A good story has both a beginning and an end. Some beginnings are happy, that make you feel happy for the protagonist. Some beginnings are sad, that make you weep over the tragedies that befall the hero. This story is the second, come closer my children and hear the tale of The Last of His Kind.
Zae'kyal1 stared at the endless stars, wondering how life had turned out this way. He was lonely, so very lonely. Of course that's to be expected when you're the last of your kind, the last of the Nal'thyak2. His thoughts turned inwards, his cat-slit silver colored eyes closing in anger.
*Flashback*
Running, Running. Everyone was running, they were destroying everything. Fire, death, destruction. Dead bodies lay where those too slow fell, drawing their last breath. Behind him, the invaders swarmed like Vya'gar3 bugs. Everything was destroyed before them, the Cal'nyar4, the destroyers. With a form like grotesque, misshapen Gal'thyan5, they spewed blue fire from their beaks.
Beside him, another Nal'thyak fell burning as she caught fire.Some of his kin ran towards the invaders wielding black-ice spears. They were swatted aside with metal coated tentacles with contemptuous ease. Their strength was ten times the strongest of Nal'thyak warriors, their armor deflecting aside spears like a rock deflected water.
Cal'nyar swatted aside a Nal'thyak warrior his kin's body slamming into a nearby hut. Another warrior screamed as his body burned, the blue fire resisting all attempts to put it out. One of the Cal'nyar raised a strangely shaped spear and with a flash of harsh red light, a third warrior was gone, not even ash remained. Another Cal'nyar leaped upon another of his kin, the sharp beak tearing into flash, the Nal'thyak screaming as his body poured green blood.
More blasts of fire and red light, more Nal'thyak fell. One of the Cal'nyar flung a strange orb near him, it exploded with a plume of fire. The explosion flung him into a small niche in the cliff face. His eyes had spots, his hearing rang, blackness took him.
When he woke, the Cal'nyar were gone, his village was destroyed. He left the small cave looking around his decimated village. Bodies of Nal'thyak littered the ground, most burned or crushed beyond recognition.
He saw one body that was undamaged enough for him to recognize. He rushed forwards, curses to the gods on his tongue. He fell to his backside-facing knees, clawed feet scraping the ground. His lengthy tail swished back and forth in anguish, his three clawed hand cradled the body. His breath coming out in huffs as he sobbed in grief over the body.
Tears leaked from his almond-shaped eyes as he raised his scaled head to the smoke-blackened skies and screamed in agony at the tragedy before him. His Tyo'lek6, his life-mate, was dead. He screamed long and loud. He screamed for his Tyo'lek, he screamed for his village, and he screamed for his kin, the Nal'thyak. He screamed until his throat was soar and his body exhausted. He fell asleep next to the body of his life-mate.
*End flashback*
Zae'kyal opened his eyes, tears leaking from them once more, his claws curling up as the memories flitted through his mind. He stood, walking towards the body of another of his kin. Finding an undamaged black-ice spear he picked it up. looking at the blood-blessed weapon, he vowed to find meaning, to find a way to fill the void in his Kyan'nue7. He turned his back to his village, walking away, never to return.
He had walked for hours, his clawed feet ached, his body exhausted. he looked up from the battle-scared ground in wary surprise as a chiming sound reached his ears. Before him a glowing ball on ethereal energy swirled in chaotic ways. The ball glowed every color his kind had name for, and some that were strange to his eyes. It chimed and chirped with strange music that was pleasing to his ears.
The orb seemed to call to him, echoing in his Kyan'nue. Reaching out his three clawed hand, spear ready in the other, he touched the orb. Like falling into water, the orb engulfed him in its strange energies. He felt like he was falling and moving forwards falling at once. The sensation like being squeezed through a small tunnel filled with honey surrounded him. With a jolt the sensations faltered.
He shook his, head not believing his eyes. He was in a forest, the trees close together, making him feel closed in. before him was a small hut, wooden in nature and decorated with strange effigies that looked like faces. Bottles filled with strange fluids hung from string around the roof.
He heard a crackling noise to his right, and spun around, his spear at the ready. What he saw made him pause, it seemed familiar and strange all at once. It was a striped, four-legged Hyat'ket8. What happened next surprised him enough that he almost dropped his spear. The Hyat'ket spoke.
"What is this I see before my home, a creature from beyond that has roamed? Lower your weapon, I mean you no harm, only knowledge do I wish to farm."
He blinked, words escaping him, he understood the Hyat'ket. UNDERSTOOD it, he wondered if it would understand him. He was about to speak when the Hyat'ket beat him to it.
"Zecora is my name, of you, I would ask the same."
He spoke, his voice coming out in a tentative tone. "I am Zae'kyal. I am sorry for pointing my spear a you, I was surprised. Normally Hyat'ket do not speak."
The Hyat'ket named Zecora smiled. "No offense is taken, you are new here if i am not mistaken?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"Come into my home, you need not roam. Come and let me lend an ear, put to rest all your fears."
Zae'kyal sighed. "Thank you, Zecora. Perhaps you can help me find a town in which to begin anew, to fill this void within my kyan'nue."
"To help I will, but this word I do not know, my knowledge will you fill?"
Zae'kyal nodded as he followed Zecora into her hut. He hoped all that if this world was populated with others like her, that they would be as kind.
"Please have a seat and relax, that word you said, tell me what it means so my mind it does not tax."
"Kyan'nue is difficult to explain, but I will try. It is the you that is you. Who you truly are inside yourself, your very being."
"Ah, you speak of the soul. Now tell me, what tragedies on you have taken their toll?"
"My home, my world, is gone. Destroyed by foul beings that came in a boat that sailed the sky."
"A sad tail to be sure, for your loneliness I may have a cure."
"Truly? You can help?"
"Nearby to my home is a town, the ponies are friendly and kindness abounds. I can take you, it will only take a few."
"Are you certain the others will not be frightened of me? I know i must look strange to you."
"The ponies might be scared to start, but they will warm up to you and welcome you into their hearts."
Zae'kyal nodded. "Take me to the town please Zecora."
"I will indeed, of this I will make most speed."
Together the pair left Zecora's hut, lightly jogging towards the nearby town Zecora had said was called Ponyville.
As they jogged they continued to exchange pleasantries.
"Tell me my strange friend, why that weapon do you tend."
"A true warrior is never without his weapon, i was, and still am a warrior."
"I do not wish to groan, but what is that stone?"
"The Nal'thyak call it black-ice, we only know it is rare and very tough."
Zecora paused to consider this. The pair jolted to a halt as a shrill scream reached their ears.
"That sounds like the scream of a pony folk! Come before we lose all hope!"
Zae'kyal nodded and followed Zecora as she ran off towards the sound of the scream.
They skidded to a halt at a horrifying sight.
Three small fillies surrounded by wooden wolves. On the outside of the circle, other ponies were desperately kicking and bucking the wolves trying to save the three within.
As they saw this, something within Zae'kyal snapped. Visions of his village being slaughtered flashed before his eyes. He entered a state that village elders only told tales of, the state known as Jhat'ghyal1, the red rage.
He lifted his spear and roared with a fury equal to that of the mightiest Lyk'tiol2, the red rage fueling his strength and speed. He lashed out, striking true and withdrawing spearing three of the wooden wolves in as many moments. Then, he leaped over the circle landing on the head of a wolf that had gotten rather close to one of the fillies. He lashed out with the blunt end of his spear, bashing aside more of the wolves, and letting loose another mighty roar.
The wolves paused, unsure of their next action. Zecora and the other ponies took this opportunity to step up their efforts, kicking and bucking the outside wolves. Zae'kyal speared another wolf, protecting the fillies as if they were kin, the red rage pulsing angrily in him, demanding blood. Again and again he attacked, spearing, butting, clawing, and kicking.
As if from a far distance a voice calling his name entered his mind, the red rage drained from his eyes, and he saw his spear was pointed at Zecora's throat. He noticed that the wolves had fled and the fillies were huddled protectively behind the three other adults.
"I am sorry Zecora, the Jhat'ghyal had taken hold of me."
"No harm was dealt, the fillies we have helped."
"Zecora? Who and what in the hay is THAT?" Asked an orange colored pony wearing a strange head-covering.
"This is Zae'kyal, a friend who wanted to find a new home. I was taking him to Ponyville so he did not have to roam."
"Greetings, any friend of Zecora's is a friend of mine."
"Well shoot, you helped us save our sisters, I reckon ya'll right."
"Indeed, thank you very much darling."
"Yeah, yeah, thanks."
"Mah name's Applejack, and these two are Rarity and Rainbow Dash"
"Charmed, i'm sure."
"Hey."
"Yah said you were taking him tah Ponyville?"
Zecora nodded. "Indeed I was, but those screams gave us pause."
"I, for one am certainly glad they did. Though you are a bit brutish, anypony that can help save my sister is good in my book."
"I reckon we can take it from here Zecora, iffn yah want to go back home."
"Thank you applejack my friend, things back home must I tend."
"Thank you for your help and allowing me into your home Zecora. I owe you a debt, ask and i will wield my spear in your name."
"No debt is owed, only doing what is right and leading you on this road."
With that, Zecora turned and began the trek back to her hut. Zae'kyal turned towards the other ponies, observing them.
"Applebloom! What do yah say tah somepony that saved yah?!"
The three fillies shyly spoke as one. "Thank you mister."
"You are welcome little ones. Will you tell me your names?"
"Ahm Applebloom."
"I'm Sweetiebelle"
"And i'm Scootaloo."
"And we are, THE CUTIE MARK CRIUSADERS!!!"
"A pleasure to meet you. I am Zae'kyal, a warrior of the Nal'thyak."
"What's nal-the-ack?" Sweetiebelle asked.
"I am sorry, though it seems we can understand each other, some of the words I use do not have meaning for you."
"The solution is simple then darling, if such a wor comes up we can ask what it means and you can tell us."
"Rarity's right. So what's nal-the-ack mean?" Sweetiebelle askd, stoically ignoring Scootaloo's muttered "Dictionary."
"The Nal'Thyak are my people, or were." Zae'kyal replied, looking downwards.
"Were? What happened?" Applebloom asked, hoping to make their sad looking savior happy again.
"Now Appleblooom, iffn he don't wanna answer that he ain't gotta."
"The Cal'nyar happened. The destroyers, they came in a boat that sailed the skies. They destroyed everything in sight, homes, friends, my life-mate. She was carrying our first child."
The ponies gasped, their hearts going out to Zae'kyal.
"Such monstrous brutes!"
"Down-low, no good, rotten apples!"
They walked in silence, allowing Zae'kyal his thoughts.
"Does your village have a Ghyr'gol3?"
"And what is a gear-gall darling?"
"One who holds knowledge to pass on to the younger ones."
"Ah! Yes, our village has one of those. Twilight Sparkle is simply the best when it comes to knowledge."
"Can you take me to her? I will need her knowledge to find out more about this place."
"Of course sugar-cube. We don't mind a bit."
"Thank you."
Together they walked, intent on visiting a certain purple librarian. Zae'kyal hoped the village would not be too frightened of him, but he remembered Zecora's words. "The ponies might be scared to start, but they will warm up to you and welcome you into their hearts." He smiled, he believed the striped Hyat'ket and he felt that the others were kind as well. So far, Zecora's words had proven true, but only time would tell.
