Chapters Prologue
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Juniper,
I've gone searching for the colts, they've been out playing at Peak's Grove for a while now and forgot to come in for supper. We'll be back in time for the Celebration; your dinner is in the stove waiting for you. Much love.
Star
MISSING FOALS
WISPER WIND
TRIPLE SPARKS
LAST SEEN ON THE DAY OF THE SUMMER SUN CELEBRATION
CONTACT THE ROYAL GUARD STATION IN TROTTERDAM IMMEDIATELY IF FOUND OR IF INFORMATION TO THEIR WHEREABOUTS MAY BE PROVIDED
Posted Era VI, Year 1, Day 3 of Sun's Fire
Interview Transcript Location: RG Station 11, Detrot, Ungula Province, Equestria Interviewer: Cpl. Sunrise Storm Interviewee: Adeben, Suspected Zebra in Disappearance of Twin Fillies, Lunar Flower and Amethyst Rose Date: Era VI, Year 1, Day 25 of Sun's Fire
[Cpl. Storm walks into room, shuts door behind him and walks to stand across the table from Adeben; suspect is sitting in a metal chair, cuffed to a metal table]
Cpl. Storm: I've had it with your stoic bullshit, Adeben. We know you had something to do with all this- there's plenty of evidence to convict you and hall your ass off to the Shadow Lands and leave you to rot in your own feces and piss. But nothing we found helps us find where you took them. We've searched every conceivable nook, every cranny- all of your usual spots and the unusual we uncovered in your home. But, despite finding how . . . depraved you are, there still hasn't been and sign of the fillies. And yet-
Adeben: You seem to still think that 'am the one responsible for all the heartbreak and trouble caused by those fillies vanishing. But a've already told you: 'am not the one needing to be questioned, your subordinate Blitz is one the one needed in this chair. He framed me and you know it- you simply refuse to accept that fact!
[Cpl. Storm stomps over to the suspect and grabs his head]
Cpl. Storm: My partner has been the epitome of honor and valor since the first day I met him, you two bit son-of-a-bitch, and you poor excuse for a diversionary ploy is laughable at best. So, let me ask you one more time . . .
[Cpl. Storm slams the suspect's head against the table; picks it back up]
Cpl. Storm: What!
[Cpl. Storm repeats his previous action]
Cpl. Storm: Have!
[Cpl. Storm repeats his previous action once more]
Cpl. Storm: You!
[Cpl. Storm moves to repeat his previous actions; the door to the interrogation room is kicked open and others of the Royal Guard swarm in and take hold of Cpl. Storm. Cpl. Storm attempts resistance, but is overpowered and hauled from the room; the suspect's muzzle is slightly bloodied and bruised, but does not show any other signs of injury; suspect is treated by Royal Guard.]
Journal Entry 383
Era VI, 1st Century, Year 1, Day 27 of Sun's Fire PFC. Shimmering Dance Station 7, City of Hoofington, N. Province, Equestria
Three weeks. Three weeks we've been at this and there hasn't been any signs of the missing foals. No belongings, no prints of any kind, no bodies, not even a trace of their life essence. At least, that's what the unicorns say. I think that's what's driving them all up a wall and down into the nearby river. No matter how many times they comb the endless amounts of magical strings or lines or whatever the irritating mages call "the veins of the Realm" (I can't ever remember) they come back with the same depressing conclusion.
A few are obsessed with tapping into the magics around the city to try and find the little ones, especially Wild Strikes. The doc hasn't slept in four days, never budging from his spot on the roof most of that time, and none of us can get him to crack on telling us why. Sarg' had to threaten court-marshal for insubordination this morning after Strikes refused orders to get off the damn place. He's still awake though, doing the same thing in his tent; apparently the threat of putting himself into a coma isn't enough to stop him.
Personally, while I feel like I partially understand his need, I'm utterly dead and drained from all of this running around. I know its an atrocity that they're missing and I feel for the families, I really do, but when a thousand pony Guard battalion and the civilian population can't find hide or hair of them? It doesn't exactly do wonders to my moral or anybody else's. Besides, all this emphasis on magic is giving me the jitters, and father always taught me to listen to that feeling. Religiously. Saved him a time or two and I don't see why I should break that streak of survival.
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The archivist sighed as she rubbed her fatigued eyes, blinking furiously in an attempt to get some moisture back to them. The mare had been sifting through file after file for an absurd amount of hours now, doing her part in trying to gather together and record the necessary documents going into deep storage. Needless to say, it was quite the tedious, energy sucking assignment and was beginning to grate on her brain's capacity for both words and coffee.
Looking up from her desk, she saw most of her fellows beginning to pack up for the day and head home for some much needed sleep; the clock on the wall already read 6:35 a.m. and damn if they couldn't get out of here fast enough. The mare laughed quietly to herself, resolving to finishing logging away the papers in-front of her exhausted eyes before dragging herself home. Stretching her sore neck, the mare bent back over her work, recording every needed detail from the journal entry.
It was almost odd, to be looking at an entry so relatively new compared to what she normally logged for deep storage. Transcripts from two hundred year old meetings, original copies of laws dating a few centuries before the meetings, and other relatively mundane records were her normal crop to file. Sometimes she could just sit down and cry, wondering why she had kept this job for so long.
Then her thoughts would go back to those special days, though, the days when she filed the personal writings from ones who could have penned epics. Entries from times and lives gone by, when Civil War between the Royals split the land in two and shattered the once mighty Equestrian Empire's hold on the world. Ah, yes, those were the days she so looked forward to, pouring over the treasure trove of history that any common historian would give their right foreleg to read.
Alas, much to her dismay, those days only ever came once every few decades, and she had just had one last week.
The old mare sighed, the lines one her muzzle deepening just a little more, and the bags under her eyes feeling just a smidgen heavier. What a long life she had lived, unlike the young fellow from the journal entry layed before her. The mare's gaze fixated on the note another archivist had made when first receiving the original journal in whole. Apparently, the poor stallion had met his end up on the mountains of the northern border, in a skirmish with the Crystal Empire some years ago.
The mare sat in her chair for a moment or two, seeming lost in contemplative thought before she shook her head and finished her logging. Sufficiently done for the morning, she moved to gather her belongings when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning about, she found one of younger interns, a pretty little pegasus mare straight out of university named Silver Dust, nervously moving her hooves about and glancing between the old mare's face and everywhere else.
"Why, good morning Ms. Dust, is there something you needed? Maybe the rest of the coffee I left brewing on the pot? It's all yours if you're staying a might longer than the rest of us."
Silver Dust blushed slightly, replying quickly, "N-no, no, thank you very much though ma'am, that's kind of you. I was actually just wondering if you could help me out with . . . ah . . . the . . . filing system."
"I'm sorry dear, repeat that for me?"
The young mare turned redder and stammered over herself for a few seconds before exclaiming, "Oh, I can't remember where the different files go! And we've been up all night and I just want to go to sleep, but I need to make a good impression because I don't have any money and rents due next week and my boyfriend wants me to move in with him, but I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment, and he owns dogs, but I hate dogs and he loves them, but I still love him because not loving him because of animal preference is stupid and and and and ugh!!!"
The old mare couldn't help, but laugh at the frustration of the, only moments ago, timid mare. Young people certainly enjoyed getting to the point. Putting her front leg around Silver's neck, the old mare began leading her back towards the shelves of this underground place.
"Ha! Oh, come now child, no need to be ashamed of such a question- I've been head of the Archives for forty-five years and I spent twenty-five of those remembering where all the literal tons of parchment go in this place. And as for the rest of your spiel, why don't you come back to my home after we put these away and I can make you some hot tea and we can both pass out from exhaustion and just forget about life for a while. That sound good to you?"
Silver Dust took in a long breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly, smiling gratefully as she did.
"Thank you ma'am, I would really appreciate that."
The old mare smiled, and stopped to look where they were; they had made it to the middle shelves of the regular archives. More than a few rows past them was the vault to deep storage. None were around.
"Good because it's high time we both earned some relaxation, eh? Now then, where are you needing the files? I assume you left them over at your desk?"
"Oh! The files. Right. Heh, I'll just be right back and then we can be on our way!"
The old mare smiled as Silver Dust turned away, only to turn back with a puzzled expression.
"Uh, ma'am, I actually just remembered why I came over in the first place- I was going to let you know . . . you have something right . . . here."
The old mare froze as Silver tapped her between the eyes and then, in rapid succession, in the center of her chest and pressure points of the neck, saying, "The Lunar winds call to you, Mother Memory; awaken, that you may fulfill your Oath."
Silver Dust was met with silence as the old mare in front of her swayed for but a moment before she bowed upon her forelegs, the tip of her horn touching the floor, and asked, "What would the Princess have of me, yunkiin ?"
Silver bristled slightly at the title, but let it slide over her as she commanded, "Burn the files you and the others were handling this morning and all last night. Not a single document is to be left; her majesty, Vulonro Rel , felt it prudent to dispose of everything pertaining to the event. If more than those files are burned or even the entirety of the archives go as collateral damage to cover your tracks, so be it. Now move."
The old mare rose from her kneeling position and nodded once, turning around to head back through the rows of seemingly endless shelves. Silver Dust watched after for a few seconds before walking after her. By the time she had made it back to her desk, the last pony was heading up the flight of stairs to the pulley-system that'd take him to the ground floor of the administration building above.
Taking one last look, Silver Dust gathered what few belongings she had, as well as a few choice documents, and headed for the pulley-system. Behind her, she heard the old mare shifting different filing binders, boxes, and loose pieces of parchment on and around her desk; as Silver Dust made it to the stairs, she glanced back to find the old mare sparking a flame from her horn.
She thought to call after the old mare, but only stood still and shook her head, walking the rest of the way to the pulley-system and getting in, pulling the lever to take her to the surface.
Below, at her desk, the old mare stood and blankly stared at the fire quickly spreading along the parchment and wood. Letting her gaze wander, she noticed the nearby wall calendar hadn't been changed from last night. Absentmindedly, she moved over to correct that; today was Era VI, 1st Century, Year 17, Day 10 of Rain's End. The old mare looked at the clock on the wall; it was 6:55 a.m.
By 8:15 a.m. on the dot, the entirety of the underground cavern was in roaring flames, except for the deep storage vault.
What a pity the Princess wanted so much history wasted , thought the old mare as she burned.
Author's Note
RG: Royal Guard
Chapter 1
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Astral Shadow, staring at the scene before him, briefly wondered how it felt to be decapitated.
It was such an odd thought, but not one that had never crossed his mind. The few times he and the others had witnessed an execution of one of their own, he always wondered. Would he feel the toughened skin of his neck split? The ripping of muscle and sinew, the sounds that accompanied his demise- would he perceive them? Or would the world simply go black in an instant, leaving his soul to drift out towards the Cosmic Breeze and be forever lost in the great Void of Night?
Astral blinked.
These troublesome thoughts never led to anything productive, only served to distract him from what was going on. Focusing back to the execution, he watched the proceedings with neutrality. He and twenty nine other yunkiin were set in a semi-circle around the blood stained chopping block of the Order's main training cavern. The cavern was lit with a mix of torches and stalactites that glowed when infused with magic. Astral remembered a time when over two hundred had filled this place.
At the chopping block was a pegasus mare, bound, gagged and more then a little beaten. On either side of her were In , Masters of the Order. Both wore ceremonial cloaks, with hoods left down, and were armed with simple short swords; a look akin to boredom seemed to be permanently etched onto their muzzles.
The Master on the left, also a mare, stepped forward and spoke, not with a shout, but with a voice one would associate with a lecturing school marm.
"Newborns, take heed this day. One slip, one stray step from the path of loyalty and perfection we have taught you, can have consequences that could destabilize the world if severe enough. Your fellow yunkiin beside me failed to see that evidence of our existence was completely erased from the Royal Archives, an order given by our gracious Princess, Vulonro Rel . As a result, we and our task of service were nearly brought to light. Had that happened, this Order would have been disavowed by our divine Princess, hunted down, and slaughtered to the last."
The Master looked down at the mare, "The balance we help preserve would be utterly wasted had your hubris been discovered."
The mare on the chopping block silently stared at the ground.
Looking back up and at the group around her, the Master drew her sword and proclaimed, "For this crime, and the potential consequences thereafter, I hereby strike your name from our Order and sentence you to be dismembered and hacked until dead."
Astral Shadow, somewhat surprised at the lack of head rolling, saw the bound mare's eyes widen but said not a word. She instead bit through her lip as one of her wings was unbound and slowly hacked from her body. Next was the other wing, then came the tail and the fetlocks of her front and back legs. Eventually, she had begun whimpering as tears fell from her eyes and blood oozed from her wounds, gathering in a rapidly forming pool beneath her.
As he watched, Astral could not help but let his mind wander back to the earlier thought of decapitation, and idly thought of where she would go after she had slipped from this world. She was not a unicorn so would not be permitted into Elysium and she had not actually done anything so wicked as to be sent to Tartarus. By all rights, she would be sent adrift in the Void of Night, having lived a relatively short, morally grey life of servitude.
Could there be more? he thought as the mare's first shriek echoed through the cavern. The Master had begun slowly hacking away at the condemned mare's body, every rip of skin and squelch of fluid crystal clear in the nearly silent cavern.
Pondering on his thoughts of life after death, Astral tuned out the cries of pain and resolved to study the Command more closely; he would never be able to serve his Princess with all he had unless he was absolutely certain of her truth.
Astral blinked; the screaming had turned to gurgling. Soon, the gurgling would turn to silence and he might return to his studies.
Chapter 2
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The sight and sounds of torturous death behind him, Astral Shadow found himself confined to his spartan room for evening meditations. Much like himself, the room was small, with only the basics of comforts to fill the stony space. A bed was set along the right wall, with an end table near the headboard, and a desk pushed against the back wall; along the left, a metal sink and toilet, with a mirror above the sink. A group of magic-infused stalagmites, forming under the ventilation opening of the ceiling in the left corner, provided decent enough lighting for reading and writing.
It was by this light that Astral wrote in his journal at the desk, logging the day's events away for his own records. Even after years of this repetitive tradition, his meticulous need to remember everything happening never faltered. His rather pious thoughts from earlier still poked at his brain however, prompting him to pull away from his logging and retrieve a plain, well-used book from the trunk at the end of his bed. The book was leather, with the words Fin Rah Uth etched in bold across the top of the cover.
This was why he served, the edict of his life and all that governed his very existence.
Settling himself back at his desk, Astral opened his only prized possession and turned to the near-end of the ancient work. The script, hoof-written by the nuns of the alpine Unicorn Range, was both painstakingly precise and beautifully illustrated, with not a stray mark marring the many pages. Not even ear-marks were made, as such a deliberate disfigurement would be borderline sacrilege, and would certainly court misfortune.
Reminding himself of this fact, Astral was careful as he turned each page individually, looking over the myriad of topics covered; death and conduct being chief among them. He stopped on a few key sections, alternating between reading and jotting notes in his journal. In doing so, he sunk deeper and deeper into the literature, finding himself in a place of slight elation. His original intent of searching for more insightful answers to the finer points of death had been lost among the many other thoughts of reassurance flooding his mind as he read.
Having been lulled almost to sleep by the warm, comforting thoughts suddenly pervading his mind, Astral shut both the religious text and his journal, blowing out the candle and heading to bed.
"No matter one's lot, it is better to do good and strive for perfection in all walks of life than to rebel and stray from the righteous path laid by the Line that rules us. For by these blameless acts, those who rule us now and who came before see the purity of our intentions and reward insurmountable blessings upon us in this life. And to those unto who the heavenly have chosen and granted the privilege and power of Unicorndum, They have granted the chance to secure a place in Their glorious land of Elysium, so long as those blessed with Unicorndum walk in the ways of righteousness.
But, to those who stray and choose to scorn the heavenly promises and blessings offered, the Pit of Tartarus awaits them in all its grotesque and horrifying splendor. If such a place was not kept separate from us by our Divine Guardians Who Rule, the very earth beneath our hooves would split and the world would be melted as iron in a flaming forge. The inexplicable punishments awaiting those who travel to Tartarus rank as a fate worse then this, tenfold.
And to those who choose neither of these paths, either to walk in the favor of the Divine or to fall prey to Their exalted judgment, a limbo of isolation awaits. As a boat set upon the open sea for all eternity, so is the one who is set upon the course of never ending emptiness; this void of ceaseless drifting awaits those who do not make a choice. Take heed, for this may be a fate far worse than the pain of Tartarus."
-Fin Rah Uth , pg. 150, lines 50-59
Chapter 3
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A group of young stallions and mares were gathered in what looked to be the remains of a feast hall, the roof having long been blown away and the stone walls in shambles. Each one was clothed in light, leather armor, with a knife sheathed within easy reach at their side. They were gathered around a unicorn mare in a black colored cuirasse, watching her like a murder of crows.
The mare, looking around at her charges, pointed at one and stated, "Newborn, look this way and tell me what you see."
The singled-out earthpony stepped away from his brothers and sisters and looked towards the deteriorating statue of Princess Celestia they were examining. He contemplated the Master's question and answered, "I see the sibling of Vulonro Rel , a leader of great power, even if this likeness does not reflect that."
The Master's mouth quirked down slightly.
"Too general of an answer, I want more of your thoughts, not what's been drilled into your skull."
Astral Shadow did not look away from the statue, but stayed silent, choosing his next statement carefully.
"Apologies, I'm in no place to speak of our Princess' Sister in any manner aside from what I've already stated. Were I in a position of greater power, I would still hold my tongue, as is proper."
The Master's frown leveled back to neutrality, and she nodded her head.
"Very good, you live to serve with your life and body, not with your opinions. Let us continue."
Eye lids slowly blinked themselves open as a steady knocking hooked Astral's waking mind, dragging it back to reality and anchoring it there like a tick. His fading dreams flitted away as swiftly as a will-o'-the-wisp, and left him grasping at the airy trail it left, wondering why they treated him so.
Taking a deep breath, Astral rose from his bed and walked to the door of his room, the cold stone beneath chilling to the touch.
Wondering who would need him during his morning of rest, Astral opened the door to find a pegasus mare waiting for him. The mare was dressed in a simple midnight blue cloak with the hood left down, revealing a somewhat attractive mane and coat beneath; on her forehead, a small medallion of a bat's eye. A silver clasp in the shape of a crescent moon held the cloak together, identifying the mare as a Knight of the Order.
Eyeing the clasp, Astral gave a half-bow and said, "May the Night grace you always Kendaar ; what brings you here this morning?"
Bowing her head in return, the Knight replied, "And may the Night grace you as well. You are hereby commanded to appear before the Assembly of Masters immediately, under pain of death if refused. You will adorn yourself in ceremonial attire, then proceed to the chambers."
Astral bowed once more and moved swiftly back into his room, shutting the door behind him. He quickly went to the chest at the end of his bed and collected his clothing, donning a midnight blue tunic and robe, as well as fore and back leg guards similarly colored and spit shined to perfection. Checking himself over, the earthpony made his way back out to the Knight, shutting the door behind him and pulling up his hood.
The mare scrutinized him for a moment before pulling her own hood up and, turning, began walking down the stone hallway with Astral following after her. Together, the two silently made their way through the many tunnels and caverns beneath the ruined Castle of the Two Sisters, the echo of hooves the only sound. They met few of their brothers and sisters as they walked, as morning meditation and rest was still being enforced for another hour.
As he walked, Astral neither questioned the Knight nor thought about why he had been summoned; it was not his place to do so. He had learned when he was a colt that to ask the question, "why?" was to bring disaster upon himself. Disloyalty was suspected, treason even, as it was unthinkable to be a sworn servant of Princess Luna, to kill and be killed for her, and ask the simple question "why?".
So Astral Shadow simply refrained from doing so.
Eventually, the two ponies made it to a set of large double doors guarded by a contingent of four Knights. The doors themselves were engraved with half moons, the halves meeting in the middle at the seam of the doors. The Knights on guard let their eyes roam over Astral and his escort briefly then turned to open the double doors, giving neither a second thought. Crossing the threshold, the two ponies slowly walked to the center of the room, the doors behind them shutting with a slam.
The room was a small cavern, lit by torches lining the walls, and inhabited by the eleven Grand Masters of Faal Vulonro Nahlot , The Night's Silence. They all sat in simple wooden, high-back chairs in a semi-circle in the center of the room, each dressed in their ceremonial regalia not unlike Astral's. Their tunics were hidden by the black robes they wore, held together by a crescent moon clasp of diamond and with their hoods pulled back; on their foreheads, a small medallion of a bat's eye.
The faces revealed were creased with age and wisdom, but not decrepitness; only a fool would consider these eleven nothing more then old crones yapping their jaws.
Keeping her head low and eyes to the ground, the Knight stepped forward and proclaimed, "Here be Astral Shadow, the yunkiin that was commanded to appear; see that I have completed my task according to the orders given unto me."
There was an aching silence, then the mare on the left end of the circle stated, "We hear and see that you have done as commanded, leave us now and speak of this to none."
The Knight bowed low to the ground, making sure to keep her hood up and her head down, before quickly exiting the cavern with a slam of the doors. Now alone, Astral waited to be called forward, as was proper for such formalities.
"Newborn, come forward."
Astral obeyed immediately, coming to stand where the Knight had only moments prior; he made sure to similarly keep his head low and eyes down. He said not a word, but continued to wait patiently; he did not have to wait long.
A mare's voice addressed him from somewhere to his right, "We've called you before us today to be assigned."
Another mare's voice from the left, "Though you may appear to be mediocre compared to others of your age in our Order, you seem to have caught the attention of a Master searching for an apprentice."
A stallion's voice from in front of him, "She has shown her aptitude for changing ponies into capable warriors acceptable for our Princess, so we are confident that you'll be no different from the rest of her pupils when she's through."
Silence. Then, wing-beats as a pegasis landed right in front of Astral; a small gust of wind sent his was ruffled his robes.
"I am Swift Rain; get up and raise your eyes to me, I wish to see you for who you are."
The voice was stern, but not unkindly so, tempered by a strange softness.
Astral slowly rose from his bow and lifted his head to meet his new Master eye-to-eye; she was a lunar mare and a surprisingly young one at that. Her hood was down, showing off her silver mane and grey coat, as well as the medallion on her forehead; a gold clasp held her cloak together. Leathery wings, protruding from openings in the cloak, were splayed out in a show of dominance. Her head was held high and her mouth was set in a barely noticeable grin, a pair of fangs peaking out from beneath her lips. Her slit eyes bore into his own with the intensity of a roaring fire.
Astral returned the gaze with one of neutrality, focusing his thoughts on the sound of his own breathing; to move or take his eyes away would be a grave insult to the Master. A full minute and a half passed before Swift Rain nodded her head, folding her wings back to her side, and went to stand at Astral's side.
Facing the Assembly, she stated, "I accept this yunkiin as my own; if you will permit, I will take him to perform the Rite of Searin'."
A stallion replied, "Go then and speak of this to none."
Pulling her hood up, Swift Rain bowed low then turned to leave the room; Astral quickly followed suit and hurried after his Master, the great doors slamming shut behind them. The pair made their way through many passages, slowly but surely heading towards the surface. They emerged from a wall inside the ruined Castle of the Two Sisters, hidden by rubble and overgrown vegetation. Swift Rain did not stop there, however, but led her student out of the ruins and into the bowels of the Everfree Forest.
It was just after dawn and the sun had been raised to it's quarter mark in the sky, it's rays barely able to peak through the dense foliage above.
They continued to walk for some time till they came upon a stool in the middle of a clearing of scorched earth. Going to stand in front of the stool, Swift Rain pulled her hood back and looked around the clearing, as if to ponder what to do next. Astral stopped behind her, taking a moment to survey his surroundings, trying to note anything out of the ordinary and anything he could use to his advantage should the need arise.
A few minutes passed, then Swift Rain turned sharply around and bolted to Astral, tackling him to the ground and latching her jaws around her student's throat. Astral, cursing himself, desperately got his legs underneath her and managed to throw her off him; blood trickled down his neck from prominent puncture points on his neck. Landing a foot away, Swift Rain grinned deviously, running her tongue over the tips of her teeth. Walking slowly back to her student, she noticed Astral tense and fall back into a combat stance, waiting for an attack.
Instead of pouncing him again, she went nose to nose with him, daring her student to retaliate and challenge her assertion of natural dominance.
"Your reflexes need work; remember, hesitation isn't a crutch to fall back on when startled; it's an enemy to be murdered brutally, as brutally as I would've ripped your throat out just now. If you're goin' to serve faithfully and well, and be somethin' other than a walkin' corpse waitin' to be buried, you'll need to start expectin' everyone and everythin' to kill you at a moments notice. Includin' me."
Swift Rain continued to grin, drops of blood shining on her fangs, and pulled away from Astral, snorting in his face. The young stallion wrinkled his muzzle, cursing himself again for relaxing around his new Master, a lunar pegasis no less. It would not bode well at all to fail too many times while being taught by of one of his Princess' Chosen Folk; death would be the only appropriate response, by his own voluntary hoof or her's unseen. Taking a breath, Astral refocused his attention on his Master, a new sense of paranoia taking hold of him.
Seeing her student had learned his first lesson, Swift Rain reached into her cloak and pulled out a white pendant. Keeping her eyes on Astral, she clasped it around her neck, and noticeably relaxed; that grin of her's did not vanish though.
"We'll drop the formalities for now," she said, "I like to steer clear of the ancient traditions and such when I take a new student. I've brought you here for many reasons, most of them personal to be quite frank; we'll leave those for later though. For now, I want you to balance on that stool with a front hoof."
His composure back under control and paranoia shot to new heights, Astral cocked his head and, noting the subtle change in speech, went to the stool and did as instructed. He briefly wondered about this odd mare, her odd tendencies, and whether he wanted to know what made her so odd, what made her tick.
He quickly decided that, no, no he did not want to understand what made the mare so stimulating.
As he balanced, his Master slowly circled him, the devious grin still on her face, her tongue darting out every so often to lick her lips. Astral, for his part, remained perfectly still, finding the experience strangely uncomfortable and fascinating. The glint in Swift Rain's eyes was anything but sexual, yet the hunger that it reflected from the depths of her soul was intoxicating. Astral was becoming more than a tad confused as she circled, feeling as if she were drinking in all of the power she now had over him.
After a while, she switched directions and began asking questions as she went. "Tell me apprentice, who authored Fin Rah Uth ?"
He answered them as he had been taught to do for many years, "The sacred text was penned by Star Swirl the Bearded, First Priest of the Cosmos and Steward of the Throne before The Benevolent Sisters ascended to rulership. It is referred to in common speak as 'The god Command'."
"And why was it written?"
"Their Majesties, the Princesses, deigned in their wise judgment to have mercy upon the ponies of Equestria and spoke ancient truths to Star Swirl, who recorded them in the sacred text. They saw the sufferings of the righteous, the contempt of the wicked, and the shameful way that Unicorns were treated as equals, and so were moved to set things right, as many Alicorns before them had not done."
"And how is it that we know this?"
"These revelations are recorded in Fin Rah Uth , as are the rest of the truths that the Princesses spoke; the national histories also reflect these truths, as they were first penned by Star Swirl the Steward, then by the nuns of the Unicorn Range Monasteries."
"Hmm."
His master was silent for a few moments after that, coming to stop in front of Astral, who was still balanced upon his hoof; it was about mid-day. Swift Rain's devious grin had slipped away as time went one, settling into a relaxed state, but that glint- that dangerously hungry glint- had not yet fled her eyes.
Standing in front of him, she caught his gaze and asked, "You seem well educated in at least the basics of our faith, but have you studied enough to know the Rite of Searing?"
He slowly shook his head, feeling somewhat confused at the fuzziness in his memory.
"Interesting." She paused, then, "Have you noticed the scorched earth? How controlled it is? How the edges never touch the rest of this dismal forest?"
Astral nodded, he had spent much of his time on the stool looking around the clearing.
"Fire did not cause this blot, fire is too wild and unpredictable, even in the horns of the most skilled mages. No, this was caused by the Rite, and the joiner. You see, apprentice, every member of our Order who has gone on to serve our Princess has had to first master the unrefined power of the soul. The medallion you see on my forehead? This is the focal point for the Rite, what you will attempt to bond with."
Swift Rain went to reach a hoof up to touch her forehead, but caught herself and shook her head, stating, "Sit on the stool". Astral did so, and she continued, pulling out another medallion from her cloak, "This will be yours; if you can control yourself and the power the Rite will bring, I'll teach you all I know. I don't need explain the consequences for failure."
She held the medallion out to Astral and he took it, slightly confused and apprehensive at the lack of clear direction.
"Master, what exactly am I suppose to control?"
She breezed by his question, walking towards the edge of the clearing and calling back, "When you're ready to begin, hold it to your forehead, the medallion'll do the rest for you. I'll be at the edge of the clearing, making sure you don't destroy this place."
Astral looked down at the medallion on his hoof, feeling a sudden chill come over the metal; he looked back up and found his Master already at the edge of the burned clearing, waiting expectantly for her student to begin. His eyes slid back down to the medallion, and he took a deep breath, smashing the sliver of fear trying to whisper in his ears to nothingness.
Raising his hoof, Astral placed the medallion against his forehead and waited.
Chapter 4
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A wh isp er.
A whisper to the right, to the left, from inside and out. All around, a voice whispers on the wind.
A stabbing in his eyes, silence on his part. The cold of the medallion intensifying.
Another joins the first, whispering to him, whispering of something he cannot understand. A third and forth join the first two.
His hoof is forced away from his head; the medallion, cold as frost, digs into his coat and skin. A grunt of annoyance.
More have joined, speaking to him, of him, through him. He cannot understand.
His muscles tense and then still; he tries to move but remains rooted. The medallion burns his forehead with it's frigid intensity.
Still they whisper, a sweet symphony of nothing that holds the weight of his existence a fraction from the earth by a spider's thread.
The freezing chill seeps into the rest of his face, running down to the bone and coursing through his skull; his eyes freeze shut.
A rhythmic melody lightly presents itself among the whispers, bringing a sense of order the odd chaos of prophecy and deceit.
His heartbeat slows as the cold sweeps through him, bringing calm and a serene sense of peace. The world around him vanishes.
A tint of blue, rising, falling, and weaving in rhythm with the melody of certainty, appears before his mind's eye. It seems to peak out from whence it came, timidly cautious about revealing itself.
The melody continues and the tint slowly emerges, moving in time with the melody, becoming brighter as the moments pass.
It comes near to him, in the shape of a tall, lithe unicorn and places it's horn to him. The melody increases, becoming crystalline in purity and silky soft to the soul. The bright blue unicorn pulses with the melody and, each time it does, he feels a fire ignite in his gut.
His body, encased in a layer of ice, steams slightly.
He is at peace. He should never leave. Never forsake this entity of loveliness, that fills him with such a flame.
Steam rises from his body at a regular rate.
He feels a chasm open beneath him and the sound of a great river rushing is faintly heard.
Steam pours off his body, the ice rapidly melting.
The entity carries him down towards the river, serenading him with its wonder and magnificence; once he dips in the river, he shall be whole- he stops.
The melody ceases.
The whispers are unheard.
The entity has stopped pulsing.
It holds him in it's grasp, it's horn still against him.
The steaming suddenly stops. Quiet falls over the whole of the clearing.
He looks at the entity, the suffocating burn of fear grasping at his heart as the serenity is choked from him. The entity looks at him, uncaring of his fear, comes closer, and utters a simple phrase.
"Purity does not tolerate Madness."
His body burst into searing flames that roared like a demon of Tartarus; his screams that of the damned. His ears gushed acid-like blood and his eyes seemed to boil in their sockets, starting to lose their form and slip out of his skull. His skin began to melt; his tunic, robes, and coat turning to ash and mixing with the mass of organic horror. His fore and backleg grieves, melting with his skin, seeped down and seared themselves to his bones.
The scorched clearing around him caught the horrific disease of flames, further scarring the earth as they raced towards the edge of the treeline. Coming up just short of it, they doubled back, coming back to him and intensifying the heat a hundred fold. His screams were cut off as his vocal cords were shredded and his throat collapsed in on itself from lack of structure.
Cutting through the chaos, the medallion, still anchored to his skull, flashed. A white energy burst forth, coating him in a cooling balm that felt like the warm water of a spring. The energy raced through him, rebuking the cursed flames and extinguishing them, blessing his tortured body, giving it structure once more. It solidified and bound his body, keeping it from melting away; though it could not rearrange and repair all of the damage done.
His mind, as deteriorated and raw as his body, slipped away and found solace in the blankness of unconsciousness, even as Death waited anxiously for his soul. Astral would survive, however, and be of some use to the Order; even if the most likely use was cannon fodder.
"It is a divine sign of ascendancy and servant-hood; that by bonding with this blessed artifact, a pony shows that the Holy Rulers have chosen them as Their servants, granting them the privilege to transcend the bonds of morality that would bind and curse them to the depths of Tartarus or the oblivion of the Void, and guaranteeing them a place at the feet of Their thrones in Elysium.
In freeing, however, The Exalted Ones demand absolute service, the very life They have freed do with as They wish. This is both the paramount blessing and grievest of burdens that will test the limits of any who are truly faithful, for all who wish to proclaim they to be chosen must take heed. For if they have not been, they will be obliterated from this world, in body, mind, soul, and memory, as if they had never walked the dust of the earth. None shall claim falsely the blessings of The Divine."
Fin Rah Uth , pg.174, lines 70-77
Author's Note
Just as a general comment: if there is an editor who reads this and finds anything that could be refined, fleshed out, replaced, redone etc., please don't hesitate to say so.
Execute Thy Willby That Hooded Fella
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A Chorus sings to the heavens,
Oh, Summer Sun of Celestia, in the sky so shining bright and brilliant, how you have illuminated our eyes to see past the things of the present.
Oh, Autumn Moon of Luna, watching over the land in night, how you remind us not all that has been, is of the day and of the light.
Heavens above, reveal to us as before, when all was right in this land, when fair Cadence of Love was still among us, when Shining the Valiant was living at her side!
Make known to us once more, the peace and prosperity of times not so long ago, when harmony was over the whole of the world.
A lull in the song; the Chorus breaths and pleads,
Show us the terrors of spirits, that drive even the most Loving to madness as deep as the pit of Tartarus and shows the depravity of when souls shatter!
Tell us of the blood spilled for this land that we may learn the atrocities of war, that we may not forget what she wrought, what the Mad Empress of Crystal taught us!
Remind us of the day of retribution, that glorious day of satisfaction, when the helper of our plight comes and they who sought to sow discord be smote.
Drive the obedient servant towards his goal to right the wrongs that have been committed, make haste the steps he takes to destiny that vengeance be quick in coming!
Help him and the companions given, to stand strong in the face of the darkness of the darkness around and within, so they may stand in victory for those of us left!
The sound of roaring flames overtakes them; they voice their last, ringing request,
Heavens above, teach us as before that we may learn from the past, be present in this day of reckoning, and seek shelter in this tide of Change!
