From The Ashes

From The Ashes

Chapter Two

The Exile was woken by a kick to his stomach. He winced and glared at the changeling guard. "Get up slave," the bug hissed. "It's time to die."

The stallion was filled with dread as the guard released him from the wall. He was taken out of the pen, the other slaves looking on with sympathy. The guard led him through the mountain's winding tunnels, stopping in a small cave.

The guard removed the stallion's shakles and the Exile was shoved inside. The guard closed the iron gate behind him, locking it. The stallion squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the much brighter light.

"Wait," he said. "Is that-?"

"Sunlight," a voice said.

The stallion looked to his right and saw a white mare polishing a shield. "You are just outside the arena," she continued. "I am sorry that you must see it in chains."

"Who are you?" The Exile asked.

"I am Xeni, a slave like you. It is my duty to arm the slaves that are to engage in battle."

"You have an interesting name."

"Yes. I was born into slavery, so the Changelings named me. It means: Honeysuckle, in their language. Now, I'm afraid that there is no more time for conversation."

"Iunderstand." He sat down on a stone slab and Xeni handed him a pair of linen shorts, a belt, and greaves.

"Put these on," she said. "They will help."

The stallion nodded, the mare turning away as he changed. Next he was handed an arm guard and a paldron. He slipped the armguard on and Xeni helped him put the paldron on his right shoulder.

He was then handed a shield and a sword. "One last thing," Xeni said, unscrewing a jar. She grabbed a thin brush and dipped it inside. "This will sting," she stated and touched him with the brush.

The Exile grunted and tightened his fists as the mare painted his left shoulder. Sting is an understatement, he thought. Whatever was in the jar didn't only sting, but burn. He sniffed, the scent of his own flesh being burned made him cringe more.

"It is done," Xeni said, putting her brush away. "That is the mark of a slave you now bear, but never let it pull you into despair."

The stallion looked at the white pattern on his shoulder and nodded. "I don't plan to."

The mare pointed to the huge gate on the other side as it slowly opened. "Your time has come...I wish you well." She kissed him on the cheek and smiled breifly. "For luck."

The Exile nodded, turning to the sunlight. With a heavy sigh, he walked towards it. The light blinded him even more as he entered the arena. His ears were bombarded by the booing of the changeling crowd. His eyes adjusted and the Exile saw hundreds of them seated above him.

Each changeling eye glared at the stallion with disgust. A horn blared and the crowd settled. An adorned changeling official hovered high above the arena's center. The Exile watched, his body tense.

"This slave was captured in the Barren Canyon!" the official shouted, his voice booming around the arena. "He has been accused of tresspassing, thievery, and destruction of a slave caravan en route to Öuj'xik."

The audience voiced their distaste and the official shouted even louder, "Therefore, his opponate cannot be too great. May I present: Vroln Hukum, the Executioner!"

The audience cheered wildly as another gate was opened at the far side of the arena. They silenced themselves as a roar echoed through the arena. "I don't like the sound of this," the Exiled muttered. The official laughed madly, returning to his seat.

The ground shook slightly in a slow rythem, a low boom being heard every time. The shaking stopped and the Exile quickly prayed for protection. His opponate then appeared. A hulking beast of a changeling, ten feet high, stood before him.

He was different than any changeling the stallion had seen. He was a wingless, mutilated monstrosity. Many parts of his shell were scratched and cracked open, while his dagger-like fangs dripped with venom, his horn partially broken off.

The brute's six eyes squinted in amusment. He laughed mockingly and his left arm melded into a large, sharp appendage. He charged, the Exile's eyes wide with terror. He put his shield up defensivly as the giant bug closed in, ready to strike.

Time seemed to stop. A flash of light dazed the stallion and he recalled a memory. The griffoness moved her talons in a pattern. Hope. The changeling striked and clicked in amazment as his arm was stopped by the Exile's sword.

"I," the stallion snarled, his sword arm shaking as it battled against the changeling. "Will. Not. Give. Up. Hope!" He bashed the bug's stomach with his shield, knocking him back. With a shout, he cut the sharp arm off. The monster screeched in pain, the audience in an uproar.

The changeling laughed menacingly. "Foolish pony," he rumbled. "I am a Changeling."

"Yes," the stallion replied. "Yes you are. I'm a violinist, just to let you know."

The changeling laughed again and his severed arm reformed back into a blade. The Exile laughed nervously, quickly blocking the arm with his shield. The two battled agressivly, the bug forcing the stallion back. Every time the Exile went on the offensive, he'd cut off a limb. But every time that limb would grow back.

He's like a hydra, the Exile thought, blocking another blow. Every time something's cut off, it grows right back. I need to seal his limbs...no, no I don't know how to use it. Maybe if I...

The stallion bashed the bug's stomach again and retreated to the far side of the arena and hugged the wall. The changeling regained its focus and charged. The Exile tensed his legs and when the bug was close enough, jumped out of the way.

The changeling didn't have time to slow down. His velocity had forced his arm through the wall, lodging him in place. He pulled, but his arm would not move.

"Do you accept defeat?" The Exile asked, pointing his sword at the bug. He was answered with another arm striking downwards. The stallion dodged and it slammed into the hard ground. The stallion climbed up the changeling's back and put his blade against the bug's neck.

"I'll ask again," the Exile continued. "Will you accept defeat?"

The bug growled, "Not to a slave."

The stallion yelled in surprise as he was grabbed by long tentacles that emerged from the monster's back. His sword fell to the ground as he struggled against the tendrels, but was held fast. With a grunt, the changeling freed his arms and turned to face the trembling stallion.

"I hunger," he said. "I can feel the love you have for somepony...it is strong. A burning passion! Yes...you shall make me stronger!"

The changeling slammed the Exile on the ground and released his tentacles. The stallion groaned and streched his arm out, trying to stand. He was knocked down again as a heavy slime stuck to his body. He was picked up again and more of the slime began to coat him. He could hardly move, but could still see and breathe.

The huge changeling's fangs dripped even more. He smiled, then bit the slimy cacoon, the fangs piercing the stallion's leg. He screamed in pain, his heart racing as the venom pumped into him. The pain numbed quickly, however. It must be the venom, the Exile thought. I need...to free...myself...

He was lifted closer to the bug's mouth, his thoughts becoming muddled. No...I have to see them again...I have to see...her. He was thrust into the gaping maw and swallowed. The Changeling audience cheered at their gladiator's victory and he roared in triumph.

That roar was interrupted by a belch. The bug cluched his stomach and began to gag. He shrieked as the blade of a sword stuck out of his stomach. The stomach began to glow warmly and the sword cut through like butter. The changeling fell on its side, its screams becoming louder.

It died with an insect-like trill, the acid of its stomach leaking out and covering it. The liquid then set aflame and the Exile stumbled out of the halved and burning changeling. The audience was silent as the stallion thrust his weapon in the ground, leaning on it for support.

The official cautiously flew down to the slime-covered stallion. "Who are you?" He asked.

"Blackjack," Blackjack panted, shaking his head. He changed his form, trying to get more support. "The Exile of...Equestria." His eyes rolled back in his head as he fainted, falling to the ground.