Lost Soulsby Commissar RarityChapters-Prologue--Crystal Sanctuary--Shadows of Canterlot--The Butcher--Prologue-It was the rot that she noticed first – the sickening stench of death and decay rising above the sting of a salty breeze. It surrounded her as she stepped off the gangway. Behind her, the small cutter rose and fell with the rhythm of the waves. Farther off in the distance was the ship she had come in on, preparing to weigh anchor. The path down from the pier was overgrown with weeds, breaking the cobblestone that once lined it. The arch that led to the port city of Ponymouth was crumbling and mossy. The stench was heavier from the city. One greyish ear twitched, sending a few strands of blond mane fluttering. She could hear something coming from within the city. It sounded like grunting, or moaning. It was too faint to make out. Cloudkicker took a few steps forward, bracing for anything. One wing brushed the hilt of the gladius that hung from her saddlebag strap. She’d bought the gladius in the land of Gryph after encountering a caravan of griffons. The wilds of that land had many foul beasts, and the gladius had been her constant companion since. Passing through the stone archway before her, she came across the harbour’s courtyard. She remembered it had always been bustling – tradesmares peddling their wares, sailors going to and fro, soldiers checking cargo… Now it was empty, except for the burnt wreckage of a caravan. Cloudkicker decided to investigate. The caravan appeared to be of zebra origin. Tattered banners bearing a flank sigil still flapped in the wind. Digging through the largest wagon, Cloudkicker found only charred beads and broken tools inside. Sighing, she jumped out of the wagon. A sharp pain cut through her right forehoof, causing her to jump up and down with a grimace. Looking down, she saw a crystal, bound in leather with a hook probably made for attaching to belts. It was a great chunk, dirty white with streaks of dirtier blue spiraling in towards its centre. She had stepped on a particularly sharp part of the crystal, and could see her own blood sinking into the crystal. Like the crystal is drinking it. The thought ran through Cloudkicker’s mind errantly, and she shook it off. Doing a bit of acrobatics, she examined her hoof. The cut was shallow, hardly worth thinking about. Still, she wrapped cloth around it. No sense in getting sick if something evil was in the air – which it certainly smelled like. Cloudkicker almost left the wreckage but she paused, looking back down at the crystal. She wanted, no, needed the crystal. Picking it up in her mouth, she hooked it to her saddlebag strap. It hung there, flopping about as she moved. It comforted her, in a strange way. She couldn’t put her hoof on why; it just did. She sniffed the air again. The stench was stronger. In fact, it smelled as though whatever produced it was near. Taking a few steps forward, she began to follow the smell. It led her through some winding sidestreets, until she saw him. The pony was kneeling in the centre of the courtyard before a dried up fountain. In the fountain’s middle was a tall, inverted cross. High up on it was a wheel with six spokes. Adorning the wheel were twisting designs that hurt the eye, and some kind of face. The face was the hardest to gaze upon. It seemed to be have horns made from branches, and it bore a disgusting cut of a mouth below three slitted eyes. Looking away from the devilish idol, she examined the earth pony prostrate before it. He was gaunt and a pale brown colour. A low moan escaped his lips as she watched him. She took a step forward and tripped over an overturned stone. Her leg banged against hard cobblestone. The pony must have heard the sound, as he rose and turned towards her. Lunging forward, he produced a longsword from seemingly out of nowhere. Cloudkicker flipped the gladius out of its sheath, catching it in her mouth. Hilt-first for once. Swinging the sword up, she caught the madpony’s blade, parrying it expertly. With the other pony off-balance, she plunged her sword into his chest. He staggered backwards allowing her to withdraw the now bloody blade before collapsing to the ground. A white shimmer surrounded his body, and she felt a bit of extra warmth creep into her. She shivered despite it. There was something about the warmth that was disconcerting and a little nauseating. It felt like she had taken something that didn’t belong to her. And yet, it was enticing, making her want to feel it again. Cloudkicker broke out of her reverie, noticing the dead pony’s blood. It was draining into the altar. Curious, she smashed the altar. Beneath it was a hole large enough for a pony to squeeze through. In fact, it looked like several already had. Maybe this is where the townsfolk ran off to, she thought. She wriggled her way through the hole. At one point she became stuck, forcing her to detach the saddlebags. They splashed in the water below, followed by Cloudkicker. She picked up the bags, carefully shaking as much water out as she could. After returning them to her side, she looked around. The crystal was glowing, Cloudkicker noticed, and it gave off enough light to illuminate the sewer for her, though not by much. A few feet are better than none, she reflected. The stench was almost unbearable now. Still she continued on, splashing through the sewer. A growl echoed from farther ahead. Cloudkicker froze for a moment, heart skipping a beat. Then she took another step forward. All her time in the wilds of Gryph had prepared her for anything. But not for this. Out of the darkness lunged a fat, giant monster. She could hardly believe it fit down here. It was easily three times her size, bulbous head rubbing against the ceiling. The head was full of beady red eyes, each glowing with an internal fire. Its two arms ended in a wriggling mass of stumpy tentacles. One such mass held a rusty flail in a strong grip. Its scaly skin was a dark, muddied green. The demon swung the flail at her, knocking out pieces of the ceiling as it did so. Cloudkicker flew up into the air to avoid the falling rubble. Taking her sword out again, she flew into position for a plunging attack on its head. She drove the sword down, missing most of its head. It still left a great gouge in the creature’s head and belly. Bleeding profusely and now somewhat blinded, the demon jumped up, breaking more of the ceiling. It came down hard, knocking Cloudkicker off-balance. While she was unbalanced, the demon struck again with the flail. This time it struck her, sending her tumbling into the wall. She could taste blood in her mouth as she struggled to stand, armour shattered where it struck her– The demon brought the flail down again– Then all was darkness. For her, at least. The demon left its snack where it laid, intending to come back to it later. So it did not notice the glowing crystal at the pony’s side. Nor did it see the pony slowly disappear, the glow of the crystal the final thing that vanished. -Crystal Sanctuary-“Lost soul, Forsaken of form, Be thee rebound in body, Be thee mended in spirit, Be thee granted the power to return.” These words echoed in Cloudkicker’s ears. She opened her eyes tentatively. To her surprise, she found herself in a circular chamber that seemed to glow from within. Looking down, she could see herself warped in a reflection on the floor. In fact, it seemed all the surfaces were reflective. In some, the reflection scattered in a thousand pieces, so that thousands of her stared back. It was also cold. Cloudkicker shivered, breath coming out in a fog. “So… another soul has been trapped.” The voice was different than the first, and had a distinct mocking lilt to it. “Why, it’s almost a carnival around here.” Looking up, Cloud saw a griffon perched upon a staircase that curved towards her. He was clad in chainmail, and an empty scabbard hung at his side. Of the griffon himself, he was a bland grey colour, and his emerald eyes peered uncomfortably at her. He seemed to have a glow about him. “Who’re you?” she asked, voice rough from disuse. “Me? I’m nobody. Just crestfallen.” He sniffed. “You seem to have enough life about you for the both of us… Hahaha.” The laugh, like his voice, was toneless and dead. “I’m Cloudkicker,” she said, stretching out her foreleg to shake his claw. He simply shook his head. “You’ll fit in better with the rest. Just pay me no mind. The others certainly don’t. But who cares? We’ll all be dead soon… Well, dead again.” He laughed that dead laugh again. Cloud frowned, and turned to walk away from the crestfallen griffon. She hadn’t gotten far when a soft, lovely voice called out to her. The same voice she had heard when she first entered this strange place. Down another staircase trotted a figure wrapped in a dark lavender robe. It was much taller than her, but it exuded a friendly aura. “Thou art the lost soul we sensed,” she said. From under her hood, a strand of pink-gold hair dangled. “Yeah? I guess. I’m Cloudkicker.” She raised her foreleg for a hoofshake but none came, once again. “Thee have come… for what? Glory? The adventure? Or perhaps money? These three are in abundance, though hard-fought.” “Who are you?” Cloud asked. The strange mare was starting to get on her nerves. The tall mare paused to adjust a crystal. The crystal shone from within, much like the one Cloud had. “Thou might call us the Caretaker. We keep this refuge and tend to the souls within.” “That chant back there…” Cloud frowned. “Was that you?” The mare nodded. “Thine form was dead when it passed to this realm. But now, life hath been given to it… Though, perhaps different.” With a sigh, the pegasus replied, “Look, I hate this cryptic metaphor crap. That’s why I’ve never liked fantasy. What’s going on here, and why…” The Caretaker raised a hoof to shush the pony. “Thou shalt find thine answers elsewhere. I am weary… we are weary. Find thy answers amongst the lost souls.” With that, she turned and walked back up the stairs. As she did so, an amulet slipped from inside her cloak and swung around where Cloud could see it. It was a yin-yang of sorts: one half was a blazing sun, the other a cold, crescent moon. Cloud filed this away for future reference, and looked around. She could hear hammering in the distance, and at a loss for anything else to do, followed the sound. To her surprise, she found an aged buffalo sitting before an iron forge, hammering away at something out of her sight. He looked up at her. “A new arrival,” he said. His voice was low and pleasing, with a faint accent to it. “I am Chief Quickshod. Or, I was chief.” He coughed. “What is there to be chief of other than bones?” He inclined his head towards the forge. “Now I smith. An ancient tradition that I, regrettably, am the only one to carry.” Cloud dipped her head in acknowledgement at his being a chieftain – she’d learned that much in the wilds of Gryph. “I am Cloudkicker, humble knight-errant. Or I was… I think I died.” Quickshod nodded. “Would it surprise you I died as well?” She shook her head. “Ah. Well. If you ever need smithing… Here I am!” He laughed uproariously. At her confused expression, he added, “What use is there in living in such a place if one cannot laugh?” She smiled at that. “Very little I suppose.” He nodded. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave me to my work. I’m fixing a necklace for Alex over there.” Quickshod gestured, and her gaze followed his gesture to a donkey, who sat by a bundle of goods. Since she had been dismissed by the buffalo, she decided to walk over and talk to the donkey. He was asleep when she came over, but a gentle “Hello?” served fine to wake him. “Hmm? Who’s there?” he asked. “Oh! A mare! And a pretty one at that.” Cloud found she couldn’t help but blush. “I be Alex the donkey. I take care of stuff, the type of things you want nothing more than to forget about. Land’s sake, you’ve got a lot. Let me take a load off of you.” Before she could reply, he got up and pulled her saddlebags off. It was a gentle pull, and he began to go through them. “Very interesting items you got here, missy. None that’ll do you good against the demons, no.” “Demons?” Cloud’s ears pricked up at that. “Oh, aye! You didn’t hear?” “I’ve… been away.” Alex shook his head. “Demons, lass. I don’t rightly know. One day, the world was right and beautiful. The next, foggy and corrupt.” He looked up from his examinations of the pearls and statues she had collected on her travels. “Truth be told, aside from the Witch, I might well be the only fellow here who wants to be here.” “The Witch?” She pronounced it with a capital like he had. “Dresses in purple, speaks like she’s a few thousand years out of date. Ye know her, I seen you talk.” “You mean the Caretaker.” “Caretaker says you, Witch says I. What other breed of creature has power over souls?” Cloud found she had no answer to that. “Ye know who would just love a visit? Martelé! You can’t miss her, she’s over by the Ocean.” He pointed in a far-off direction. Cloud squinted, and could barely make out a pony’s figure. She said a goodbye to Alex, who was still digging through her stuff. She didn’t mind. Most of it was for… for her sister. She paused, blinking back tears. Alula… Cloudkicker shook her head. She couldn’t think of things like that. Not now. Surely her parents had left the country before the demons took Cloudsdale. If they had taken Cloudsdale at all. Maybe Cloudsdale was safe. Taking in a deep breath, Cloud continued towards the figure. After a few short moments, she was at the side of a pony. The pony was a soft blue colour, with a subdued purple mane that brightened to an almost pink. She looked over at Cloud, and Cloud noticed she had a violin at her feet. “Is that a violin?” she asked. “Can you play?” “I play,” the pony said softly. Her voice sounded sluggish, and had a cute Ponié lilt to it. “Not as well as others. Mainly I just look at the ocean, and wish I were there.” Cloud followed the other mare’s gaze. The wall that stood before them seemed to be a window out to a fathomless, endless ocean. “It’s lovely,” Cloud said. “It is. Don’t you just wish you could go there? And suffocate in its depths?” Now Cloud frowned at the other mare. “That’s, uh, that’s dark.” “I’m a dark pony. Name’s Martelé. What’s yours?” “Cloudkicker. I kick clouds. Or, at least, I used to. Now I guess I’m a knight. The Caretaker seemed to think I could do something about the demons. Do you know anything about them?” Martelé’s eyes grew wide. “The demons. Merde. I spit on them!” To illustrate this, she spat on the floor. “They are vile, crude! And…” Her voice broke and her façade of bravado did as well. “And it was our fault they came. We dug too deep. Too deep for crystals.” She wouldn’t talk anymore after that, no matter how much Cloud tried. Shrugging, she could only say goodbye to Martelé and leave. After a few hours of wandering the Refuge, Cloud came across a curious sight: A robed unicorn with a thick beard. “Hello!” She waved at him. “I’m Cloudkicker. Who’re you?” The unicorn spun to face her, amber eyes aglow with excitement. “Ah! A new face. Yes, yes, come, come! I am Starburst! The Archmage!” He paused and looked her over. “You look in need of miracles, friend. See the zebra, or… Or the thing,” he added in disgust. “But don’t bother me! I’m doing experiments.” He turned back to the table he had his experiment on and Cloud saw that his “experiment” was a crystal much like the one that hung at her side. “What’s that crystal?” she ventured. “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just a crystal, my pet. Now shoo, you’ll unbalance everything!” Sighing, Cloud continued and saw that there was indeed a zebra nearby. The zebra sat at a makeshift altar, with a pony wrapped in brown beside her. They exchanged greetings, and Cloud sat down. The zebra was Zecora. Cloudkicker remembered her from Ponyville. She’d never really interacted with the zebra much, but it was comforting to have a familiar face around. Prostra was the pony. She spoke so softly Cloud could hardly hear her. “Hello,” was all she had to say at the moment. Her features were covered by her hood, and her hooves were wrapped in the same brown cloth as her robe. Zecora smiled. “I do nothing around here. Prostra does all the hard work, far and near.” “I do,” chimed in Prostra. “Would you like a miracle?” “I would if they can really help,” Cloudkicker said as she sat down in front of the altar. “Though I doubt they will.” Prostra slipped a small cloth artifact shaped like a shuttlecock into Cloud’s hooves. Attached to it was a single slip of paper. “Simply hold this talisman and whisper this prayer. A miracle of healing will descend upon you.” “Be wary when you pray,” Zecora warned. “For such a power will not stay, not for long. If you think otherwise you would be wrong.” “So, what? It’ll diminish in power?” Cloud frowned. It didn’t sound like the healing miracle was worth the trouble. “Well it’s meant to be miraculous,” Prostra said. “If something happens more than once it isn’t very miraculous is it? And the more you see it, the more mundane it appears.” There was a long pause. Cloud examined the talisman, turning it over to see as much of it as she could. She pulled the slip of paper out. A short prayer was written on it in Old Equus. Cloud’s generation had been one of the last to have mandatory Old Equus classes, so she had no trouble reading it. Finally, she decided to ask The Question: “What happened to Equestria? Why is it so messed up now?” Zecora and Prostra exchanged glances. Then, Prostra spoke up. “We… were in no position to see anything. Starburst would know.” Cloud nodded, and stood. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you girls.” As they said their goodbyes, Cloud turned and started back for Starburst. It didn’t take long to reach him. In fact, it felt like the distance was less, though that certainly wasn’t possible. When she found the aged magician, he was standing over a mess of powder. It took her a moment to realise the powder was actually the crystal from before. “Starburst?” He looked up at her. “You again. Well, the experiment is over. What do you need, child?” “I need to know what happened to Equestria.” Starburst sighed. “Sit down, sit down. It’s… it’s quite a tale, to be certain.” She sat down and he began to tell his story. “Shining Armor and Princess Cadance were married, you know this? Yes? Then you must also know of the return of the Crystal Empire. “There was a treaty made between the land of Equestria and the Empire. The terms of this treaty were simple – the crystals mined in the Empire were to go to Equestria. And so they did. The crystals were harvested, and then sent to Equestria to be sold after refining. “An era of enlightenment came upon the land. We built machines that rely on crystals. We used crystals to create magical catalysts so that even earth ponies could use the magic spells the crystals in the catalyst had ‘learned’. “Oh yes, learned. The crystals had a strange connection to magic. With enough practise, one could focus certain spells and the crystal would retain the knowledge of how to use the spell. Then you simply held the catalyst and thought of the spell and whiffo! it worked. “However, our greed soon got the better of us. To sate the growing demand for crystals, the crystal ponies dug deeper and deeper. They ended up digging too deeply and too greedily, and broke through to where nopony should travel. Tartarus. “From the cracks to Tartarus, there rose a deep, colourless fog. Soon the fog devoured all of Equestria. Even the greatest magical light could barely pierce the fog. “And from the fog rose demons, the greatest of which was their Queen. Taking many forms, they began their rampage upon the world, devouring what they came across. Buildings, ponies, souls… It didn’t matter with what they sated their appetite. Many of us fell to the demons, but others… Ah, others gave themselves to the demons. Thralls, we called them. “Soon, the demons and their thralls worked their way to the heart of Equestria. The Elements of Harmony were useless against the Queen. I theorise some deep connection between the source of the fog and the Queen’s inexplicable defence against the Elements… but you’re interested in facts, not my theories. “The Elements fell, and so did Canterlot. Of the princesses, I do not know. I was slain by a demon, and awoke here, under the care of that strange mare. She reminds me of somepony I used to know… Ah, but I am a foolish old stallion and prone to mistakes.” Cloud had been spellbound by his tale, not moving a muscle until he showed signs he had finished. “That’s awful.” An understatement. “Now dost thou understand why we ensnared thee?” asked the Caretaker. Cloud turned around and saw the tall mare approaching them. She could see a glimmer of a pink eye from underneath the hood. “I think so. But I don’t think I’m well suited for the job.” “Nopony truly is. But we see the threads of destiny enwrapt around thee, Cloudkicker.” She only nodded in response to the Caretaker’s proclamation. “If thou art ready, we shalt guide thee to thy destination.” “What destination?” Cloud asked. The Caretaker looked down at her, pink eyes quizzical. “The city of Canterlot. Thou shalt face thine first demon, and reclaim thine form.” “Oh” was all Cloud could say. Despite all the warning bells in her mind, she followed the Caretaker. She had a destiny, after all. -Shadows of Canterlot-What little sunlight shone through the clouds and fog still hurt Cloud’s eyes, causing her to squint. Raising a hoof to shield her eyes, she looked around. Next to her was a crystalline sword in a stone that pulsated with inner light. Something told her it had to do with the Crystal Sanctuary. Testing this theory, Cloud held out her crystal amulet. It leapt from her hooves, cord digging into her neck as it tried to latch onto the sword. Pulling it back, she saw that it pulsated with the same light as the sword. The farther it got from the sword, the less light it emitted. She returned the amulet to her neck, watching as it lost all lustre. Taking another look around, she noticed a gate that led to a covered passageway. The town was in surprisingly good shape, given that a plague of demons was stalking the land. Cloud trotted over to the gate and gave it an experimental shove. It refused to budge, and she grimaced. Locked. Her gaze passed over the courtyard again. All the other exits were blocked by fallen rubble or were otherwise boarded up. The gate was her only way out. Unless… Unless there were no anti-air measures in place. Cloudkicker had heard that ever since the changeling invasion a few years ago, there were magickal sigils that would violently protect the castle and city from unauthorized fliers. A far-off roar made her ears prick up, and she looked into the cloudy sky. From above the clouds flew a great red firedrake. With a roar, the dragon slowed until it wrapped itself around the pinnacle of the Tower Noblesse. There were no flashes of magic, no runed sigils appearing in the sky to strike the intruder down. She realised, in that instant, that Canterlot had truly fallen. *** “The crystal ponies are a more ancient race than thou wouldst think,” the Caretaker began. “Long ago, before our age, demons roamed the world freely. When the alicorns came from across the ocean into Equestria, they fought the demons deep into the centre of this world. “There they sealed the demons, imprisoning the Queen of Vile and lulling the Allfather into the forever sleep. They were aided by the crystal ponies, who fled to this sanctuary and returned when they saw the battle against the demons turn in the alicorns’ favour. “It was then that the alicorns discovered that Equestria was tethered to this realm through five magickal anchors. They reasoned that the demons could return via these anchors, so they sealed the anchors with a greatly powerful spell. “But now the anchors have been corrupted by the demons. We know not how long it will be until Equestria is destroyed by the corruption. Thine task, whether thou accept it or not, is to slay the demons who corrupt the anchors of this land. “The Queen of Vile stands high atop Canterlot, corrupting the very chains of existence. Far away in the Crystal Kingdom, the Everlasting Demon slumbers. In the Tower of Silence is the corruption. Deep in the Stinkend Bog lies another demon. And finally, high up in the realm of Cloudsdale is the final demon.” Cloudsdale. Cloudkicker stiffened at that, heart skipping a beat. Maybe she could find out what happened to Alula! “How do I get there?” she asked. The Caretaker gestured towards the mural on the wall. The painting was of several different places, the only recognizable one being Canterlot. It seemed like smoke was rising from the city, even though Cloudkicker knew the painting could not move. “There are more of these, each as close to the anchor as the crystal ponies’ magic would allow. Thou must fight thine way through many demons to reach the anchor. But such a thing will not be hard for a slayer of demons such as thee.” Cloud swallowed hard. “Yeah. Not hard at all…” *** Blinking her eyes, Cloudkicker looked down from her perch on the broken wall. She swayed from side-to-side, footing uneven. The distance down to the ground wasn’t that bad. She’d definitely leapt from greater heights when she was a filly. With one final glance at the firedrake far in the distance, she leapt, extending her wings. Cloud must have caught a good crosswind, for she floated gently down to the ground, hooves clacking on the pavement. She winced, and looked around. Nothing seemed to be lurking in the ruins, waiting for her to land so it could devour her. Cloudkicker started towards what she remembered to be the town square. If she could reach it, she could find most anything in the town. *** The damage wrought on Canterlot by the hordes of Tartarus was great. The city she had once known and loved was nothing but a charred skeleton. She took a step forward, carefully navigating the broken cobblestone. Upon finding the ground solid, Cloud took another step forward and another. The wind blew, ruffling her mane and bringing the stench of fire and rot to her nose. The devils of Tartarus were not present in this area of the town, she had noticed. They were all higher up, by the castle for whatever reason. She had occasionally encountered the almost-mindless thralls of the demons, stumbling around blindly. These Cloud took care to avoid – she had learned long ago the shrieks of a thrall would bring terror down upon her. At times she would check her side to make sure the crystal was still hanging there. Seeing that it was, she would breathe a heavy sigh of relief and continue towards the town square. Soon, she came to a pit. It was an unnatural pit, and was as if a huge chunk of ground had been ripped up by a giant. The pegasus slowed in her walk and gingerly stepped over to investigate. “Hello?” a voice drifted over from the bottom of the pit. “Are you sane?” “I like to think I am,” Cloud said, voice rough from disuse. “Who’s down there?” “Oh thank Celestia!” The voice brightened distinctly from its original, terrified state. The tremble of fear was still there though. “It is I, the Great and Powerful Trixie! Those beasts locked me in a cage and threw me down here. I hate to think what will happen if they return.” “Me too,” the pegasus muttered. Louder, so that Trixie could hear, she added, “Trixie, hold on a moment. I’m gonna fly down there and see about breaking the lock.” Glancing around, Cloud saw a good size rock. Perfect for breaking things. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and bit down into it. Her teeth ground against the rough surface of the rock, but she managed to keep a grip on it. Cloud moved to the edge of the pit, leaning back on her haunches to propel herself into the air. The ground gave way under her, and she tumbled forward into the pit. The sword clattered out of her reach as she struck bottom. She hadn’t seen the crystal fly away though – maybe it was still there. Her head hurt fiercely, a fiery stab of pain with each breath she took. The rock she had taken was a few inches away. She grabbed it again, and slowly dragged herself to the cage. The cage was half-buried in the rubble, crusted over with rust. With a good amount of effort, Cloud managed to prop herself up on the cage. She slammed down on the lock with the stone, ignoring each fresh burst of pain in her skull. After what seemed an eternity, the lock snapped, and Trixie kicked open the door. The unicorn leapt out, tumbling into the pit just like Cloud had a few moments ago. Except unlike Cloud she had less of a fall ahead of her. Cloud hopped down from the cage, stumbling as she did so. “Is this yours?” Trixie asked, holding the sword in an aura of magic. “Trixie almost hurt herself on it.” “Yeah,” Cloud managed. She took the sword away from Trixie and sheathed it. Trixie looked around. “I will save us, never fear.” She sounded contemptuous and fearless, but Cloud knew better. She could hear the almost-paralyzing fear in Trixie’s voice, as hidden as it was. Trixie put a foreleg around Cloud’s neck, and lowered her head. Blue magic swirled around her horn, and Cloud found her head spinning again as a flash of light blinded her. Blinking, Cloud saw they were out of the pit, which was a few meters behind them now. “Trixie knows her magic well,” the unicorn said with a haughty flip of her mane. “Magic’s good and all, but what good is it right now?” Cloud looked around. The shadows were lengthening, which meant night was falling. At night the demons would likely return here to seek their dinner. It wouldn’t be a good idea to stay here. “We need to get out of here.” “I had heard…” Trixie shook her head. “No, that’s an old mare’s tale.” Cloud, checking herself for her crystal, looked up. “What is?” “Well, I had heard the crystal ponies in the north created some kind of… sanctuary, I suppose. Somewhere to escape this horrible place. Accessible only by a certain kind of crystal.” She looked away with a sad frown. “If only she were here… Twilight Sparkle would know better than me.” Finding the crystal, Cloud produced it. “A crystal like this?” Trixie’s gaze went over the crystal a few times. “Possibly… Trixie doesn’t know much about crystals but maybe.” Magic crackled around her horn and around the crystal. After a few moments, she spoke again. “Yes, Trixie feels an enchantment. Shall we?” Cloud put a foreleg around Trixie’s neck. “I don’t see another way,” she said. The magic around the crystal brightened– There was a great flash– And the two opened their eyes. Around them was a fancifully decorated hall, as clean as one could hope for. Their reflections stared back at them from the floor. They had made it to the Sanctuary. Trixie leapt for joy, shouting, “Trixie made it, Trixie made it!” Cloud shook her head, glancing over at the Caretaker, who was approaching the pair. “Thou art new,” she said, lifting her head to gaze upon Trixie. “We felt thine presence enter our realm. ’Tis a joy to see thou, a living being in this place of demise.” Trixie frowned and looked over at Cloud, who was now examining her reflection in the floor. “What does she mean?” “We’re dead.” Cloudkicker’s voice was cracking. “Everyone here but you is dead. We all died but for some damnable reason we’re still… alive. But not quite alive. I don’t understand it either. This nag,” she said pointing to the Caretaker, “wants me to fix everything! Me! I barely understand what’s going on and I’m supposed to save the world? I’m a regular pony.” The Caretaker shook her head. “Nay, the webs of fate are intertwined with thou. Such a thing I have not seen since the Elements of Harmony took up bearers. Thou art the one that shalt bring harmony once again to this land, whether thou desire such a thing or not. ’Tis destiny, pure and simple. Tell us, despite thine desperation, doth thou still desire on some level to aid us? To kill as many demons as possible?” There was a long silence. Then, very quietly, Cloudkicker spoke again. “Yes…” “’Tis destiny weaving her loom, driving thou to thine fate. Thou kickest against the goads, but thou art unable to break free from fate.” “So then what the heck do I do?” Cloudkicker spat. “Fight and die, and come back again, eternally?” “Yes,” was all the Caretaker said in response. She turned and walked away. *** The ruins of Canterlot beckoned Cloudkicker once again. Sighing, the pegasus took to the skies, scanning the ground below. Her guess was there was some sort of demon nearby that was powerful enough to interfere with the teleportation enchantment on the moving painting. Otherwise, she’d be straight to the Queen of Vile, whoever that was. She glanced up nervously at the Tower Noblesse, where the firedrake had perched to sleep. The dragon was gone now, and Cloud couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in her chest at that fact. Still, a dragon wasn’t the quietest of creatures and she felt she could elude it easily if it came to that. There was certainly enough rubble to hide under. Something whistled past her ear, and she felt a sharp pain in her right wing. The ground came spiraling up at her, and she let out a strangled yell. She struck the ground headfirst, tumbling onto her back. Groaning, Cloudkicker tried to pick herself up. Her head was spinning, and she felt like vomiting. Sharp pain was stabbing her brain, making it hard for her to see or even think. Warmth flooded her mouth and she opened the floodgates, allowing vomit to spew onto the ground and her hooves. There was a clattering from in front of her. Looking up unsteadily, Cloud saw a gaunt figure wielding a bow approaching her, notching an arrow with its wing. With a quick glance, she saw that a similar arrow had pierced her wing, making it useless. With her good wing, she flipped her sword out of its sheath and into her mouth. She managed to catch it hilt-first. I’m getting good at this. She rushed forward as quickly as her wobbly legs could carry her. Somehow Cloudkicker reached the other pegasus before he could draw his bowstring. She slashed at him, a spurt of blood splattering on her face. He toppled over with a gargle, and she felt that strange warmth, like something was being added to her on the inside. The warmth chased away the dizziness and pain, but it gave her a feeling of miserableness. Cloud felt like vomiting again. She tried in vain, dry heaving as she’d already purged herself moments before. A mad giggle reached her ears. Cloud whipped her head up, grabbing her sword and taking it into her mouth. To her surprise, a wizened crone of an earth pony stood on a pile of rubble, shroud covering her body. “So, you bear the curse of undeath,” she croaked. “Such a curious thing. Such a vile thing. You reap the souls of those more unfortunate than you, and for what? A moment’s respite? The power to continue? You must ask yourself if death is truly what you desire.” “Great, another riddle master,” Cloud muttered. Louder, she added, “Who are you to tell me what do to?” The old mare chuckled drily. “I am well aware of the curse of undeath, and what it does to those that are cursed. Perhaps I am cursed, or perhaps I knew one who was cursed. Whatever the matter is, you must know I am an… expert in many things. Hee hee hee!” Cloud scowled and started to turn away. “Unless you’re gonna tell me something useful, go away.” “I know that a demon is clouding the path to the anchor of Canterlot, deep within the castle. Not just one demon, no… Four demons. And then the path to every other anchor is infested with demons strong enough to obscure such a way. And even kill you.” She cackled again. “But what do I know? I am just a worthless mare, am I not?” Cloud looked back at the crone. “Okay, where is this first demon? Where do I go?” With another unnerving giggle, the old mare spoke again. “Travel to the foreign bazaar that lies on the path to the castle gates. Perhaps there you may encounter a butcher of ponies. Perhaps you may even defeat him. Such things are hard to foresee, and harder still to accomplish.” “What about these other demons?” The crone sighed. “One guards the castle of his Beloved, letting none pass. One mourns in the dungeon. The final defiles the throne deep within the castle. Of those past these city walls, I cannot say. They are hidden, past my sight. I suppose you will find out, one way or another.” Cloud looked away for one moment, thinking she had heard a sound in the ruined town. When her gaze returned to where the old mare had been, there was nothing. She frowned, and shook her head. The foreign bazaar, eh? Easy trek. Only a few minutes walk from here, if she wasn’t mistaken. She started on her journey to the bazaar, dread heavy on her mind. A butcher of ponies didn’t sound very pleasant. Hopefully I won’t be butchered by it… *** The bazaar should have been in sight. Instead of a clear sightline into the bazaar, the gate was covered in a swirling fog, which rose from the ground where it normally would lay thickly. Above the gate, everything was clear. Cloud would’ve flown over, but her wing… She winced as the wing twitched at the thought. She took a tentative step forward. Her hoof reached out and touched the swirling fog that covered the entry. Something pushed her hoof back. Frowning, she pushed harder. Her hoof soon found traction, slowly slipping into the fog. Cloud put her back into it, pushing with her entire body. She stepped through the fog, and as soon as her eyes met the sight before her, regretted it. -The Butcher-Cloudkicker’s first reaction was one of terror. She was frozen in place, horrified. A demon easily that would have been four times her size had it not been for its hunchback stood there, swinging a gargantuan butcher’s knife at a bloody chunk of meat. She felt queasy when she started to think about the source of the meat, so she tried to force that thought down. Cloud let out a little squeal of terror, and the butcher demon snapped its head to look at her. The head was crocodilian, and bands of black leather bit deeply into the skin around its mouth, binding it shut. The hunchbacked crocodile-man took a lumbering step towards her, raising its cleaver. Cloud dashed forward, ducking beneath its legs as the knife slammed into the pavement. An uneasy growl emerged from the bound snout of the beast. It turned to face her, beady red eyes glowing with anger. Cloud strafed along the side, making sure to keep the demon’s front to her side. She swung her sword, biting deeply into the hilt. The blade tore into the creature’s hamstring, toppling it over. It landed hard, the butcher’s knife flipping upside-down and sticking to the monster’s chest. Cloud took this opportunity to dig the sword out of the thing’s heel, and she rushed for the head. Her swipe was eager and clumsy, and it missed most of the important bits. Instead, it cut into the binding keeping the demon’s mouth shut. With surprising speed, the butcher leapt up, torn tendon forgotten. With one claw, it ripped the other side of its mouth open. Its lower jaw split in two, each half filled with teeth. The jaws gnashed against each other, black blood splattering on the ground as teeth dug into its gums. Its other claw pulled the butcher knife free from its chest, causing more blood to spill. Cloud’s hooves started to slide on the blood-slick cobblestone, causing her to lose balance. She almost fell over, but managed to right herself before she could. The butcher took advantage of this, bringing the cleaver slamming down. It missed by a slim margin, barely shearing a bit of her tail hair off. Cloud slashed at the demon’s wrist, cutting into it deeply. The cleaver clattered to the ground and the butcher raised its arm, looking at the damage with a low hiss. Cloud fluttered her wings, wincing in pain. She managed to get some lift, and she slashed her sword again at the oozing wound on the demon’s chest. She must’ve struck something vital, for the butcher roared in pain, falling backwards. Landing hard on her hooves, Cloud ran towards the demon as it landed on its back. She hopped onto its chest, and brought her sword down upon the wound. The blade buried itself deep, almost to the hilt. When she ripped it out, the butcher’s body began to disintegrate. It was slow, melting into the same black ooze it bled. Cloud was stuck in it, until the ooze began to turn to ash and drift away on the winds. Where the creature’s heart would have been arose a crystal sword like the one where she had entered Canterlot. Mounted on the sword was a crystal that resembled the one at Cloud’s side. Gingerly, she took it into her hooves. It pulsated with a sickly green light and it felt rotten, if such a thing was possible. She leaned on the crystal sword, examining the sick green crystal. She was so enrapt in her prize that she failed to notice the soul crystal around her neck slowly floating over to the sword. When it struck the sword, a white light surrounded Cloud. “Woah! Hey!” she shouted, looking down to see her body slowly fade out of existence. When she opened her eyes, she was back in the Crystal Sanctuary. Blinking, she looked around. Cloud jumped when she saw the Caretaker standing so close to her. “Hopping Luna on a pogo stick! You scared the crap out of me.” The Caretaker didn’t respond to that. Instead, she waved her staff at Cloud. “Thou hast the soul crystal of the demon you hast slain. Such power thine shall inherit soon. Give us the soul crystal; we shall keep it safe for thou.” Cloud must have looked skeptical, for the hooded mare continued. “’Tis truth. We have no desire for the souls of demons, but we shall keep it safe until its power is ready to be made manifest.” With a sigh, Cloudkicker handed the crystal over. Enveloping the crystal in a shimmering, multicolored aura, the Caretaker slipped it into her robe. “Thankee-sai,” she said. “When the time comes, thou may have this returned to thee so thou may forge a weapon from the soul. But that time is far away.” She turned away and took a few steps forward before Cloud spoke. “Hey, I met a crazy old mare in the ruins. Who is she?” The Caretaker looked back over her shoulder. “In truth, we know not. Even though thou hast cleared the fog around Canterlot somewhat, we still cannot gaze into it for long for fear of alerting the Queen of Vile. ’Tis troubling to know a soul yet wanders the land, but we cannot save them either.” “You didn’t have any problem saving the rest of the people here,” Cloud said, stepping over to where the Caretaker was. She leaned in close, seeing the dim violet light of the pony’s eyes. “What’s the difference?” The Caretaker sighed. “’Tis quite the difference, child. For those who art here suffered and died only to be born anew. Canst thou not see the difference?” Cloud frowned. She didn’t but it was pointless to antagonize the Caretaker more. Instead, she just shook her head. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me, I guess.” There was silence for a moment, followed by the clacking of the Caretaker’s hooves on the marble floor. Cloud ended up wandering deep into the Sanctuary. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going; she just wanted to get away from the Caretaker. Everything had changed and Cloud wasn’t entirely sure what her place was in this new world yet. The Caretaker certainly thought she knew what it was. Lost in thought, she bumped into a familiar pony. “Whoop! Sorry, Martelé.” The earth pony regarded Cloud with a dispassionate look. “It is no matter. I heard you touched the painting and were drawn into the world of the dead again.” Cloud shrugged, not entirely sure what the world of the dead was. “I went to Canterlot, if that’s what you mean.” Martelé sighed. “Canterlot, the world of the dead… Does it matter which they are? They are the same. The dead lurk there, seeking souls of the living, as do the demons. You know little of the new world.” “Yeah? And you know more?” “Go to the land of my home, Cime, the Crystal Empire. There you will find answers. Perhaps not the answers you desire, but answers none the less.” With a frown, Cloud tried to get the other mare to explain, but it was no use. She simply stared out at the endless sea and sighed deeply. “To swim, to drown…” she whispered. “To feel the bite of the wind again…”
-Prologue-It was the rot that she noticed first – the sickening stench of death and decay rising above the sting of a salty breeze. It surrounded her as she stepped off the gangway. Behind her, the small cutter rose and fell with the rhythm of the waves. Farther off in the distance was the ship she had come in on, preparing to weigh anchor. The path down from the pier was overgrown with weeds, breaking the cobblestone that once lined it. The arch that led to the port city of Ponymouth was crumbling and mossy. The stench was heavier from the city. One greyish ear twitched, sending a few strands of blond mane fluttering. She could hear something coming from within the city. It sounded like grunting, or moaning. It was too faint to make out. Cloudkicker took a few steps forward, bracing for anything. One wing brushed the hilt of the gladius that hung from her saddlebag strap. She’d bought the gladius in the land of Gryph after encountering a caravan of griffons. The wilds of that land had many foul beasts, and the gladius had been her constant companion since. Passing through the stone archway before her, she came across the harbour’s courtyard. She remembered it had always been bustling – tradesmares peddling their wares, sailors going to and fro, soldiers checking cargo… Now it was empty, except for the burnt wreckage of a caravan. Cloudkicker decided to investigate. The caravan appeared to be of zebra origin. Tattered banners bearing a flank sigil still flapped in the wind. Digging through the largest wagon, Cloudkicker found only charred beads and broken tools inside. Sighing, she jumped out of the wagon. A sharp pain cut through her right forehoof, causing her to jump up and down with a grimace. Looking down, she saw a crystal, bound in leather with a hook probably made for attaching to belts. It was a great chunk, dirty white with streaks of dirtier blue spiraling in towards its centre. She had stepped on a particularly sharp part of the crystal, and could see her own blood sinking into the crystal. Like the crystal is drinking it. The thought ran through Cloudkicker’s mind errantly, and she shook it off. Doing a bit of acrobatics, she examined her hoof. The cut was shallow, hardly worth thinking about. Still, she wrapped cloth around it. No sense in getting sick if something evil was in the air – which it certainly smelled like. Cloudkicker almost left the wreckage but she paused, looking back down at the crystal. She wanted, no, needed the crystal. Picking it up in her mouth, she hooked it to her saddlebag strap. It hung there, flopping about as she moved. It comforted her, in a strange way. She couldn’t put her hoof on why; it just did. She sniffed the air again. The stench was stronger. In fact, it smelled as though whatever produced it was near. Taking a few steps forward, she began to follow the smell. It led her through some winding sidestreets, until she saw him. The pony was kneeling in the centre of the courtyard before a dried up fountain. In the fountain’s middle was a tall, inverted cross. High up on it was a wheel with six spokes. Adorning the wheel were twisting designs that hurt the eye, and some kind of face. The face was the hardest to gaze upon. It seemed to be have horns made from branches, and it bore a disgusting cut of a mouth below three slitted eyes. Looking away from the devilish idol, she examined the earth pony prostrate before it. He was gaunt and a pale brown colour. A low moan escaped his lips as she watched him. She took a step forward and tripped over an overturned stone. Her leg banged against hard cobblestone. The pony must have heard the sound, as he rose and turned towards her. Lunging forward, he produced a longsword from seemingly out of nowhere. Cloudkicker flipped the gladius out of its sheath, catching it in her mouth. Hilt-first for once. Swinging the sword up, she caught the madpony’s blade, parrying it expertly. With the other pony off-balance, she plunged her sword into his chest. He staggered backwards allowing her to withdraw the now bloody blade before collapsing to the ground. A white shimmer surrounded his body, and she felt a bit of extra warmth creep into her. She shivered despite it. There was something about the warmth that was disconcerting and a little nauseating. It felt like she had taken something that didn’t belong to her. And yet, it was enticing, making her want to feel it again. Cloudkicker broke out of her reverie, noticing the dead pony’s blood. It was draining into the altar. Curious, she smashed the altar. Beneath it was a hole large enough for a pony to squeeze through. In fact, it looked like several already had. Maybe this is where the townsfolk ran off to, she thought. She wriggled her way through the hole. At one point she became stuck, forcing her to detach the saddlebags. They splashed in the water below, followed by Cloudkicker. She picked up the bags, carefully shaking as much water out as she could. After returning them to her side, she looked around. The crystal was glowing, Cloudkicker noticed, and it gave off enough light to illuminate the sewer for her, though not by much. A few feet are better than none, she reflected. The stench was almost unbearable now. Still she continued on, splashing through the sewer. A growl echoed from farther ahead. Cloudkicker froze for a moment, heart skipping a beat. Then she took another step forward. All her time in the wilds of Gryph had prepared her for anything. But not for this. Out of the darkness lunged a fat, giant monster. She could hardly believe it fit down here. It was easily three times her size, bulbous head rubbing against the ceiling. The head was full of beady red eyes, each glowing with an internal fire. Its two arms ended in a wriggling mass of stumpy tentacles. One such mass held a rusty flail in a strong grip. Its scaly skin was a dark, muddied green. The demon swung the flail at her, knocking out pieces of the ceiling as it did so. Cloudkicker flew up into the air to avoid the falling rubble. Taking her sword out again, she flew into position for a plunging attack on its head. She drove the sword down, missing most of its head. It still left a great gouge in the creature’s head and belly. Bleeding profusely and now somewhat blinded, the demon jumped up, breaking more of the ceiling. It came down hard, knocking Cloudkicker off-balance. While she was unbalanced, the demon struck again with the flail. This time it struck her, sending her tumbling into the wall. She could taste blood in her mouth as she struggled to stand, armour shattered where it struck her– The demon brought the flail down again– Then all was darkness. For her, at least. The demon left its snack where it laid, intending to come back to it later. So it did not notice the glowing crystal at the pony’s side. Nor did it see the pony slowly disappear, the glow of the crystal the final thing that vanished.
-Crystal Sanctuary-“Lost soul, Forsaken of form, Be thee rebound in body, Be thee mended in spirit, Be thee granted the power to return.” These words echoed in Cloudkicker’s ears. She opened her eyes tentatively. To her surprise, she found herself in a circular chamber that seemed to glow from within. Looking down, she could see herself warped in a reflection on the floor. In fact, it seemed all the surfaces were reflective. In some, the reflection scattered in a thousand pieces, so that thousands of her stared back. It was also cold. Cloudkicker shivered, breath coming out in a fog. “So… another soul has been trapped.” The voice was different than the first, and had a distinct mocking lilt to it. “Why, it’s almost a carnival around here.” Looking up, Cloud saw a griffon perched upon a staircase that curved towards her. He was clad in chainmail, and an empty scabbard hung at his side. Of the griffon himself, he was a bland grey colour, and his emerald eyes peered uncomfortably at her. He seemed to have a glow about him. “Who’re you?” she asked, voice rough from disuse. “Me? I’m nobody. Just crestfallen.” He sniffed. “You seem to have enough life about you for the both of us… Hahaha.” The laugh, like his voice, was toneless and dead. “I’m Cloudkicker,” she said, stretching out her foreleg to shake his claw. He simply shook his head. “You’ll fit in better with the rest. Just pay me no mind. The others certainly don’t. But who cares? We’ll all be dead soon… Well, dead again.” He laughed that dead laugh again. Cloud frowned, and turned to walk away from the crestfallen griffon. She hadn’t gotten far when a soft, lovely voice called out to her. The same voice she had heard when she first entered this strange place. Down another staircase trotted a figure wrapped in a dark lavender robe. It was much taller than her, but it exuded a friendly aura. “Thou art the lost soul we sensed,” she said. From under her hood, a strand of pink-gold hair dangled. “Yeah? I guess. I’m Cloudkicker.” She raised her foreleg for a hoofshake but none came, once again. “Thee have come… for what? Glory? The adventure? Or perhaps money? These three are in abundance, though hard-fought.” “Who are you?” Cloud asked. The strange mare was starting to get on her nerves. The tall mare paused to adjust a crystal. The crystal shone from within, much like the one Cloud had. “Thou might call us the Caretaker. We keep this refuge and tend to the souls within.” “That chant back there…” Cloud frowned. “Was that you?” The mare nodded. “Thine form was dead when it passed to this realm. But now, life hath been given to it… Though, perhaps different.” With a sigh, the pegasus replied, “Look, I hate this cryptic metaphor crap. That’s why I’ve never liked fantasy. What’s going on here, and why…” The Caretaker raised a hoof to shush the pony. “Thou shalt find thine answers elsewhere. I am weary… we are weary. Find thy answers amongst the lost souls.” With that, she turned and walked back up the stairs. As she did so, an amulet slipped from inside her cloak and swung around where Cloud could see it. It was a yin-yang of sorts: one half was a blazing sun, the other a cold, crescent moon. Cloud filed this away for future reference, and looked around. She could hear hammering in the distance, and at a loss for anything else to do, followed the sound. To her surprise, she found an aged buffalo sitting before an iron forge, hammering away at something out of her sight. He looked up at her. “A new arrival,” he said. His voice was low and pleasing, with a faint accent to it. “I am Chief Quickshod. Or, I was chief.” He coughed. “What is there to be chief of other than bones?” He inclined his head towards the forge. “Now I smith. An ancient tradition that I, regrettably, am the only one to carry.” Cloud dipped her head in acknowledgement at his being a chieftain – she’d learned that much in the wilds of Gryph. “I am Cloudkicker, humble knight-errant. Or I was… I think I died.” Quickshod nodded. “Would it surprise you I died as well?” She shook her head. “Ah. Well. If you ever need smithing… Here I am!” He laughed uproariously. At her confused expression, he added, “What use is there in living in such a place if one cannot laugh?” She smiled at that. “Very little I suppose.” He nodded. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave me to my work. I’m fixing a necklace for Alex over there.” Quickshod gestured, and her gaze followed his gesture to a donkey, who sat by a bundle of goods. Since she had been dismissed by the buffalo, she decided to walk over and talk to the donkey. He was asleep when she came over, but a gentle “Hello?” served fine to wake him. “Hmm? Who’s there?” he asked. “Oh! A mare! And a pretty one at that.” Cloud found she couldn’t help but blush. “I be Alex the donkey. I take care of stuff, the type of things you want nothing more than to forget about. Land’s sake, you’ve got a lot. Let me take a load off of you.” Before she could reply, he got up and pulled her saddlebags off. It was a gentle pull, and he began to go through them. “Very interesting items you got here, missy. None that’ll do you good against the demons, no.” “Demons?” Cloud’s ears pricked up at that. “Oh, aye! You didn’t hear?” “I’ve… been away.” Alex shook his head. “Demons, lass. I don’t rightly know. One day, the world was right and beautiful. The next, foggy and corrupt.” He looked up from his examinations of the pearls and statues she had collected on her travels. “Truth be told, aside from the Witch, I might well be the only fellow here who wants to be here.” “The Witch?” She pronounced it with a capital like he had. “Dresses in purple, speaks like she’s a few thousand years out of date. Ye know her, I seen you talk.” “You mean the Caretaker.” “Caretaker says you, Witch says I. What other breed of creature has power over souls?” Cloud found she had no answer to that. “Ye know who would just love a visit? Martelé! You can’t miss her, she’s over by the Ocean.” He pointed in a far-off direction. Cloud squinted, and could barely make out a pony’s figure. She said a goodbye to Alex, who was still digging through her stuff. She didn’t mind. Most of it was for… for her sister. She paused, blinking back tears. Alula… Cloudkicker shook her head. She couldn’t think of things like that. Not now. Surely her parents had left the country before the demons took Cloudsdale. If they had taken Cloudsdale at all. Maybe Cloudsdale was safe. Taking in a deep breath, Cloud continued towards the figure. After a few short moments, she was at the side of a pony. The pony was a soft blue colour, with a subdued purple mane that brightened to an almost pink. She looked over at Cloud, and Cloud noticed she had a violin at her feet. “Is that a violin?” she asked. “Can you play?” “I play,” the pony said softly. Her voice sounded sluggish, and had a cute Ponié lilt to it. “Not as well as others. Mainly I just look at the ocean, and wish I were there.” Cloud followed the other mare’s gaze. The wall that stood before them seemed to be a window out to a fathomless, endless ocean. “It’s lovely,” Cloud said. “It is. Don’t you just wish you could go there? And suffocate in its depths?” Now Cloud frowned at the other mare. “That’s, uh, that’s dark.” “I’m a dark pony. Name’s Martelé. What’s yours?” “Cloudkicker. I kick clouds. Or, at least, I used to. Now I guess I’m a knight. The Caretaker seemed to think I could do something about the demons. Do you know anything about them?” Martelé’s eyes grew wide. “The demons. Merde. I spit on them!” To illustrate this, she spat on the floor. “They are vile, crude! And…” Her voice broke and her façade of bravado did as well. “And it was our fault they came. We dug too deep. Too deep for crystals.” She wouldn’t talk anymore after that, no matter how much Cloud tried. Shrugging, she could only say goodbye to Martelé and leave. After a few hours of wandering the Refuge, Cloud came across a curious sight: A robed unicorn with a thick beard. “Hello!” She waved at him. “I’m Cloudkicker. Who’re you?” The unicorn spun to face her, amber eyes aglow with excitement. “Ah! A new face. Yes, yes, come, come! I am Starburst! The Archmage!” He paused and looked her over. “You look in need of miracles, friend. See the zebra, or… Or the thing,” he added in disgust. “But don’t bother me! I’m doing experiments.” He turned back to the table he had his experiment on and Cloud saw that his “experiment” was a crystal much like the one that hung at her side. “What’s that crystal?” she ventured. “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just a crystal, my pet. Now shoo, you’ll unbalance everything!” Sighing, Cloud continued and saw that there was indeed a zebra nearby. The zebra sat at a makeshift altar, with a pony wrapped in brown beside her. They exchanged greetings, and Cloud sat down. The zebra was Zecora. Cloudkicker remembered her from Ponyville. She’d never really interacted with the zebra much, but it was comforting to have a familiar face around. Prostra was the pony. She spoke so softly Cloud could hardly hear her. “Hello,” was all she had to say at the moment. Her features were covered by her hood, and her hooves were wrapped in the same brown cloth as her robe. Zecora smiled. “I do nothing around here. Prostra does all the hard work, far and near.” “I do,” chimed in Prostra. “Would you like a miracle?” “I would if they can really help,” Cloudkicker said as she sat down in front of the altar. “Though I doubt they will.” Prostra slipped a small cloth artifact shaped like a shuttlecock into Cloud’s hooves. Attached to it was a single slip of paper. “Simply hold this talisman and whisper this prayer. A miracle of healing will descend upon you.” “Be wary when you pray,” Zecora warned. “For such a power will not stay, not for long. If you think otherwise you would be wrong.” “So, what? It’ll diminish in power?” Cloud frowned. It didn’t sound like the healing miracle was worth the trouble. “Well it’s meant to be miraculous,” Prostra said. “If something happens more than once it isn’t very miraculous is it? And the more you see it, the more mundane it appears.” There was a long pause. Cloud examined the talisman, turning it over to see as much of it as she could. She pulled the slip of paper out. A short prayer was written on it in Old Equus. Cloud’s generation had been one of the last to have mandatory Old Equus classes, so she had no trouble reading it. Finally, she decided to ask The Question: “What happened to Equestria? Why is it so messed up now?” Zecora and Prostra exchanged glances. Then, Prostra spoke up. “We… were in no position to see anything. Starburst would know.” Cloud nodded, and stood. “Well, it’s been nice chatting with you girls.” As they said their goodbyes, Cloud turned and started back for Starburst. It didn’t take long to reach him. In fact, it felt like the distance was less, though that certainly wasn’t possible. When she found the aged magician, he was standing over a mess of powder. It took her a moment to realise the powder was actually the crystal from before. “Starburst?” He looked up at her. “You again. Well, the experiment is over. What do you need, child?” “I need to know what happened to Equestria.” Starburst sighed. “Sit down, sit down. It’s… it’s quite a tale, to be certain.” She sat down and he began to tell his story. “Shining Armor and Princess Cadance were married, you know this? Yes? Then you must also know of the return of the Crystal Empire. “There was a treaty made between the land of Equestria and the Empire. The terms of this treaty were simple – the crystals mined in the Empire were to go to Equestria. And so they did. The crystals were harvested, and then sent to Equestria to be sold after refining. “An era of enlightenment came upon the land. We built machines that rely on crystals. We used crystals to create magical catalysts so that even earth ponies could use the magic spells the crystals in the catalyst had ‘learned’. “Oh yes, learned. The crystals had a strange connection to magic. With enough practise, one could focus certain spells and the crystal would retain the knowledge of how to use the spell. Then you simply held the catalyst and thought of the spell and whiffo! it worked. “However, our greed soon got the better of us. To sate the growing demand for crystals, the crystal ponies dug deeper and deeper. They ended up digging too deeply and too greedily, and broke through to where nopony should travel. Tartarus. “From the cracks to Tartarus, there rose a deep, colourless fog. Soon the fog devoured all of Equestria. Even the greatest magical light could barely pierce the fog. “And from the fog rose demons, the greatest of which was their Queen. Taking many forms, they began their rampage upon the world, devouring what they came across. Buildings, ponies, souls… It didn’t matter with what they sated their appetite. Many of us fell to the demons, but others… Ah, others gave themselves to the demons. Thralls, we called them. “Soon, the demons and their thralls worked their way to the heart of Equestria. The Elements of Harmony were useless against the Queen. I theorise some deep connection between the source of the fog and the Queen’s inexplicable defence against the Elements… but you’re interested in facts, not my theories. “The Elements fell, and so did Canterlot. Of the princesses, I do not know. I was slain by a demon, and awoke here, under the care of that strange mare. She reminds me of somepony I used to know… Ah, but I am a foolish old stallion and prone to mistakes.” Cloud had been spellbound by his tale, not moving a muscle until he showed signs he had finished. “That’s awful.” An understatement. “Now dost thou understand why we ensnared thee?” asked the Caretaker. Cloud turned around and saw the tall mare approaching them. She could see a glimmer of a pink eye from underneath the hood. “I think so. But I don’t think I’m well suited for the job.” “Nopony truly is. But we see the threads of destiny enwrapt around thee, Cloudkicker.” She only nodded in response to the Caretaker’s proclamation. “If thou art ready, we shalt guide thee to thy destination.” “What destination?” Cloud asked. The Caretaker looked down at her, pink eyes quizzical. “The city of Canterlot. Thou shalt face thine first demon, and reclaim thine form.” “Oh” was all Cloud could say. Despite all the warning bells in her mind, she followed the Caretaker. She had a destiny, after all.
-Shadows of Canterlot-What little sunlight shone through the clouds and fog still hurt Cloud’s eyes, causing her to squint. Raising a hoof to shield her eyes, she looked around. Next to her was a crystalline sword in a stone that pulsated with inner light. Something told her it had to do with the Crystal Sanctuary. Testing this theory, Cloud held out her crystal amulet. It leapt from her hooves, cord digging into her neck as it tried to latch onto the sword. Pulling it back, she saw that it pulsated with the same light as the sword. The farther it got from the sword, the less light it emitted. She returned the amulet to her neck, watching as it lost all lustre. Taking another look around, she noticed a gate that led to a covered passageway. The town was in surprisingly good shape, given that a plague of demons was stalking the land. Cloud trotted over to the gate and gave it an experimental shove. It refused to budge, and she grimaced. Locked. Her gaze passed over the courtyard again. All the other exits were blocked by fallen rubble or were otherwise boarded up. The gate was her only way out. Unless… Unless there were no anti-air measures in place. Cloudkicker had heard that ever since the changeling invasion a few years ago, there were magickal sigils that would violently protect the castle and city from unauthorized fliers. A far-off roar made her ears prick up, and she looked into the cloudy sky. From above the clouds flew a great red firedrake. With a roar, the dragon slowed until it wrapped itself around the pinnacle of the Tower Noblesse. There were no flashes of magic, no runed sigils appearing in the sky to strike the intruder down. She realised, in that instant, that Canterlot had truly fallen. *** “The crystal ponies are a more ancient race than thou wouldst think,” the Caretaker began. “Long ago, before our age, demons roamed the world freely. When the alicorns came from across the ocean into Equestria, they fought the demons deep into the centre of this world. “There they sealed the demons, imprisoning the Queen of Vile and lulling the Allfather into the forever sleep. They were aided by the crystal ponies, who fled to this sanctuary and returned when they saw the battle against the demons turn in the alicorns’ favour. “It was then that the alicorns discovered that Equestria was tethered to this realm through five magickal anchors. They reasoned that the demons could return via these anchors, so they sealed the anchors with a greatly powerful spell. “But now the anchors have been corrupted by the demons. We know not how long it will be until Equestria is destroyed by the corruption. Thine task, whether thou accept it or not, is to slay the demons who corrupt the anchors of this land. “The Queen of Vile stands high atop Canterlot, corrupting the very chains of existence. Far away in the Crystal Kingdom, the Everlasting Demon slumbers. In the Tower of Silence is the corruption. Deep in the Stinkend Bog lies another demon. And finally, high up in the realm of Cloudsdale is the final demon.” Cloudsdale. Cloudkicker stiffened at that, heart skipping a beat. Maybe she could find out what happened to Alula! “How do I get there?” she asked. The Caretaker gestured towards the mural on the wall. The painting was of several different places, the only recognizable one being Canterlot. It seemed like smoke was rising from the city, even though Cloudkicker knew the painting could not move. “There are more of these, each as close to the anchor as the crystal ponies’ magic would allow. Thou must fight thine way through many demons to reach the anchor. But such a thing will not be hard for a slayer of demons such as thee.” Cloud swallowed hard. “Yeah. Not hard at all…” *** Blinking her eyes, Cloudkicker looked down from her perch on the broken wall. She swayed from side-to-side, footing uneven. The distance down to the ground wasn’t that bad. She’d definitely leapt from greater heights when she was a filly. With one final glance at the firedrake far in the distance, she leapt, extending her wings. Cloud must have caught a good crosswind, for she floated gently down to the ground, hooves clacking on the pavement. She winced, and looked around. Nothing seemed to be lurking in the ruins, waiting for her to land so it could devour her. Cloudkicker started towards what she remembered to be the town square. If she could reach it, she could find most anything in the town. *** The damage wrought on Canterlot by the hordes of Tartarus was great. The city she had once known and loved was nothing but a charred skeleton. She took a step forward, carefully navigating the broken cobblestone. Upon finding the ground solid, Cloud took another step forward and another. The wind blew, ruffling her mane and bringing the stench of fire and rot to her nose. The devils of Tartarus were not present in this area of the town, she had noticed. They were all higher up, by the castle for whatever reason. She had occasionally encountered the almost-mindless thralls of the demons, stumbling around blindly. These Cloud took care to avoid – she had learned long ago the shrieks of a thrall would bring terror down upon her. At times she would check her side to make sure the crystal was still hanging there. Seeing that it was, she would breathe a heavy sigh of relief and continue towards the town square. Soon, she came to a pit. It was an unnatural pit, and was as if a huge chunk of ground had been ripped up by a giant. The pegasus slowed in her walk and gingerly stepped over to investigate. “Hello?” a voice drifted over from the bottom of the pit. “Are you sane?” “I like to think I am,” Cloud said, voice rough from disuse. “Who’s down there?” “Oh thank Celestia!” The voice brightened distinctly from its original, terrified state. The tremble of fear was still there though. “It is I, the Great and Powerful Trixie! Those beasts locked me in a cage and threw me down here. I hate to think what will happen if they return.” “Me too,” the pegasus muttered. Louder, so that Trixie could hear, she added, “Trixie, hold on a moment. I’m gonna fly down there and see about breaking the lock.” Glancing around, Cloud saw a good size rock. Perfect for breaking things. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and bit down into it. Her teeth ground against the rough surface of the rock, but she managed to keep a grip on it. Cloud moved to the edge of the pit, leaning back on her haunches to propel herself into the air. The ground gave way under her, and she tumbled forward into the pit. The sword clattered out of her reach as she struck bottom. She hadn’t seen the crystal fly away though – maybe it was still there. Her head hurt fiercely, a fiery stab of pain with each breath she took. The rock she had taken was a few inches away. She grabbed it again, and slowly dragged herself to the cage. The cage was half-buried in the rubble, crusted over with rust. With a good amount of effort, Cloud managed to prop herself up on the cage. She slammed down on the lock with the stone, ignoring each fresh burst of pain in her skull. After what seemed an eternity, the lock snapped, and Trixie kicked open the door. The unicorn leapt out, tumbling into the pit just like Cloud had a few moments ago. Except unlike Cloud she had less of a fall ahead of her. Cloud hopped down from the cage, stumbling as she did so. “Is this yours?” Trixie asked, holding the sword in an aura of magic. “Trixie almost hurt herself on it.” “Yeah,” Cloud managed. She took the sword away from Trixie and sheathed it. Trixie looked around. “I will save us, never fear.” She sounded contemptuous and fearless, but Cloud knew better. She could hear the almost-paralyzing fear in Trixie’s voice, as hidden as it was. Trixie put a foreleg around Cloud’s neck, and lowered her head. Blue magic swirled around her horn, and Cloud found her head spinning again as a flash of light blinded her. Blinking, Cloud saw they were out of the pit, which was a few meters behind them now. “Trixie knows her magic well,” the unicorn said with a haughty flip of her mane. “Magic’s good and all, but what good is it right now?” Cloud looked around. The shadows were lengthening, which meant night was falling. At night the demons would likely return here to seek their dinner. It wouldn’t be a good idea to stay here. “We need to get out of here.” “I had heard…” Trixie shook her head. “No, that’s an old mare’s tale.” Cloud, checking herself for her crystal, looked up. “What is?” “Well, I had heard the crystal ponies in the north created some kind of… sanctuary, I suppose. Somewhere to escape this horrible place. Accessible only by a certain kind of crystal.” She looked away with a sad frown. “If only she were here… Twilight Sparkle would know better than me.” Finding the crystal, Cloud produced it. “A crystal like this?” Trixie’s gaze went over the crystal a few times. “Possibly… Trixie doesn’t know much about crystals but maybe.” Magic crackled around her horn and around the crystal. After a few moments, she spoke again. “Yes, Trixie feels an enchantment. Shall we?” Cloud put a foreleg around Trixie’s neck. “I don’t see another way,” she said. The magic around the crystal brightened– There was a great flash– And the two opened their eyes. Around them was a fancifully decorated hall, as clean as one could hope for. Their reflections stared back at them from the floor. They had made it to the Sanctuary. Trixie leapt for joy, shouting, “Trixie made it, Trixie made it!” Cloud shook her head, glancing over at the Caretaker, who was approaching the pair. “Thou art new,” she said, lifting her head to gaze upon Trixie. “We felt thine presence enter our realm. ’Tis a joy to see thou, a living being in this place of demise.” Trixie frowned and looked over at Cloud, who was now examining her reflection in the floor. “What does she mean?” “We’re dead.” Cloudkicker’s voice was cracking. “Everyone here but you is dead. We all died but for some damnable reason we’re still… alive. But not quite alive. I don’t understand it either. This nag,” she said pointing to the Caretaker, “wants me to fix everything! Me! I barely understand what’s going on and I’m supposed to save the world? I’m a regular pony.” The Caretaker shook her head. “Nay, the webs of fate are intertwined with thou. Such a thing I have not seen since the Elements of Harmony took up bearers. Thou art the one that shalt bring harmony once again to this land, whether thou desire such a thing or not. ’Tis destiny, pure and simple. Tell us, despite thine desperation, doth thou still desire on some level to aid us? To kill as many demons as possible?” There was a long silence. Then, very quietly, Cloudkicker spoke again. “Yes…” “’Tis destiny weaving her loom, driving thou to thine fate. Thou kickest against the goads, but thou art unable to break free from fate.” “So then what the heck do I do?” Cloudkicker spat. “Fight and die, and come back again, eternally?” “Yes,” was all the Caretaker said in response. She turned and walked away. *** The ruins of Canterlot beckoned Cloudkicker once again. Sighing, the pegasus took to the skies, scanning the ground below. Her guess was there was some sort of demon nearby that was powerful enough to interfere with the teleportation enchantment on the moving painting. Otherwise, she’d be straight to the Queen of Vile, whoever that was. She glanced up nervously at the Tower Noblesse, where the firedrake had perched to sleep. The dragon was gone now, and Cloud couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in her chest at that fact. Still, a dragon wasn’t the quietest of creatures and she felt she could elude it easily if it came to that. There was certainly enough rubble to hide under. Something whistled past her ear, and she felt a sharp pain in her right wing. The ground came spiraling up at her, and she let out a strangled yell. She struck the ground headfirst, tumbling onto her back. Groaning, Cloudkicker tried to pick herself up. Her head was spinning, and she felt like vomiting. Sharp pain was stabbing her brain, making it hard for her to see or even think. Warmth flooded her mouth and she opened the floodgates, allowing vomit to spew onto the ground and her hooves. There was a clattering from in front of her. Looking up unsteadily, Cloud saw a gaunt figure wielding a bow approaching her, notching an arrow with its wing. With a quick glance, she saw that a similar arrow had pierced her wing, making it useless. With her good wing, she flipped her sword out of its sheath and into her mouth. She managed to catch it hilt-first. I’m getting good at this. She rushed forward as quickly as her wobbly legs could carry her. Somehow Cloudkicker reached the other pegasus before he could draw his bowstring. She slashed at him, a spurt of blood splattering on her face. He toppled over with a gargle, and she felt that strange warmth, like something was being added to her on the inside. The warmth chased away the dizziness and pain, but it gave her a feeling of miserableness. Cloud felt like vomiting again. She tried in vain, dry heaving as she’d already purged herself moments before. A mad giggle reached her ears. Cloud whipped her head up, grabbing her sword and taking it into her mouth. To her surprise, a wizened crone of an earth pony stood on a pile of rubble, shroud covering her body. “So, you bear the curse of undeath,” she croaked. “Such a curious thing. Such a vile thing. You reap the souls of those more unfortunate than you, and for what? A moment’s respite? The power to continue? You must ask yourself if death is truly what you desire.” “Great, another riddle master,” Cloud muttered. Louder, she added, “Who are you to tell me what do to?” The old mare chuckled drily. “I am well aware of the curse of undeath, and what it does to those that are cursed. Perhaps I am cursed, or perhaps I knew one who was cursed. Whatever the matter is, you must know I am an… expert in many things. Hee hee hee!” Cloud scowled and started to turn away. “Unless you’re gonna tell me something useful, go away.” “I know that a demon is clouding the path to the anchor of Canterlot, deep within the castle. Not just one demon, no… Four demons. And then the path to every other anchor is infested with demons strong enough to obscure such a way. And even kill you.” She cackled again. “But what do I know? I am just a worthless mare, am I not?” Cloud looked back at the crone. “Okay, where is this first demon? Where do I go?” With another unnerving giggle, the old mare spoke again. “Travel to the foreign bazaar that lies on the path to the castle gates. Perhaps there you may encounter a butcher of ponies. Perhaps you may even defeat him. Such things are hard to foresee, and harder still to accomplish.” “What about these other demons?” The crone sighed. “One guards the castle of his Beloved, letting none pass. One mourns in the dungeon. The final defiles the throne deep within the castle. Of those past these city walls, I cannot say. They are hidden, past my sight. I suppose you will find out, one way or another.” Cloud looked away for one moment, thinking she had heard a sound in the ruined town. When her gaze returned to where the old mare had been, there was nothing. She frowned, and shook her head. The foreign bazaar, eh? Easy trek. Only a few minutes walk from here, if she wasn’t mistaken. She started on her journey to the bazaar, dread heavy on her mind. A butcher of ponies didn’t sound very pleasant. Hopefully I won’t be butchered by it… *** The bazaar should have been in sight. Instead of a clear sightline into the bazaar, the gate was covered in a swirling fog, which rose from the ground where it normally would lay thickly. Above the gate, everything was clear. Cloud would’ve flown over, but her wing… She winced as the wing twitched at the thought. She took a tentative step forward. Her hoof reached out and touched the swirling fog that covered the entry. Something pushed her hoof back. Frowning, she pushed harder. Her hoof soon found traction, slowly slipping into the fog. Cloud put her back into it, pushing with her entire body. She stepped through the fog, and as soon as her eyes met the sight before her, regretted it.
-The Butcher-Cloudkicker’s first reaction was one of terror. She was frozen in place, horrified. A demon easily that would have been four times her size had it not been for its hunchback stood there, swinging a gargantuan butcher’s knife at a bloody chunk of meat. She felt queasy when she started to think about the source of the meat, so she tried to force that thought down. Cloud let out a little squeal of terror, and the butcher demon snapped its head to look at her. The head was crocodilian, and bands of black leather bit deeply into the skin around its mouth, binding it shut. The hunchbacked crocodile-man took a lumbering step towards her, raising its cleaver. Cloud dashed forward, ducking beneath its legs as the knife slammed into the pavement. An uneasy growl emerged from the bound snout of the beast. It turned to face her, beady red eyes glowing with anger. Cloud strafed along the side, making sure to keep the demon’s front to her side. She swung her sword, biting deeply into the hilt. The blade tore into the creature’s hamstring, toppling it over. It landed hard, the butcher’s knife flipping upside-down and sticking to the monster’s chest. Cloud took this opportunity to dig the sword out of the thing’s heel, and she rushed for the head. Her swipe was eager and clumsy, and it missed most of the important bits. Instead, it cut into the binding keeping the demon’s mouth shut. With surprising speed, the butcher leapt up, torn tendon forgotten. With one claw, it ripped the other side of its mouth open. Its lower jaw split in two, each half filled with teeth. The jaws gnashed against each other, black blood splattering on the ground as teeth dug into its gums. Its other claw pulled the butcher knife free from its chest, causing more blood to spill. Cloud’s hooves started to slide on the blood-slick cobblestone, causing her to lose balance. She almost fell over, but managed to right herself before she could. The butcher took advantage of this, bringing the cleaver slamming down. It missed by a slim margin, barely shearing a bit of her tail hair off. Cloud slashed at the demon’s wrist, cutting into it deeply. The cleaver clattered to the ground and the butcher raised its arm, looking at the damage with a low hiss. Cloud fluttered her wings, wincing in pain. She managed to get some lift, and she slashed her sword again at the oozing wound on the demon’s chest. She must’ve struck something vital, for the butcher roared in pain, falling backwards. Landing hard on her hooves, Cloud ran towards the demon as it landed on its back. She hopped onto its chest, and brought her sword down upon the wound. The blade buried itself deep, almost to the hilt. When she ripped it out, the butcher’s body began to disintegrate. It was slow, melting into the same black ooze it bled. Cloud was stuck in it, until the ooze began to turn to ash and drift away on the winds. Where the creature’s heart would have been arose a crystal sword like the one where she had entered Canterlot. Mounted on the sword was a crystal that resembled the one at Cloud’s side. Gingerly, she took it into her hooves. It pulsated with a sickly green light and it felt rotten, if such a thing was possible. She leaned on the crystal sword, examining the sick green crystal. She was so enrapt in her prize that she failed to notice the soul crystal around her neck slowly floating over to the sword. When it struck the sword, a white light surrounded Cloud. “Woah! Hey!” she shouted, looking down to see her body slowly fade out of existence. When she opened her eyes, she was back in the Crystal Sanctuary. Blinking, she looked around. Cloud jumped when she saw the Caretaker standing so close to her. “Hopping Luna on a pogo stick! You scared the crap out of me.” The Caretaker didn’t respond to that. Instead, she waved her staff at Cloud. “Thou hast the soul crystal of the demon you hast slain. Such power thine shall inherit soon. Give us the soul crystal; we shall keep it safe for thou.” Cloud must have looked skeptical, for the hooded mare continued. “’Tis truth. We have no desire for the souls of demons, but we shall keep it safe until its power is ready to be made manifest.” With a sigh, Cloudkicker handed the crystal over. Enveloping the crystal in a shimmering, multicolored aura, the Caretaker slipped it into her robe. “Thankee-sai,” she said. “When the time comes, thou may have this returned to thee so thou may forge a weapon from the soul. But that time is far away.” She turned away and took a few steps forward before Cloud spoke. “Hey, I met a crazy old mare in the ruins. Who is she?” The Caretaker looked back over her shoulder. “In truth, we know not. Even though thou hast cleared the fog around Canterlot somewhat, we still cannot gaze into it for long for fear of alerting the Queen of Vile. ’Tis troubling to know a soul yet wanders the land, but we cannot save them either.” “You didn’t have any problem saving the rest of the people here,” Cloud said, stepping over to where the Caretaker was. She leaned in close, seeing the dim violet light of the pony’s eyes. “What’s the difference?” The Caretaker sighed. “’Tis quite the difference, child. For those who art here suffered and died only to be born anew. Canst thou not see the difference?” Cloud frowned. She didn’t but it was pointless to antagonize the Caretaker more. Instead, she just shook her head. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter to me, I guess.” There was silence for a moment, followed by the clacking of the Caretaker’s hooves on the marble floor. Cloud ended up wandering deep into the Sanctuary. She wasn’t paying attention to where she was going; she just wanted to get away from the Caretaker. Everything had changed and Cloud wasn’t entirely sure what her place was in this new world yet. The Caretaker certainly thought she knew what it was. Lost in thought, she bumped into a familiar pony. “Whoop! Sorry, Martelé.” The earth pony regarded Cloud with a dispassionate look. “It is no matter. I heard you touched the painting and were drawn into the world of the dead again.” Cloud shrugged, not entirely sure what the world of the dead was. “I went to Canterlot, if that’s what you mean.” Martelé sighed. “Canterlot, the world of the dead… Does it matter which they are? They are the same. The dead lurk there, seeking souls of the living, as do the demons. You know little of the new world.” “Yeah? And you know more?” “Go to the land of my home, Cime, the Crystal Empire. There you will find answers. Perhaps not the answers you desire, but answers none the less.” With a frown, Cloud tried to get the other mare to explain, but it was no use. She simply stared out at the endless sea and sighed deeply. “To swim, to drown…” she whispered. “To feel the bite of the wind again…”
