Heart Of Light And Sorrow

The squire galloped through the halls, hurriedly passing by others of far nobler positions than he. They turned their muzzles up at him, but he could care less - he knew his duty was far nobler than them who treated him as such. He kept running until he reached the throne room. Quickly as he could, he pushed open the doors, knowing full well the clear instructions not to bother the king. This was a matter of too great importance to follow protocol. The oaken doors creaked open, and the squire hurried in.

Guards stood along the sides of the room, their visors down and bodies motionless. The room was large, filled with a vast nothingness, a great expanse of sheer oblivion. The only thing filling the throne room was the power of he who sat on the throne - indeed, perhaps the most powerful man alive.

"What," wheezed the olden king, "art thou... doing here?..." Lightly, the frail stallion coughed, his crown slipping down the side of his head.

"S-sir, an army waits at the front gates! They demand to talk to thee, or they will bring battle into the castle walls!"

The king sat up taller, his eyes drooping lower. "Has... Has the time come... so soon... the crown of the ice king... to fall..."

The squire shook his head, confused. What was the king rambling about? "Your Majesty, please, the army is going to ride in less than an hour! We must prepare the defenses! What is thy command?"

Silence seemed to fall in the throne room. Slowly, however, the king lifted his pale blue hoof, letting the turquoise light from the stained glass windows wrap around his hoof. "S-sir," the squire said hesitantly, confused.

The king coughed again, a racking cough that shuddered throughout his entire body. He rested his back against the throne, closing his eyes. "The time for battle has come," he said, his voice clearer than it had been in countless years. "Send out the Invincibles..."

The squires eyes widened, trembling in fear. "S-sir, the Invincibles hath remained chained since -"

"Silence!" The king stood quickly, the room practically shaking alongside the powerful weakness of his voice. What should have silenced others with fear now evoked such emotion as sympathy to meet its ends. "Do as I... command..." Slowly, calculating, he sat again, his bones sighing as they rested. He shut his eyes.

"Y-yes, my king..."

The king sighed as he heard the tired trotting of the squire lead away from his throne. "So the time has come... for the king of ice to fall..." He felt gentle tears rolling down his face, chilling his skin. From fear, sorrow or relief, he could not tell. "It seems so soon..."

He opened his eyes, and before him rested not the throne room, but an ice laden land, filled with cold and tired ponies. He saw them always, for it was his curse. His curse as the stallion who had failed them. He heard the strum of a bards lute, mournful and minor. He heard the song he had heard of legends past, and the tale that would follow him to his death. His tale. His legend. His curse.

In the lands of frost and snow

Lands of changelings, windeogos,

A story told is told once more

Protectors of earth, going to war...

His eyes strayed to the stained glass adorning the walls around him. None could make sense of them - he struggled himself sometimes. Yet they told a story that grew clearer the more he forgot - a story older than time.

Once a great flame burned,

so brilliant it’s blazing,

gave birth to the lands that we know

That flame is still burning,

and if it should waver

the land turn to ice and to snow

He turned to the next, two ponies, hoof in hoof in a blazing land that was still warming itself. He began to remember more of the song, and more of the past.

Born to the planet,

a pair of protectors

Their destinies both intertwined

One born of fire

and one born of light

Their friendship to the other would bind

"Lulay, Protectors," he sang along softly, his voice shaking.

Oh please do not sigh

Thy duty weighs heavy on thee

Immortal in spirit,

we bow to thy power

Lulay, Protectors, Lu-Lee

The Fire Protector

contained the life flame,

Kept the embers alive

The brilliant protector

would wield a great light

And slay what shadows survived.

But ages did pass,

and son the of the light

Grew greedy, corrupt and blind

He formed a great kingdom,

Forged in his great power

Then, one day, the flaming did die…

His sorrow was muted

as shadows did grow

filling his soul with their curse…

Until of his friend,

he could not recall

nor his duty as light of the earth…

Lulay, O’ Light king

Thy follies will haunt thee

Until the end of thy days

May flame be reborn

And may he smite thee

Lulay, O’ Ice King, we pray

His gaze turned again to the stained glass, now to the right. The glass was cracked with frost, right through the heart of both ponies immortalized in its picture.

Look out on his kingdom,

now laden with ice

One day, his shadow he'll see...

Wielding a great and mighty sword

The knight will set the lands free...

The king blinked, the throne room empty as it always was. The guards were motionless as always. He was solitary in his throne room, for the guards made not a sound. He stood, perhaps a tad slower than he normally did, and crept to the window - not in the sense of a predator stalking it's prey, but of the hunted, peeking out of its hiding place.

There, almost as though on cue, standing on the frozen grass outside, he met the kings eyes. That blue pegasus, his eyes as icy as the land, saw the king in all his weakness, power, greed and glory.

And the king was scared.

The images of his tired lands had faded, but the story did not. The stained glass had become his home, the only thing to help his sanity. When he left this room, his mind would wander, and in his sanity's absence, he would rule the kingdom without sanity as well. If he ruled from his throne room, however, he would keep his ponies safe. He would save them by absenting himself...

"The time has come for me to fall," he whispered, sitting on his throne once more. "And finally... I welcome the grip of death."