhythmic, mimicking the wing beats of the defending army.
Suddenly, the demons charged. They were met with a volley of stones. The catapults fired round after round, throwing boulders into the sky as if they were pebbles. The Angels dive-bombed the encroaching army, slaying demons with blades that glowed white. Archers from both sides fired, darkening the sky with arrows. Angels fell lifeless from the sky to disappear in the sea of claws and fangs. Brilliant claps of white light exploded like a fireworks display, felling row upon row of Angels.
The Bulls lowered their horns and charged. Demons and land based Angels alike fell underneath their crushing steps. The first layer of barricades burst into splinters as the Bulls charged through. The ballistae fired. Hundreds of bolts, each the size of a tree trunk, tore into the rolling mass of flesh. The gigantic beasts roared in pain as parts of their body were torn from them in a fountain of gore. Another round of bolts flew, and the last of the bulls collapsed.
Demons streamed over the multitude of corpses and they met a fully prepared regiment of Angels. The two clashed and fought. It was claw against talon, fangs against swords. The unrelenting stream of demons pushed The Angels back. Catapults collapsed as their operators fled the onslaught.
The Angels rallied, funnelling the horde into a suspicious patch of land. One singular fire arrow fell into the mass of claws and teeth. The pitch underneath the assailants caught alight and spread like wildfire.
The screams of hundreds carried through the air to Spirit. The scent of blood and burnt flesh soon wafted over to them. Spirit gagged from the smell while Borviir remained impassive.
The battle lasted for many hours. Spirit watched as the line of Angels retreated over pre-pitched patches of land and then burnt their assailants. She stared into the fog of dust and heard a faint cheer echo its way to her. It was over.
She heard the order to return to the Crossroads.
<><
The Crossroads spent the rest of the week in a state of lock down as senior ponies worked out who tipped off the Angels. Spirit could not concentrate, she felt twitchy and she jumped at any small sound. Her stomach had turned upside down, filling her insides with the pain of illness. She knew what she had done. She knew she could not possibly get away with it.
Spirit shook the crippling thoughts out of her head and returned to the matter at hand. She stood on top of her dais and stared down at a nervous looking yellow pegasus. The gate never closes. The job never ends. And neither will I, she thought.
"Ms White Loaf. For your caring nature and your baking ability, I am please to say that I can offer you residency in Home-Nest, the Angel capital." The pony stared at her with wide teary eyes.
"What about my family?" she asked.
"Once you have crossed through the gate, you cannot return. I'm sorry, but you cannot go back to them." The yellow pony stared at the floor. After a moment, she looked back up with a gaze of determination.
"It's ok," the pegasus muttered, "I have said my goodbyes."
Spirit's heart jerked in her chest and tears welled in her eyes. Am I ready to say my goodbyes? Borviir, still armoured, quickly cut in. "I cannot recommend this enough. Home-Nest is a wonderful place."
The yellow pegasus gave a weak smile. "Thank you," she said. "Will my...deceased relatives be here?"
"Maybe, maybe not," said Spirit as she wiped a tear with a hoof. "There's a group of ponies dedicated to reuniting relatives. Ask them. But now, could you leave through the left door? This session is over."
The yellow pegasus nodded and walked towards Borviir, whom held the door open for her. He nodded to the mare before closing the great oak door behind her.
"You ok?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Spirit replied. Her voice squeaked and she deliberately avoided his gaze.
"What's wrong?"
"I...I...I think I've made a huge mistake."
The doors behind the dais slammed open, startling both ponies. "Judge Aura!" The voice came from the commanding Officer. "Seize her!"
Borviir's face turned to worry, "Spirit, what did you do?"
Two bat ponies advanced on her with conjured javelins at the ready. Spirit froze. She focused on the deadly points, unable to come to a decision.
"Spirit!" shouted Borviir. He shook her until she refocused on his face. Behind him, the guards closed the distance. "Run!" he shouted.
He turned and summoned his blade. He easily smashed the first javelin with a practiced swing and he rammed the guard. They both fell to the floor, bucking wildly.
Spirit's wings found air as she took off. The second guard pursued. She banked quickly and flew the only way available to her: Towards the entrance only the Deceased traverse. She smashed into the doors, flinging them open. The shock stunned her and she collapsed to the floor. The guard closed the distance. A javelin reflected off the stone floor, flying harmlessly away. The guard prepared to throw another.
Spirit frantically found her hooves, slipping a couple of times on the slick surface. She galloped outside and into the forbidden zone that surrounded the Equestrian Gate.
She galloped onto a patch of green grass around the Gate. On it, a riot of colour bloomed in the form of hundreds of small flowers. The sight blinded her. Ponies of all colours and sizes, all Deceased, idled here. Many were undergoing the stages of mourning. Some wore the Guild tabards. Each one turned to stare at her.
Spirit flew close to the ground. At least she could die in battle instead of the fall. She looked around and panicked. Above her, great glass panels prevented an aerial escape. She flew full circuit around the tower. Guards blocked her passage out. She was trapped.
A large green aura caught her gaze. The tower opened up to reveal a mist that suggested a vast empty space. Maybe I can hide in there. She took a glance around, noticed that the guard had lost sight of her around the circular structure, and made the decision. Tears streamed down her face. Why did I do it? She wanted to give up, but gravity forced her dive to continue. She flew into the tower...
Sheer agony corrupted her mind. She wanted to scream but no sound emerged. She tried to open her eyes but complete darkness prevailed. She heard nothing but the sound of her own mind breaking.
<><
Spirit woke with a start. Her lungs burnt as she gulped the welcome air. Sweat drenched her mane and her muscles cramped as she moved them. She wobbled to her hooves and, with an unfocused gaze, she surveyed her surroundings.
She was in a field. She stared in bewilderment at the green grass. Somepony once told her of grass that grew in this colour. She thought it was alcohol talking. She gasped. The sky was blue! Dizziness pushed her to the floor as the vast amount of colour overwhelmed her senses. She spied the source of all the light.
She screamed.
Spirit lay on the floor with hooves over her eyes. Even with her eyes shut, she saw a ghostly circular silhouette hover in the comforting darkness. It's so bright! Stories were told about a sun of unimaginable power...This was Equestria.
She dared to check herself over, conscious about the blazing inferno high above her. She was unscarred. Breathing a sigh of relief, she took to the sky.
Spirit stopped to look at a sea of fluffy green trees. She stared at it dumbfounded. How can a land hold this much vegetation? Why is it all green? Maybe she could ask somepony that...
A thought struck her. Of course! The Deceased always talk about their 'benevolent' leaders...Maybe they can help me.
Spirit cast her mind back, sifting through years of other ponies memories. She remembered a castle...in a mountain. It was only a simple glance up to see where she had to go. In the distance, a large rock formation broke the cloud cover. On it, she made out small spires of something ponymade.
Acres of fields and open land separated her from her goal. Beams of sunlight broke the cloud cover, illuminating the ground like spotlights in a night raid. Small birds flew in the cooling breeze, enjoying the warm sunny day. Below, she saw an earthbound pony pulling a cart of apples. The mare struggled with the great weight but continued on nevertheless. Spirit flew on, letting her bat wings guide her to her destination.
<><
Canterlot, as it turns out, is more than just a castle. A huge bustling city sprawled below Spirit as she cast her gaze towards the castle entrance. The sheer number of ponies scared her. Suddenly, her wings lost its attractiveness and she cursed her fangs. To them...I'm a freak! Spirit's eyes lit up with panic as her height exposed her. It was only a matter of time before she was noticed.
Without hesitation, Spirit flew down to the gate house and greeted the guard. His eyes widened as she prowled up to him. Her cat like eyes stared him down and her graceful saunter exposed leather webbing instead of feathered wings. He lowered his spear at her.
"What sort of magic is this!" he cried. "Dispel it at once!"
Spirit stuttered and took a step backwards. "Please...I need to talk to your leader." Light bounced off her fangs. The soldier mouthed something unintelligible and aimed his spear at her heart. She gulped as her worrisome eyes followed the deadly tip. "Please..." she said with ears flat against her skull.
The shaken guard looked left then right. "Stay here..." He ran inside.
A couple of moments later, an escort arrived to greet her. "The Princess will see you," said one of them. Each pony walked in golden armour and had a stern expression. Spirit brought the words to summon her sword to the front of her mind, just in case.
They walked through the maze of corridors until she arrived at a grand hall. Each stain glass window depicted a scene of Equestrian history. They shone their vibrant colours on the marble floor. Stone columns lined the edges of the room while a pink carpet with red trim trailed its way from the entrance to the throne itself.
The throne was a thing of awe. It sat on a golden dais with blue tapestries on either side. However, Spirit could not remove her eyes from the being that sat in the all important chair.
Princess Celestia, daughter of the sun and co-ruler of Equestria stared at her with budding interest. Their violet eyes met. Spirit's training kicked in and stopped her from gaping at the beautiful ethereal mane and tail.
"This is a most welcome visit," spoke Celestia in a gentle friendly tone. "To whom do I have the pleasure?" Spirit stared at her golden crown and necklace. All thought left her mind, leaving her to gawp like a newborn foal.
"Well?" said the Goddess of the Sun.
"My name is Spirit Aura, your highness." Spirit felt the trickle of sweat run down her brow. Celestia nodded.
"You have travelled a long way to come here. What purpose do you have in my court?"
Spirit stammered. She did not honestly know why she came here. This was a mistake. She wanted to spread her wings and flee. But that gaze held her in place. Something radiated from this pony. She wanted to tell her everything. Is this magic I feel? Somehow, Spirit knew the answer was no. This was something else entirely. Something told her to trust this leader. Celestia waited patiently for her response.
"I seek asylum in your land." Spirit inhaled sharply to Celestia's rising eyebrow.
Celestia nodded. "Of course all are welcome to Equestria. But what would prompt you to abandon your world?"
Spirit sighed and told her everything. The leader seemed particularly interested in the state of the Angel-Demon war. However, as Spirit got into her involvement in all this, the leader's expression darkened.
"So your guild hunts you for aiding the Angels to defend their borders. I see the problem."
"I saved many lives!" Colour rushed to Spirit's cheeks from her childish outburst.
"No doubt you did. But have you considered the consequences? You have defied an age old institution and destroyed the little bit of harmony that I helped to set in place. If the Demons realise that a Mediator revealed their plans to the Angels, who's to say they won't take their revenge out on the Guild itself?"
"I...I didn't think." Tears rolled down Spirit's cheeks. Celestia stared at the floor.
"As a leader, I have to think about my own subjects. I cannot afford to bring Equestria into the political fold of your world."
Tears fell onto the marble floor. "What can I do?" Spirit stared at her hooves.
Celestia ambled to a stain glass window. A picturesque view of her land stretched out before her, distorted by the colourful panes of glass. "I'm sorry Spirit Aura but what you have done cannot be fixed. However my little pony, there is still hope."
Spirit's mind raced as she deciphered any hidden meaning. To others, she stood there dumbfounded. She caught the genuine sorrow on Celestia's face and she almost broke down then and there. "What can I do?"
Celestia returned to the scene outside the window. A barely noticeable smile spread across her face. "The Equestrian Gate claimed your life when you came here. You have already paid the ultimate price."
Silence filled the hall as the princess rubbed a hoof on her chin. Eventually, she turned to Spirit. "There is one who suffers as you do. Find the source of your grief, let it out and she will find you. Only then can you tread on the path to harmony."
Celestia nodded her head towards the stunned mare. "Fare well Spirit Aura. May we meet again under better circumstances. However, I must attend to other matters."
The leader of white and gold turned and exited through a backdoor, leaving her alone with the royal guards. With a nervous glance to either side, Spirit ran out of the hall with tears glistening down her cheeks.
<><
I have destroyed everything. I destroyed the little bit of peace my world has. And now I flee like a coward. I deserve to die.
Spirit succumbed to dark thoughts as she hid in the shadows of an alleyway. With a grim expression, she watched the sunset. The golden hues of light turned into the familiar glow of orange and reds.
The colour of home...The colour of blood spilt by my hooves.
She found a quiet meadow as an eerie blackness settled over the land. She nestled herself against a fallen log and shivered under her tabard. Tears rolled down her cheeks and hacking sobs filled the night sky.
She dreamt that night. In her dream she saw war across the realm. She saw a demon claw rip Borviir's chest open. She saw the Crossroads fall. And in the midst of horrifying battle between Angels, Mediators and Demons; she saw the dead fall by the hundreds. Their hollow stares turned towards her. They seethed with hatred.
"You did this!" they cried. "We die because of you!"
She tried to scream but the dream took her voice, leaving her with a whimper. And as she ran, the air turned to treacle, making every movement an exercise in futility. But the dead kept watching. And they cried for her blood.
Somewhere in the night, a dark figure awoke from her slumber. The mare shook her head as she recovered from what she saw. Without another moment's notice, she flew into the darkness.
<><
The burning sun woke her at dawn. Its blinding rays penetrated her eyelids and stimulated her retinas. Spirit sat on the soft earth and brushed a hoof across her makeshift bed. The strands of grass gave way to her hoof without as much as a scratch. A butterfly, a strange and alien creature to her, floated pass. It meandered past, unfazed by Spirit's curious gaze. The sun caught on the stray trees that dotted the landscape and each leaf sparkled from the morning dew.
It was beautiful.
She stretched her wings and shook away the condensation. The feeling of dampness was strangely invigorating. She jumped and her extended wings caught the air. With one mighty push, she flew into the sky.
The passing fresh air gave her clarity. Memories of the previous evening returned to her. Her wonder dropped from her face like a stone. Without direction, she followed the sun like a moth entranced by the hypnotic glare of a lamp. She climbed higher.
With a few flaps, she found herself over a pony settlement. No walls or barriers blockaded entry and no ballistae guarded the sky. How does this town protect itself? Does it even need to? All she saw was a haze of colourful ponies about their daily business. She sped along before somepony spied her wings.
She skirted around a forest. The thick foliage and alien noises unsettled her. The swath of green expanded well over the horizon. How can life cover such a large area? Her mind refused to let her fly in deeper. The vastness scared her.
To her right, something rustled in the trees. "It's near!" something shouted, "We smell it."
Something burst from the canopy in a flurry of leaves. "There it is! Betrayer!"
Two demons landed in the open fields next to the woods and gave chase, their gallop easily keeping up with her. With a squeak, Spirit fell into a dive while flapping madly. Air pulled at her skin as she rapidly gained speed. Her wings levelled her out and she ascended while maintaining her staggering velocity. She dared to look back. One of her pursuers stood on its hind legs waving something above its head...
Suddenly, a bright flash of white light erupted to her left. A piercing bang quickly followed, almost bursting her eardrums. A high pitched whine drowned out all other sound. She struggled to see through the spots in her eyes. Her training told her she was falling. Her addled brain caught up just before the bone wrenching impact. She struck the ground at an angle. She rolled on what felt like coarse sandpaper, tearing at her tough violet hide. She willed her body to remain limp as a divot kicked her back into the air, only to land with a thump.
She came to a rest. Her eyes shot open and she hopped onto her hooves while fighting her disorientation. She ignored her cuts, scrapes and the many soon-to-be bruises that covered her entire body as they cried in protest. She summoned her blade. An ethereal sabre fizzled into existence, its grip already in her awaiting jaws. She sidestepped and slashed upwards as a demon dived on her. Her blade caught nothing but spines as the hard exoskeleton easily reflected her blow. She turned and hopped backwards to avoid a slash from its claws. The second demon discarded its grenade sling and charged.
I'm outnumbered! I don't have much time! Spirit pressed her attack in a frantic volley of slashes and stabs. The demon hopped out of reach in a mocking imitation of her. She grunted as a wild slash caught her foreleg, tearing the skin and splattering the pristine green grass with a spray of red.
Spirit threw the sword at the demon. As soon as the blade left her maw, it disappeared in a cloud of dispersed magic. However, it distracted the demon for long enough for her to summon a javelin. With a scream, she threw the arcane weapon. The demon reacted quickly but screeched as the spear sank into its shoulder. The javelin disappeared after a couple of moments, allowing a thick black fluid to leak from the open wound.
Once again with sword, Spirit ducked under the lunge of the second demon and scored a large cut to its belly as it flew over. The two demons chuckled, the growls rolled out their dripping maws. "You thought you could hide here?-" One of them laughed. "-We want to see how much pain a pony can take before it dies."
Spirit said nothing but concentrated on her panting in this reprieve. Breathe in...Breathe out... The second demon circled behind her. Spirit took one last deep breath. Even the smell of her still smouldering fur could not overcome the heady scent of Equestria. I am glad that I saw this land. She clamped down on her blade, its edge shining with a pinky-purple aura.
Her scream echoed deep into the Everfree Forest. "I am Spirit Aura!"
She charged.
Spirit feigned a swipe, turned and bucked at the demon. She felt her hoof smash hard carapace. The demon roared in pain as it withdrew its broken paw. Spirit quickly countered a snapping bite aimed for her neck. A cut across the second demon's muzzle showed she scored a glancing hit.
She gasped as claws sunk into her hind quarters and knocked her to the floor. It pounced on her. She screamed in agony and bucked wildly. She hit the first demon in the chest and it fell back. She wailed as she rolled to her hooves and put weight on her rear leg. The second demon charged her, trying to retake the advantage. Spirit threw her sword but the creature was wise to her ploy. It charged through the sword, the mist swirling around its form. Spirit hissed, showing her fangs.
A white bolt slammed into the demon's back and sank into the ground beneath. It yelped as its momentum ripped the bolt through its vital tissues. It pawed the ground in a futile attempt to collect its lifeblood that flowed into the grass. The other demon looked up to see an Angel floating down from the heavens. The crosshair of a loaded crossbow stared directly at the beast. The beast made a darting run but the bolt struck its skull with enough force to bury both the arrow and its head into the earth.
Spirit let slip a small, wearied smile. "Is that you, Viviscien?" The white feathered being walked up to her, dropping the unloaded crossbow to the ground. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he inspected the rake across her hindquarters.
"It's deep. Muscle and tendon are torn. I can fix this but you'll have to stay out of the wars."
"Viviscien?" whinnied Spirit. She felt her blood stained fur down her leg dry and crust over.
"Yes Mediator?" replied the old bird.
"Why? How?"
"I tried to get to you in time," said Viviscien. "But you went into the gate. I thought all was lost. But I spied a couple of demons crying out for your blood. I followed them here." He lifted her muzzle so her eyes met his. "You may have lost your place among the Mediators. But you've earned a place of honour among the Angels."
"I do not deserve honour!" she shouted. "I've destroyed the pact. I've brought the Mediators into this war! I've brought us all into open conflict!" She tried to shake her head out of his talons but his grip held.
Viviscien stared with all the empathy he could muster. "What you've done is brought the war out of an eternal stalemate. No more do we have to send troops into bottlenecks around your territories and watch as regiments fall faster than a chick at hatching. Because of you, it can end! You have saved us all."
Spirit complained. "The Mediators protected the Borderlands. And we blockaded you from them. There was peace!"
He pulled a small canteen out of a white battle harness and pressed its open end to her mouth. The soothing burn of liquor numbed her taste buds. It was sheer ecstasy. "I thought that would quieten you," he said through a chuckle.
"No matter what they have said to you. No matter what they told you to believe. You have done the right thing. Now, Spirit Aura of Home-Nest, stay still while I patch you up. And for the love of the Light, don't whine!" Viviscien forced another canteen (this one with water) in her hoof then set to work on her injury.
<><
Spirit winced as the needle and thread closed her wound. With an exhausted smile, she sat next to the old bird. The skin around his eyes wrinkled up in amusement; It's hard to smile with a beak.
"Do...do yyyou know what happened to Borviir?" asked Spirit as her head swayed.
"He's fine. Did you know he, and many other ponies, threw off their tabard for a chance to fight for us? We did not realise that animosity for Demons ran so deep in your Guild."
"He's never liked them," said Spirit. "Yet it was me, the pony who reined him in every day, which acted against them. Fate definitely has a sense of humour." Viviscien clacked his beak disturbing the flight path of a fly. "Have you seen him?" she asked innocently.
"Yes. He was about to be court marshalled when I arrived at The Crossroads. He looked defeated, miserable in fact. He kept staring at the doors that led to the Gate. He misses you."
Silence broke out, interrupted by Spirit's rumbling belly. She smiled shyly at Viviscien. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why do you steal my rations every time?" He handed her a small pile of mush wrapped in leaves. She gobbled it down with enthusiasm.
A comforting silence returned. As time passed, the sky darkened, revealing the moon and stars in all its splendour.
"I have to go Spirit Aura," stated Viviscien suddenly.
"Go? What about me?" Spirit could not hide the panic in her voice.
"The politicians charged me with bringing you home, but you used the Equestrian Gate." he said regretfully. "Everyone knew
this was a fool's errand. But when I saw those demons use another gate...I had to follow.
"I feel the pull of the gate already. I have to go back through. And I have to destroy it, to protect this land from our war."
"Please don't leave me!" Spirit cried. "I'm not welcome in this world." I'm scared.
"I'm sorry, but I must."
Fresh tears dripped down Spirit's cheeks. Viviscien had to look away. "Don't leave me alone!" The old bird took a step away from her. "No!" She screamed and tugged on his feathered arm. She even bit his wing. With the patience of a saint, he slowly freed his wing from her grip. "I will tell him you live. He will come. Goodbye, Spirit Aura, Saint among Angels."
Spirit fell to her knees, wincing as she stretched the stitches. She saw the white form float and disappear into the encroaching darkness. She sobbed into the night sky as emotions of abandonment and confusion overwhelmed her. A small part of her repeated the old birds words, "I will tell him you live. He will come." A warm feeling spread through her body as a seed of hope pushed back some of her depression. She clung to that feeling with her life.
"Borviir, come back to me..." she whispered into the air.
<><
Borviir rubbed his eyes with an ornately adorned hoof. Before him, a slow procession of Angels carried a pony sized casket through the dirt path to Moon Haven. It headed towards the cemetery. He remembered watching the guard pony wrestle a limp Spirit out from the green haze of the gate. He cried out for her but a sudden stomp from his captor knocked him out.
Now, he attended her funeral. He was one of a few Mediators present. The rest saw her as a traitor. They could not possibly understand what she has sacrificed for them. Four Angels supported the casket, each stepping in perfect time with each other. He let a tear fall into the tall black grass. I never told her how I felt...After all these years, she still saw me as a guard.
Did she notice? Did she feel the same way? He sighed. It's too late now anyway.
The procession slowly disappeared from his view. He contemplated following but each step ignited a pain deep inside his chest. No! I cannot see them...bury her. Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! He ripped off his now useless tabard with a furious growl and stomped the item of clothing into the dusty land. He turned towards the town proper. Now that the Angels bribed him out of court marshal, he had a free evening. A drink at that cesspool of an inn, that's what she would do.
Two drinks in, Borviir found that alcohol only amplified the pain. He slammed his hoof on the table in frustration as tears overwhelmed him. Nopony came to comfort him. He felt alone.
Another drink in, Borviir heard the screech of a moving chair on floorboard. Opposite him sat an exhausted looking Angel. The bird took a swig of its pint and stared at the bedraggled pony.
"What do you want?" grumbled Borviir.
"I'm a close friend of Spirit. I want to help," replied the bird.
"Don't say her name!" spat Borviir. "You know nothing about her!"
"I know never to offer her a drink," the bird replied casually. The pony snorted with a blend of anger and grief.
"Borviir listen to me. Spirit is alive."
Borviir slammed onto his hooves, sending his chair flying backwards. "Don't say her name!" His shout turned into a horrifying tortured whine. Time passed slowly as Viviscien's words sank in. "Don't lie to me." His voice carried an aura of fury barely contained by sense. His mind fought against the growing insanity brought on by grief.
"She left her body and passed through the gate. Borviir. She is in Equestria, alive and healthy."
"No she isn't." Borviir downed the rest of his pint and stared at the table.
"Borviir! Go to her. Walk through the gate like she did. Join her."
"No! I saw her! She's dead!" Borviir howled into his empty mug. He fled the inn and the Angel without warning, slamming the door as he left.
<><
Spirit lay where Viviscien left her. Her breath was shallow and she remained still. No amount of cold breeze could shift her. She felt lost, alone and terrified. Her physical pain had dulled considerably but it was nothing compared to the mental anguish. Maybe, If I lay here, the pain will end. She did not hear the soft thump next to her.
"Pray tell, what is this before us?" The volume of the voice startled Spirit. She shot to her hooves and summoned her blade, ready to slay any demon.
Spirit stared at the startled pony and quickly dropped her blade. The dark blue mare sported a crescent moon cutie mark on top of what looked like a black bubble. Her long blue mane resembled that of Princess Celestia's.
"Thou art wise to drop one's blade," muttered the pony as she stared with disdain at Spirit. "Maybe we made an error."
"Who are you?" asked Spirit.
"We are Princess Luna, daughter of the night." Her voice was still uncomfortably loud. "Thou wings, we have not seen in a long while. I greet thee Spirit Aura, bat pony from the Otherworld."
"How do you know my name?"
"We have seen your dreams and we know what happened to you." She sat next to Spirit and, with a hoof, invited her to do the same. "It is sad what happened. You did a brave thing. To cast personal feelings aside to defend the greater good is a noble act, one that deserves reward instead of exile."
"But I've paved the way to full blown war..."
"And that war can now end, little bat pony."
"But..." Luna silenced the mare.
"War can only lead to peace."
Luna sighed. Spirit noticed the mare no longer carried an air of authority. She no longer held her chin up and her eyes were downcast as if remembering something painful. "We had the same dream once." she said, "It burdened us throughout our exile. We knoweth the crushing pain of failure. We...I failed Equestria."
They stared into the starry night sky. For the first time, Spirit noticed the beauty weaved into that strange black fabric. Stars, each a brilliant ball of white light, formed constellations that filled her with wonderment.
Luna smiled as her volume and regal air returned. "It is not often we notice a pony admiring our work."
"It's beautiful," said Spirit.
Luna brought Spirits attention back to her. "Thou art lost, yes? Thou hast nowhere to go? Nothing to do?" Spirit nodded.
"Then thou shalt be under my employ. Thou can be my personal guard."
Spirit smiled. "I would like that."
Luna suddenly stiffened. She closed her eyes and a faint glow emanated from her horn. After a moment, she opened her azure eyes. "He's here," she stated.
Spirit's heart skipped a beat. "B-Borviir?"
"Another bat pony...One that dreams of you." Spirit's smile widened. A small giggle left her throat. It rapidly turned into a full blown guffaw of relief. A weight lifted from her shoulders and her spirit reignited.
"Borviir! Let's find him!"
"After you Spirit Aura."
Author's Note
Thank you to Hawk9mm on Deviantart for the picture of Canterlot in the cover photo.
Big thanks to Blue_Pancake and McBrace for helping me with the SFM and the editing parts of the picture. Also, for the proof reads and for staying up late while I frantically rushed to get this finished on time.
And thank you for reading.
