Dark Ponies: The Fragility of Soulsby StarShineFoxChaptersInto the VoidA Place BetwixtA New Bag, A New ResolveDesolate Place of HopeInto the VoidMy name is Ayrle, that is the only thing I am certain of. I have a family somewhere I am sure, although where or even who they are eludes me. I believe the land I am from is named Equestria, although even that name provokes a harsh shard of doubt to slice through me. I have a talent in magics too, I think. Why else would I be clasping a thin ivory staff, unless I somehow find it useful to use as a mere club. A cold, obsidian dagger rested in a belt attached to my side, a backup in case whatever magic I used was not enough. A curious man stood beside me, towering high above me as we stood before a beautiful body of silver water, glistening softly in the tranquil moonlight. We had been travelling for as long as my memory spans, meeting just outside the borders of his town. He was clad in tough leather, heavy looking claymore held firmly sheathed against his side, years of battle carved deeply into both man and sword. He had no intention of telling me his name, although he has probably merely forgotten the word. He seemed the type that would be too proud to admit this. This curse of our does that, slowly draining our memories and passions for life until our souls barely even shimmer and we beg for death. But we will never truly die, no amount of pleading will change this, no amount of swords through our chest will end us. This is perhaps why we are so feared. The authorities have no way of destroying or containing us and no one can understand any of what is happening. The streets have become awash with those slowly but surely falling into a black pit of despair, a sight that only claims more of the poor unfortunate’s souls. I was broken out of my thoughts by my fellow cursed. He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes scanning over my form. His gaze washed over my long, fluffy, turquoise hair, tufts poking out at impossible angles before staring straight into my large amethyst eyes, confusion settling deep into his face. “You’re a pony.” I rolled my eyes, a lazy gaze returning his stare, my eyebrows held aloft in an incredulous expression. ‘We’ve been travelling all this time, and only now you realise that the violet equine trotting beside you is in fact a pony. You are quite possibly the slowest human I’ve ever met.’ He backed up, startled, his frantic eyes locked distrustfully onto me. “You can speak? You’re a multicoloured miniature horse that can actually speak?” ‘I can’t speak, genius. I’m from the East.’ I pointed a hoof at an ugly brand burnt deep into my left cheek. The authorities in the lands I was from thought silencing us ‘undead’ would cease the steady creep of our curse. It had not worked as intended, instead adding further despair to the unafflicted as the cursed count visibly grew. ‘I’m a unicorn, that was telepathy. Your human fairy tales are correct; we are an elegant, magical race fit only for the most kingly of souls. You may kiss my hooves in apology now.’ The human scoffed, turning away from me to gaze back over the calm waters, a solemn look upon his face. “The East, how unfortunate. Someone important to me travelled there, I think. I’ve tried to remember who, but each time, the memory just clouds further.” His eyes dampened, the light hitting them casting a sad glow upon his hard features. I nuzzled his leg in an attempt to provide what little comfort a fluffy taking unicorn could. He smiled weakly down at me, sighing softly. “As much as it pains me to say this, thank you, you obnoxiously pretentious horse. I guess my past life isn’t important now. ” I whimpered softly at that truth, turning back towards the lake beyond us. A harsh wind whipped through the area, forming small ripples on the surface of the water. ‘I’m going to break this curse to make it important again.’ My voice was a quiet determination in his mind. ‘I don’t know how I got here. I can’t remember why I am alone in a world of humans or when this curse even got to me, but I will find out and I will get back home. I’m certain there are ponies that were close to me left wondering where I am, possibly even searching for me. I will return to them.’ I sighed softly, lowering my head, my thick mane hanging low, obscuring my tear-filled eyes from sight. ‘I just hope that they will remember who Ayrle is.’ I felt a hand on my head as the wind picked up, a deafening roar filling the area, the moon’s light shifting to a sickly red glow. I looked up, the harsh light of thousands of fireflies previously hidden away swarmed around us, buffeting us with their tiny wing beats. They circled around the centre of the lake as a door beyond them shuddered opened, shaking the dust from its crevices. The door was half open when it was suddenly flung open by the force of thousands of souls gushing out, swallowing the fireflies as they enacted their own grim rendition of the circular dance. The water whipped up to spiral with their movements, black waves swirling until the lake had fully transformed into a singular whirlpool. My breath caught in my throat as I glanced to my companion. He had subconsciously moved to the edge of the water. He teetered gingerly on the edge of our world, staring into the bottomless maw. He glanced back at me, his eyes beckoning me to join him. Without quite knowing why, my legs moved, my hooves against stone the only sound besides the rushing of the waves. “See you on the other side.” He grinned at me before throwing himself into the maelstrom. Immediately, my own body followed. Neither of us touched the sides as our worlds were left to rot as a distant memory. A Place BetwixtI landed hard on my left flank, the impact on solid stone forcing the breath from my throat. I lay there for what seemed like hours, yet it could easily have been mere seconds. Somehow I managed to stand, my left side thankfully not seriously damaged. That’s when I noticed I was alone. There was no sign I had met that curious human, or even carried any weapons. My treasured staff had shattered into fine dust, settling gently in the faint breeze, the residue of the powerful arcane held within leaving a familiar tingle down my spine before fading completely. Looking around, I observed my surroundings, taking note of the sheer drops almost completely surrounding me before taking a tentative step forwards into the soft, knee deep grass, the long fronds brushing against my coat, crunching slightly under-hoof. Continuing forwards into the inky landscape, I moved towards the only part of this desolate area not threatening to drop me into an abyss should I misstep. A single shaft of light beckoned me forwards, the stone arch it fell upon glinting softly, lighting my way. I crossed under the arch, the grass rising to obscure my view. From what I could see, I was stood in another large, open area, thick grass digging into my flesh, tugging at my fur. I could hear creatures scuttling about in the grass, moving slowly towards me cautiously. I stood my ground, horn lowered and ready to defend myself should they consider me a threat. Minutes passed as we stared each other down, neither of us moving either towards or away from the other. I could see numerous wide, curious eyes shine back at me as they watched my lack of movements, the tilting of their heads their only movements. Cautiously, I moved forwards, jumping back startled as they scattered, whimpering as I moved. Deciding the timid creatures were no threat, I moved forwards cautiously, the grass obscuring my view. There did not seem to be any sheer drops in this area, tall cliffs of white stone preventing the strange creatures contained within from plummeting to their untimely demise. As soon as I found the exit, I bolted out, the eyes of the countless creatures making my skin crawl beneath my thick fur. I skidded to a halt in front of another thin yet perilous drop, a small waterfall crashing thunderously to the ground somewhere far beneath me. I felt the ground quiver slightly beneath my hooves, the vibrations running from my left to right. I turned my head to investigate, my breath catching in my throat as I saw a trail of large footprints etched deep in the black mud. Warily, I trotted past them, crossing the unstable looking wooden bridge, placing each hoof carefully down, ready to jump should the structure collapse under my weight. Thankfully, I made it across without even a creek; the shabby looking thing was surprisingly sturdy. As my back hooves graced solid ground once more, I looked up. Before me stood a quaint little hut, the warm glow from a fire seeping from a small window, providing a small relief from the cold blackness of the rest of this strange world I had traversed prior. Cautiously, I nudged the door with a hoof. It did not yield, so I gripped it gently with my magic, pulling it slowly open before peering into the room that lay beyond. Inside sat three old ladies dressed in matching red robes, their wrinkled faces illuminated by the fire crackling gently in the fireplace. Two of them sat around the table, jet black glasses sat empty before them as they regarded me with milky white eyes, rotten teeth bared as they chuckled softly to themselves. The third sat away from the table, facing the fire. Her back was turned to face me, the firelight casting her shadow across the room, connecting her to me. “Greetings, young undead.” The hag by the fire croaked, her voice echoing harshly in the small room. “We’ve been expecting you.” ‘You have?’ “Telepathy, what an interesting skill you have there.” She chuckled as she ignored my remark, her red robes fluttering as she turned to face me, shadows cast harshly across her aged features. She beckoned me to join her by the fire. Uneasily, I obliged, my hoof steps surprisingly loud against the soft wood underfoot, all three of the hags grinning as their unseeing eyes followed my path. I sat by the fire, my fur grateful for the first warmth it could remember. “Who are you, young one?” ‘I am Ayrle, a sorcerer from the East.’ “Sorcery, eh?” I nodded, affirming via telepathy as I was unsure of the intactness of their sight. The hag before me beckoned to a fourth younger woman whom had just descended a small flight of stairs I had previously not seen. She was also dressed in red, although her clothing was a deeper colour worn as a form fitting dress instead of loose robes. She bowed awkwardly to me, evidently surprised by the strange, brightly coloured equine sat nonchalantly by the fire. I lifted a hoof in a casual wave, causing her brow to wrinkle in confusion. “Strowen, this… horse is a sorcerer?” The one by the fire chuckled, nodding in response. “I see… I’m afraid I do not posses any armour in equine size.” ‘I see. I should be fine without, provided of course, I could get a staff?’ The young lady’s eyes widened slightly before nodding and heading back up the stairs. I shifted slightly whilst waiting for her return, rotating my body to warm the other side of my body, the warmth returning life to my cold bones. Eventually, the stairs creaked, signally the lady’s return. She carried a slender stick, a beautiful deep chestnut in colour and a sleek, silvery dagger with an ornately carved black hilt. I could feel the arcane stirring slightly in it, its magic reaching out gently to my horn. It wasn’t much, but I could channel magic through it. The lady finally introduced herself as Millibeth, caretakers of these old keepers of fire seated around me, as she handed me the simple staff and silver dagger. I held the staff daintily in the grip of my telekinesis, ingraining my magic into the soft wood, carving small runes along its length that would allow me to convert my relatively weak magic into something that could be used to survive whatever this strange world had in store for me. Milibeth bowed to me as I stood up, bowing my head in return before walking to the closed door before me. The firekeeper named Strowen called out to me as my magic took hold of the door. I turned around, the door shimmering with magic, blinking as Strowen threw a black mass of weaved material to me. My reflexes kicked in as my magic enveloped it. I tilted my head in confusion at the old figure hunched by the fire. “Normally we would make undead perceive this to be themselves, but since you are a horse, please accept this effigy of a human as a gift.” I nodded hesitantly, standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, magic spread between the door, my new weapons and the effigy. It didn’t take long for the magical grip to falter and fail, the items held in the air clattering to the ground. I had to sit, exhausted as my magical stamina recharged. The firekeepers cackled as Milibeth moved next to me, concerned, fussing over me. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ Milibeth moved back as I stood up, a glint in my eye as an idea formed. ‘You wouldn't happen to have any leather spare would you?’ A New Bag, A New ResolveHours or possibly even minutes later, I trotted out of the small house, straps of leather bound together to form a makeshift saddlebag. Like a normal saddlebag it was slung over my back, thick pouches resting against my flank to hold all manner of useful things I would find in this world. Unlike most other standard saddlebags, however, it strapped tightly underneath my body, holding it securely against me. Along these thick straps were further adjustable straps that allowed me to store my weapons when they were unneeded. The final thin strap of leather was tied loosely around my neck. Threaded upon this was the effigy Strowen had gifted me. It seemed to have no real use to me, yet it seemed to comfort me and served to remind me of my goal. I shut the door behind me; muting the cackles of the other firekeepers and plunging myself back into a softer darkness before turning to face the small hollow I was stood in. The first thing I noticed was an archway constructed of the groaning trunks of many great trees, their bark withered and peeling. I could barely see into the archway, noting one small twist in the path that lay beyond, framed by what must have been an impressive forest before age withered it into a grove of husks. However, before I ventured forwards, I felt myself drawn to a pile of human bones through which an old rusted sword was impaled. Curious, I moved towards it, my magic sparkling on the belt that held my newly acquired staff. As I got nearer, the pull this strange object had on me grew exponentially, feeling as if it would tear me apart if I did not touch the hilt on the sword. As if in a trance, my hoof moved of its own volition, slowly closing the gap between myself and the sword. When my hoof was hovering delicately above the hilt, the crumbling bones suddenly flared with a great burst of heat, knocking me back, startled. The flames roared violently as I withdrew before settling into a gently flickering. Curious once more, I moved back towards the fire, gasping in surprised delight as the flames seemed to warm my soul. I rested for as short a time as I dared, restoring my strength before standing back up, facing the withered tree arch once more. Magic playing gently at the straps surrounding my staff, I stepped forwards, a dreadful chill immediately settling deeply in my body, my fur standing erect as I shivered violently. It warmed me enough to enable me to push forwards, trotting as quickly as I dared through the twisting path, eventually emerging in a thin yet open area, patches of long grass scattered throughout the area, possibly hiding deadly falls from those careless enough to not check. I could not see any other living creature, my eyes darting around the area, drinking in the situation I was in. Scattered around the edge of the expanse of rock I was stood upon were multiple large trees, their insides hollowed out, large gates constructed of a thick white fog obscuring their insides. Further down, the path twisted suddenly, a withered husk of a tree barely holding on to ground separated from me via a drop that would plunge those who missed their step straight into a murky black water, the force of the fall likely enough to instantly end the poor soul’s life. At the end of the split path, there was a sheer cliff wall composed of solid stone, one small crack similar in size to the arch I had used to enter this area letting in a thin shaft of light. I decided to ignore the white fog as they were unlikely to hold any answers to any of my questions. Seeing no hostiles between myself and that crack, I galloped forwards, swerving to avoid breaks in the ground. I almost managed to run straight off the cliff in my haste, but I managed to teleport at the last moment, tumbling to a stop in order to calm down and regain control of my breathing before setting off again at a slower pace. It did not take too long to get to the cliff face. As I got closer, the area warmed slowly, urging me to press forwards. I stopped before the crack, looking up as I realised that what I thought was a relatively small crevice was in fact a large split in the rock, stretching far above me and winding seemingly endlessly before me. My hoof tingled warmly as I carefully stepped forwards, the sensation racing through my body. Unsheathing my dagger with my magic, I started to gallop again. My lithe body flashed through the stony walls, my magic leaving a short glowing trail behind my dagger as I held it out in front of me. As I ran, the warmth that flowed through me grew hotter and hotter, eventually peaking in an extraordinary climax of brilliance as I burst out of the cave into a golden light, the sheer brightness of everything blinding me as I swerved to a stop, collapsing in a heap of sparkling amethyst fur, the dagger clattering to the golden stones in front of me, its immaculate blade reflecting the same harsh golden light. Desolate Place of HopeI was unsure how long I had lain on those hot rocks, the evening sun remaining low in the sky, beating down on my exposed flank, yet when I awoke, I had been moved to a blissful shade. I was lying on a stone plinth, cool rock beneath me soothing what hot rock had seared. I lifted my head to attempt to get my bearings; I was in what appeared to be a small, run-down settlement, wooden houses lay shattered amongst overgrown grass and assorted rocks embedded into the crusty ground. As I made to stand up, a voice from my left startled me. I panicked, backing up off the cool stone, rolling to my hooves to confront the voice. “Woah now, I didn’t mean to startle you!” The voice returned, a gruff attempt at a soothing tone attempting to calm me down. I looked at the source of the voice; a man roughly the same age as my previous companion, thick black hair clumped scruffily around his face, chainmail glinting as he stepped back into the light. “My name’s Saulden, I won’t hurt you.” ‘Greetings then, Saulden. Where might this be?’ “This is Majula” he responded proudly before emitting a startled choke. “Wait, you’re a pony and-” ‘And telepathy, yup.’ I responded, broadcasting the fact to the rest of the town, bored. ‘That realisation is starting to get old, fast.’ Saulden nodded, clearing his throat. “I take it you’re new here? If so, welcome to Drangleic, Miss…” ‘My name is Ayrle. Pleasure to meet you.’ “And you.” He bowed low, fascination still gleaming in his eyes before he gestured to a figure dressed in a deep green cloak, staring out across the ocean that lapped at the cliff atop which Majula was situated. “You’ll want to speak with that lady. She’s known as the Emerald Herald, she helps travellers that still want to be helped. That haven’t realised the only thing that can be done about this curse of ours is to accept the inevitable. Those that think they still have a chance at breaking it.” ‘That would be me then. Good day, sir.’ I trotted off down the stone steps that led down into the main body of Majula, taking in the view as I did so. I could see a total of three run-down wooden buildings and one larger, less damaged structure. Closer to the steps I was descending from, another of the curious bone and sword piles stood, unlit. Why had no-one lit the thing? I moved towards the lady Saulden had pointed out. As I got near, she bowed her head slightly, still facing the great ocean. “Are you here to become the next monarch, young undead?” she questioned, her voice song-like as it graced my ears. ‘I am here merely to break the curse, ma’am.’ A sigh escaped her lips as she turned to face me, green eye glinting softly in the permanently setting sun. “I see. Very well then, please allow me to assist you in your journey. Please, take this.” She opened a small pouch on her waist, pulling out a small green flask that seemed dull against her palm, even in the golden evening light. “This flask contains Estus, or it would had the bonfire not gone out. Please allow it to help you.” ‘Bonfire?’ I asked, confused, before pointing a hoof at the pile of bones ‘Is that what these are known as?’ “You are correct, young undead.” I followed as she walked towards it, her cape trailing daintily along the ground. “It responds to hope. That is why none of the lost souls here can light it. Please, you try.” ‘I see, these things are beacons of hope, because they require hope…’ I mused, placing my hoof above the bonfire. It roared into life, a green shell of a man raising his head from beside one of the ruined buildings. “This flame is known as the far fire. It was named as such since it is the furthest flame from the strife you will face in this land. But no matter where you are, so long as you have hope, these flames will react to you. Please remember that, young one.” The Herald smiled softly, before acknowledging the man whom had reacted to the life of the flame. “That man is named Lenigrast. He is a blacksmith who has lost everything in this world. It would benefit you to help him.” ‘Thank you for your help, ma’am.’ The Emerald Herald smiled as I bowed my head before trotting over to Lenigrast. As I approached, he scowled. His skin was a tight green leather pulled taut over a strongly defined body, his eyes the milky white of one close to hollowing. “Leave me alone.” A gruff voice emanated from the blacksmith, “Your kind isn’t welcome here. Just let me Hollow in peace.” ‘Nope. I wish to aid you, my good sir.’ “And what can a foal help me with. Scram.” ‘Hey, I’m not a foal. You may be one shove away from going Hollow, but that doesn’t give you the right to be foul to those wanting to assist. Now tell me what’s gotten you so green.’ A hefty sigh erupted from Lenigrast’s chest. “Well, if helping me will get you to leave me alone, find me the key to this place. I left my tools in here and without them I can’t be doing any smithing. My work and my daughter is all I have left and that foolish girl’s run off somewhere, and since I won’t see her again…” He broke off, a hint of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Look, just get me the key to this place. Then we can talk.” ‘Got it, sir. One key, coming up.’ “Don’t call me sir. I’m not old.” A chuckle escaped as I bid the old blacksmith a farewell, trotting off to investigate the other houses. I checked the larger of the three first, my magic pushing and pulling at the stubborn iron door, yet it would not yield. I probed the keyhole with a pulse of magic. It was locked tightly, the mechanism in these Drangleic locks far too advanced for my magic to pick. Sighing, I moved to the building to the left, its entrance was unobstructed by any door. I almost missed the shadow of a man curled up in the corner between two counters scattered with shoddy armour. I cleared my throat gently, startling the man into sitting up and paying me attention. “G-good day!” He stuttered, bowing repeatedly. “Please, miss, please buy something!” ‘I’m sorry, my good sir, but I haven’t any coin. I’m new to this land. Even in my past land I had not a penny to my name.’ “O-oh no, ma’am, coins are worthless here, it’s souls we trade for!” The merchant seemed to be gaining a little more confidence in speaking to me, although he was still keeping his body as small as he could without being disrespectful. ‘You trade in... souls? How does that work?’ “W-well, every creature in this land has a soul, even most of us in Majula! When you end their existence, their souls flow from their body into yours. You can release and trade these souls at will, or the Herald can bind them to your own soul to gain more power, although…” ‘Although?’ I urged, before his first sentence hit me ‘and only most of Majula? Some of them have no soul?’ “A-although I’d like it if you’d purchase from me instead of adding power.” Sweat was forming rapidly on the merchant’s brow, his eye twitching. “As for the second… most of the creatures in this land can sense if a creature has a soul. There are two in this place that do not.. The Herald and lovely Shalquoir do not have this… And you… I cannot tell if you have a soul, this is most peculiar…” ‘I… I see…’ My telepathy was quiet in the merchant’s head as I turned to walk slowly out of the shop, my mind running from the implications of his words. ‘Thank you, mr..?’ “Maughlin.” ‘I see. My name is Ayrle. I’ll mention your shop to whomever I meet. I won’t be needing anything material from you.’
Into the VoidMy name is Ayrle, that is the only thing I am certain of. I have a family somewhere I am sure, although where or even who they are eludes me. I believe the land I am from is named Equestria, although even that name provokes a harsh shard of doubt to slice through me. I have a talent in magics too, I think. Why else would I be clasping a thin ivory staff, unless I somehow find it useful to use as a mere club. A cold, obsidian dagger rested in a belt attached to my side, a backup in case whatever magic I used was not enough. A curious man stood beside me, towering high above me as we stood before a beautiful body of silver water, glistening softly in the tranquil moonlight. We had been travelling for as long as my memory spans, meeting just outside the borders of his town. He was clad in tough leather, heavy looking claymore held firmly sheathed against his side, years of battle carved deeply into both man and sword. He had no intention of telling me his name, although he has probably merely forgotten the word. He seemed the type that would be too proud to admit this. This curse of our does that, slowly draining our memories and passions for life until our souls barely even shimmer and we beg for death. But we will never truly die, no amount of pleading will change this, no amount of swords through our chest will end us. This is perhaps why we are so feared. The authorities have no way of destroying or containing us and no one can understand any of what is happening. The streets have become awash with those slowly but surely falling into a black pit of despair, a sight that only claims more of the poor unfortunate’s souls. I was broken out of my thoughts by my fellow cursed. He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes scanning over my form. His gaze washed over my long, fluffy, turquoise hair, tufts poking out at impossible angles before staring straight into my large amethyst eyes, confusion settling deep into his face. “You’re a pony.” I rolled my eyes, a lazy gaze returning his stare, my eyebrows held aloft in an incredulous expression. ‘We’ve been travelling all this time, and only now you realise that the violet equine trotting beside you is in fact a pony. You are quite possibly the slowest human I’ve ever met.’ He backed up, startled, his frantic eyes locked distrustfully onto me. “You can speak? You’re a multicoloured miniature horse that can actually speak?” ‘I can’t speak, genius. I’m from the East.’ I pointed a hoof at an ugly brand burnt deep into my left cheek. The authorities in the lands I was from thought silencing us ‘undead’ would cease the steady creep of our curse. It had not worked as intended, instead adding further despair to the unafflicted as the cursed count visibly grew. ‘I’m a unicorn, that was telepathy. Your human fairy tales are correct; we are an elegant, magical race fit only for the most kingly of souls. You may kiss my hooves in apology now.’ The human scoffed, turning away from me to gaze back over the calm waters, a solemn look upon his face. “The East, how unfortunate. Someone important to me travelled there, I think. I’ve tried to remember who, but each time, the memory just clouds further.” His eyes dampened, the light hitting them casting a sad glow upon his hard features. I nuzzled his leg in an attempt to provide what little comfort a fluffy taking unicorn could. He smiled weakly down at me, sighing softly. “As much as it pains me to say this, thank you, you obnoxiously pretentious horse. I guess my past life isn’t important now. ” I whimpered softly at that truth, turning back towards the lake beyond us. A harsh wind whipped through the area, forming small ripples on the surface of the water. ‘I’m going to break this curse to make it important again.’ My voice was a quiet determination in his mind. ‘I don’t know how I got here. I can’t remember why I am alone in a world of humans or when this curse even got to me, but I will find out and I will get back home. I’m certain there are ponies that were close to me left wondering where I am, possibly even searching for me. I will return to them.’ I sighed softly, lowering my head, my thick mane hanging low, obscuring my tear-filled eyes from sight. ‘I just hope that they will remember who Ayrle is.’ I felt a hand on my head as the wind picked up, a deafening roar filling the area, the moon’s light shifting to a sickly red glow. I looked up, the harsh light of thousands of fireflies previously hidden away swarmed around us, buffeting us with their tiny wing beats. They circled around the centre of the lake as a door beyond them shuddered opened, shaking the dust from its crevices. The door was half open when it was suddenly flung open by the force of thousands of souls gushing out, swallowing the fireflies as they enacted their own grim rendition of the circular dance. The water whipped up to spiral with their movements, black waves swirling until the lake had fully transformed into a singular whirlpool. My breath caught in my throat as I glanced to my companion. He had subconsciously moved to the edge of the water. He teetered gingerly on the edge of our world, staring into the bottomless maw. He glanced back at me, his eyes beckoning me to join him. Without quite knowing why, my legs moved, my hooves against stone the only sound besides the rushing of the waves. “See you on the other side.” He grinned at me before throwing himself into the maelstrom. Immediately, my own body followed. Neither of us touched the sides as our worlds were left to rot as a distant memory.
A Place BetwixtI landed hard on my left flank, the impact on solid stone forcing the breath from my throat. I lay there for what seemed like hours, yet it could easily have been mere seconds. Somehow I managed to stand, my left side thankfully not seriously damaged. That’s when I noticed I was alone. There was no sign I had met that curious human, or even carried any weapons. My treasured staff had shattered into fine dust, settling gently in the faint breeze, the residue of the powerful arcane held within leaving a familiar tingle down my spine before fading completely. Looking around, I observed my surroundings, taking note of the sheer drops almost completely surrounding me before taking a tentative step forwards into the soft, knee deep grass, the long fronds brushing against my coat, crunching slightly under-hoof. Continuing forwards into the inky landscape, I moved towards the only part of this desolate area not threatening to drop me into an abyss should I misstep. A single shaft of light beckoned me forwards, the stone arch it fell upon glinting softly, lighting my way. I crossed under the arch, the grass rising to obscure my view. From what I could see, I was stood in another large, open area, thick grass digging into my flesh, tugging at my fur. I could hear creatures scuttling about in the grass, moving slowly towards me cautiously. I stood my ground, horn lowered and ready to defend myself should they consider me a threat. Minutes passed as we stared each other down, neither of us moving either towards or away from the other. I could see numerous wide, curious eyes shine back at me as they watched my lack of movements, the tilting of their heads their only movements. Cautiously, I moved forwards, jumping back startled as they scattered, whimpering as I moved. Deciding the timid creatures were no threat, I moved forwards cautiously, the grass obscuring my view. There did not seem to be any sheer drops in this area, tall cliffs of white stone preventing the strange creatures contained within from plummeting to their untimely demise. As soon as I found the exit, I bolted out, the eyes of the countless creatures making my skin crawl beneath my thick fur. I skidded to a halt in front of another thin yet perilous drop, a small waterfall crashing thunderously to the ground somewhere far beneath me. I felt the ground quiver slightly beneath my hooves, the vibrations running from my left to right. I turned my head to investigate, my breath catching in my throat as I saw a trail of large footprints etched deep in the black mud. Warily, I trotted past them, crossing the unstable looking wooden bridge, placing each hoof carefully down, ready to jump should the structure collapse under my weight. Thankfully, I made it across without even a creek; the shabby looking thing was surprisingly sturdy. As my back hooves graced solid ground once more, I looked up. Before me stood a quaint little hut, the warm glow from a fire seeping from a small window, providing a small relief from the cold blackness of the rest of this strange world I had traversed prior. Cautiously, I nudged the door with a hoof. It did not yield, so I gripped it gently with my magic, pulling it slowly open before peering into the room that lay beyond. Inside sat three old ladies dressed in matching red robes, their wrinkled faces illuminated by the fire crackling gently in the fireplace. Two of them sat around the table, jet black glasses sat empty before them as they regarded me with milky white eyes, rotten teeth bared as they chuckled softly to themselves. The third sat away from the table, facing the fire. Her back was turned to face me, the firelight casting her shadow across the room, connecting her to me. “Greetings, young undead.” The hag by the fire croaked, her voice echoing harshly in the small room. “We’ve been expecting you.” ‘You have?’ “Telepathy, what an interesting skill you have there.” She chuckled as she ignored my remark, her red robes fluttering as she turned to face me, shadows cast harshly across her aged features. She beckoned me to join her by the fire. Uneasily, I obliged, my hoof steps surprisingly loud against the soft wood underfoot, all three of the hags grinning as their unseeing eyes followed my path. I sat by the fire, my fur grateful for the first warmth it could remember. “Who are you, young one?” ‘I am Ayrle, a sorcerer from the East.’ “Sorcery, eh?” I nodded, affirming via telepathy as I was unsure of the intactness of their sight. The hag before me beckoned to a fourth younger woman whom had just descended a small flight of stairs I had previously not seen. She was also dressed in red, although her clothing was a deeper colour worn as a form fitting dress instead of loose robes. She bowed awkwardly to me, evidently surprised by the strange, brightly coloured equine sat nonchalantly by the fire. I lifted a hoof in a casual wave, causing her brow to wrinkle in confusion. “Strowen, this… horse is a sorcerer?” The one by the fire chuckled, nodding in response. “I see… I’m afraid I do not posses any armour in equine size.” ‘I see. I should be fine without, provided of course, I could get a staff?’ The young lady’s eyes widened slightly before nodding and heading back up the stairs. I shifted slightly whilst waiting for her return, rotating my body to warm the other side of my body, the warmth returning life to my cold bones. Eventually, the stairs creaked, signally the lady’s return. She carried a slender stick, a beautiful deep chestnut in colour and a sleek, silvery dagger with an ornately carved black hilt. I could feel the arcane stirring slightly in it, its magic reaching out gently to my horn. It wasn’t much, but I could channel magic through it. The lady finally introduced herself as Millibeth, caretakers of these old keepers of fire seated around me, as she handed me the simple staff and silver dagger. I held the staff daintily in the grip of my telekinesis, ingraining my magic into the soft wood, carving small runes along its length that would allow me to convert my relatively weak magic into something that could be used to survive whatever this strange world had in store for me. Milibeth bowed to me as I stood up, bowing my head in return before walking to the closed door before me. The firekeeper named Strowen called out to me as my magic took hold of the door. I turned around, the door shimmering with magic, blinking as Strowen threw a black mass of weaved material to me. My reflexes kicked in as my magic enveloped it. I tilted my head in confusion at the old figure hunched by the fire. “Normally we would make undead perceive this to be themselves, but since you are a horse, please accept this effigy of a human as a gift.” I nodded hesitantly, standing awkwardly in the centre of the room, magic spread between the door, my new weapons and the effigy. It didn’t take long for the magical grip to falter and fail, the items held in the air clattering to the ground. I had to sit, exhausted as my magical stamina recharged. The firekeepers cackled as Milibeth moved next to me, concerned, fussing over me. ‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ Milibeth moved back as I stood up, a glint in my eye as an idea formed. ‘You wouldn't happen to have any leather spare would you?’
A New Bag, A New ResolveHours or possibly even minutes later, I trotted out of the small house, straps of leather bound together to form a makeshift saddlebag. Like a normal saddlebag it was slung over my back, thick pouches resting against my flank to hold all manner of useful things I would find in this world. Unlike most other standard saddlebags, however, it strapped tightly underneath my body, holding it securely against me. Along these thick straps were further adjustable straps that allowed me to store my weapons when they were unneeded. The final thin strap of leather was tied loosely around my neck. Threaded upon this was the effigy Strowen had gifted me. It seemed to have no real use to me, yet it seemed to comfort me and served to remind me of my goal. I shut the door behind me; muting the cackles of the other firekeepers and plunging myself back into a softer darkness before turning to face the small hollow I was stood in. The first thing I noticed was an archway constructed of the groaning trunks of many great trees, their bark withered and peeling. I could barely see into the archway, noting one small twist in the path that lay beyond, framed by what must have been an impressive forest before age withered it into a grove of husks. However, before I ventured forwards, I felt myself drawn to a pile of human bones through which an old rusted sword was impaled. Curious, I moved towards it, my magic sparkling on the belt that held my newly acquired staff. As I got nearer, the pull this strange object had on me grew exponentially, feeling as if it would tear me apart if I did not touch the hilt on the sword. As if in a trance, my hoof moved of its own volition, slowly closing the gap between myself and the sword. When my hoof was hovering delicately above the hilt, the crumbling bones suddenly flared with a great burst of heat, knocking me back, startled. The flames roared violently as I withdrew before settling into a gently flickering. Curious once more, I moved back towards the fire, gasping in surprised delight as the flames seemed to warm my soul. I rested for as short a time as I dared, restoring my strength before standing back up, facing the withered tree arch once more. Magic playing gently at the straps surrounding my staff, I stepped forwards, a dreadful chill immediately settling deeply in my body, my fur standing erect as I shivered violently. It warmed me enough to enable me to push forwards, trotting as quickly as I dared through the twisting path, eventually emerging in a thin yet open area, patches of long grass scattered throughout the area, possibly hiding deadly falls from those careless enough to not check. I could not see any other living creature, my eyes darting around the area, drinking in the situation I was in. Scattered around the edge of the expanse of rock I was stood upon were multiple large trees, their insides hollowed out, large gates constructed of a thick white fog obscuring their insides. Further down, the path twisted suddenly, a withered husk of a tree barely holding on to ground separated from me via a drop that would plunge those who missed their step straight into a murky black water, the force of the fall likely enough to instantly end the poor soul’s life. At the end of the split path, there was a sheer cliff wall composed of solid stone, one small crack similar in size to the arch I had used to enter this area letting in a thin shaft of light. I decided to ignore the white fog as they were unlikely to hold any answers to any of my questions. Seeing no hostiles between myself and that crack, I galloped forwards, swerving to avoid breaks in the ground. I almost managed to run straight off the cliff in my haste, but I managed to teleport at the last moment, tumbling to a stop in order to calm down and regain control of my breathing before setting off again at a slower pace. It did not take too long to get to the cliff face. As I got closer, the area warmed slowly, urging me to press forwards. I stopped before the crack, looking up as I realised that what I thought was a relatively small crevice was in fact a large split in the rock, stretching far above me and winding seemingly endlessly before me. My hoof tingled warmly as I carefully stepped forwards, the sensation racing through my body. Unsheathing my dagger with my magic, I started to gallop again. My lithe body flashed through the stony walls, my magic leaving a short glowing trail behind my dagger as I held it out in front of me. As I ran, the warmth that flowed through me grew hotter and hotter, eventually peaking in an extraordinary climax of brilliance as I burst out of the cave into a golden light, the sheer brightness of everything blinding me as I swerved to a stop, collapsing in a heap of sparkling amethyst fur, the dagger clattering to the golden stones in front of me, its immaculate blade reflecting the same harsh golden light.
Desolate Place of HopeI was unsure how long I had lain on those hot rocks, the evening sun remaining low in the sky, beating down on my exposed flank, yet when I awoke, I had been moved to a blissful shade. I was lying on a stone plinth, cool rock beneath me soothing what hot rock had seared. I lifted my head to attempt to get my bearings; I was in what appeared to be a small, run-down settlement, wooden houses lay shattered amongst overgrown grass and assorted rocks embedded into the crusty ground. As I made to stand up, a voice from my left startled me. I panicked, backing up off the cool stone, rolling to my hooves to confront the voice. “Woah now, I didn’t mean to startle you!” The voice returned, a gruff attempt at a soothing tone attempting to calm me down. I looked at the source of the voice; a man roughly the same age as my previous companion, thick black hair clumped scruffily around his face, chainmail glinting as he stepped back into the light. “My name’s Saulden, I won’t hurt you.” ‘Greetings then, Saulden. Where might this be?’ “This is Majula” he responded proudly before emitting a startled choke. “Wait, you’re a pony and-” ‘And telepathy, yup.’ I responded, broadcasting the fact to the rest of the town, bored. ‘That realisation is starting to get old, fast.’ Saulden nodded, clearing his throat. “I take it you’re new here? If so, welcome to Drangleic, Miss…” ‘My name is Ayrle. Pleasure to meet you.’ “And you.” He bowed low, fascination still gleaming in his eyes before he gestured to a figure dressed in a deep green cloak, staring out across the ocean that lapped at the cliff atop which Majula was situated. “You’ll want to speak with that lady. She’s known as the Emerald Herald, she helps travellers that still want to be helped. That haven’t realised the only thing that can be done about this curse of ours is to accept the inevitable. Those that think they still have a chance at breaking it.” ‘That would be me then. Good day, sir.’ I trotted off down the stone steps that led down into the main body of Majula, taking in the view as I did so. I could see a total of three run-down wooden buildings and one larger, less damaged structure. Closer to the steps I was descending from, another of the curious bone and sword piles stood, unlit. Why had no-one lit the thing? I moved towards the lady Saulden had pointed out. As I got near, she bowed her head slightly, still facing the great ocean. “Are you here to become the next monarch, young undead?” she questioned, her voice song-like as it graced my ears. ‘I am here merely to break the curse, ma’am.’ A sigh escaped her lips as she turned to face me, green eye glinting softly in the permanently setting sun. “I see. Very well then, please allow me to assist you in your journey. Please, take this.” She opened a small pouch on her waist, pulling out a small green flask that seemed dull against her palm, even in the golden evening light. “This flask contains Estus, or it would had the bonfire not gone out. Please allow it to help you.” ‘Bonfire?’ I asked, confused, before pointing a hoof at the pile of bones ‘Is that what these are known as?’ “You are correct, young undead.” I followed as she walked towards it, her cape trailing daintily along the ground. “It responds to hope. That is why none of the lost souls here can light it. Please, you try.” ‘I see, these things are beacons of hope, because they require hope…’ I mused, placing my hoof above the bonfire. It roared into life, a green shell of a man raising his head from beside one of the ruined buildings. “This flame is known as the far fire. It was named as such since it is the furthest flame from the strife you will face in this land. But no matter where you are, so long as you have hope, these flames will react to you. Please remember that, young one.” The Herald smiled softly, before acknowledging the man whom had reacted to the life of the flame. “That man is named Lenigrast. He is a blacksmith who has lost everything in this world. It would benefit you to help him.” ‘Thank you for your help, ma’am.’ The Emerald Herald smiled as I bowed my head before trotting over to Lenigrast. As I approached, he scowled. His skin was a tight green leather pulled taut over a strongly defined body, his eyes the milky white of one close to hollowing. “Leave me alone.” A gruff voice emanated from the blacksmith, “Your kind isn’t welcome here. Just let me Hollow in peace.” ‘Nope. I wish to aid you, my good sir.’ “And what can a foal help me with. Scram.” ‘Hey, I’m not a foal. You may be one shove away from going Hollow, but that doesn’t give you the right to be foul to those wanting to assist. Now tell me what’s gotten you so green.’ A hefty sigh erupted from Lenigrast’s chest. “Well, if helping me will get you to leave me alone, find me the key to this place. I left my tools in here and without them I can’t be doing any smithing. My work and my daughter is all I have left and that foolish girl’s run off somewhere, and since I won’t see her again…” He broke off, a hint of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Look, just get me the key to this place. Then we can talk.” ‘Got it, sir. One key, coming up.’ “Don’t call me sir. I’m not old.” A chuckle escaped as I bid the old blacksmith a farewell, trotting off to investigate the other houses. I checked the larger of the three first, my magic pushing and pulling at the stubborn iron door, yet it would not yield. I probed the keyhole with a pulse of magic. It was locked tightly, the mechanism in these Drangleic locks far too advanced for my magic to pick. Sighing, I moved to the building to the left, its entrance was unobstructed by any door. I almost missed the shadow of a man curled up in the corner between two counters scattered with shoddy armour. I cleared my throat gently, startling the man into sitting up and paying me attention. “G-good day!” He stuttered, bowing repeatedly. “Please, miss, please buy something!” ‘I’m sorry, my good sir, but I haven’t any coin. I’m new to this land. Even in my past land I had not a penny to my name.’ “O-oh no, ma’am, coins are worthless here, it’s souls we trade for!” The merchant seemed to be gaining a little more confidence in speaking to me, although he was still keeping his body as small as he could without being disrespectful. ‘You trade in... souls? How does that work?’ “W-well, every creature in this land has a soul, even most of us in Majula! When you end their existence, their souls flow from their body into yours. You can release and trade these souls at will, or the Herald can bind them to your own soul to gain more power, although…” ‘Although?’ I urged, before his first sentence hit me ‘and only most of Majula? Some of them have no soul?’ “A-although I’d like it if you’d purchase from me instead of adding power.” Sweat was forming rapidly on the merchant’s brow, his eye twitching. “As for the second… most of the creatures in this land can sense if a creature has a soul. There are two in this place that do not.. The Herald and lovely Shalquoir do not have this… And you… I cannot tell if you have a soul, this is most peculiar…” ‘I… I see…’ My telepathy was quiet in the merchant’s head as I turned to walk slowly out of the shop, my mind running from the implications of his words. ‘Thank you, mr..?’ “Maughlin.” ‘I see. My name is Ayrle. I’ll mention your shop to whomever I meet. I won’t be needing anything material from you.’
