Mark of Baen

Twilight blinked in surprise at what Spike had just finished telling her.  Ever since the baby dragon had been unpetrified, he started rambling in detail on what exactly happened to him.  Though at first he said it was hazy in memory, it slowly started coming back to him as he explained.  Apparently, a mare had come asking for the book Twilight had brought from the Castle of The Two Sisters had actually belonged to somepony at some point, and she had wanted it back.  But when Spike told her of the books fate, she didn’t take it too well.  Not only did this anger Twilight, but it also caused her some minor intrigue.  Who was this mare?  And where did she get off attacking her assistant who was practically her little brother?

“Spike, are you sure what you’re telling me is the truth,” she stated slowly, “Because this is quite serious.”

Spike nodded frantically, “Of course I’m serious!  I wouldn’t lie about something like this!”

Rarity gently pet his head to calm him, “It’s alright Spikey, the bad mare is gone.”

Spike shivered, “I…I just can’t get those eyes out of my head.  Rarity, they were like yours when that spell took you over,” he looked at her in genuine fear, “but there was nothing in them, just hate and anger!”

Rainbow snorted, “Alright, I say we track this mare down and give her an old fashioned flank kicking for attacking Spike!  Who’s with me?”

Twilight raised a forehoof in a calming gesture, “Dash, now’s not the time,” she tapped her chin.

Rainbow blinked in shock, “Not the time?!  Twilight, whoever that mare is, she’s out there somewhere running loose and you’re saying now’s not the time!”

Applejack went over to Twilight, “Twilight, what exactly are you thinking?”

Twilight’s brow creased in concentration, “Think about it, a mystery mare appearing and attacking Spike.  Baen mysteriously gone on vacation after getting back, and even Vinyl and Cheerilee are gone.  This all has to be connected.”

Rarity looked out one of the castle’s windows and looked to Baen’s hilltop home.

“Well dear, if I might be so bold, don’t you have a spell that can possibly reach our barbarian friend?”

Twilight nodded for a moment, “Yes, I think I do.  But it might take a bit to fire up.”

*

Everypony was speechless as they stared at the suit of practically sentient armor.  Shining was at Baen’s side and stood with him.

“Did you say Lancelot?  That can’t be him,” he looked to the stoic armor, “He’d be ancient by now….or…dead.”

Baen looked to Shining, “Don’t be so surprised.  I’ve seen something like this before.”

Gilda raised an eyebrow, “You’ve seen this before?”

Baen nodded, “Ai.  When a pony’s spirit is strong enough, even its will, sometimes it can stay anchored to the world until its restless spirit is put at ease.  Usually it’s anchored to some sort of physical object that it once owned, in this case, Lancelot’s armor.”

Cheerilee started to tremble, “Is it a ghost?”

“No, ghosts are vengeful, always driven by anger and spite, usually they have unfinished business.  This is a phantom or some sort of phantasm.  A spectral being that has retained all of its memories, still has its thoughts, and in some rare cases can physically manifest,” he tilted his head and put two and two together, “it seems our good sir knight wishes to still do his duty, even in death.  Tell me Sir Lancelot,” the armor creaked, “Are you here to guard your sword from those who wish to take it?”

The armor seemed to pause, before nodding.

Shining clicked his tongue, “So…what’s the game plan?”

Baen looked at Lancelot, then to Arondight, then the surrounding area.

“Hm…,” he gestured to the area, “notice the shape of this area?  The size of this bridge?”

Flash realized it straight away, “It’s like a small dueling arena.”

Baen nodded, “It seems Lancelot will not part with his sword unless it’s won.”

Lancelot stepped forward, the armor clanking loudly.

Gilda cracked her talons and nudged past the two stallions, “Don’t sweat it, I can take this chump.”

Baen stepped forward, “Wait Gilda, don’t attack him half cocked!”

Gilda let loose a screech and dove at the knight.  As the griffon dove through the air, the knight moved like the wind.  He tilted himself to the side dodging the blow intended for him, Gilda turned her head in disbelief, and then the armored hoof grasped her below the neck.  Lancelot plucked her out of mid-air and slammed her to the ground, hard.  Gilda twitched for a mere second before moaning in pain.  Baen nodded for a moment, and then stepped forward.

“If you are a knight, remove your helmet,” Baen’s expression was as hard as steel as the knight before him paused, “do you accept to face me as a warrior?  Or do you seek to hide your eyes from mine?”

Lancelot reached up and removed his helmet.  In that instance, there was a flash of bright white.  Baen and everyone present shielded their eyes.  When they opened their eyes, all gawked.  Before them now was a stallion clothed in his armor.  The outline of the stallion’s body that was exposed shimmered like that of a lakes surface.  The stallion’s blue steel eyes fixed on Baen as he placed his hoof to his chest and stated in a trottingham accent.

“I am Lancelot of The Lake, Knight of Canterlot,” his gaze was unbreaking.

Baen stepped fully onto the bridge, Shining quickly retrieving Gilda and escorting her off of it and quickly joining the others.

“I am Baen, Barbarian of Equestria.  Friend to the Elements of Harmony, aid in the defeat of the tyrant Tirek, and destroyer of the Four Harbingers,” he stated with pride in response to Lancelot’s introduction.

Lancelot raised an eyebrow, “The Elements of Harmony?  Tirek?  Such boasts, though you call yourself a warrior, you lack humility sir.”

Baen snorted, “They are not boasts.  They are facts.  I will only ask once, stand aside knight, a great evil seeks your sword and the swords of your comrades.  We need it to best our foe.”

Lancelot shook his head, “I cannot.  I will only yield to two kinds of ponies.  My king, and the one who can best my sword which I am sad to say, you are neither.”

Baen narrowed his eyes, “You’re so sure of yourself?  But I have news for you, one,” he placed his axe beside him with a bit of a smirk, “I do not wield a sword, and two, I’ve beaten your kind before.”

Lancelot had a ghost of a smile on his face, “Oh?”

Baen nodded, “Knights were not an uncommon thing in my time.  A bunch of ponies in armor seeking glory in the name of their king and or queen, but in the end, they all yield.”

Lancelot held his head high, “As I said before, your humility is lacking, but I commend your spirit.  But unfortunately, I also must state a truth of my own.  I have felled many of your kind.”

Baen raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“It is true,” Lancelot trotted until he was an inch from Baen’s face, “Ponies such as you who value might over valor.  Those who throw your weight around and fight only using words, it’s as the old saying goes,” Lancelot’s steeled expression seemed to sharpen, “the weakest dog will bark the loudest.”

  Baen’s eyes flared red as he grabbed his axe and swung hard at Lancelot, who deftly dodged the attack with a backflip.

“Anger, a powerful force,” Lancelot chided, “But also, an exploitable weakness.”

Gilda looked at the two, “It’s like what he said to me…”

Baen growled as he hefted his weapon, “Doesn’t seem fair, I’m armed, and your weapon is in a rock.”

Lancelot chuckled, “You think so?  You are familiar with my name, but tell me, are you familiar with my legend?”

Baen focused on his foe as Lancelot stared into his very soul.

“When I was born, my father told me that I was blessed by The Lake,” Lancelot paced, “My father King Ban, he was known for spinning the occasional fable, but this story rang with absolute truth.  For you see, Baen of Equestria, The Lake gave me this blessing.”

He cleared his throat, “Should I ever be without a weapon, I would wield a weapon as great as any steel.”

Baen froze in place as he heard something….rushing water.

Lancelot’s armor seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light, light like that of seafoam permeated the air.

“The lake would give me steel,” Lancelot’s voice then rose to a commanding tone, “The lake, Is. My. Steel!”

On those last three words, the water around them surged and frothed.  Lancelot stared evenly at Baen as a lone jet of water shot out and arched in front of the Knight’s face.  The water then froze in mid-air and changed.  Its shape vaguely resembled that of a longsword, the crossguard and handle hardening to a solid shape.  The blade taking form, yet still moved as if it were liquid, the cross guard and handle hardened and changed to a dark navy blue.  The blade then became as black as the murky depths themselves, but still retained a liquid sheen and appearance.  The Lake Sword levitated before Lancelot, compelled by his will, like that of a unicorn manipulating an object.

“Now do you see barbarian,” Lancelot willed the sword to flourish, the sword making a metallic hiss as it sliced through the air.

Baen rushed forward, “All I see is magic, magic that I intend to get past!”

Lancelot shook his head in disappointment, “Foolishness.”

Baen went to swing, but in a flash, he cried out in pain.  The blade of The Lake Sword embedded itself in his shoulder.  The coldness like frigid water and the sting of steel wracked the wound as the blade was pulled free.  Baen backed up in shock as he looked at his bleeding wound.

“What….what kind of magic is this?!”

Lancelot pointed the tip of his blade at Baen’s throat, “A magic far stronger than yours.”

Baen growled as he righted himself.

“Have at thee, Baen.”