Author's Note

Every millennium on the brightest blood moon in the year of the platypus, another chapter with rise from the darkest depths.

Respite

I lay there on the floor, every atom of my body feeling uncomfortably foreign to my senses, as I stare up into the soft eyes of a regal alabaster alicorn. My lungs began to burn yet again, realizing myself not to be breathing I attempted to inhale. I promptly choked and proceeded to hack and cough violently.

I turned to the side as to not spit in the face of this new found watcher. I coughed and hacked as the pain in my chest became intolerable. Each cough casting more of the abyssal fluid onto the floor, I soon felt my stomach convulsing and again I vomited onto the admittedly ornate marble on which I was situated. However my location, my observer, or the nice marble floor I was painting with the black fluid was not in the forefront of my mind. All I cared about was relieving the fire burning in my lungs.

I coughed and hacked a few more times as I felt a viable airway being formed. Taking gasping, desperate and gurgling breaths, I slowly returned to my previous position on the now more noticeably hard floor, It was quite uncomfortable. Laying once again on my back, much more at ease now that air was flowing freely into my lungs, I sighed in relief as all seemed right again.

I turned my gaze back to my observer, who now was wearing a bemused expression.

"Feel better?" The alicorn asked, her voice able to contain but not obscure the mirth hiding in her grin.

My cheeks became hot as I realized that I did not even know who my observer was and yet I had taken the liberty of vomiting all over their nice marble. Spike had told me that alicorns were a big deal and in fact the diarchy consists of two alicorn sisters. Now noticing the glint of the golden crown atop my observer's head I began putting all the pieces of the puzzle together. Having every orifice of your body invaded and rendered unconscious has a way of slowing your mental faculties.

I coughed and attempted to clear my throat. An attempt to speak came as another cacophony of gurgles. Becoming irritated at this time I used all of the energy I could muster to summon a great wind from the depths of my defiled lungs and forced it out my trachea in a mighty gust. My throat now clear of most obstructions I swallowed before attempting to speak again.

"Sorry about your floor." My voice was weak and not much more than a whisper. "You're one of the alicorn sisters, correct?"

"Indeed, I am Princess Celestia, and welcome to my castle." She spoke in practised precision, every tone pleasant and inoffensive. " You needn't worry about the floor, a mess is always to be expected when Luna uses that spell. I am just glad that you are okay."

Slowly a familiar feeling washed over my body, in a careful and awesome wave of a peculiar contrast of sensory. Ah yes I could feel. Much more clearly now, I could feel the texture of the marble as my body pressed against its unyielding mass. I could feel the softness of the warm, blanket-like, air that seemed to fill the great hall I occupied. I could even feel the subtle air rushing from the subdued breaths of my royal watcher.

I found myself hit by an unexpected wave of relief at the realization of the return of my full sensory faculties. I suppose until now I had never really realized how much I valued my acute senses and observation. Not to boast, of course, but I had always prided myself on such things.

Almost in a blissful state at the realisation of my safety and the gradual return of my senses leaving me in a somewhat euphoric state, I looked to my extremities. More specifically my right hand. My hand seemed to gleam in the light of the grand hall. My normally pale skin had seemed a good few shades more white, understandable all things withstanding. I stared at my hand with a familiarity one would share with a close family member, or an old friend.

My pale extremity laying there like that of a dead man, I reflected on just how many times I almost died in the past two days alone. "Quite a few" I remarked silently, and from this came an almost manic pride. I had avoided many a grizzly death, and that in my books, was a victory.

A smile spread across my face, and I willed my right hand to move. At first it remained as dead as it looked. Then the digits twitched, and curled as my will dictated, the joints grinding under the weight of my mind. My body had grown unused to being driven, and seemed almost contemptuous of my command. No matter, my body will get over it. I'm not dead yet.

It was late. Or I assumed it was. It had to be late. I had been laying there in wide eyed restlessness staring at the wall across from my medical bed for what had seemed like a millennia. My back was turned to the slightly open door. The only window in the room was at such an angle that did not allow me to peer out. I could only Imagine what view it would offer, as the nurse had insisted I get rest immediately. She was a rather insistent caretaker, though lacking in some of the pleasantries one would expect, she did seem rather frazzled and no doubt over worked from tending to the wounded from the attempted liberation of Ponyville, so I understood her shortage of patience.

The curtain to the bed behind me was drawn and I could only assume was occupied by a soldier far more deserving of it than I. My brain buzzed with a restless energy that barely allowed me to close my eyes at times. Probably the most non-constructive energy imaginable, the kind which was devoted to no thoughts, or contemplations. My mind was essentially blank, crying for stimulation. My body groaned and writhed, begging for the much needed rest to recuperate from its abuse.

I bowed to my mind's command. After all, I had always subscribed to the idea of mind over matter. My body could wait a while longer.

I slowly arose from my resting. My teeth pressed on one another as I fought back against the urge to cry out at the pain of my movements. I strained to put the pain out of my mind and focused on getting to the curtained window as I took staggering strides towards it.

I pulled back the window curtains, hoping to be greeted by an uplifting scenic view of the mountainside estate known as Canterlot.

My eyes were greeted with the dead silence of night. Not a single movement could be seen in the cobbled streets below. A cautious silence lay heavy in the air, as though even the night in the city did not belong to its inhabitants. Upon the horizon, great bellowing trails of smoke and gases spiraled into the clouded and dark sky. Fires and infernos were the only stars to be found as distant townships were found to be not but fuel for the ire of the undead onslaught.

My pain faded into obscurity as I soaked in the severity of the scenery I was beheld to. It did not exactly paint the picture of a war we were winning. A grim wave washed over me as I too shared in the sore passivity of the city.

We were living on borrowed time.

I turned away and tried to push that well out of my mind. Inevitability has a way of clouding one's judgement. Nothing is inevitable. Nothing is certain.

I saw outside the door to my room, a sign on the wall of the opposite side of the hallway. Pointing to the right it signified "Lounge and General Commons." "That looks promising", I thought. I made my way to the door, making light on my feet as to not rouse my shared residence from his or her slumber.

"Thought the nurse told you to rest." A husky voice prompted me to nearly leap out of my skin. I turned to my right to see a familiar face behind the curtain after it was drawn back with a strong hoof.

The sergeant major from Ponyville lay sprawled out in the hospital bed parallel to mine, his left hind leg suspended by a pulley and casted in thick wrapping. His face was hard and half obscured by the bloody wrapping around the left side of his head.

I was left speechless as I tried to draw words to justify my actions or even just express my exasperation at seeing him alive. His face softened and he gave a light chuckle as the edges of his lips curled upward into a rather pathetic, but genuine smile.

"I'm just yankin' your chain kid." The sergeant said. His eyes narrowed for a moment, "I remember you from the library. Hope this whole situation doesn't sour you're view of this place, its really quite nice most of the time, If you can deal with the obvious social matriarchy that is." the sergeant chuckled, which descended into a rather harsh fit of coughing.

I cringed a bit as his coughs became more brutal before tapering off. My curiosity overcoming me once again I ventured "How exactly did you survive? I mean I saw you, you were on top of the wall when the first Minotaur hit."

"I'm tougher than I look." The grizzled stallion raised an eyebrow at me as a smirk crept across his face. "Well that's no small statement" I thought to myself. I allowed a laugh and the large stallion joined me. "Go on now" The Sergeant motioned, "I'll cover for ya if the nurse comes back, I'll say you had to piss or something."

"Thanks" I said as I slipped out the door and headed to the Lounge.

Not far down the castle corridor I found the door to which I had been seeking. A simple wooden door lay before me, labeled "Lounge and General Commons."

I grasped the brass door handle and pushed. With little resistance, the door swung open, giving way to reveal a greater room than others I had seen. The ceiling towered some 20 meters doming at the top with a large chandelier hanging from its apex. Luxurious furnishings and lounge chairs lay about in scattered locations, divided only by large book cases containing all manner of books, and trinkets. The upper level was visible from the level I was situated and had ornate carved banisters weaving across the railing securing the upper level, allowing one to peer down onto the main commons from above. "Some Lounge," I thought. It was practically a library, I couldn't imagine what the actual castle library would look like.

My attention was drawn to movement across the Lounge floor. Spark Plug strode out from behind one of the book cases, a book enveloped in his golden field of influence, levitating along beside him as he approached a sitting cushion. He turned to me, a smile spread across his face, and spoke.

"Hey," He seemed genuinely happy to see me, if not a little tired. "What brings you around here at this hour?"

"Just wandering, couldn't sleep," I replied. "Though I could ask the same of you," I added, a smile heavy in my face.

"You caught me," Spark threw his head about in mock exasperation. "I've been secretly planning to defect to the enemy side, thought maybe Wilhelm would give me a deal on my decapitation, maybe even let me keep my genitals!

I winced as I chuckled with Spark.

"What is with that Wilhelm guy?" I queried, the last remnants of my smile still lingering, but slowly being overtaken by a thoughtful skew. "I mean, I don't see too many other humans around here."

"Yes," Spark replied, sharing my puzzled mug. "I did notice you two shared a few physiological qualities, and no, he is in fact the only other human in recorded equestrian history."

"That's a grand statement," I said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, well Twilight and I spent quite a bit of time looking into the annals of history searching for something on our old buddy Wilhelm, since the princess seemed to know him so well." Spark elaborated as I walked over to take a seat on a cushion across from him. "While searching we found an event roughly two thousand years ago described only as the Sepulchral March. That sounded promising so we found other source materials under that name in the royal library.

"Really," I said, an eyebrow raised. "Annals of history, Royal Library, aren't you two connected."

Spark shrugged at this. "I've been around, and Twilight's the protege to the princess in addition to her brother being captain of the guard, not a whole lotta red tape left between the two of us."

"Okay, sorry, go on." I said, waving a hand, as I settled a bit more into the simple cushion obviously not made to accommodate someone of my anatomy.

"Right, well," Spark re focused. "We found mention of a similar situation we find ourselves in now. However, unfortunately even with our sources being from the royal library itself much of the specifics of the event were either redacted or expunged so all we really gathered is that there was a large threat to the state long ago and it was headed by someone known as Liluth the Terrible, and was aided by some creature called Wilhelm, who was described as a large, bipedal, sapient creature with foreign armaments, sound familiar?"

"Okay," I said rather confused. "Then who is this Liluth character?"

"We have no idea," Spark said flatly. "Twi said she'd ask the princesses when she gets the chance."

"Cool," I said passively. I began to twiddle my fingers, looking about the gorgeous room, thinking of a next topic of conversation. Spark by all means seemed like a pretty cool guy, though he seemed a trifle more intelligent then I would have expected from a traveling blow torch. "So where are you from? If you don't mind me asking." I ventured, genuinely curious. "Were you born here in Canterlot?"

Spark looked up from the book he was reading. "Oh no, I was none so fortunate. I was born in a town to the far north. It was a heavily industrialized town run by an earth pony aristocracy who were quite opinionated." I looked at him quizzically. "By opinionated I mean blatantly racist against unicorns. They felt that they had been oppressed and marginalized by the unicorn dominated society, so they were essentially working to make the unicorns the working class instead of the earth ponies. "

"Brutal, how long did that go on for?" I asked, a little astonished, considering how progressive this place seemed.

"Quite a while," Spark remarked. "I spent my childhood working in a factory as a welder, where I got these actually." Spark batted the goggles hanging about his neck. Something was off. Spark was speaking of this in a calm demeanor, maybe even a little softly. Which was strange, because so far it's usually been either gaiety , sarcasm, or obvious disdain. I wonder... Though I suppose it is none of my business. After all, nothing terribly romantic ever happened in a factory.

"I'm assuming the working conditions weren't great either eh?" I ventured, my face sympathetically skewed.

"Yeah, you could say that." Spark remarked. I decided to drop that line of thought. "What about you?" Spark struck me from my reverie. "You got a family back home?" Spark asked, setting his book on a nearby table with his influence. "Gotta be missing them eh?"

"Eh," I shrugged. "My parents had always prepared me for the world the best they could, they always pushed me to go out of my comfort zone and stuff like that. They got me to take survival courses, recreational sports, even encouraged me to play instruments; they say it helps with memory and is preventative of Alzheimer's, which is in my genes unfortunately." I skewed my face again, before snapping back to attention. "Anyways, plus I was already living in my aunts basement because she lives close to the University I attend... attended, so I had pretty much already said goodbye." My face distances again. "Probably pretty worried about me though."

I look back to Spark who is looking at me with a pitying bemused expression. "Yeah, doesn't seem like you miss them at all there tough guy." I roll my eyes.

"What about you're family?" I asked. "You got someone waiting for you when you get back from your grand adventures." I said waving my hands in mock drama.

"Naw, my parents didn't come home one night when my sister and I were little, and we still have no idea what happened to them, though it was probably a factory accident, and seeing as the factory is in no way accountable, they probably didn't tell anyone. Ponies disappeared all the time in that town." Spark remarked, his voice resounding with traces of lament. "My sister and I aren't on the best of terms either; different values I guess you could say."

"I see," I said. "Sorry, It's really none of my business."

"No, you're good, Dan." Spark said, smiling a bit now. "We're friends right? We all got our problems, but weight seems lesser when shared. I appreciate you actually taking an interest in the first place. Most people just assume I'm a traveling hick that sets shit on fire. I mean, the praise I do get is nice, but it's never genuine, or for me, It's for what I did." Spark continued a little bitterly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's often the price of success." I remarked sympathetically.

"I'll tell ya what though," Spark started. "Since you took the time to listen to my crap, if you ever need to bitch or vent, I got you're back. Just don't expect me to take you seriously one-hundred percent of the time, because I find more often than not, when someone's bitching, what they actually need is a kick in the ass." Spark chuckled.

"Thanks," I laughed.

We talked a bit more, about places he had seen and people he had met, including a very colorful story about a griffon bar maid he had a run in with far west; Kinda wish he had excluded some of the details. Having just finished telling me a joke he looked to the doorway as I chortled to myself.

"I think that's for you," Spark said looking past me. I twisted to look behind me, seeing a very cross looking nurse standing in the door way.

She lead me through the hallways at a brisk pace back to my residence, me following sheepishly behind.

"My job is hard enough without you sneaking off at night to Celestia knows where," The nurse ranted. "You know how many royal pains would jump up my ass if you wandered off and keeled over under my watch, I'd be out of the job faster than you could say pink slip; or worse, imprisonment." She looked back to me. "Do you really think I need that kind of garbage on my plate?"

"No ma'am," I said. "Sorry." The white coated mare, turned the corner into my room, her blonde mane tied in a tight bun beneath her small white cap.

I entered the room as the nurse changed my sheets and prepped my bed again, a nice gesture despite it all. I looked to Kathol.

"Sorry kid," the sergeant said apologetically. "She threatened to fill my I.V. with water instead of morphine if I didn't tell her where you were."

I smiled at him and waved a hand dismissively. "And I would have too," the nurse said as she finished assorting my resting. "Damn fart always makin trouble."

A high mischievous laugh came from my left. "We both know you're sweet on me Bessie," the sergeant quipped. "So what're ya thinking, Zapapplebees for our first date? Or you can take this cast off and we can get right to it if you're hurting for bits, I am a gentleman after all."

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Get stuffed, good sergeant," the nurse said sweetly. As the nurse was exiting a sudden pressure in my lower gut became very apparent.

"Wait," I said after the nurse. She turned around to face me. "I gotta take a piss." Her face deadpanned. "Actually this time!" I said urgently.

The nurse sighed. "Left down the hall, first door on the left." Her face hardened, pursing her lips and widening her eyes. "Celestia help me if I see you anywhere but here next..."

"I got it" I said raising my hands defensively before slipping through the door past her toward the bathroom.

The bathroom was confusing, and I am fairly certain I didn't use it correctly, but I suppose that is for the custodian to worry about. I looked myself in the mirror. My hard features, cast shadows on my pale face. The nurse was nice enough to shave my face for me at my request when I was first recovering, and she had done a nice job indeed. The bruising bags under my eyes gave me a deathly appearance. I had always had a unwelcoming appearance, which often leads people to be caught off guard by my overtly jovial manner of speaking and interaction in a mundane setting. I try my best to be pleasant, whether It's in spite of my heavy presence or not I'm not sure, but this whole endeavor has definitely been testing that. Though these horses probably think I look strange regardless of how I stand on human standards of appearance. I seem quite a bit thinner than usual in my tattered white T-shirt. Definitely some muscle waste at my lack of protein. The wound across the top of my otherwise smooth head is still healing rather slowly, I need more zinc intake.

I finish washing my face and I head out the door back to my room.

Upon returning to the room, Kathol was already out like a light with his I.V. going. Wonder what he said to the nurse.

I nestled into my soft resting and nodded off into oblivion.

I walked along a distorted and familiar path, detail obscured to my recognition, and the absence of such not understood by myself. As I walked still, familiar shapes manifested in impossible spaces of which I find natural. Faces, forlorn and eyed of void. Their black eyes follow me down my path. Houses, mundane and horrifying, to invoke such terror at the shadows of former forms. The one Derpy with her loved little one. They stared and utter, "Would you save us?"

I continue. The lost soldiers, as if frozen in the wake of myself, stare too, uttering the very same, "would you save us?"

Families, loners, soldiers, painters, rulers, freaks , outcasts, oppressors, all look on, and utter their pleas at their struggle, their life, their utterly unique experience and understanding, again they utter, "would you save us?"

The path ends with a door. The door opens to reveal my family, my mother and father sitting in my living room, my brother sitting in the recliner across from them. They look to me and smile.

My eyes open to see the wall across from my medical bed. I'm not going to try to understand what I just saw right now. It is early, too early to awaken, but too late to return to my slumber, so I wait.

Wait for my call.