Bellum Vitae

It was dark in the Grand Hall though a faint red light filters through the tall crystal windows spaced between thin pillars. Sitting in a high-backed throne at the head of the hall sits a thin framed figure, clad in lightly scarred armor who looks out over the empty tables that are her sole companions. It is a her, it has been for centuries and will be for many, many more. A slight movement, the glinting of light across the surface of dark wine in her crystalline goblet as she slowly lifts it to her lips. No sound comes from her elegant movement, nothing disturbs the silence that has come to be her fondest of immortal and unchanging companions over the centuries.

She is Her Arcane Eminence, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Holy Commander of the Companions, brothers and sisters in the Bellum Vitae. The War of Life. In this war, she has three sisters, sisters who lead their own mighty factions. Her Radiant Eminence, Princess Celestia, Holy Commander of the Helios Legions, those who bring forth Her light. Her Astral Eminence, Princess Luna, Holy Commander of the Dark Knight, those whose duty it is to bring a swift and merciless death their enemies. Lastly is Her Impassioned Eminence, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, Holy Commander of the Revelers, those souls who burn hot enough to consume both their selves and their enemies in the flames of boundless passion present in their every moment.

The War of Life has been raging for centuries, its beginning stems from the withering of all magical life on our home world. Our enemy? The most seductive and deadly of all... Harmony itself. Many years after the ascension of Her Arcane Eminence, Princess Twilight Sparkle, Harmony stole over the world like a soft blanket placed over a foal. Warm... safe... comforting... complacent to let it happen without a single whimper of protest. We never had to venture out from under it, never had to know the cold that makes the warmth so comforting in the first place. Before we knew it, the blanket lost its importance and significance as our bodies began to waste away without knowing why. The once mighty Alicorns find nothing that can prolong the lives of their charges aside from all their magic not needed for their most basic of duties. Even doing this, they can do nothing more than give their citizens life until what used to be the prime of their lives.

However, salvation would come from the hands of one of the most reviled warlords in Equestrian history: Sombra, Fallen King of the North. Sombra, the last healthy magical entity in Equestria. The four sisters were loosing strength slowly, their guards pitiful shadows of their former glory, so he easily forces them to hear his proposal. It is met with scorn, derision, hate and loathing. He is trapped by their combined might at great cost, though only for while. During his incarceration, another year passes. This year, no foals are born to the whole of Equestria. The Princesses decide to convene, placing some credence to the proposal Sombra puts before them. His words are given consideration, only because he has the only solution to the slow death of their world as they have tried everything else to stop it.

His solution? War. Strife. Life through meaningful death. It was no surprise to him that the griffons and dragons were the last to begin feeling the effects of this plague of peace. The magic of Equestria was leaving because it was no longer being attracted to it. Their arts had come to the pinnacle of perfection, thus creativity began to stagnate. Strife was eliminated, so solutions were no longer sought out. Most illnesses conquered, so there is no more adaptation. Weather and world controlled through will and action, no uncertainty in their lives.

War, long forgotten and the words unfamiliar, frightening. Magic is a creative force, drawn to creativity. Where there is none, it ceases to exist. Sombra was a visionary as he was gifted with the intelligence to deduct the inevitable end of the world if Harmony was to encompass it. So thousands of years ago, he tried to set in motion the plans for its salvation. Thousands of years ago, he became consumed with his desire to see his vision complete, though his methods and actions caused his imprisonment. He knew Celestia would never accept his realization and cure, so he had to force it like medicine down a dogs throat only to have it bite his hand off before it could swallow the pill.

So it was in the final hours of a wretched and woeful demise, that which was once reviled became the salvation of an entire world. The first to understand the implications was Princess Twilight who could grasp the far reaching implications. Enlistment, tactics, training... everything that might bring about a spark of creativity. Her sisters slowly, if reluctantly understood that it was the only way. But who was to be their enemies? Surely nothing within their own borders nor the relative superpowers the other two races had become? It is here that Princess Twilight saw yet another solution as well. What of the other worlds? The worlds that hold great darkness. By fighting the beings that extinguish the light, they would rekindle the life of their world. By the meaningful deaths of some, their beloved tribes would live. It was the only way they could agree upon.

Within the month, griffon troops came to Equestria to train their Guard. Within a year, the Guard became militarized and a tiny trickle of life began to pump through the planet once again. A handful of foals were born. The Princesses took Sombra on as an adviser in these matters once they felt that first feeble pulse that all was not lost. His first, and most appreciated actions create the beginnings of the four holy armies that would carve bastions of light and life through the worlds of darkness. The arduous history of Equestria relearning war through trial and error is a long one, so maybe another time.

The life of Sombra is cut short once his usefulness is through as he is a poisonous influence, seeking to take the work of decades for himself through deceit and paranoia. Celestia learns of his plots and does what Harmony would not allow her to do during their first encounter. She ends him. Utterly. She incinerates his soul with her fiery magic, settling debts long since unpaid from his subjugation and torment of innocents centuries ago. This is the opening act for a new age. Now, in the 1283rd year B.V., the reach of the factions account for eight hundred and forty three Bastions across twelve worlds that are blanketed in darkness.

It is in one of these Bastions that Princess Twilight sits in. A blood red moon rising of its own accord behind her throne, tainted by the pyres that deal with the remains of the vile creatures that inhabit this world. She is terrible to behold in her grim contemplation, though tragic at the same time. The watcher breathes a silent breath before strengthening his resolve to speak to her. He walks into the hall on silent feet, the comforting weight of his armor missing as it rests oiled and polished in his quarters. His Commanders eyes flicker up from the reflection of her wine as he steps partially into the light, shining slightly with an amethyst light.

“Yes?” She says in a soft, satiny voice, traces of deadly steel hidden under layers for the sake of one of her beloved Companions. “Is there something I can help you with Dervish?”

“I just thought you may wish to talk.” He replies just as softly, not wishing to completely dispel the quiet of the vast hall. “We all know how you mourn for our fallen Brothers and Sisters each day. I thought that you may simply wish to reminisce of their lives with a willing audience.”

A small smile turns up the corners of her mouth, a sight to make statues weep. “I thank you for your offer. Come, sit at a table while I fetch us something a little stronger to toast to their lives with.”

Dervish smiles warmly and bows to her while she stands to her feet with the ghost of a sound. She walks off to the side and through a door while he sits at the end of the table closest to the kitchens. She comes back a few moments later without her armor, her lithe body covered in the simple browns every companion wears under their armor. In her hands are a couple wooden cups and a earthenware jug. Setting them on the table, she takes her place and slides a cup across to him. Gripping the cloth and wax seal, she rips it off to pour the first glass for each of them.

She smiles the warm smile of a true Companion and raises her cup, Dervish mirroring both actions. “To the lives of those lost. May their smiles and laughter never be forgotten as long as I draw breath.” They say the Toast of Fallen Companions as one. With a swift action, before the last syllable leaves the air, they drink the contents of their cups. White fire courses down Dervishes throat, a lingering heat spreading from his throat down through his stomach and out. Smiling, Dervish sits there listening and talking with his Princess of Companions they both knew and of Companions long dead that he never knew. They even talk about those few individuals who have become legends within not only the Companions but the other factions as well, all of which she knew personally and she tells him unbelievable, even embarrassing stories about them. They talk and remember until the bottle runs dry, the night almost burnt through before the end.

“Thank you, Dervish.” The Princess says softly. “It is well for me to remember the good so that their lives remain vibrant within me. Our Obelisks may record their names, but it is only my sisters and I that know they truly lived.”

“You may be our Holy Commander, Princess, but you are still a Companion who can rely upon her Brothers and Sisters.” He replies.

She stands and walks around the table before leaning down to kiss the crown of his head. “Call me Twilight when we're not in the field. Thank you for your company tonight, but you should get some rest before first light. I'm sure your marefriend is cold in your bed without you anyways.” She says with a smile before walking down the hall at a leisurely pace. Once the Princess leaves the hall, Dervish gets up with only a slight wobble to his gait as he heads back to his warm bed and the welcoming arms of his lover, hoping to sleep an hour or two at least in comfort.

Author's Note

Just something a little dark I couldn't keep in my head forever :b I will write for this story sporadically... when I have free time...