Chronicles of Equestria

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.