THE BATTLE FOR EQUESTRIA
A fantasy-based pony fic written by Kiril Parshenko A.K.A Thanatos
It has been centuries since the famous elements of Harmony, or so it seemed. The memories of a long-secluded peace had long since then deteriorated. I could even go as far as to say that even a strong friendship is scarcely seen, always one betraying another for wealth or self-greed. This was more common than even two ponies simply standing by one another and having a friendly conversation. The magic of friendship had all but stayed in this..New, Equestria.
The new Equestria where it is just as Unsafe to simply tread down the path as it is in the Everfree forest.
The new Equestria that breeds violence.
No, Glorifies violence.
In this time, there is no Princess Celestia, nor Princess Luna to save the day. There were only guards and Milita that kept the commonfolk safe, that kept things in Order..But not the kind of order that Celestia encouraged. Instead, the new leaders strike fear into the hearts of his subjects.
Now, I simply stand before the massing cavernous mountains of Icehoof dale. The moonlight devoid of emotion as it had been upset by Warlock magic to rise and set with the sun, in the absence of the great sisters. Devoid of the strange, loving essence that both Luna and Celestia had given it whenever they rose the moon.
I suppose Luna would've been happy with me, from what the ancient books say about her growing jealous of the ponies being asleep in her beautiful nights. I had a closer connection to the moon, I'm more active in the moonlight, I do my duties better in the moonlight.
The more I think about the sisters, the more I remnisce of my predicament.
The predicament of what my fate was, and what it is now..It feels as if it was so long ago that my fate had begun, I had been on this road for just as long...
What I can only describe as warlocks had taken me from my family, leaving the house to burn in the still moonlight. From what they spoke of, I was ‘special’ in their eyes, I had such potential unclaimed.
They had branded me as subject to their will, nothing more, nothing less. I was still an foal at that time; I didn’t know or give care as to where or what was going on.
In the evenings that followed, I was experimented on, a mere plaything with the warlocks.
In the evenings that followed, I had grown a single, long, powerful horn. But with it bore no magic; it was not a wizard’s conundrum, or aid of spells. It wasn’t even a living part of a ‘normal’ unicorn’s body; it was a ‘dead’ part of me, a sturdy bid of reinforced bone. It bore neither magic nor even a possibility for magic, yet for what they had in store, it didn’t matter if it could bear magic entirely or not.
I had begun to bear the wings of a Pegasus, in the evenings that followed.
Alongside my back and crest, it was as if there were white-hot coals being pressed down, it made my skin and even fur so sensitive that even a blade of grass felt as if it were a small spear penetrating my flesh.
For what they had in mind I did not know until the transformation was complete, for I had the mixed bloodline of Pegasi, Unicorn, and Hearth pony alike. This made me a venerable subject by the preying warlocks, who had since used the mixed bloodline as a test of directly pulling genes with magic, or their dark and pervasive twist of the innocent magic that the unicorns used in times of old to coerce the mixed blood to display their relative genes.
To bear the horn of a Unicorn.
To gain the wings of a Pegasus.
To wield the strength of a Earth Pony.
They wanted to create an Alicorn through magic, which is what they had previously tried and failed, but on singular specimen of a sub verse of pony. But where their previous tests had failed, I succeeded.
But where the success of the magical craft was expected. The backlash and pertinent affects of an artificial Alicorn followed.
I had neither the gift of magic, nor did I have the gift of proper flight with my wings, thus causing me to be branded as useless, and cast aside. At least, for their original use…
An Oligarch group of the higher aristocrats of Canterlot, who then only labeled themselves as ‘The Council’, took charge in the wake of Princess Celestia’s descent into madness and eventual demise at the hands of her own people.
At first, the council was interested in that of the peoples’ problems, but that interest deteriorated rapidly as the stresses of keeping peace had became too much for that of the council, who were interested in matters of garnishing land.
That is where I was meant to come in.
They wanted an Alicorn to re-take control so that the council could revert back to the aristocratic youth it once was.
They wanted an Alicorn.
They NEEDED an Alicorn.
But I had fallen short of their expectations with my defects, and for that, I was cast aside. Left to rot in the towers of the royal Canterlot dungeons that loom over its once beautiful skyline. Left to gloom and think of myself to be no more than a ‘failure’, and become mentally broken.
Yet, in the months that followed, the greed and sheer discord of circumstance eroding the Oligarch’s power, causing the Warlocks to easily overthrow them in a ‘beautiful’ revolt, in of which they instated that of martial law and with the martial law came order, not the heartfelt order that was seen and felt under Celestia’s caring eye, but order nonetheless.
Whereas the Warlocks were no less greedy or arrogant than the council themselves, they had more inclination of power and more of a way to enforce it. With that, came the mass deterioration of the grown social structure, the Matriarchal society of Equestria had fallen aside for the Military-Enforced society that deteriorated every aspect of peace.
But they were in need of a puppet to ploy as a leader, and in which case they once more changed my fate, as if my life hardly mattered to them, and I doubted it didn’t.
I am an aberration, a living testament to an atrocious crime of Hubris.
I serve only as a weapon and a secondary testament to the Warlocks’ power.
I bear the name of Umbra, the warlocks did not take much time in my name, so it is how it is.
It was winter by the time the Warlocks had conveyed and established control from the Council. The confined stone chamber bitter with winter's touch as the dimly-lit torches the only sensation of sight that one could see, it was nothing more than darkness that I opened my eyes to, so I at times just left them closed.
In that time, I had begun to crack, myself. Unsure as to if it was just pure torture, or an ultimate test of faith as I had been given just enough food, by the Guards around my chamber. Wether it was out of pity or out of duty was no matter, every two or three days of the week, they'd toss in a bowl of soup or a bit of molded, crusty bread.
Then, after feeding me they'd pull my body back to the chains that straddled and confined me to the wall, the strong, iron and steel cuffs around the shins of my hindlegs and my wrists, being suspended ten feet from the ground as I resumed where I was.
At times it was unbearable due to the stiff metal rubbing against my bare flesh and fur, rubbing it raw, and causing it to occasionally break the skin, and cause blood to flow.
The beads of sweat felt had that needly, firey cold to it as it slivered down my body. My body heat that was surrounding the room was conflicting with the outside cold, my sweat mixing with an excess of blood as it began to drool down my countenance in unison, my head was hung.
I had recently then begun to distance myself from the world, mentally and emotionally. Impartial sleep deprivation causing the bitterly harsh reality to almost melt away, pushing myself into a deep confine of my subconscious, trying to imagine Equestria during its time of peace and tranquility.
Those thoughts were broken as the cracked wooden door swung open unexpectantly, blinding me with the light from the lanterns outside the chamber. Two guards decked in their royal, situational garbs take a step in, one being a unicorn and murmuring a small hymn and waving his hand over the chains, causing the 'magical' binds to snap off. I fall onto my chest, my eyes clenched shut from the months of solitude.
The other guard snorts, "Get up."
I began to pick myself up, but starvation and lack of excercise had made me weak at that point, and I precariously got on my two legs. Ready to collapse at any moment.
The guard sighs as he'd wrap his arm over my shoulder, and begin to pull me out of the chamber, down the mass spiral of stairs that lead to the other cells and chambers of the amassed dungeon. Half dragging and half carrying me down into the royal chamber, before throwing me down to the floor. In which I fell on my knees, my arms over me as I grunt.
I look up, and through squinted eyes I notice one of the Warlocks, I hung my head back down. Not in frivolence, moreso in imperative disobedience.
The Warlock had grunted, motioning something as a dark red glow surrounded my head, forcing my head back up to meet him.
"Well, it's a..Pleasure, to see you again, aberration."
I glared his way a moment, and snorted in response, before speaking. With months of not talking, it was a stutter, and hoarse from lack of water. But, I got the words out.
"W-..What do you want with me this time..Warlock?"
The Warlock returned a snort, "As disobedient as always."
"I..Return insults with them."
The Warlock didn't bother, he simply motioned towards me. One of the guards struck me from behind with the hilt of their sword. I snarled in pain, my head bobbed forward with the impact, but the Warlock pulled it back up with his magic.
"Are you finished?"
My mind was swimming, and he continued whilst I tried to re-concentrate.
"Well, then. If you're done, we can get back to..Business, if you will. We are in need of a military leader, or so-say one that can be sent on suicide missions without a second thought."
Classy.
"You are one of the only candidates, aberration. One of the only times we've ever bothered with your..kind, to do anything out of your original use."
I coughed, semblance of saliva and blood had oozed out from the hacking coughs. The Warlock had turned, his cloack ripped and partially bloodstaind, particularly at the bottom, "In a month's time, you will be affixed against six others,"
He looked back a moment, stopping his words as he checked to make sure I was listening, before continuing, "Three of which are pegasi, two of which are Earth ponies, and one who is that of a Unicorn."
I snorted, acknowledging his words as they sunk into my mind.
"So, aberration. Think of it as a second chance, you could try your worth in this..New field, and reach for the stars on your own.." The Warlock turned, his blood-red gaze glaring out from the shadow of his hood, looking directly into mine, as they met, my eyes were locked to him, it almost felt as if I couldn't look away.
"..Or, you could return to your..comfy cell, and live out the rest of your days, wallowing in filth, mentally killing yourself over what could've been."
I grunted, moments had passed like seconds as I took in his words. My pride conflicting with my loathsome side.
What other choice did I have?
I lifted my hand out, asking for that of a handshake. The Warlock took my hand into his own, aiding me in rising to my feet as he gently shoved me in the Guards' direction.
"Excellent..I knew you'd see reason. Both of you, take him to his cell, but don't re-lock him. Feed him over three meals a day and allow him to build himself up. We need him alive and well for the competition to be fair and..Interesting."
The Guards only nodded, silent as they took me with more care. Pulling me back up the stairs, I had gained more energy in the brief hour I had spent in the Warlock's presence. I felt as if I had a purpose, once more. As if I could redeem myself through the concept of training.
The feeling was strange, the feeling of belief in a brighter tomorrow.
The feeling of Hope.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The month had past as quickly as it had begun, the weeks of training, hastened by the Warlock's magic. I had grown, towering over even the guards as my musculature increased rapidly, alongside the other 'competitors'.
The unicorn was sickeningly arrogant, especially to me as he rallied the others against me in training. The guards were always there to put a stop to the rucous, lest it get violent. I hardly cared for the others, but since the sheer thought or even presence of him has been enough to seethe hatred from me. Wether this was his goal or not is beyond me, but I had known one thing; the Unicorn was mine.
The Pegasi and Earth ponies could kill eachother for all I care, but no...
The unicorn was MINE.
Finally, the days and weeks of agonizing training had come to a halt as we had felt eachother ready for this moment. For the day to choose, all of us were wanting to win. Death being our only other route.
We were all desparate for freedom, we were ready to die for it.
The arena was aged, nearly a millenia old as the insignia of Celestia's Mark was implanted inside the cracked, stoic stone in the centre of the arena. Obviously a testament to the fallen princess, the coloured stone that was grafted to make the emblem in the ground almost hypnotising to look at as I walked past the area that overlooked the arena. Even in negligence, it was a beauty to behold.
The chambers that kept each of the six had circled around the ovial arena. Which was a prison-like complex, with the Warlocks and what was left of the aristocracy looking on, with their smug faces as I begin to assess what I can from the ground, the almost labryinth-like arena was sadistic in both its design, and how its design bore walls, but no cieling. Directly FOR spectating possible swordplay.
The inside of it stained with dried blood and gore. I looked behind the metal portcullis, the entry point of my own chamber, holding my sword close and hugging my shield. Making sure both were finely tuned and ready for bloodshed. All I was wearing was a brass chestplate and a thick cloth vest underneath the plate. Same along with my leggings, brass plate with copper chainmail. But donning patched cloth and leather under-armor.
The others didn't fare much better, the Pegasi and Unicorn bore lighter armor, as the Earth ponies equipped the same, if not heavier armor.
Time had begun to slow down, seconds had become minutes, the anxiety of the situation yet the bloodthirst and excitement for the Unicorn causing a vicious cycle of conflicting emotions to rage inside me. Anxious sweat beginning to soak the cloth under-armor. I had waited for this moment.
Then, the Warlock had begun to count, directly from ten.
"Nine.."
Come on..
"..Eight.."
Come on..
"..Five.."
Almost..
"Three..Two.."
I bit my lip, blood spurted out from the small wound. My heart was pounding, this was it.
The final shout by the announcer was blocked out by the violent pumping of the veins in my ears.
This is it.
The sound of the portcullises echoed in the small chamber where we resided, and throughout the interior of the arena.
It had begun. I ran, unsheathing my blade as I took to the left pathway. The dark light from the powerful lanterns ahead guiding my way. I felt a sudden blackness rush overhead, peering up as a winged Indigo-and-bronze coloured blob had descended upon me.
Luck being with me as I instinctively raised my shield to block the pegasi's spear, which seemingly already had blood drawn to it, so I assume he got a surprise attack on one of the contestants.
I had grimaced, the oak-wood shield with bolts driven into it to reinforce the shield had nearly snapped into two pieces from the Pegasi's spear. Which I returned with a sharp twist of my torso forward, and throwing my unsheathed sword forward in the Pegasi's shock.
The blade dug into the pegasi's unarmored shoulder, throwing him off balance as I had, apparently so, threw him to the ground. Yet he had no plans to stay down for very long, his wings began to flutter as he was readying to take off.
Not a chance, I had sprinted despite my armor and lept at him..Or not, the pegasi was much more flexible than I had expected, causing him to buck and wriggle away, free from my grasp. I snarled as I looked back up, right into the incoming spear as I tried to sway my head to the side to dodge it.
Too late, the jagged spearhead had ripped a vicious cut above my brow, inches away from my left eye as it tore flesh and fur away from the upper left corner of my face, leaving a gruesome gash down in almost a 'C' kind of marking.
Blood had oozed out as he struck the bloodvessels. I grabbed the weapon, snarling as pure adrenaline burned in my veins, causing me to break the spear into two with a sharp twist of my wrist in the struggle for it. Dropping the splintered spearhead as I took a step back, the Pegasi did this aswell, throwing the broken shaft of the weapon as he pulled out his own sword.
I grimaced, staring at him, as he stared back at me. His rose-rimmed eyes intensely glaring at me in a desparate hatred, his unkempt, matted fur was a dark cyan colour, almost a neon-esque indigo. His short, ripped, mangled mane had bore, in essence, almost a Rainbow-like colouring to it, as the light apparently hit it just right. The rainbow hair was foreign, not like the manes of the guards, nor anyone else's I came into contact before.
He was a unique breed, indeed.
The pause had broke just as it had begun as the Pegasi fluttered down, landing on his hind legs as he hencely charged, his shield raised.
I had raised my shield, in response. Rushing towards him on my own, both of us gaining momentum by our sprinting, both of us eventually had collided
The sound of metal painfully grinding into metal was almost sickening to my ears, the Pegasi was thrown back. His body a almost a blur as he sailed through it, colliding directly through the wall as it had cracked under the sheer impact. The sounds of bones snapping are heard as the Pegasi crumpled to the ground with a pained groan.
Some parts of his body was twisted out, his hind leg was twisted unnaturally to the right. His eyes were closed, but his snout and general face was contorted in silent agony as he was barely conscious.
As the seconds pass by as hours, I had begin to dig into my thoughts. There was a foreign feeling that drilled inconcistently into my stomach every time I had felt a blow land on him, or him cry out in pain.
This feeling was strange, it was peculiar to my senses.
It did not feel horrid, or miserable..No...
It felt satisfying.
As the first tendrils of my own scarlet ichor had begun to drool down my face, reaching my mouth from me having my head lowered. I touched it with my tongue, the nauseating, coppery taste of the blood and the strange satisfaction that had pierced my senses had twisted once again, but in pain instead of satisfaction.
My body had grown attached to the taste of blood and the satisfaction of inflicting agony on another living being, the sheer thrill and adrenaline of it..Was intoxicating.
I had turned back towards my barely conscious foe, who still lain there in pain as his consciousness had seeped in and out. I had scoured his apperance to find a weak chink in him, to hurt him without indirectly killing him in the process. Then I found a perfect match...
His wings..
