Master

by OnyxElite

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Tragedy, Dark
Length: 11821

Iron bars will prove themselves to be the only curse as Spike ventures into a soulless Equestria

[size=0.75em]You are lost, aren't you?[/size]

Modern Day Equestria has fallen apart. Unicorns' magic is taken away or greatly reduced, Pegsi can't fly, Earth Ponies lost their strength. What's left of the population are dead, bandits, or apart of Warlord led tribes. The story takes place 14 years after Val (Downfall in Dutch)

The former Heroes of Equestria fates' have been left to rot in the mercy of others. Spike The Faithful leads a band of ponies and members of other species. His new family, Ruoia and their three hatchlings, all guide the lost. Still, his thoughts are plagued by lost dreams, forgotten hopes and family. He knows the cost of living life as an outcast, and he can never change what he's become. Spike's bevy resides in most of the Frozen North. His unshakable and powerful faith earns him the title of The Faithful.

Twilight roams the dangerous countryside, desperately trying to gather ponies to assist the creation of New Canterlot. Her allegiance, The Alt, still sides with the cowering Princesses. She travels in search of new recruits and good farming ground. The Princesses's new city's location is only know by her. She is escorted by one of the few Royal Guardsponies.

The daughters of the king turtle, Celestia herself grows weaker every day. Her mobility already is restricted to only a table on wheels. What remains of the royal guard valiantly defend the two downed Princesses. Luna handles almost everything, while the other sister simply must rest. The time of the Solar Eclipse is on them, and many doubt the strength of Celestia.
This is just me flying ideas at the wall.

So, what do you think? I kind of based it off AMC's Revolution, and I know Fields of ice did it and failed. I shall carry his word again!

Art by the talented Adrian Dadich "Dead Hero"
Assisted by Blood Brandy
Partially inspired by Fields of Ice

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-07 17:55:20 UTC

Chapter of Stray

In the beginning, there was Predator. But Predator was lonely, so it created a rock the size of it's hand.  And Predator grew a feeling of peace when it was brought into existence. Then, as it gazed across its barren surface. Predator felt empty. So, it spat out a tooth and it became Prey. Prey was much, much smaller than Predator. Small and weak. So Predator left it's new creation on the barren rock

Prey was quick, it could go faster than Predator. Predator was stronger and bigger. The two lived with each other until Prey felt it was too cold, thus Predator belched out the Sun. The Sun was warm and generous, and the Sun became the first female in existence. She was sometimes very hot and burned the surface, and sometimes was cool and relaxed the small body of Prey,

Predator and Prey liked to play games together. Prey would run, and Predator would find Prey. Prey would run so fast and so long, but could never hide. To improve the game, Sun grew grass and trees with her thought. Giving them energy, they became huge and rolled over the surface. Turning the once life-less rock into the most living thing. Prey also thanked Sun by eating her grass and gaining its power. Soon, Prey made more of itself. Honoring Sun once more, Prey made female versions of it. Henceforth, Prey evolved into the first male.

Predator didn't like how purposeless they both were, so it gifted them the power to create each other. But, after much time of peace, Sun said they were eating too much of her children. Predator saw it too, so Predator made a new rule in his game. Once Predator found Prey, Predator would eat them.

After Sun rotated around the rock many times, she decided their game was unfair. That Predator was too strong. With good intentions, Sun made Hunter, The stronger one to hunt both Prey and Predator. And, their days continued on.

"Then what happened?" Asked the innocent child to the storyteller as he was tucked into the warm bed.  The word-speaker merely chuckled and brought up the woolen shield up higher to better fend the coolness night around them.

"You joke, Caahen? You've heard the story many times before." Spoke the father, to which the son merely pleaded once more for the story of Craton to continue. Craton meaning creation, great. Reluctantly, the speaker finally continued.

Hunter was strong and fast. He, alone, could wish away the Predator's presence. Predator didn't feel like it was a fair game, so it created twelve more of itself. Each one taking different forms, one of which was Jager-Jager. The Aged God.  Hunter was outnumbered, so he, like the others, created additional forms of himself. Few were made, the most powerful incarnation was Draak, The First Fire Tempest. Together, they all played. Expect The Sun. Far above the thriving game, starting to feel quite isolated without a friend of her size.

She came up with a solution, simply make another her. All the others did, she can too. With silence, Sun created Moon. He was the opposite of her  Cold and life-less. His domain was on the other side of the rock, with the two rarely coming in contact. This was enough for Sun and Moon, and all lived.

By the time the tale ended, Caahen the son was asleep. Safe in the shelter and warm in the bed, the young dragon would surely sleep though the entire night. The father rose from his chair beside the bed and quietly stalked out the room and into the main hallway. It was in the beginning of night, and the hallway held no sound. The beautiful and exotic rug beneath felt almost alien to him.

The father moved down the way on all fours, as he was wont to do due to his height and weight. It also made moving much less noisy. Creatures slept around him. Gracefully and silent, he traversed the hallway and reached the last door. His door. Softly, he pushed them open with his head.

The warm, familiar scent invaded his nostrils immediately. The room was dark. Even his eyes couldn't pierce the blackness. But he knew who could, and she was probably watching him. Toying with him as she liked to do. Only this one could do this to him, not that he had any say in it. Gently, he heard her sweet voice.

"Ohhh, Avinnn

My champion has returned"

The door closed behind him, shutting out all light. He soon felt her smooth fingers brush against the back of his neck, causing him to flinch. The father didn't even hear her feet hit the ground. Immediately after the digits abandoned his scruff, he felt something attach itself to it. An deep inhale of his odor was heard and he felt something get on top of his back.

"R-Ruo,," The father tried to talk, but she silenced him with a mere peck on his lips. Almost in a trance induced by the kiss, he marched forward to the center of the room where a bed with a veil reaching up to the ceiling took it's place. They clambered into the bed without word.

Together, they shared a cold night.

Log Number #386

VI Year Of Solace. Fourth Day

Researcher Of Day, Twilight Sparkle.

Personal Diary.

**CODE**

CIVILIZATION (-)SUN(-)ORDER

I've returned from my shower to find my closet open and robe laying on the cold stone ground. I think I did it last night, I can't recall. I put the cloth back on the hook and was done with it. I remember when Spike always kept everything so clean. My robe would be too heavy and big for him. Still, he would try hard to do it and impress me.

He's still off on his Anti-Celestia stunt, playing King in the Frozen North. He should get home soon, I miss him so.

She closed the book and the lock snapped it sealed. The small, pathetic light from her horn allowed her to see the hard cover and she sighed out in sadness. She hasn't even seen him in the last 12 years. Celestia makes it clear she doesn't like it when ponies think of the past, but she and others simply can't resist.

She thought of the past often. Twilight could remember the days when they ate more than bread and water, could bathe at her own digression. She missed all her friends, the old Celestia, Spike. She dragged herself off the old copper chair she was given and almost limped to her bed. Well, it was more like rags left on the ground to cover something up or a poorly crafted rug. Twilight curled up on a ball and tried sleeping, but the constant images  of her now previous life kept flashing in her mind.

Light in her eyes made them open, and she found out a guard with a lantern was passing though the walkway directly outside the cell, shining it on the residents here. Making it clear that it was morning. She didn't get any sleep last night. It was routine for the small unicorn. With dead tired legs, she stood up on the pile of rags.

"Back to my entire life" Twilight thought as she barely walked over to her timber closet in her mostly barren room, cell more like it. With quite a bit of her strength, she opened the large wooden compartment. Inside, her worn robe. An extremely old picture of her and Spike as youngsters sitting together in a field outside Canterlot. Both on top of Shining Armor, their brother. The picture made her remember much older days. She snatched up the robe and donned it over her fading lavender coat.

She closed them and walked to her door. Well, it was a cell door. Not that she was a prisoner or anything, it was just the only thing Princess Celestia could offer. A reformed dungeon-cell made to house herself. With a weak push, she moved the rusted iron and moved forward into the very last place for Princess Celestia. A spiral hole in the ground made to house the more "active" prisoners of Equestria. Infamously named Dying Hollow Star.

She walked out and the sunlight that poured down into the hole seemed off. It always felt that way, with it coming though a huge set of bars. Other ponies walked out and instantly began walking down the corridor to the guard giving out bread and water. Few stopped and looked out, watching ponies awoke on the opposite side or simply enjoying the weak sun while they could.

"Celestia wants to see you" The familiar voice of Author, her neighbor, rang out against Twilight's ears. She always appeared a bit...lost or mysterious. But, she was considered a friend to the unicorn. Although a bit rough on the edges, Author was a strong mare with no mane or tail. At any given time outside her room, was wrapped in her cloak.

Twilight coughed twice before she replied "Thank you, Author. Your service is dear to m-" Author was already walking away. Twilight huffed and followed her. She's going to have to get down to the bottom level, traversing crowds of ponies and guards. Then, get past Jaimue, The Ninth Golueais. The Last Paladin. A huge Minotaur with a long Halberd blessed by Celestia's few ounces of magic guards the entrance to Princess Celestia's chambers. Her chamber is at the bottom. If you were to look down over the railing, you'd see said Minotaur angrily starring at the door to down there.

"Does the fair lady need a escort?" The unicorn turned and found her old friend. Wrapped up in rusty gold armor with the sunlight bouncing off it, Rarity in guard form. She wasn't the first choice to become a trooper, but many of the other recruits were just starving kids with pointy sticks. Out of the dozen or so of stallions and mares who defend them, the former tailor was one of the few with actual armor. Many beg for spears, how she has an actual lance. A weapon that was given to very high-ranking knights in older times. Better times. Although, unlike spears, it has to stay on. So, she constantly has to deal with a giant rod trying to skewer anything in front of her. Her armor is ragged and makeshift, a Royal Guard's unenchanted gold armor. More for show than actual fighting, but at least she has protection.

"Rarity, how nice to see you around and trying to impale me" Twilight said happily and bumped the lance's tip with her hoof.

"You always knew me best, Twilight. Knew I'd come here to simply attempt to run you though." The two friends both dealt each other a small embrace. They didn't always get to spend time together, Rarity and her rather restricting work and Twilight with her own grief and research. More on the side of forced research. but still research.

Her cell resided on the seventh floor. There are twelve in total, the highest housing the poor, bottom doing the same with those who gained Celestia's favor. She heard many rumors about the last floor, nicknamed White's Carriage. Showers working full time, servants, beds. The whole she-bang. They're true, Twilight passes their "cells" when going down to visit the Princess. Actual rooms made to replicate the Canterlot Noble days.

They continued walking down the Dying Star. Chatting, as one would call it. Crossing poorly fed homeless or starving ponies. All sitting with their backs against the wall or still lying. A guard will be around shortly and get them back to the harsh work they live for. Hungry, tired, the only comfort they have is the bards that are seldom allowed to play.

Before the two even knew it, they stood at the bottom level of Dying Star. Celestia's Throne is directly behind Jaimue The Giant. Rarity quickly unlocked the door using her Soldier's Key, and Twilight opened it. Jaimue stood twelve, maybe even thirteen ponies taller than her. Combine that with a angry stare at her and the magic-imbued Halberd with powerful lightning. He'd make anything quiver in fear.

Rarity walked first into the round area, though it looked more like an arena. The ground was made of a swamp-like mud, making the Minotaur even more effective down here. It is widely known for the bull to devour the homeless and poor. Rarity's hoof slightly sunk into the moist dirt. but she trudged on with Twilight behind her. Jaimue focused a almost hateful pair of eyes at them.

"Ah, Sir Jaimue the Sunlit Staff?" the unicorn in the front spoke with a light tone "Twilight Sparkle, Researcher of Day and Formerly The Princess's prized student, has been called to meet our Princess. She seeks entrance."

After the passing of a moment and a loud huff, the beast of a mortal shifted. Putting his back against the antechamber's stone wall. Twilight went past Rarity and straight to the door. The angry Minotaur here was making her a bit nervous, he did anytime the Princess called her. He's completely and entirely devoted to protecting Princess Celestia.

"Noot yoou" The low, strong voice of Jaimue assault Twilight's mind. She turned around to find his Halberd blocking Rarity's path. Before other of the unicorns could protest, the great metal doors opened. Revealing one of Celesta's personal escorts. The shinning sunlight coming from said room was blinding, but the Knight urged her in and shut the door behind her.

The room was almost entirely white. Clean, spotless. Not even a trace of dirt or grime. The small patch of cloth at the entrance cleaned her hooves of the mud outside. Windows at each side pouring sunlight in, despite the room being underground. The Princess of Sun decides to use her limited store of magic to make this room seem more appropriate, as a throne-room. The Lost Paladins, Personal Guards to Her Grace. All stood at the right side. The student walked forward and past them.

At the end, Celestia laid on a table. Broken, battered, some ponies wonder if she'll even survive much longer without all her magic. But, their traitor tongues as The Princess calls it, wouldn't flap such foulness. They live a strict lifestyle, and Twilight isn't sure this is where she wants to be.

Several hacking coughs were heard, and a nearby servant quickly rushed a jug of water to Celestia. One of the Lost Paladins sprung into action. Stopping the young, well-dressed filly in her tracks. The warrior took the jug and drank from it. Testing it for poison. After a moment, The Essuni warrior gave Celestia the container and she drank thirstily.

When she was finished, The guard took it and handed it back to the servant. She bowed and quickly left though the door. Twilight caught a glimpse of Rarity. She was talking with Jaimue, or at least trying to. He was known to be a bit...anti-social. She turned her attention back Celestia, she was sitting up now. Still coughing.

"Sparkle," Celestia finally said "Let me let you on a little secret." She leaned in closer to Twilight.

"I'm dying"

Twilight didn't have a initial reaction. Celestia, dying? It seemed...impossible. She can't die now, who was going to lead them? Luna? She was off tending relationships, or creating them, with neighbors. Celestia laid back down on the table

"But, there's a way we can prevent this from happening." The Sun Princess continued. "You need to bring Spike here, and I need to take his soul. It's the only one with enough power and magic to heal me."

Chapter of Issile

He awoke hours later. He turned his head to find Ruoia still softly sleeping beside him, her naked body warmly tucked under the quilt. He took another moment to gaze at her before quietly sliding out of the bed and softly begin walking in the dark. His footsteps guiding him to the long, royal crimson drapes. The Father opened them and was met with only the hard, eternal snow storm. Life in these remnants of a kingdom was extremely cold. The Crystal formations scattered around the area that, once a sign of the Kingdom, seemed to absorb all warmth.

As a dragon, his heart burns brighter. Therefor, he is more immune than his faithful group to the frosty winter. His faith proves to be fuel to this fire, making it cast shadows from here to the ends of the world. His symbol of Conveyance, directed by his god, will lead him. And, though him, others shall to be ripped from the miasma of confusion and hatred.

"Will thou rejoin me, Champion?" The seductive voice of Ruoia entered his mind. Day was nearly upon them, he could sense it. But he could see something else. Perhaps this is his Lord telling what to do? No, he felt it brewing, foaming inside of him. A sense, a warning. He would need to visit the High Church and ask his Lord why he was feeling this emotion.

"Lord's High Champion? Your wife is asking you to rejoin her in our bed, will thou reject her wishes?" She was growing restless. Still, he wasn't allowed to spend his time with her forever. Undoubtedly, there would be another uprising of Heretics somewhere.

"Excuse my absent-mindedness, Fire-savior Ruoia. But, I feel as if the time for less personal action is upon us." He said without looking back at her. He heard a minor hiss of annoyance and the slithering of a snake. He turned his head and found Ruoia was silently coming to him, the light from the window in front of him casting itself on her features.

Ruoia wasn't a dragon entirely. A very rare and unique mix between a serpent and a dragon, she shares qualities and traits from both reptiles. Fangs capable of delivering a minor venom. A strong resistance to heat. Below the waist, she was entirely a snake. Her tail was beginning to become plump with their new children. Her scales, albeit not as strong as a dragon's. normally changes colors. Most commonly, it was a strangely feminine shade of green or a cool red.

Once she got close, she sensually rubbed his shoulders. Ever so lovingly sneaking small kisses on the back of his neck and rubbing his exposed chest. Her rather ripe breasts pressing themselves on his cut-spines and back. Still having little effect on changing the Champion's mind.

"Omarmd.." He heard her whisper into his ear. "..Am I going to have to poison you and drag thine-self into bed with me?"

He merely chuckled and patted her hand on his chest. Without a word, he blew out a flame and it floated in front of his face. It wafted into his open hand. The green light rapidly changed colors. Red, velvet, white, grey. Staying on any color for no more than a blink of thine eye. Slowing down, ever so slowly. It finally stopped on a single, defining shade.

Black

A pure, hollow black flame nested itself in his hands. It, despite having almost entirely absorbed his palm, had no physical effect on him. Omarmd could hear it whispering.

Unless you believe

He blinked and found himself surrounded by sand. Miles upon miles of sand. Four cloaked ponies were kneeling to him, their faces couldn't be seen. They each wore crowns. One came with a masterfully-crafted, purely gold crown. Another wore a crude. moss-covered stone crown. He couldn't recognize the other two power-symbols. He heard the whispering again, but it was louder.

Don't you believe, *Spike*?

The voice said his former's name so loudly, he blinked hard in surprise. Surprised further once he finds himself back in his chambers and still in front of the window. Ruoia still attempting to drag him into the warm bed.

He shook off her hand half-hardheartedly and quickly went to get dressed. He crushed the black fire in his hand, it ever so quickly disappearing beneath his sharpened claws, as he reached for a long, highly-decorated, golden robe with several markings and symbols on each and every inch of the cloth. A chain going around the left shoulder and under the right arm kept in place the Veraces Secuutus Bible. His absolute most precious object, it offers The Father the power to forever hold true. He has every blot of ink upon the book's pages memorized. The Father had many questions he wanted to ask his lord, so he must travel to High Church of Sold Sacrifice, deep in the warm-seeking cold snow. A colossal arena. There, you prove yourself worthy of the attention of his god though the defeat of another.

Despite his status as High Champion, he too must prove himself over and over again. Bringing down whatever beast was placed in front of him and sending their souls directly to meet his lord. He got the robe around his scaled body and it fit him without error, standing or not. It covered near every inch of his body, giving him the slight appearance of a monk or priest.

Just beside the robe's former resting place, a foreign weapon used by an underground group of banished Centaurs. His own god enhanced this unique weapon for him as a gift. Centaurs made many weapons that ponies simply couldn't use. One of which was a curved great-sword given to the most powerful of the Mengls, meaning the queen or king. These hybrids were conquered by The Father. Under threat of enslavement, they quickly offered this strangely effective weapon. It has the frightful power to heal the user with each attack. He carefully slid it inside the back of his robe, the handle sticking straight up over his left shoulder. The title of Fevur graced the blade.

The Fire-savior retreated back to bed as he went on to reach for his next object. The Shield of Daiions' Neck. A sharp-edged barrier employed by the slender-bodied, light-weight Sareoles. For his swiftness to defend them from the powerful grip of Klure The Aching, the long-haired people gifted him wheat from their own fields, several large flasks of Liquid La Tie, and their best shield. It awaited him above the window. They also offered him their high-quality metal-bending skills.

It was tall. Spreading to his chest from the ground easily. The image of a roaring avalanche speeding down a mountain was to represent his faithful's constant presence upon any battlefield. Despite being strong enough to stop an raging bull's buck, it remains extremely light. He quickly strapped it to his arm.

He has equipped his choice of armaments mostly, he still must locate The Ever-Lasted Stave. Crafted by his own claws, a long-staff wrapped in symbols had quite the reach and a very threatening Draio tooth at the end. Draosi Apes commonly populated the Frozen North and end even the most seasoned and equipped traveler.

Omarmd heard Ruoia's disgruntled hmpf and she informed him that their daughter, Pupa, wished to pray to it. The Father nodded and walked out the room, leaving a pregnant Ruoia lying in the princess-sized bed. Several pony claw-maidens awaited outside and rushed in to service the Fire-savior in his absence.

The hall was expansive, grand. Despite the main source of light being the grey flooding in from the windows, the chamber still had the appearance of something a royal pony would imagine. Art of the old and deceased formerly hung from the walls. taken and incinerated many cycles ago. Now, the walls were mostly bare. Hoof and hand carved images freely marked the walls. The left side consisted of mostly Crystal Glass. The light reflected off every surface of the shining crystal.

A total of nine doors stood between him and the other set of large doors. All of which, like everything is in the abode, was composed entirely of the mineral known as crystal. Four of said doors contained his off-spring. The first door homed his first born, Katauc. A well known Druid outside of The Frozen North, he has lead several groups though the snow-storm that constantly batters this land. He is entirely draconian, and is to serve as The Starred Sair, or Lord's Mage, when he comes of age.

Two entrances down led to The Father's Daughter's room. Pupa Dral never invested into one set of skills. As the second youngest, she mainly graced the north near home. Rarely leaving outside the protective presence of the faithful, she is commonly seen browsing the clothing sections of any shop or store. Offer her a great-sword or a spear and she'll make an outfit to match the armament, then proceed not to wear the clothing, nor weapon. Her traits reminded him of a certain heretic he fancied commonly in his past life.

Without any thought, Omarmd slightly rushed to the door and went to open it just as the last door opened. Out walked his youngest of seed, Rao Tir. The weakest and thoughtless of all the many The Father had seen in all his days. So dishonorable he abandoned his name. The below average dragon isn't allowed to leave the castle, much less the Frozen North. The suspected heathen strictly wields a flanged mace and a small leather shield. Mainly do to his lack of skill or strength. His scales shine with a light purple and several, xanthous colored short spines ran themselves down his back.

The moment he noticed his father watching him, he quickly made for the door to avoid interacting with his parent. Unfortunately, Omarmd wasn't in the mood to let the whelp go.

"Son, where are you hurrying off to? Come, converse with The Lord's Champion." The Father heard his son's grunt and slightly frowned. Rao Tir turned, his only clothing being restricted to a Novice Scribe's toga and dragged himself to be presented to The Father. The inferior dragon hardly came up to Omarmd's neck and he nearly glared down at his son.

"Why hasth...thy calledeh..to myself-th?" The young fool remarked incorrectly, causally displaying such ignorance in the presence of Omarmd. In truth, he merely wished to somehow teach Rao Tir something worthwhile. He quickly jabbed the son's nose, instantly breaking it and sending the child sprawling on his back.

"Rao Tir..." The Champion pondered what to say for a moment as Rao Tir clutched his bleeding nose "..Recite the first line spoken by Laza The Tired in the Chapter of Lost Faith." Completely confident the child didn't know the page where the chapter even begins,  The Lord's Champion readied his shield arm and waited for the boy to stand back up.

"She said-" he was interrupted by the rude shield bash Omarmd performed on him, yet again sending him to the ground. Laza was a stallion, not a mare. The Father must ensure his bounty's knowledge of the past. With hardly a grunt of effort, The Father lifted Rao Tir from the ground with one hand around his neck. Shaking out a low moan of pain.

"Lift us up from indifference," The Father grumbled "Shift us into the light of significance." Omarmd quoted with ease. The Lord's Champion brought Rao Tir to the larger set of doors at the end of the hall. There stood a Utaosis Dog. A mixture between the Arctic Wolf and Diamond Dogs found near a heretic settlement. The result was a agile, slightly weak-minded, able fighter. Their packs were all under the Covenant of His Faithful.

He dropped the defeated dragon at the guard's paws with orders to escort Rao Tir to the Lowest Eye. The Lowest Eye being a prison designed for captured heretics, and Rao Tir shall spend a few days locked there with a Veraces Secuutus bible. With that bit of the unsavory action ended, Omarmd retreated back to Pupa's door and walked in.

Pupa was a tall, slender-bodied, fine-featured youngster. She takes more after her mother than her father in terms of appearance. Her room, although had no windows, was very lit. A bonfire at the other side of the room held a bright green flame, coating the room in a light green color.

Pupa herself was bowing before The Ever-Lasted Stave, chanting the Threnody Without Peace. Her servant, the heretic Princess Mi Amore' Cadenza, sat nearby and worshiped Lady Dral. Omarmd waited for his daughter to finish.

"You shall go to him and inform him I wish to make amends for my crimes."

The Princess continued, despite Twilight's expressionless face. Celestia merely laid back down and her eyes kept themselves on the ceiling,

"You will guide him here, and I shall.. take his faith he oh-so treasures." Her voice took on a minor venom near the middle, but it crossed well enough to her. Travel to The North, bring Spike back along with Shining Armor and Cadence. A few years back, Celestia sent her brother and his wife there to attempt to force Spike to back down from his throne. They've yet to hear back.

"Your escort will be leaving in the next hour, so I suppose you should hurry."

By the moment's passing, Twilight was rushed back out in to the antechamber by a Lost Paladin. The sight out here was somewhat improved from before. Jaimue was tossing glances at a slightly blushing Rarity while he held his halberd tight. At the sight of her emergence, the guard quickly straightened her back and look wholesomely more refined.

"What did our holy princess ask of you, Researcher of Day Sparkle?" She nearly shouted at her, assuming the causal guard's salute sharply.

Twilight walked past her and stopped at the door, turning around to respond to the question.

"Our monarch has requested the presence of Spike The Scribe."

Without another word, the researcher began her trek to topside of the Dying Hollow Star.

Chapter of Lowly Suffering

**A memory. Gold, pure.**

Without life or sight

I was created from what was unmade

My heart forged without light

I await my lord's command

The Prophet will steel our broken

At last

Pupa finished strongly, ending the Threnody Without Peace. The heretic in the room remained bowed, but Omarmd hardly noticed. He cared very little about it, only in it's punishment. His Daughter quickly picked up The Ever-Lasted Stave from where it laid on an Alter of Cra.  The spear easily could poke the ceiling. The tooth itself was almost pyramid-shaped, with it all smoothly running up to a sharp point. Two small blades jutted out from under the sharp bone. The shaft was made of Puoliuan Sinea. A rare metal gifted to him many moons before. It not only retains the power to show his status as High Champion, but remains strong enough for him to make usage of it. However, The Ever-Lasted Stave was actually quite heavy. It shined lightly and appeared to be almost made of glass.

His most prized and blessed weapon did have one unique factor about it's appearance. Attached just below the two sharp points under the blade, a long flowing banner. Upon it, a thousand spears, swords, daggers raised high in the air. To symbolize his covenant's mass and prowess.

His Daughter bowed as she offered the Completed Staff to him, to which he responded with a minor blessing. He took the spear with a small show of dexterity.  Assembling his choice of weapons at the moment. Omarmd freely changed what he chose to equip, but all of his arms prove themselves dear to the disciple. Although, a select few of them carry Ribbons of Definitive Fate.

The Father simply tapped Pupa's still bowing head with the tip of his spear, a display of his pleasure induced by her actions. He left Pupa to her own whims and sealed the door shut behind him. Finally ready to venture out into the blistering snow, he made his way out the captured castle.

Twilight nearly sprinted upstairs, leaving Rarity to resume her duties. Ignoring the alabaster, pristine hall of White, she gave the key to her cell to Author as she passed. Twilight was more than aware of Rarity's thievery, it's how she obtained all she has. Author was a reliable mare when she needed to be and Twilight would commonly bestow such chores upon the mane-less mare.

She was now on the very first floor. The guards rarely patrol this level, with dozens of homeless openly roaming the rancid-scented halls. Many crippled or having lost an entire limb. They most commonly fight for scraps of whatever the guards leave behind. It reeked a foul sort here with feces littering the ground. The walls were entirely bare, blood from the runts of their ranks casually laid on the ground. True anarchy and disorder easily roamed this level, unchained nor restrained.

She spotted a single, skin-clad stallion standing still as a statue when she neared the level of squalor. He was sweating quite heavily. It was considerably much warmer up here. A sheet of chain-mail was attempting to pack down a mane of pure crimson in vain. His coat was of the lightest shade of orange Twilight ever saw. A very unusual sight these times, such a colorful guard. Only the pampered, privileged at the lowest level could retain a healthy coat in this growing age of desperation.

As Twilight went to pass him, he suddenly straightened out his back and gave a quick salute. Unlike many of the other members in the clan known as the Alt, he carried a small, sharp piece of metal upon his left flank. It was a strange weapon for a pony to use, with it being fitted for the four-legged beings to use. She recognized it from "The Faithful's" arsenal. Blades were normally reserved for those able to use them effectively. The grip, instead of moving down with the blade, actually veered off to the left. A thrusting dirk. His equipment obviously placed him out as a guard.

"Lady Twilight!" The guard's voice blared out, the tight halls increasing the volume  "Cadet Imperial Guard, here to escort you!" His face was young, probably hasn't even given himself up to a mare yet. Fairly strong in the front, but his hind-legs appeared quite flaccid. He was actually quite handsome, but she hid that thought. Twilight performed a small nod. His voice, although didn't sound threatening or sad, didn't carry any kind of joy nor pleasantness.

"Good to see our holy Celestia has gifted such an... able-bodied guard." Drawing out the word in a sarcastic manner, Twilight passed by him and the cadet was quick in his pursuit. She goes off a journey, with only a cadet, a trainee to protect her? She huffed loudly as she continued into the first level, Imperial Guard closely behind her. Expressing great caution to avoid the fly-ridden piles of dung causally resting upon the ground.

"I volunteered, Lady Twilight." Imperial walked up beside her, filling up the hallway with his larger body. "No other guard was willing to follow you, ma'am."

Too focused on complaining about her escort service and dodging the shyte on the ground, Twilight walked smack dab in into the dirty, powerful chest of a denizen of this level. The researcher quickly found out the ruffians were not a forgiving nor a patient type, with the large male glaring down upon her in moments. With several scars running themselves down his entire body and an eye seemingly carved out, he was most definitely an imposing figure. His body took up the entire hall, leaving no room to slip by him with. His coat, like many of the other inhabitants of this place, was an unclean pelt of brown. Although, his remaining eye was a bright, unique mulberry purple.

He growled in laughter and opened his spacious maw. "Wells'," He spoke in a dry, unsophisticated tone "Loks' like wee's got ourselfs' a good bangin' tonight!" Several other sounds of laughter and joy rouse behind him. Twilight quickly apologized, but the aroused male seemed to care very little. His two meaty forelegs went to wrap around her. Twilight cowered lower to the ground and shut her eyes tightly.

"Chapter of Preservation, brother."

The featureless sound of the cadet behind her wafted into the tension. As if the words were steel, the brute stepped aside. Revealing the others behind him also doing the same. Slightly confused and somewhat dazed, Imperial took the lead and offered out his hoof for her. Not thinking, Twilight simply grabbed it and felt herself walking forward. Lost in a minor trance of Imperial Guard's guidance.

"Lady Twilight? You've just stepped into some fecal matter, ma'am."

The unicorn quickly shook her head in surprise, just realizing they've completely passed the angry homeless and now were coming up to the single exit of the prison. Inspecting her right hoof, it was in fact smeared with remains of feeding. She groaned loudly, slightly alerting the sleeping ponies around them and causing the cadet to chuckle. She tried to get the ever-so lightly green matter of her coat, but only exceeded in getting the foul-smelling mush onto her other hoof.

They arrived at the exit. What laid before them appeared as a simple, iron made door, but it was much more than that with the use of the Lunar Deity's magic. Although it could be opened on this side at anytime, it requires very specific preparations to activate and function as intended. Only the Lost Paladins of Celesta's command strictly knew of the method to go about the preparations, excluding the rulers themselves.

It could speed their journey greatly, but the exact destination was...fairly misplaced. In more simpler words; they had the barest clue as to where Spike laid. He captured the Crystal Kingdom mostly, but they can't truly find him in the eternal snowstorm. They've sent many threats of war and treaties of peace to the dragon, gifts even. mostly returned with the herald in pristine condition, including the offering itself completely untouched.

Their heads were in pristine condition. The rest of the body's fate would be entirely unknown. Spike is known to be quite brutal when it comes to reciprocation.

While she continued her trail of thought, the cadet, being the most forward of the two, opened the door for them both. Flooding the air with an army consisting entirely of grains of sand. Twilight's worn duster thankfully protected most of her body from the assault, unfortunately, her face suffered slightly. Their first checkpoint on this trek was Appallaanoi, led by the ever hostile Avixel, formally known as a proud member of the Apple family, caring friend and sister. Like many of the more reputable, Applejack fell to Spike's offers and temptations. Or be felled by his zealous claws instead.

Being a benefiting part of his covenant was extremely desirable, and Applejack's family still held fair farmland and commanded the skill to manage them. But, giving transportation to such large quantities of food required capable motion. So, the proud ponies of Appallaanoi captured the sole functioning train of the Friendship Express, hijacked most of the tracks located on the western side of Equestria, including the settlements around the train's path. Los Pegasus, Vanhoover, -

"Not in interrupt your thoughts, Lady Twilight," The patient guard finally said after a sliver of time passed "but if we are to hope to arrive before nightfall, we must leave with great haste." The flustered unicorn quickly set aside her thoughts and followed Imperial out into the desert wasteland. The first to assault her senses was the door shutting behind them, the second was the nearly freezing air.

After Princess Celestia had lost her magical prowess, she could no longer control the sun. The same for Princess Luna. Both the orbital foundations of life simply rotate around freely, but rarely hitting The Frozen North for whatever reason. The icy tundra seemed to be forever lost in a suspected magically-woven snowstorm. Making any treks into the land extremely precarious for a being not suited to the freezing cold.

Judging by the miles of sand around them, the phantom door landed the two unlikely partners in between the remains of Dodge Junction and the bountiful Appallaanoi. Years before, two gangs of griffons clashed in the destroyed town. Now, only dilapidated homes and shops remain in the once knowledge-rich town of Dodge Junction. Without much thought to the trouble they'll face nor the low-hanging sun, Twilight started traversing the wasteland.

"Wait, M'lady!" Imperial rushed after her, as a foal would his mother.

He couldn't see.

His body hurt everywhere. Dez remembered his dad beating him up. His broken snout sharply reminded him of that beat-down. It no longer was bleeding, thankfully. But that old bastard knocked him out cold. The young scribe was able to open his left eye to find dirty, grimy stone beneath him. With some effort, he lifted himself into a siting position. He recognized his surroundings quickly. He was locked in a cell, a common sight for Dez. The young charmer is known to fool a farmer's daughter every now and then. Might end up bruised a little and locked in a cellar from time to time, but that was the price for fine booty, as one of those Baltimare pirates would put it.

The only light spilling into the containment room was from the only entrance, which was, against his luck, a hatch far above on the ceiling. He was in the Lowest Eye. Or, has Dez's dad would call it "Home of Heretics". The room itself had no luxuries. A small, stone slab was lifted from the ground. His royal sleeping quarters, probably. Extremely questionable brown-stuff was lining the walls. His broken nose couldn't register the stank, for that he thanked the devil watching over him.

The hatch opened, a blinding light attacked his eyes and he was forced to turn his head to avoid further pain. He felt something smash against his head and the hatch closed again. His hands instantly went to nurse his newest injury as he looked down at what dared to hit him.

It was a book, a heavy one from the feeling of it. On its cover, words were etched in that strange language of his dad's. Dez never bothered to remember the lessons of them, but he did learn to read and write from the pony commoners, although that knowledge was limited to Old Equestrian. He looked at the titled with mild interest and Dez read-out loud "Follower, Truthful Follower"

He kicked the collection of pages away and grumbled to himself. Angered and bored, Dez tried to burn the damnable item. He opened his incredibly handsome jaw, which wasn't broken by that crazed menace, and spat his meek golden flames at the book. The flames coated it, but rolled off it and died on the ground. "Fire-proof" he said to himself.

Dez laid down on the dirty floor and groaned.

Pillar of Sold Sacrifice

Omarmd erupted out from the twin-doors leading outside, shattering the newest sheet of ice covering the entrance. When he stormed the heretic stronghold many years past, he met little in means of resistance. After the Crystal Heart's protective field, and the still standing mages' magical cover finally both began to dim and ice started swallowing the Kingdom. Nearly all the inhabitants evacuated to the warmer south. Freezing temperatures was the only hurdle the Faithful had to pass to acquire this now revived kingdom.

Lord's High Champion, wasting no time standing in the cold, walked down the frozen steps. His heavy, clawed feet crushing the ice beneath them. Omarmd's destination was the High Church. In truth, the High Church was but a large arena, formally designed as a running ground. There, The Father shall gather His Lord's attention. The Kythes of Faith coating themselves all around his robe quickly flashed, and the terrible cold around Omarmd ceased greatly. Being the Lord's High Champion, although promising divine favors, was easily the most tasking of titles.

Omarmd simply allowed his thoughts to freely control themselves as he traversed though the urban section of the Kingdom. The path here was fairly populated. Mostly with the more common equine broken up by a Griffin in flight or a lumbering Minotaur. Omarmd's clan, although doesn't have restrictions when it comes to species, was no simple fraternity to enter. You must demonstrate great faith and sacrifice, then you shall be judged. Ending in eternal service to His Lord, or death should they fail the inspection.

He did tower over most ponies. The Faithful did look up at him occasionally, but then went back to their own whims without much thought towards him. Lord's High Champion takes this path quite commonly, so the merchants rarely took note of him. Omarmd wasn't some celebrity of the past, nor a decorated artist.

A young griffin stumbled down the road beside him, without parent nor guide. Omarmd gazed down at it for a brief moment, and it looked back with curiosity only a child could wield. After a moment of unspoken staring, the young bird opened his beak and spoke in strangely Elder Gragapic. "Father sayss youss a... badss persons" Although the language wasn't a very intelligent one, Omarmd was fluent in the tongue. He cleared his throat and replied.

"Your patron may harbor these thoughts freely," Lord's High Champion said back down to the child,  "but, allow me to attempt to persuade you to favor my cause." He stopped in the road and got down on the griffon chick's level. The youngster's eyes gazed at the symbols around his cloak and reached out to him. "Whats are theses?" The chick uttered, mystified by the symbols.

"Those who are faithful eternally shall receive these holy gifts upon each act they do in their lord's name." Omarmd gestured to his cloak "I've dedicated entire campaigns to my Lord." He noticed the chick was actually shivering in the road. Griffins aren't exactly suited to thrive in the hold of such frosty conditions, but their stone-laden land is known to endure some of the most bitterest of winters. The Father took the advantage.

Omarmd drove his spear-point into the hard snow beneath him, and with his now freed hand, Omarmd reached out and brushed the scruff of the beast before him quickly, and when his hand retreated, a single droplet of the child's blood stained his claw. He gestured down at the griffon's feet, to which the chick obliged his command and held out it's left foot.

Omarmd took a hold while his claw expertly drew a single Kythe of Naivety upon the chicks footing, the child confused by it once given the moment to analyse it. "Each symbol requires much faith to aid you to their fullest potential." Omarmd said while he dried his claw off in the snow "More faith, more gifts from our blessed Lord. The one I've just branded you with will allow you to recover quicker from your daily strains of chick hood."

The chick raised his newly acquired Kythe into the freezing cold, but he couldn't feel the stinging sensation. He brought it back down and up once more, again not being able sense the cold. The scaled beast chuckled and regained his height again, brushed off the snow that stuck to his knee. took his spear back from the icy terrain, turned and continued his journey.

The path to the High Church wasn't a long one. Lord's High Champion would be there to make his feelings heard shortly. All the homes had ended passed this point, so all Omarmd could see was endless, bitter snow. Still, his feet marched on to the High Church.

Soon, the freezing cloud around him disappeared, showing the stairway down into the arena to Lord's High Champion. Without wasting another moment, The Father quickened his pace and easily rushed down the frozen steps. The Father reached the bottom, but continued sprinting. He visualized the arena from memory. Yes, he was on the Invader plate, Omarmd could sense the power beneath his feet. He reached down and brushed the residing snow away, showing the pure stone.

The blizzard surrounding him retreated and sunlight assaulted the area, revealing the arena to the naked eye. The Faithful commonly endure the effort to travel here, mostly to watch the inevitable duels. They've built places to sit around the holy ground, which weren't entirely filled at the moment. Mostly the domestic equine, although rarer sorts were found awaiting the fight.

The arena was actually quite simple. There are two fighters, each on two plates. The Invader and Offender Plate. In the center of the colossal stage stood the Symbol of The Blind Nomad, a pure stone boulder. Omarmd couldn't see the challenger until the Symbol retracted back down. A single crow, blacker than any midnight, landed on the very tip of The Symbol.

"Such a fine day for murder, don't you foolish gentleponies and sexy mares agree?" The crow croaked out in a strangely handsome voice. The Announcer of the High Church, more widely known as Suriv, commonly introduces both fighters to His Lord. Omarmd didn't particularly enjoy the bird's company, with him constantly obsessing over Pupa Dral. The Lord's High Champion had that right as her father. Suriv used to be the lord of chaos himself, Discord. But, on the open battlefield, Lord's High Champion defeated Discord, and sentenced him to the life of The Announcer of High Church. Discord could have still taken any form after his sentence, but he intentionally became a crow. Crows didn't live in such dangerous conditions normally.

"On the Invader Plate," Suriv continued on to the crowd "none other than The Prophet, Lord's Highest Champion himself!"

The crow croaked in an humored manner. "I'm sure you all are aware of The Prophet's status, so I won't go though the effort of introducing that bitter dragon!"

Omarmd raised his spear, confirming it was the dragon. He heard them praying for his opponent, but The Father simply commenced his own prayer of faith, causing the already glowing Kythes to spur into a more intimidating shade of crimson.

"Standing on the Offender Plate," The crow spoke in a more seducing voice. "The ever independent, bested in terms of beauty only by the ever graceful Pupa Dral herself, Tyine 'Lecon Eri of the Strayed Wolves!"

Suriv flapped his wings. "Tyine 'Lecon has fought in many battles, some even fought under The Prophet's guidance! The Strayed Wolves sent their most elite warrior indefinitely!" Suriv muttered lowly, but Omarmd caught "Perhaps now that thorn in my side will meet a deserved swift end...!"

The Clan of Stray Wolves was a rogue band of dogs and other canine-like species. Lord's High Champion heard her primal howl from his side, alongside the audience's cries of cheer. With the introductions finished, Suriv flew off the bolder. Slowly, it retreated back down into the ice. Omarmd was aware of Tyine 'Lecon's savage fighting style and her decorated scimitars were known to cause whirlwinds of red. Unfortunately, his shield will remain unbroken and he shall end this fight quickly. The Father expected she will attack quickly and without mercy. Omarmd was aware she was a Diamond Dog as well.

The stone fully retracted but Lord's High Champion couldn't hear Tyine's paw-falls racing towards him. But the blizzard had lowered down over him again, allowing his opponent to attack at any angle she wished. He raised his shield and readied his spear for quick-stabbing with his shield up.

Tyine erupted from the haze to his left, speedily closed the distance and both of her weapons bore down on Omarmd's shield. It was the first time The Father saw the she-wolf's face. It's color was a unique pure snow, her eyes the common light brown. The dragon counter-attacked with a sharp poke, to which forced Tyine 'Lecon to retreat back into the weather unharmed. Tyine did this three more times, each with the same result of Omarmd blocking and her retreat.

"It seems like our beautiful canine friend can't get passed The Champion's shield!" Suriv informed the audience. "What will Tyine do now?!"

His opponent, now realizing her blades wouldn't leak passed his shield, hid in the blizzard. Lord's High Champion couldn't fight such a swift fighter with his sight hindered by this blizzard. The Father had a different method of making his opponent show herself.

Omarmd planted his knee in the snow beneath him without another thought and began chanting loudly, completely aware that hostile eyes were patiently awaiting the moment to rip out his throat. Or, Tyine 'Lecon knew what Omarmd was doing and was simply unwilling to attack. Appearing as if from the snow itself, hot crimson Klythes began dotting Omarmd's neck, varying in shapes and sizes. Lord's High Champion already sensed the melting heat in his belly gathering. It rushed into his mouth and flames leaked passed his teeth. He took in a deep lungful of the cold air.

He retook his footing. leaned in towards in the freezing air, and opened his maw. Out poured a massive, long line of flame reaching the icy air around Omarmd. Its heat so great, it even melted the snow beneath his feet. Exposing the Invader plate entirely and the face of Itaroi Jye The Fire Tempest engraved on it.

"Did you witness that, audience?" Suriv continued to rap on to the gathered crowd "The Prophet turned the flow of battle by releasing a wave of his draconian flame! A rare battle-move on his part!"

The wisps of remaining flame retreated back into his maw and the Klythes disappeared as well. Omarmd's former thought was true, the she-wolf did retreat. Tyine had back-stepped to where the Stone of The Blind Nomad once was, and seemingly was awaiting Lord's High Champion move.

Omarmd dropped The Shield of Daiions' Neck and it landed with a dull ring on the already melting ice. The she-wolf did the same with both of her weapons, growling with hunger. A single red-line running diagonal appeared on the retina of her right eye. Lord's High Champion grabbed the hilt of Fevur and unsheathed the great-sword. Omarmd held the strength to effectively use the weapon with only his left hand.

Tyine only allowed Lord's High Champion another moment, then proceeded to lunge towards him with but a single step. She was nimble while graceful. Omarmd met her half-way and slashed downward with his great-sword. The Father miscalculated where she would be and his great-sword dug into the ice directly in front of her. Tyine's claws didn't miss as they latched onto his shoulders, tearing though the golden cloth and buried themselves into his scales. Her sharp fangs scratched his armored neck.  Omarmd growled lightly and kicked her back far with a heavy leg. Which gave him a little space to recover. Within a moment of Tyine's landing, she was dashing back to attack on all fours.

Omarmd's scales endured most of the attack, but his robe suffered. Lord's High Champion's clothing was most critical to him. He let go of Fevur and took the Ever-Lasted spear into both hands. Steam suddenly rose up from beneath him and Omarmd realized 'Lecon's claws did penetrate, and a small brook of his intensely hot essence reached the freezing snow. An idea invaded Omarmd's mind, a brutally effective method.

Lord's High Champion brought his right hand up to his teeth and sharply bit into his palm, instantly breaking though the scales and shedding his own crimson hot blood. Omarmd then raised his wounded hand high into the air and chanted. All the while Tyine closed the distance at a rapid pace. In retort, Lord's High Champion quickly took his spear with his left hand and effortlessly threw it in Tyine's direction.

The hit was successful with the pyramid-shaped point burying itself deep inside Tyine's right leg. Stopping her mid-leap and causing her to crash hard in the snow. As an feral animal would, Tyine refused to halt and continued to crawl, taking in ragged gulps of cold air with pure frustration and a steely determination to survive. She paused to ripped the spear out and howled in pain, threw it to the side and regained her footing.

"Fuckin' Omarmd..." Tyine growled though clenched fangs to herself while she limped towards him.  "I'm not gonna die...!" To even further her inevitable failure, Suriv landed on her shoulder and commenced cleaning his wing for a moment then leaped back into the sky.

Lord's High Champion let his arm rest at his side, and his newly self-inflicted injury began a neat shower of red on the snow. The ground retorted with a flush of steam and a loud hiss. A dragon's heart pumps blood so intensely hot, it is known to burn flesh as if it were acid.  The rapid flow straightened out into one, then proceeded to take a more solid, rope-like form.

Omarmd threw his arm back, taking his newly formed whip with it. He brought it back on Tyine's injured form with a satisfactory hit on her leg, causing her to crash again into the snow with a thunderous sound.

"It seems..." Discord said to the crowd with an unsurprising sense of dread "..That Tyine 'Lecon Eri has been fairly defeated by The Father."

Lord's High Champion timed another perfect hit, the blood whip reaching and warping around her neck just as she was stumbling back to her feet. She howled loudly in pain. Omarmd tugged and she was forced back down to her knees. Already, the melting heat was sinking passed her skin and would likely cause fourth degree burns. Interrupting Omarmd's grim chuckle, Suriv swooped down and landed on his injured shoulders.

"Spike?" The crow croaked "Surely killing such a worthy ally is labeled unthinkable to you, right?" Omarmd shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the feather-brained beast. Discord held still. The whip was tightening around her neck and Tyine whimpered in agony as she desperately clawed at Omarmd's righteous weapon.

"Fly away, bird." The dragon grumbled back "She's my kill, so she's my property. I remember you being in a similar situation, Discord."

"Spike," The crow's voice became a bit more stern. "This is the Overarch of The Clan of Wolves. They will not remain under your Covenant, if you slaughter her so needlessly. Show these dogs mercy, Omarmd."

He processed the words for but a moment, then Lord's High Champion reluctantly eased the whip around Tyine's neck, allowing her to take deep, savage breaths. The Father took the moment to speak.

"I have seen your skill and your almost bestial drive to win against any foe during the Skirmishes Of Vanhoover and the Reign of The Tyrant, Magic-Eater Celestia." Omarmd said in an sage-like voice, but then quickly swapped to a father relentlessly scolding a boy. "Your defeat was swift and ensured, but consider me sparing your life one of endless kindness."

Chapter of Travel

Night would soon be blanketing the world, which would likely spell out the end for the malnourished and ill-prepped Twilight. Her, alongside her willing guard, Imperial Guard, trekked the now darkened sand towards the nearing town of Appallaanoi. An hour or so ago, she collapsed and the cadet was forced to carry her laid out on his back. If Twilight hadn't fallen unconscious long ago, and Imperial hadn't forced her to drink the remains of his water ration, the carrying pony was confident the alarmingly thin mare would be protesting the needed assist.

The foreboding squawks of the garnered vultures above came alongside the excited and almost mocking yelps of the coyotes following no more than a few yards behind. It wasn't the most warming of situations, it could even be perceived as a life-threatening position. However, Imperial sent the message they would be coming discreetly to the faithful Appallaanoi riders. He, alongside those without a warm home, actually are of The Faithful and carry out their sermons in the dark. Securing a standpoint for The Faithful in the Dying Star. Awaiting the command.

When word traveled to the Dying Star about the judgmental but fair Prophet, The Will of Their Lord. Nearly all of the poorly-treated ponies would have rushed to join The Faithful. However, the Dying Star wasn't exactly a conventional prison, it technically didn't even exist by regular standards. It drifts lamely in a plane unknown. So, excavation en mass was never an option. They were fortunately forced in by the crowds. They communicate with their brothers and sisters all throughout Fallen Equestria via their Lord. However, it could take months for any individual message to cross over completely.

The dust now clouding the horizon broke the guard's thoughts. Within moments, the thudding of hooves reached Imperial's ears and he understood that reinforcements would arrive shortly. Taking the moment to lay Twilight down carefully on the cool sand, he swiftly took off the chain-mail he wore. It was uncomfortable, and Imperial likes to be comfortable. A sleek green glow suddenly consumed his body, but was quickly blown off his body by the breeze. Revealing the sleek, black carapace any other Changeling had since birth. Imperial, like any other faithful guard, was a Changeling spy. He shook himself, finally being out of a false form.

Despite the despicable status they attained, the Changeling race was easily least effected in comparison to others. Due to their queen, Chrysalis, becoming well-acquainted with The Prophet early during Val, she single-hoofly insured the survival and charming wealth of the Changeling race. Last Imperial heard, Carvae-Mother Chrysalis was currently overseeing operations outside of Fallen Equestria entirely. Likely spreading the word about the current situation and The Faithful, or beginning trade. The Pasture however remained close allies with Magic-Eater Celestia. The grassy land was dominated purely by the stronger horses.

After another moment of hooves slamming down on the sand towards them, the dust form surrounded both Imperial and the downed Twilight. The moderately uneducated Appallanoi ponies did enjoy to display themselves with the traditional cloud as their introduction. Imperial shielded Twilight's face from the offending dust.

The cloud dissipated and the riders stood exposed in a loose circle around them. They wore the causal worker garments from pre-Val era, but all had symbols scratched deep into their leather, with some even bearing Klythes. One with abnormal amounts of symbols upon her clothing and face took command and spoke with the common South accent. Her coat was mostly covered by the tough leather they all wore, but the short light orange mane Avixel had couldn't be concealed by her signature head-wear.

"You Imperial, right?" She spat on the ground before continuing "Ah' can barely tell you Changlins' apart"

Imperial respectfully bowed "Yes, I am that agent. I am escorting a messenger to The Prophet directly, as you already know from the message I sent." He nodded over to Twilight. Suddenly, the mare glared at Twilight for a moment but ended her stare quickly and shifted her head back to the Changeling. The yelping and calls of the scavengers ceased.

"Good, ya already off'ed 'er" Avixel snorted "Thought y'all Changlins' were jus' pussy-footers." One of the riders threw Imperial a leather pouch containing water. The Changeling race also had a undeniable need for the liquid. He took a swift swig then tilted Twilight's head and filled her mouth with the life-preserving water, which was swallowed without any neck massaging. He offered it back, but the rider urged him to keep it.

The Changeling finally answered. "Lady Twilight hasn't crossed the threshold into the house of death yet, Left Hand of The Prophet." Many leading forces of The Faithful had such titles. The Prophet himself securing the most prestigious alias in the Covenant.

The sturdy mare grumbled. "Ya don't need ta carry that tramp to 'em, Changlin." Avixel gestured towards the Frozen North. "Haven't ya'll heard of the divine news?" Imperial shook his head to either side. This caused the mare to chuckle "We've jus' located Heretic Queen, Sooth' Sayah' Luna. We'r waitin' on The Prophet's Blessin'.

"Which is why I need to get this messenger to the Prophet directly." Imperial replied "I believe Magic-Eater Celestia wishes to do good on her crimes against all of us."

The collected stallions and mares began shifting on the sand. Night was nearly here. Avixel snorted "Fine, ya can carry that appleseed horse. Mah boys dun't like Heretics." The Changeling nodded and put the pouch around his neck and hoisted Twilight back onto his back. He swiftly attached the chain-mail around his head. It was a required piece to complete the transformation back into the guard Twilight knew. The Appallaanoi riders began galloping back and Imperial took the rear.

The town of Appallaanoi, which was formally named Appleloosa, wasn't much in means of luxury. Imperial had made journeys here in the past.  Once the riders got back, most lumbered into the fortified saloon, while others retreated to their beds on the other side of the road. Avixel made a gesture to the remaining riders and turned from the leading spot in the smaller herd.

"That heretic gonna' be sleeping yonder" She pointed to a heavily dilapidated, small shack. Avixel spat on the ground and took off her worn hat and cleansed it of the sand. "You's welcum to locate other sleepin' arrangements, brother. The bitch ain't." Imperial, although Faithful, was a bit more refined and didn't resort to such vocal attacks. The Changeling nodded.

"Howeva'," Avixel continued speaking "Train ain't back 'ere yet, so the bitch gonna' have to wait. Ah' imagine them nice fellahs' up at the saloon will house ya for the night".

"I'll be escorting Lady Twilight, Chieftain Avixel. I'll sleep at her side as well." Imperial righted Twilight on his back. "However, I must ask for some feed, Left Hand of The Prophet."

A stank liquid suddenly splashed on her face, rudely awaking Twilight and causing her to yelp in surprise. Before she could even open her eyes, she was clocked directly in the snout. Shaking her already impaired mind inside her skull.

"Now, ya'll lucky I don't gut ya, Heretic!." A familiar Southern accented voice rang out above the pain. Twilight tried to nurse her injury, but both of her hooves failed to obey the command. She managed to open one eye. Wherever she was wasn't well lit. Both of her hooves were tied to the ceiling. With some effort, Twilight recovered from the hit and turned her head back in place.

The emerald green eyes of Applejack met her with the intensity as ever before. The Stetson still firmly resting on her head. Behind the former farmer was a table, with a dozen odd items on it. A pony's skull was probably the most eye-catching. With a loud huff, Applejack turned her attention to the table.

"Applejack.." Twilight coughed and scratched on "..I'm sorry for killing Applebloom!" The words fell on deaf ears as Applejack took the skull and eyed it. She removed her hat and swiftly slid the skull around her own head. The ravaged back part of it made it to be most likely Applebloom's small skull. Applejack turned, exposing the front. Several symbols were painted around the eyes with a deep red paint that sent out the concept of rage.

Applejack clopped her hooves together once in response. She then proceeded to get abnormally close to Twilight's face. The eye-sockets were occupied, but not by the familiar homely emerald green, but by a hateful shade of orange. Moments passed in pure silence, until Applejack suddenly reared her head back and headbutted Twilight, causing to yelp in pain and her vision to blur. The disgruntled mare then began beating Twilight with a series of hits and blows, not pausing in the pummel. Leaving Twilight in a state of near unconsciousness and bruises all alongside her snout and exposed body. Huffing angrily with each blow.

Just as it seemed it would never cease, it stopped and a comforting hoof landed on her shoulder. "All done, Twilight." A friendly voice said as Twilight felt her hooves being untied and scooped up. "Let's get you washed and fed, Lady Twilight".

Imperial wetted the rag and applied it to the deeply bruised face of Twilight. After Vicious Juake was finished, the now disguised guard carried Twilight back to their less then significant abode with two small bowls of stew and bread. The guard cooed Twilight awake long enough to eat for a moment. Her jaw wasn't in good condition, but she manged taking small sips of the admittedly finely-cooked stew and scarce bites. The room didn't have anything inside, so they both laid down on the sand. Vicious Juake was obviously ready to garner some vengeance.

Vicious Juake was. as he was led to believe, someone dear to Chieftain Avixel. Early during Val and when Alt was beginning to form, Magic-Eater Celestia suspected Avixel would fuel The Faithful later and attempted to consume the farming family without resistance. When they refused, she sent Lady Twilight to overseer the burning of their home and fields. Vicious Juake was in the barn and apparently suffocated from the flames. In her rage and desperation, Avixel brought the body to Lord's High Champion. In exchange for her services, The Prophet transferred the soul of Vicious Juake entirely into the skull Avixel has. Since then, Avixel and Juake remained close, almost to a sisterly extent.

The shack bore little in means of protection from the cold or sand. Large gaps between each of the aged wood planks allowed the cold air in. Twilight's thread-bare robe offered her some defense. He put her stew down and proceeded to feast upon his as Imperial scooted a bit closer, intent on sharing their collective warmth. Despite being quite impaired, the changeling admitted to himself that Lady Twilight remained attractive throughout the benefiting years. Imperial's face grew a tad red as she flopped onto her back and nested deeper into the sand beneath them, becoming comfortable.

Looking for an excuse to move, Imperial swiftly relocated outside on the worn down porch. The town's population was asleep and only a few guarding buffalo roamed the street. Their massive, hair-coated body easily intimidated trespassers yet, the few pones still traversing the road, likely from the local watering-hole, stumbled causally. The cracked moon hanging on the stars themselves lit the way.

Imperial, lacking of anything to do, decided to inform the Frozen North that they were gradually coming. The changeling reached down and scooped up sand in his cupped hooves, and with a small prayer containing the message, blew it away. it was instantly taken by the light wind and flew high until Imperial couldn't even see it. Moving roughly in the direction of the far-away kingdom of crystal.

Imperial went back in and fell asleep.