Lost Souls

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…”