From The Ashes

by Chlumpy

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Adventure, Anthro
Length: 5841

From the ashes a Hero shall rise. From the ashes the Tyrant, from the ashes, a king. From the ashes the Zuo'Trumäg. From the ashes Noble-Spirit-of-Fire. Child of Stars and Space, child of destruction and renual...bearer of shadow and flame.

From the ashes a Hero shall rise. From the ashes the Tyrant, from the ashes a king. From the ashes the Zuo'Trumäg. From the ashes Noble-Spirit-of-Fire. Child of Stars and Space…child of destruction amd renual…child of Chaos through pain…bearer of shadow andi flame. The Courage he has will complete the fight, but it will take many to end the world's darkest night.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-28 04:50:06 UTC

Chapter 1

From The Ashes

Chapter One

Thieves, traitors, merchants, warriors; it does not matter. Buffalo, Griffon, Diamond Dog, or even Pony, it does not matter. Man, woman, or child, it does not matter. Captors are blind to these things. When you're a prisoner, the only thing that could matter is if you have information. Changelings crave information. They are ravenous for it.

It's a simple feat for them, changing into someone you love. Then, when you get close enough, they trap you in their goo. You are their prisoner. Many on the prison convoy had found themselves caught that way. Some, however, were captured by sheer force. Changelings are excellent fighters, these people found out.

The convoy had been traveling the barren land of the Changelings for days. There were ten carts, each holding around twenty people. The prisoners had little to eat or drink and many had perished during the journey. They were nearing the bug's capitol, Öuj'xik and the remaining prisoners knew that there was no hope for escape now.

All they could do now was pray that they would be with their family in chains. Many realized that now, the only way to seek comfort was among each other. Talking quietly, each person told their story. One stallion could not find comfort in his fellow prisoners though. They wouldn't talk to me anyway, he thought. I'm just a face in the crowd.

"Excuse me," a white griffoness softly said. "May I ask what your story is?"

The stallion sighed and put his arms over his knees, the chains clanking. "It's complicated."

"Everything is these days," she said with a hint of sadness. "Where are you from?"

"Ponyville."

"Isn't that where that exiled stallion lived?"

The stallion eyed her warily, aware that she could be a Changeling. "I heard he was never from anywhere and just wandered Equestria."

"Many people have heard false tales concerning him. I was told that he tried to propose to Twili-"

The stallion put his hand over her beak and carefully watched the Changeling guards. They continued to march onward, eyes straight ahead. "Be careful about who might be listening to you," the stallion whispered. "Especially concerning that mare and those associated with her."

He removed his hand and looked down. "Yes...he did. He was arrested before he had the chance."

"What's your name?"

"I can't say. I...I have done enough harm by even talking to you."

"Sir, I have been alone for months and had hoped to befriend someone before I reached Öuj'xik. Therefore, I, Princess Storm Icefeather humbly ask your name."

The stallion looked at her in shock. "My apologies, your majesty. But, now you'd be in greater danger if I had told you my name."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes as the princess thought. They had entered the city when she said, "You're the Exile. Aren't you?" The stallion nodded, his amber eyes wet with tears. "I'm so sorry," Storm said, hugging him.

"Everyone out!" A guard's hissing voice shouted. Each prisoner in the convoy exited their cart and stood next to it. The Exile took notice of the black architecture that was the city. Its buildings were all sharp and menacing, green light softly glowing in what appeared to be streetlamps.

Öuj'xik was surrounded by a mountain. Several caves and buildings were embedded in it. Aside from the guards and soldiers keeping vigil, not many Changelings could be seen. They must be in the caves, the stallion thought.

"I want men on my left," the prison master yelled. "Women and children on my right. Move!" He cracked a whip, and they gathered in lines on either side. The stallion had a bad feeling when the city buzzed with life as its citizens came out of hiding.

The guards moved some prisoners into two more lines and led them off. The princess took a final look at the Exile as she was taken away. A few Changelings began to inspect them. They cut off the men's shirts if they had them, showing the lean muscle, or fat.

They would then inspect teeth, forcing open the captive's mouth. The Exile saw the women and children being treated in a similar manner. He kept his eyes focused on the women's faces out of respect. He could hear and feel the men's need to defend their wives and sisters, but there was nothing they could do.

One by one, the prisoners were taken away. Some were taken for interrogation, sold into slavery, and even killed outright for not being any use to the Changelings.

A Changeling came up to the Exile, looking thoughtful. He examined his muscles, humming with satisfaction. He tossed a pouch filled with coins to the prison master and pushed the stallion to the ground. "Get quadrupal slave," he hissed. "It's hard to get out of a harness when you can't grab the chains."

The Exile bowed his head and did so. His new master slipped a heavy harness over the stallion's neck and shakled him to a line of others like him. The slaver cracked his whip and the men marched through the city. Along the way, citizens sneered and spat at them. A few minutes later they slowly passed an auction stand.

"You see," the slaver said. "That is why we are superior. We can break even the strongest Minotaur."

The Exile saw a mare holding a baby being sold. She screamed as her child was torn from her arms, the mare's husband fighting against the slime that held him in place. The baby wailed and was silenced. The child's head tilted at an angle, broken.

The stallion scowled, feeling a fiery heat inside of him well up. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. No. You can't do that. Not here. You can't stop it anyways. It's what got you here in the first place.

They were marching again. The Exile looked back at the stand, burning the image of the baby into his mind. He stopped suddenly. The griffon princess was being inspected. The bug examining her mouth thrust his finger into her beak and yelped as she bit him.

Storm was slapped across the face, the force knocking her down. The stallion locked eyes with her. She moved her talons in a pattern and the Exile mouthed, 'hope?' She smiled sadly, nodding.

The stallion was pushed forward and he continued to walk. He forced himself to watch the griffoness' top be torn off and her back be whipped repeatedly. Be strong princess...

The slaves were led through a large tunnel in the mountain, the green light inside lending little visibility. The tunnel twisted and turned with several others attached to it, making the path almost impossible to remember.

They stopped in a small cavern with a barred window at the end of it. The floor was lined with hay and shakles were attatched to the walls. About a dozen other slaves sulked on the floor, their bonds keeping them five feet from the wall.

The Exile and the others were disconnected from their harnesses and locked to the walls. The slaver then walked out and closed the heavy door, the bolt sliding into place. "What is this place?" A twitching stallion asked.

Chains rattled as another stallion next to the Exile stood up in the faint light. "The slave pens in the arena," he replied in a soft, low voice. "You have been brought here for the Changeling's own amusement. You are going to fight and most likely will die."

The new arrivals grumbled and shifted uneasily. "Death does not come so easily to the spirited," a buffalo snarled.

"Make that claim again when you have been here as long as me. You may survive with my guidance, however. I will train you all in secret. Unfortunately, there is nothing here we can use as training weapons, so you will learn unarmed combat. You'll have to teach yourself how to use a weapon in the arena."

"And if we refuse to fight?" The Exile asked.

The stallion's teeth shined in a grim smile. "The beasts need food," he replied simply. "I have been here many years and know that fact all too well. I have survived because the Changelings like my battles. They call me the Scourge of Despair, because I have not given up the hope that has spurred me on. The hope of seeing my family freed. That's what you must fight for gentlemen."

He sat back down and the slaves sat in silence. They did nothing for what seemed like hours. When the food arrived, they ate ravenously, though it only consisted of water, bread, cheese, and an onion. Their moods seemed to lighten a bit, even with such a little amount of food.

Gradually, the men began to converse out of loneliness. Each shared how they were captured with the older slaves. The Exile shifted into his anthromorphic form and took off a chain necklace. He opened the large locket, frowning at the items inside.

There were several pictures of his friends, some with him in them. He shifted through them, his lips twitching as he resisted the urge to smile at the memories he had shared. He stopped, picking up a small ring gingerly.

His gaze shifted to a picture taped to the inside of the clasp. It was the last picture he had recieved; a mare's cheerful face smiled at him, her blue gown adding to her beauty. The Exile put the items away and put his necklace back on. The stallion's vision blurred as his eyes became tearfull.

The memory came back to him hard and he shut his eyes tight. He was forced to the ground, the princess' stern face towering above him.

"You," a voice said, breaking his thoughts. "Come here." The Exile turned his head to the source; the stallion from before was motioning for him to come. He did, his chains just barely long enough. Now that he was closer, he could see what this stallion looked like.

He was lean and well toned, his body very angular and sharp. His blue-green mane touched his shoulders and his tail was a bit longer than the average stallion's. His black fur was dirty and matted; three vertical scars ran down the length of the left side of his face.

"There's something we need to discuss," he continued, his emerald eyes revealing no emotion. "By next week, several of you will be dead, regardless if you use what I teach you. I'm not going to lie, the gladiators will not give you mercy and will stab you in the back as soon as you turn away."

"Why are you telling me this?" The Exile asked.

"Because you need a reason to fight back; defensively at the very least."

"I don't kill, Scourge.

"I'm not saying you will! Even so, you might have to hurt somepony to live and shields only last so long. Now get some sleep, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

'-'

"Again!" Scourge shouted. The Ponies practiced the attack once more, punching left and right, then quickly changing form and bucking with their hind hooves. The Griffons, Buffalo, and Diamond Dogs watched on since combat was both cultural and instinctive for them. The Exile had refused to be taught at first, but in the days that passed, more and more of his fellow slaves were taken away, never to return.

"That's enough for today," Scourge said. "Rest now." They all sat down and the stallion took the Exile aside.

"Is something wrong?" The Exile asked. Scourge kept quiet, leading him to the window.

"I need to tell you something," he said. "But before I do I must know who you are. Who you really are. You're not just some ordinary stallion are you?"

The Exile looked away. "I'm just another stallion, nothing special."

"Then why don't I believe you? What are you hiding?"

"Nothing! Look, I've already told you who I am, so why do you keep pestering me?"

"Because I know that you haven't told me everything...Exile."

The Exile slowly looked at Scourge, fear showing on his face. "How did you know?" His voice was a whisper.

"I heard rumors that you had been captured. I didn't believe it, until I saw you. You look and act the same way I had been told. So that is why I ask: how much do you want to be back in Equestria?"

"More than anything."

"In that case, look out there." The Exile's gaze followed the stallion's hoof, pointing at the window. "Do you see the bones scattered around the arena?" The Exile nodded. "I have organized a rebellion. They will attack Öuj'xik in two days. Now those bones, they belong to those who died because of the queen's tyranny. I don't want you to die alongside them, so, will you accept my charity?"

"If it will get me home, yes. But I won't fight for you Scourge."

"I won't force you Exile. You have my word."

Chapter 2

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.

Chapter 3

From The Ashes

Chapter Three

Blackjack woke up grogilly. He blinked and craned his head. He was being dragged by two Changeling guards through a tunnel. "He's waking up," one said. "Perfect timing too."

Blackjack began to move his front legs, trying to free himself. His efforts were recieved with a pound on his skull, making him see stars. "Next time we won't be so nice," the other guard said. "We're here."

They stopped at ornate double doors. Why would they need those? Blackjack thought. He didn't dwell on that though, as the doors opened. He was dragged inside and forced to a kneeling position.

"Your Highness," a guard said. "We have brought you the slave as you requested.

"Excellent," a sly voice said. "You are dismissed." The guards left, the doors closing with a boom. Blackjack's head was lifted up with a tender hoof. He gasped in fear as he saw who was touching him.

The Changeling Queen smiled at him. "Hello," she said.

"You're dead," Blackjack wimpered. "Y-you were killed by Discord."

The Queen laughed. "Do you really think that I don't know when I could be in danger? Discord killed a decoy in that battle my dear. Don't be scared, you may stand."

Blackjack stood and took a look at his surroundings. It was a throne room, beautifully decorated compared to other changeling designs. "Why am I here?" He asked. "I figured I'd be dead right now."

"Oh you would be," she replied darkly. "Had you not revealed your name, my dear Exile..."

Blackjack laughed nervously. "Oops.

"My sentinance exactly. You would fetch a high price in slavery, even higher than that you were purchased with. However, you are priceless, considering those you are affiliated with. The perfect bait for the perfect trap for my revenge."

"I don't understand."

"I think you do. Your friend is the sister of somepony who I would love to torture. When she learns where you are, she will submit to me willingly. Then her sister will follow and she will pay for what she did."

Blackjack realised who the Queen was refering to. "If you lay a hoof on her I'll-"

The Queen laughed. "You'll what? My dear, I have an army and they are more than a match for you. No, I won't hurt her. Not unless her sister disobeys me. Besides, I will give you two a seperate room so you can...express yourself."

He looked away, blushing. "I don't think of her that way."

"That blush would say otherwise BJ."

Blackjack snapped his head back to the Queen. Only she wasn't there. In her place stood Twilight Sparkle. "How did you-"

"We change into people you love," Twilight said in the Queen's voice. "Therefore, we know almost everything about them. Your love for her is strong indeed."

Though he knew that this wasn't his friend, Blackjack's heart ached seeing the unicorn in person. "You're not her."

"Oh but I can be," she said in Twilight's voice. She slowly walked around the stallion, smiling seducivly. "Think about it BJ, we could be together again." She wrapped her hooves around his neck, pulling him close. "We can be married just like you wanted."

The unicorn lightly licked his ear and whispered, "Maybe even have a family."

A pleasant shiver ran down Blackjack's spine when he thought of that possibility. The mare in his hooves giggled. "Kiss me, like you used to."

He tenderly pushed back her mane and touched his forehead to hers. "It would be my pleasure," he whispered, a tear sliding down his face. He then backed away, shaking his head. He said in a choked voice, "If I had ever kissed the real Twilight! But you wouldn't know that would you Your Highness?"

The unicorn grinned, her eyes flashing green. She was surrounded by a flash of emerald light and the Queen towered above the stallion. "I do now," she said, chuckling. "That just proves I can sway you even easier. Oh, and I know about the rebellion that your friend told you about."

Blackjack looked at her in panic. "I'm not part of that!"

"Oh?" She stamped her hoof and the doors opened. Guards dragged in the beaten and bloody Scourge. His chains rattled as he was pushed down; the stallion looked up at the Queen with hatred. "I suppose this slave was lying in that case," she continued. "Which I highly doubt, as he knows the concequences. Don't you my dear?"

"Go to Tartarus," Scourge snarled. "Queen Chrysalis."

Blackjack stared in disbelief. "What...?" That was all he could say.

"You see Exile," the Queen said. "That is how Changelings have surrvived through the centuries. We are masters at infiltration. We pretend to be your pets, neghbors, family, and even your friends."

She grinned cruely at Scourge. "Show him."

The stallion glared at her and looked away. The Queen punched him in the gut and he grunted. "Show him," she said menacingly. "Or you won't be the only one harmed when you disobey me again."

Scourge looked at her in fear and anger, then stared at Blackjack in sadness. "Forgive me," he said. An emerald light surrounded him and when it faded, a Changeling, a head taller than the Queen, stood in his place.

"No," Blackjack whispered. "No..."

The Queen cackled and grinned evilly. "Let me teach you something Exile; trust no one. Because, as you just found out, they might belong to my hive."

She turned to the other changeling. "Did you watch the Exile's battle?"

"Yes," he replied, head to the ground. "Yes...and your beast is dead."

"Did you see how he died?"

"He was set aflame and pierced from the inside.

"Yes, but how did the Exile escape the cacoon?"

The changeling was silent. "I'll tell you how," the Queen continued. "It's because he is the Zuo'Trumäg"

The bug looked up at Blackjack, his dragon-like eyes wide in disbelief. He then bowed and said, "Forgive me, Your Majesty."

"Spare me the false formalities, slave."

"With all due respect," the changeling snarled. "I was not refering to you."

The Queen hit his jaw, her horn glowing. Blackjack was then surrounded by green fire and he blacked out.

'-'

Slowly, the stallion regained conciousness. He tried to move his foreleg, but it was held in place with slime. Not again, he thought. He looked around, noticing he was suspended in the air inside a cave, his body covered in thick slime.

"You're awake," stated a voice.

The stallion looked to his right and scoffed in distaste. "Yeah, I am Scourge. If that is really what you are called."

The changeling frowned. "I understand why you are frustrated, My Liege, but-"

"But nothing! You lied to me! You're a Changeling!"

"My Liege, there was reason that I-"

"Yeah, you just wanted to grow strong off of my love didn't you?!? That's what you bugs do, isn't it?!?"

"My Liege-"

"Stop calling me that! Why are you calling me that?"

"Exile," another voice said.

Blackjack whipped his head left and snapped, "What?!?" He immediately regreted his decison. Princess Storm looked at him with concerned eyes. She was heavilly bruised and several bloody cuts ran down her body.

"I'm sorry princess," Blackjack said. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"You're fine," she replied with a slight chuckle. "But you need to listen to that changeling. He's going to get us out of this mess."

Blackjack sighed. "Alright. What is it bug?"

"As I was saying," the changeing replied. "There was reason that I had kept secrets from you. Especially one of this magnitude. You see, My Liege, the rebellion is composed entirely of my kin."

"Why would Changelings revolt against their own queen? Isn't she your mother?"

"No," the bug had an edge in his voice. "We are not like insects in that sense. We wish to revolt because Chrysalis is not the true ruler of these lands. I am."

Blackjack widened his eyes. "What? How?"

The changeling was silent for a moment, his head down. He continued with tears in his dragon-like eyes. "Three thousand years ago, my parents were assassinated in the palace. I was put in the bonds of slavery and Chrysalis siezed the throne.

"Because of her, my kingdom is a barren wasteland, and my people starve. She kept loyalty with riches, slaves, conquest, and mind control. But now, her time has come to an end. Those still loyal to the crown had passed down stories of me through the generations and have disguised themselves throughout the city."

"But why do you want me in your rebellion?" Blackjack asked.

"Because you know ponies who can restore my kingdom to its former glory. Because...you are My Liege."

"What do you mean by 'My Liege' exactly?"

"I mean exactly that. I am to serve you."

Blackjack shifted uneasilly. "But why? I don't want anyone to serve me."

"That is where things get complicated," Storm said. "I dearly hope you will understand. There is a phrophecy that has each of its verses in a different language. Only the ruler of certain nations may view it."

"Okay, so what about it?"

"Neither of us know much," the changeling said. "Other than this verse: From the ashes a Hero shall rise. From the ashes the Tyrant. From the ashes a King. From the ashes the Zuo'Trumäg. From the ashes Noble-Spirit-of-Fire. Child of Stars and Space...Lord of destruction and renual...Child of Chaos through pain...Bearer of Shadow and Flame. The Courage he has will complete the fight, though it will take many to end the world's Darkest Night. My father, Gan, fortold it would be three thousand years later when the phrophecy would be fulfilled. That time is now."

"Alright, so there's a very important phrophecy that's going to come true around this time. This applies to me how?"

"Because you are the Zuo'Trumäg, the Dragon-Heart."

"I don't follow."

"It is one of the many names that is given to the hero in the phrophecy," Storm said.

"But why are you calling me 'My Liege?' I'm a fiddler, not royalty."

"The hero the prophecy describes is royalty, Prince Blackjack."

The stallion starred in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I'm no prince and I'm certainly not a hero."

"Chrysalis would not lie about something this great," the changeling said. "Not unless she had nothing to lose."

"But I can't be a prince! I lived on the streets my whole life!"

"The hero is the child of Stars and Space, whose name was Blackjack. You are him and he is you."

"That could just be a coincidence! I never knew my parents! I don't even know why they would leave me!"

"Perhaps it is you who left them," Storm said. "From the ashes the Tyrant. Child of Stars and Space...Lord of destruction and renual...Child of Chaos through pain...Bearer of Shadow and Flame. Shadow and Flame. Hmm."

"The prince was the Demon?" Asked the Changeling.

"Yes, I had heard it from another griffon."

"This may complicate things..."

"What are you two talking about?" Blackjack asked.

"My Liege, I have reason to believe your life is not what you think it is. I believe your memories and appearence have been altered because of what you became."

"What I...became?"

"Blackjack," Storm softly said. "You're Shadowblaze."

The weight of her words hit the black stallion hard. "No...no you're lying."

"Blackjack-"

"You're lying! I thought you were my friend, but now I see who you really are! You just want to bring me down even lower than I already am! I'm no prince, I'm no hero, and I'm sure as Tartarus not Shadowblaze! I'm the Exile and that's all I ever will be!"

"You're more than that Blackjack," the Changeling said. "Surely you remember your life in Equestria? Before your exile?"

"That life led to my exile! You can have a revolution without me bug, because I'm staying here to die."

"I promised to get you home!""That was when I trusted you!""You need to trust me Exile? I'll give you a reason to trust me! If you do not trust me, innocent people will die, you will remain a slave, and you will never see your friends in Equestria again!"The stallion looked at the ground, his eyes teary. "You're right...I need to trust both of you. But unless something exdrodinarlly terrible happens to my mind, I will never believe that I am the hero, let alone Shadowblaze.""We understand," Storm said. "More than you know. All three of us are seperated from those we love. In that sense, we are very much alike.""I have a wife," the changeling said. "Chrysalis took her from me, in order to control me. Even if you do not accept who you are Exile, know this: Chrysalis' assassins killed my mother. Prince Blackjack would know how painful that is, especially knowing who killed her. I would love nothing more than to see them at the mercy of my sword."Blackjack suddenly had a sharp pain in his head. His vision flashed and he saw an image of a stallion thrusting a sword into the blood-stained night sky."Blackjack!"He was brought back to reality by Storm yelling his name. "What...happened?""You were screaming. Are you alright?""I'm not sure. I...saw something. Blood...so much blood..."