SiE003, May 21st: Somewhere at sea, approx. 772 miles southeast of the island of Tempus
Ugh, the smell. The first thing that Daring Do consciously realized was the scent wafting into her nostrils, and before she was even able to attempt recognition of it, her nose wrinkled up and she began to cough, overwhelmed by whatever it was that had taken it upon itself to invade the air around her head. Slight tidbits of feeling…a tingle here, a prick there, and lots of aching…crept back into her upper body as she hacked and choked on the offending gaseous material; it was a very thick scented smoke, of that much she was sure. Despite her best efforts, she felt it filling her mouth, an odd sensation the likes of which she had not experienced before: it felt almost like a physical presence, as though her cheeks were swelling with water. It was extraordinarily unpleasant and Daring began to panic, attempting to turn her head but being completely unable to do so, but the moment it touched the back of her throat, Daring felt her body loosen up and relax completely, feeling somehow calm and peaceful. The miasma which had been threatening to strangle her moments ago was now nothing more than a tranquil scented perfume, and she felt consciousness slowly stream back into her. There was no rush to get up, nothing harassing her or waiting for her to wake. She did not have the slightest idea where she was, but it was a nice place; she was sure of it now.
Emitting a loud yawn, Daring forced her eyelids to flutter open, but her vision was so blurry and the lids were so heavy that she had no choice but to allow them to droop closed after only a second or two. The peculiar smoke, though very relaxing, was also making her feel even more lightheaded, and the only thing she could truly feel was that she was sitting in an upright position in what felt like a thick, tall wooden chair covered in overly-soft fur which possessed a texture she had not experienced before. Daring had no memory of a chair like this, and though she was still very groggy, her ever-vigilant mind slowly concluded that somepony must have placed her there in her sleep. That’s never a good sign.
As though a curse had been broken, Daring instantly felt strength flow back into her body as she made this troubling realization, and she immediately began to squirm and flail her hooves about, opening her eyes at the same time. The first thing that she saw was a hard wooden floor rushing up to meet her; she had lost her balance in the chair and fallen forward during her fit. Daring reflexively thrust out her hooves to break her fall and then pushed herself off the ground, still feeling dazed and not fully aware. She wondered if she should have let herself hit the floor full force in the hopes that it might have allowed her to regain control of a couple more of her senses.
Daring clumsily regained her balance, not at all feeling like the spry pony she normally was. Her eyelids began to drift open and closed at random intervals seemingly outside of her control, as though they we being controlled by some sort of invisible puppet master, and through her blinks, Daring looked behind her and saw that she had in fact been seated in a very large chair constructed from what appeared to be mahogany and covered in the strange fur-like substance she still couldn’t manage to identify. Daring decided to sit back down until she felt less dizzy, lest she fall again.
Daring sank into the chair sideways and took the opportunity to cast her eyes around the room that she was in; she was slowly regaining control of her eyelids at this point and was not blinking as frequently. Leaning her head back against a fluffy section of the chair and taking a slow, steady breath, she was quite surprised to see that she was inside what appeared to be a grand library or the large study of somepony who was very rich and likely very intelligent as well. The dome-shaped ceiling seemed to hover about thirty feet above Daring and was appeared to comprised of one large sheet of glass that had designs and patterns welded into it by some means (probably magic) to make it look as though several dozen pieces involved in the construction.
Daring was momentarily taken aback at the beauty of the night sky and all of its stars as she stared through the ceiling…there was not a cloud in the coal black void situated above her, and the full moon was out and shining down on the library with all its luminescent splendor, casting strange, radiant beams with the ability to both unnerve and mystify across the smooth floor and the tops of shelves. The remainder of the room (that Daring could see) was mostly filled with gargantuan bookcases which nearly climbed to the glass ceiling, and they were all crammed to what looked like their maximum capacity with books of all shapes and sizes: fat tomes containing thousands of pages to extremely tiny, nearly hidden manuals possessing only a few pieces of parchment, ancient writings nearly crumbled with age to books that looked like they had been bought fresh from the store that day, along with scrolls, blueprints, canvases, trinkets, and even a stone tablet which was crammed sideways into a shelf slightly too small for it and appeared to be on the verge of cracking. Obviously having run out of room on the shelves, whoever owned this eccentric archive had also created several dozen piles of what Daring could only define as ‘organized clutter’: stacks of miscellaneous items that were all related in some way, most of which were forced into cubbyholes or crawlspaces in order to leave the paths in between bookcases clear, although in a few overly-crowded locations the piles had spilled out from their hiding places and formed small barriers between shelves, which could be a slightly dangerous hazard to somepony if they were completely blind. The bookcases and piles of clutter sat on the left and right sides of the chamber, while a clear space (something that Daring was astonished to see considering how many items were lying about) perhaps ten feet wide lay in the middle of the room and housed very little save the chair that Daring was seated in, a thick oak table positioned a few feet in front of the chair (which Daring suddenly realized she had been dangerously close to cracking her head on earlier), and a very large hearth which housed a blazing, crackling fire (the source of the smoke that had been causing such aggravation moments ago) up against the room’s rough stone wall. Daring couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw the flames flicker different colors as they burned.
Daring continued to examine the room from a seated position until she convinced herself that she had sat there for long enough, and very slowly she got to her hooves, taking care not to repeat her earlier accident. Though she was still a bit groggy, she was pleased to see that she was not feeling as tipsy as she had earlier, and she took a couple steps away from the chair until she was standing directly in front of the oak table. Now that she had mostly recovered, her next mission was to find out where in Celestia’s name she was.
As Daring stood, her limbs quivering gently, she came to the realization that everything in the room was designed for somepony much larger than she was; she had only been taking up about half of the chair’s surface as she sprawled out in it, and the oak table in front of her came up to her mouth, which meant that she had to stand up on her hind legs and place her forelegs on the table itself in order to get a decent look. On the surface sat a large paper scroll with a few sentences written on it in blank ink along with a sleek griffon feather quill resting next to an inkwell, a miniature mechanized globe that contained a map of the known world carved on it which spun around endlessly inside the frame of a gyroscope, and a book which appeared to be slightly older than Celestia herself with crumbling pages caked in an extremely unpleasant mold-like substance entitled, ‘Embracing Dementia: A Sane Pony’s Guide to Delving into Madness’. As she read the title, and read it again, Daring felt a strong desire to kick the book into the large fireplace, but it soon subsided. She pushed it roughly to the side, tying not to touch the moldy parts, in order to drag the scroll closer to her so that she could read it. Though Daring was fluent in three languages and familiar with half a dozen more, some of which were completely unknown throughout the Realm, she could not make heads or tails of what was written on the scroll, concluding it to be either written in an esoteric foreign tongue she had not yet studied or, more likely considering the sloppiness, the random scribblings of a madpony.
Rolling the scroll up and placing it next to the quill and inkwell, Daring turned away from the table and looked behind the chair she had been seated in, finally gazing upon the other half of the room. It possessed the same layout as the part she had already observed: bookcases and piles of organized clutter, but to her great delight there was also a large double door at the end of the room about a hundred feet away. Daring was truly impressed by the size and scale of the library and would ordinarily have taken an hour or six to explore the area thoroughly, but at this point she wanted nothing more than to exit and find out exactly where she was, preferably without running into the owner of the scroll and the odd book.
As Daring began to trot down the clear pathway towards the door, she got her first glimpse of the paintings. They were large, exquisitely detailed canvases covered in colored oils of all sorts positioned on the walls in between bookshelves in such a way that Daring had not been able to notice them while sitting in the chair, and she soon wished that it had stayed that way. She observed that the paintings had some relation to the piles of items they were located near and, she assumed, the books belonging to that section of the library: for example, a picture of a large galleon crewed by weathered sailor ponies was located above a couple of piles overflowing with rusty navigational equipment and faded star charts, and a portrait of a massive, bloody battle between two pony armies was hanging above a collection of loose weapons and a full set of pony body armor. The paintings were not disturbing at first; in fact, Daring found them slightly entertaining to look at and certainly masterpieces in their own right, but as she continued to walk towards the end of the room, they became increasingly detailed and unnerving. A painting of an imposing brown griffon wearing a black hood and pushing a red-hot piece of metal in the shape of a crescent moon against the flank of an imprisoned pegasus who was clearly screeching in agony was located by piles of religious and spiritual objects, and a canvas depicting a group of depressed-looking earth ponies working in what appeared to be a mass grave filled to the brim with their dead fellows was in a section dedicated to the study of the Pre-Classical era and the War of the Three Tribes. Daring found that the paintings got more and more disturbing the closer she got to the door, and eventually she forced herself not to look at them and to instead keep her eyes fixed on her destination. The slight sense of anxiety she had felt earlier was gone and replaced by what was nearly full blown panic; even the calming sensation that the scented smoke had given her had dissipated. Though Daring Do had gotten herself into much more dangerous situations, an overwhelming sense of ominous dread was filling the pony in such a way that she was having quite some difficulty keeping herself composed. She kept her head together, however, and stalwartly advanced towards the door, ignoring a large pile of torture equipment lying a few feet to her right.
After walking what seemed like the length of Equestria and back, Daring reached the double door and grasped one of the two doorknobs (which were, for some reason, in the shape of chubby pony heads with their tongues sticking out rudely), jiggling it in both directions until she heard something click and then pulling the door open triumphantly. In the second that followed, unfortunately, all of Daring’s hope evaporated: the door opened to a wall of solid stone, the same stone that comprised the wall of the rest of the room.
Daring released the doorknob and began to pound on the stone with her hooves as though hoping it would suddenly crumble and reveal the exit, or perhaps that she would melt right through it and find herself in a secret chamber. When this did not happen, she whirled around and stared back into the middle of the library at the large chair, breathing very quickly and fluttering her wings in anxiety. As if her situation was not bad enough, another sensation was beginning to wash over her, a new but still very troubling feeling: something else was in the room with her.
Daring looked up at the glass ceiling desperately and decided what she would do; spreading her wings wide, Daring took off into the air, her body positioned in such a way that she would strike the glass ceiling with her front hooves at an angle. She could still see the moon and stars still shining brightly above her invitingly, and prepared to crash into the ceiling in the hopes that it would shatter. She was not staying trapped in this room at the whim of whatever insane pony had taken her here, even if it meant getting cut up by a few shards of glass or bruising her hooves. She was going to free herself.
The bright fire that had been blazing was suddenly snuffed out, casting the room into complete darkness save for the moonlight coming through the ceiling. At the same time, a voice began to talk to her…a smooth, unnaturally deep male voice which sounded impeccably calm.
“Don’t bother with the ceiling Miss Daring, it’s not going to shatter no matter how many times you kick it. You see, nothing actually exists outside of this room at the moment, in your current state of mind…save for the two of us.”
Daring barely noticed the voice at first as she was so focused and slammed into the glass hard with her two powerful front hooves. Instead of shattering as glass of this thickness should have, however, the kick did nothing except send a vibration down Daring’s body, starting from her hooves and slowly running through the rest of her. When it got to her wings after a few moments, she lost control and began to drop from the sky, landing painfully on top of one of the bookcases and sending a cloud of dust shooting up into the air. The fall was only a few feet, but it still left Daring feeling disoriented and in pain, and she let out a groan as she folded her wings and shook her head vigorously.
“I suppose I can’t count on you taking my word on anything during our first meeting,” commented the voice from the floor below “Or pay any attention at all, for that matter.” Finally comprehending the presence of the voice for the first time, Daring jumped so high that she nearly hit the ceiling again, and then peered off the edge of the bookcase she was on in an attempt to find the source. By the light of the stars coming from above her, Daring could see what appeared to be the vague outline of a very large pony (or maybe a small horse) immersed in a cloud of shadowy darkness. Daring Do saw the figure’s head tilt slowly up at her and she quickly looked away, slinking to the middle of the bookshelf and feeling thankful that she had landed somewhere where the figure could not reach her.
“W-who…what are you?” Daring gasped out, peering over the edge of the bookcase again apprehensively.
“When I was living, I was known as Nehmesh Hearthwarmer, and I was the most knowledgeable and acclaimed historian in all of Equestria, so they say…well, technically Equestria wasn’t founded until after I was dead, so perhaps I should say the land that would eventually be named Equestria. The library that we are in now was my private study, though it was unfortunately reduced to nothing but a pile of smoldering ash as of a few hundred years ago. I hope you are not offended by the clutter; when one seeks to learn everything there is to know, a bit of a mess is inevitable.”
Daring could detect a vague hint of nostalgia and longing in Nehmesh’s voice and watched (her eyes had now adjusted to the darkness and she was able to see the library fairly clearly) as the shadowy pony began to walk down the aisle between bookcases, absent-mindedly checking the spines of books and humming a tune Daring recognized as an old holiday carol to himself as if he had completely forgotten about her. The more she watched him, the less fear she felt welling up inside of her, and after a few minutes of being completely ignored by the wandering spectral pony, Daring decided that perhaps this creature wasn’t as malevolent as it appeared and decided that a conversation might be more beneficial to her if it was had on level ground…though she was prepared to soar back onto the top of the bookcase if need be.
Daring landed out in the open section of the library several dozen feet behind Nehmesh, who was flipping through the pages of a worryingly dusty tome entitled ‘Macabre Dabblings in Modern Eqvine Ælchemy’, ignoring a few loose pages that slid from the book and drifted lazily to the floor as he skimmed it.
“This was always a favorite of mine. Such wit!” Nehmesh laughed. Daring paid no attention as she hesitated for a second as though considering her words, and then spoke slowly and clearly.
“Is this a dream?”
“Of a sort,” said Nehmesh attentively as though the two had been talking the entire time, placing the book snugly back in its hole on the shelf and turning towards Daring while keeping his distance, obviously sensing how uncomfortable she was, “The more accurate term would be ‘vision’. You see, in a dream, you are simply letting yourself go, allowing your stressed mind to wander where it may, but that is not the case here.” Nehmesh stopped talking for a second and let out a long breath of air, then continued. “Do not be too alarmed when I tell you this, child, but you are being watched. And I don’t mean by me.”
Daring frowned and peered around the library uneasily.
“Oh, he’s not in here. He is currently keeping an eye on your unconscious body as you slumber below the deck of The Seahorse en route to the Ungrazed Lands…a rather frivolous sounding expedition if you ask me, but who knows, maybe you’ll find something of note down there.” He cleared his throat quickly and began to repair the situation before Daring even had a chance to voice her discomfort, “You mustn’t worry now, your observer has no wish to harm you…in fact, it is of utmost importance to him that you remain completely intact…and he has informed me that he will speak to you in person when he thinks the time is right. But as of now, he has sent me to act as a messenger to help guide you through the days ahead…and believe me Miss Daring, you will need my help.”
Daring did not respond, nor had she mentally processed anything after what Nehmesh had said about her being watched below the deck of The Seahorse. Daring had entered this library-or rather, awoken in it-with no recollection of where she had been or how she had ended up here, but as Nehmesh uttered these words, all of her memories came flooding back into her mind: the royal expedition to the mysterious islands beyond the Realm of the Alicorns which were known by the common folk as the Ungrazed Lands, the loyal crew consisting of some of her best and most trusted friends and colleagues that was planning on exploring the new lands with her and documenting their discoveries, and even the horrible storm the night before which had showered the ship with rain and created such turbulent seas that half of the crew ended up losing their dinners over the side of the ship. The startling renewal of all her memories, coupled with the information that someone she was unaware of who evidently had the power to command dreams was watching her, was a bit overwhelming, and she said nothing to Nehmesh, instead staring passed him and towards a large picture of some airborne griffons on the wall.
“Enjoying the painting, are we?” Nehmesh turned around and absentmindedly began to speak in an entirely different tone: that of an aging old collector who was eager to convince his skeptical guest that the apparent junk littering his room was actually a collection of priceless treasures, “Yes, yes, yes, the artist was a good friend of mine, a sweet lass by the name of Summer Sonnet, I believe. Massively talented mare that one, deserved a much better fate than peddling wares in the cheapest unicorn marketplaces while all three tribes were at each other’s’ throats!” Nehmesh turned back towards Daring and began to lazily walk towards her as he rambled, but when he noticed that she did not back up…or even react…as he drew nearer, he realized that it was not the painting that she was fascinated with.
“Oh, I see what’s happened.” Nehmesh looked down at his hooves solemnly as though a very depressing realization had just entered his mind. “I can’t believe myself; my very first meeting and I’ve already gone and broken one of the biggest rules. I never was much good at following directions, I’m afraid. I wonder if that has anything to do with why they executed me…”
Nehmesh was making futile attempts to provoke a response from Daring, and though she ignored them, she came to her senses on her own within a few moments with enough energy to make Nehmesh jump. “I need to wake up!” she said loudly, kicking her back left leg with her other hind leg as though hoping this would cause her enough pain to snap her out of the trance she believed she was in.
“You will in good time,” said Nehmesh, pleased that Daring was responding again. “It was foolish of me to tell you that you were being watched; I’m afraid I have a talent for making things sound much more morbid and dramatic than they really are. He’s not really…erm…physically there, he just…he…”
There was a long pause as Nehmesh stumbled over his own words.
“Just trust me when I tell you that you are not in any danger from him; in fact, he will be protecting you until he declares that he is ready to meet you face to face, and probably for a good time after that as well.”
“Who is he?” Daring blurted out the moment Nehmesh was finished speaking. The shadows around Nehmesh’s body flickered briskly as he turned back towards a bookshelf, brushing his hoof against a massive leather-bound book entitled ‘The Blood of the Six Pointed Star’.
“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell you just yet, Miss Daring, we must have patience. I’ve already broken one of the rules I was given: don’t inform Daring Do that we know where her physical body is located, and I don’t plan to disobey anymore…if I do, he may very well find somepony else to be his messenger to you, and that wouldn’t suit my purposes well at all.” Nehmesh then paused and took a long, deep breath, and Daring braced herself, knowing she was likely in for a full explanation.
“You see, I’ve been asleep since the day I was brutally executed for treason against the crown by the unicorns--by my own people--during the War of the Three Tribes, all long before the time of the alicorns that now govern your happy little Realm, but it turns out that my ‘employer’ possesses the power to awaken beings from their sleep, at least in a…a more spiritual sense. My bones still litter the courtyard in the ruins of the unicorns’ ancient castle, but at the same time, I am here.” He glanced up at Daring Do as if searching her face for approval, and quickly added, “And don’t mind the shadows, they’ve been following me around since the day I foolishly decided to peek my curious snout into that forbidden tome of dark magic. Now that I think of it, perhaps that was why they decided to have me executed…”
Daring leaned against one of the bookcases and sighed; this strange pony did seem to have an affinity for rambling. She cleared her throat loudly, which stopped Nehmesh halfway into describing the horrific magic spell that the unicorn inquisitor had used to disintegrate his insides while leaving his skin intact for a clean death.
“I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly, “But this still doesn’t make much sense. Even if I do believe some ‘otherworldly’ creature is stalking me and sent a scatterbrained old ghost to speak for him, you still haven’t told me why! What does he want with me, and why would he want to control my dreams?” Daring sounded somewhat frantic and ruffled her mane violently with her front hoof. “I have to wake up!”
“Very well. Since it’s obvious you are not enjoying our talk, I’ll leave and let continue about your business. But be warned: though neither he nor I mean you any harm, he intends to send me to you to give you advice whenever he deems it necessary, and I will have no choice but to obey him. It’s either that or go back to sleep, and I just woke up!”
Nehmesh’s body slowly began to fade away, as did the room around Daring Do. She realized that she was finally regaining consciousness, for real this time, and suddenly felt foolish: there were so many more questions that she had wanted to ask, but she had been so concerned about this unexplainable state that she had forgotten to inquire.
“Miss Daring, the next time we meet and every time afterwards, you will need to be paying attention. This meeting was, in theory, a way to introduce myself to you in a casual and non-threatening way, a technique which I obviously need to improve upon. We’ll end up back here most of the time, but occasionally, he will send us to other locations as they were in the past: they will also have information which I’m certain you will find quite helpful if you listen to it and learn from the mistakes that hundreds of thousands of others have so foolishly made. Yes, I believe the entire Realm might be able to benefit from what you see.” Nehmesh’s voice suddenly became somber and serious as the room continued to fade, leaving Daring with nothing to look at besides the faint outline of Nehmesh’s body and the legion of shadows that surrounded it.
“The Madness is on the move, Miss Daring, and it will overpower your alicorn rulers without effort, considering that it was the One who created them. The Realm of the Alicorns will be decimated, Daring Do, and everything you know will be just as this library is: a distant memory, lingering behind in the most impractical of places while nature overtakes its foundation once and for all.”
This simple statement prompted perhaps two dozen more additional questions off the top of Daring's head, each seeming more vitally important than the last. Suddenly the destruction of the Realm was being brought up, and Nehmesh didn’t seem like the kind of pony to play practical jokes. She shouted out to Nehmesh, demanding that he restore her to the dream state so that she could find out more, but he slowly shook his head…something that Daring could barely make out at this point. Daring cursed, her real eyes flickering as her consciousness began to dance back and forth between Nehmesh and her physical body.
“Oh, and one more thing before I take my leave, Miss Daring. It seems that you ‘civilized’ folk prefer to keep your sanity intact, and I regret to announce that I must advise you otherwise. The Madness feeds off of sanity, you see, the sanity of the strong willed and bright minded most of all, and, frankly, the only way you can possibly seek to protect yourself from this foe is to reduce what it has to consume. I understand that this may seem a ridiculous proposition, but when the time comes, you will thank me.
“See you tomorrow.”
With these final words, the dream dissipated entirely and Daring’s eyelids popped open, the rough scent of salty sea air and rotting seaweed smashing against her nose while the assorted snores of her dozing comrades filling her ears. Her heart pounding out of her chest, Daring quietly lay her head back down on the hard wooden floor upon which she had been forced to sleep, her mind filling with confusion and doubt as the conversation in the vision began to cycle rapidly through her head.
SiE003, May 21st: Northern Crystal Mountains approx. 24.3 miles north of the Crystal Empire
Disgusting, Flash Sentry thought to himself, looking on as his new companion sank his four remaining teeth…if the horrifically deformed brown lumps in his mouth could be considered such…into the now crispy skin of the small, furry critter he had been roasting on the flickering campfire for the past ten minutes, occasionally prodding at the creature’s rump with a hoof as though afraid it had not cooked properly. The wizened old hermit, producing strange wheezing noises as he chewed, extended the skewered rodent towards Flash, but this offer was quickly rejected as the orange pegasus scooted abruptly backwards a few inches to avoid even touching the grizzly thing. Never had Flash Sentry seen a pony consume the flesh of another creature before, and the sight, one which he was being practically forced to endure, was even more disgusting than he could have ever imagined due to the hermit’s disheveled appearance and obvious lack of even the most basic manners.
“Suit yerself, lad,” the hermit chuckled, clamping his jaws down on his morsel and tearing an even bigger chunk from its side, chomping the brown meat gleefully with his mouth open as though reveling in Flash’s abhorrence.
The crackling warmth of the fire’s golden glow spread through Flash Sentry’s frostbitten hooves as the remainder of his body shivered and shook uncontrollably, his front two hooves practically immersed in the flames as his savior, the shaggy brown earth pony whom Flash had never seen before this evening, slowly stood from his seated position, hobbled over to Flash and draped a thick, musty fur blanket around him. Flash removed his hooves from in front of the fire and used them to curl the blanket around him tightly so that only the top of his head was sticking out, warming him significantly even though his flank was still planted in the freezing snow. Even so, he wasn’t complaining: blizzards were a daily occurrence to the north of the Crystal Empire, and to travel this far into the mountains…it was truly a miracle that he had not been frozen in a pony-shaped block of ice within the first few hours of his journey.
“Stitched ‘at together from me own fur!” declared the hermit proudly, sitting back down on the other side of the campfire and resuming his meal as Flash wriggled around in the blanket uncomfortably. Flash stopped momentarily when he realized what exactly the brown pony was talking about, but he wasn’t about to reject something, no matter how disgusting, that might have very well been keeping him alive...well, unless he had to take a bite of the creature the hermit was eating of course. Instead, he just shifted awkwardly, stared passed the hermit at the ice wall behind him and cleared his throat, changing his subject.
“So…you’ve lived up here for your entire life?” he said in a tone of feigned interest. Though ordinarily Flash would have been very intrigued at the prospect of hearing a hermit’s exciting stories, he found himself incapable of becoming invested in this cold; he had only asked the question so that he would not have to watch the hermit eat anymore. He just hoped he would be able to hold out until the blizzard blew over, and then he would go back. Not back to the Crystal Empire, of course, but back the way he came. Despite the fact that his pursuers would never find him here, he would rather risk getting into a skirmish with them than subject his body to these extreme temperatures…and this pony’s repulsive antics.
“Yessir, all me life!” laughed the hermit with a light but unidentifiable accent as a small, horrible grey blob shot from his mouth and landed in the fire, pleased that his guest was initiating conversation. “Well, least as long ‘s I can ‘member; can’t recall nothing what happen’ to me as a colt, ya see! Musta bumped me head or somethin’, but it just ain’t there!”
Flash Sentry nodded absent-mindedly, bobbing his head up and down robotically as he slowly turned it and stared out the doorway into the blizzard as the hermit began to ramble. Though they were sheltered snugly in the hermit’s home (a small igloo-like construct that was nearly too small for the both of them as well as their fire and had holes in both sides which allowed the wind to blow straight through), Flash was still feeling a significant wind chill through the thick, course blanket. On top of that, Flash was feeling restless, not knowing how long the blizzard was going to last and wondering how he would fare if he bolted out the door right now with the hermit’s fur coat. Flash cleared his throat again loudly, stopping the hermit in the middle of his monologue about how he had taught himself to make his first snowball, a skill which Flash had no idea why he would need.
“How long did you say these storms usually last?”
“Heh, well once ‘ere was ‘un ‘at went on fer four months straight, mighty strong ‘un she was! But most o’ the time, they ‘ast a day er two at most.” The hermit chuckled to himself and, staring intensely at Flash, began to dig in the snow to his left with one of his hooves for a few moments as Flash watched with a raised eyebrow. After a minute or so, the hermit reached down into the small hole he had created and pulled a tightly wrapped cloth satchel a couple of feet long out of the snow with his teeth, dropping it in front of the fire.
“Ya don’t seem to be much ‘n the mood fer talk, so how about we get some grub in ya? And don’ you worry yer picky lil’ head, lemmin’ ain’t all I have to eat ‘n here!” Flash Sentry began to shake his head in refusal (as just imagining anything this hermit had touched entering his mouth made him quite nauseous) but then realized just how hungry he was after having galloped and climbed his way through thick snow and pounding winds for most of the day, and suddenly he found his head nodding itself up and down frantically, and he released the blanket from his hooves in order to reach towards the satchel. As blanket fell from around him, the hermit’s eyes widened as though he had just spotted something. Flash froze and waited to see what was the matter.
“Say, don’t recall seein’ ‘dem saddlebags when ya first came crawlin’ in ‘ere,” the hermit drawled as he began to slowly untie the thin brown strings (likely plucked from his mane or tail) that held the cloth satchel shut, “Do ya ‘ave anythin’ else to eat in ‘em? That was th’ only lemmin’ I’ve spotted ‘round ‘ere fer weeks, an’ all I ‘ave left are sum borin’ old blizzard berries.” The hermit stared stoically at the saddlebags, a bit of drool hanging grotesquely from the left side of his lip.
“No.” Flash Sentry had completely forgotten about his saddlebags, which he had deliberately been hiding from the hermit ever since they had met using his wings (as they contained some very valuable cargo), but he had forgotten to cover them back up, and they were now quite visible since the blanket had slipped off his back. Flash quickly grabbed the blanket from the floor around him and threw it back over himself, attempting to cover the bags and remove the hermit’s attention from them. “Just, uhh, some useless things; a candle with no matches, a few bits…”
“Hah!” The hermit let out a mad cackle suddenly, “You ‘ave more than that ‘n them bags, lad!” Before the hermit had even finished his sentence, something that glinted and shone of bright silver flashed inches in front of Flash Sentry’s right eyeball, and the orange pegasus felt a piercing sting across his cheek as he threw himself backwards away from the hermit in shock, smacking against the ice wall of the cave hard and momentarily knocking the wind out of himself. Blinking in confusion, Flash realized that the hermit had pulled a small, slightly jagged knife out of the satchel he’d been untying and was now wielding it, and a drop of Flash’s blood slowly fell from the blade and splashed onto the snow below it. How curious.
Flash didn’t know why, but he was suddenly entranced by the drop of the blood that had just slid off of the sleek iron blade being brandished by his foe. Despite all of the instincts Flash had developed throughout his years of training as a royal guard, the hermit seemed…less prominent now, almost as though he was not there anymore. As Flash gazed at the drop of blood on the snow, he could have sworn that it began to ooze and hiss ominously, as though it was a drop of much warmer liquid that was melting its way through the frozen ground. Another drop, this time from his face, joined the first on the ground, albeit in a different location, and Flash felt his breathing slow. A euphoric feeling was overtaking him. The hermit did not matter anymore, the dagger did not matter anymore, and the freezing cold did not matter anymore. He would be alright.
The hermit held the dagger out in front of him with the demeanor of a ferocious but untrained warrior, his body obviously preparing for a deadly lunge which he would employ if Flash made a move towards him. However, a dazed look seemed to have come over Flash’s face as blood dripped from the thin slice on his cheek, and the hermit, instead of landing a finishing blow on the seemingly oblivious pony, pulled the blanket from Flash and placed the blade at his stomach, running the tip over his frozen chest fluff before dexterously severing the leather strap that held his saddlebags to his body.
“Yer friends told me you’d be a slip’ry one to catch…were ‘ey ever wrong!” The hermit laughed again as he snatched the saddlebags and pulled them away from Flash, expelling a thick gob of reddish-brown liquid similar in consistency to the one he had spat earlier from in between his front teeth onto the ground in front of his opponent, “Terns out yer the best thing to ‘appen to me ‘n years an’ years!” Still pressing the knife against Flash’s chest, the hermit grabbed at the saddlebags with his free hoof and attempted to secure them to his body using the same hoof and his teeth. Grunting irritably, the hermit struggled with one of the straps before fumbling and dropping the dagger onto the snowy ground. The curse that he had instinctively planned to utter over this clumsy mistake did not even have time to leave his lips before Flash’s hoof connected with the side of his head, knocking the hermit directly into the blazing fire.
The hermit’s obscenity managed to escape his mouth this time, and for the next few moments, nothing could be heard but a stream of passionate, blistering oaths as the hermit yowled and rolled off the fire onto the snow, trying desperately to put out his shaggy coat which, unfortunately, the fire was consuming like kindling. The dagger lay uselessly on the ground as Flash leapt over and struck the hermit again across the face, knocking the grizzled earth pony unconscious instantly. The hermit’s surprised eyes snapped shut as he struck the ice wall hard, collapsing in a heap while the few flames he had not managed to put out still flickered across his fur, threatening to burst out into a larger blaze if not dealt with. For a couple of seconds, Flash stood over the comatose hermit, gazing down at him before retrieving his saddlebags as well as the hermit’s dagger, securing the straps around his body and walking out of the cave into the snowy winds. The blizzard had died down, and Flash was not planning on staying here any longer.
As the raging winds whipped around Flash’s body, the horrible chill returned: the one that threatened to squeeze every bit of life out of him until he was nothing more than an empty husk, yet the curious thing was that it wasn’t his body that was growing so fatigued by the cold, but rather something inside of him…as though he was being frozen from the inside out. It was a disturbing, immensely unpleasant feeling, but Flash managed to ignore it as he trudged on, looking back at the hermit’s shelter and seeing only a tiny speck of light that was the campfire. Without warning, Flash dropped face down into the snow and began to dry heave, feeling incredibly nauseous and lightheaded.
“This isn’t where I’m going to die,” Flash muttered softly but strictly after a minute or so of this, as though reminding himself that he was about to break an important rule in some sort of game. He lifted himself out of the snow, now looking much more stalwart and resolute but still shivering uncontrollably. He was wondering to himself what had possessed him to not only run out into the blizzard, but to do so without taking the hermit’s blanket for warmth as he walked. Come to think of it, he didn’t really remember much of what had happened in there…only that the hermit had attacked him, was now unconscious, and that there was warmth inside that shelter. So, feeling rather foolish, he turned himself around and began making his way back to the icy little dwelling, planning on removing the hermit from the shelter and then resting there till morning so the blizzard may have died down and it would at least be light outside. However, a crossbow bolt burying itself into the snow inches from his left rear hoof told him that his plans for the night had just changed.
“Lookie there, Sentry’s first real combat!” came a sarcastic gravelly voice from out of the snow somewhere in front of Flash, the source blocked from Flash’s vision by the wall of raging wind and snow. “A seventy something lunatic with a butter knife who was only defeated after you oh so bravely set him on fire?” The voice then let out a snort as Flash stood his ground, ignoring the words and instead trying to reassess his options due to the fact that the voice was blocking the path back to the shelter. “I’ll never understand why that fool prince thought you’d be a good captain when you’re more incompetent than every single pony under your command!”
A large white unicorn with a shimmering silver crystal coat stepped into view, visibly shivering from the cold but looking triumphant nonetheless as he used his unicorn magic to brandish a large iron halberd with a crystalline blade and point it at Flash Sentry. Flash stared down the unicorn coldly, but before he could do or say a thing, two pairs of unseen hooves grabbed him from either side, holding down his wings while a third assailant grabbed his hind legs, pulling them out from underneath Flash and causing him to fall face-down into the snow. The hermit’s dagger that he had been holding in his mouth fell to the side, tumbling down a very small mound of snow and coming to a rest at the bottom, the blade impaling the snow and causing the knife to stick upward at an angle. Flash had just walked straight back into an ambush, but for whatever reason, he barely seemed to mind. He just kept his glare focused on the silver unicorn, who he knew was the leader of his attackers.
For the second time in a half hour, Flash felt the saddlebags being torn off his back, but he did nothing to resist. It was not until the silver unicorn snatched bags away from his comrades and opened one of the flaps to peer inside that Flash began to struggle, kicking out one of his hooves and catching somepony in the face before he was restrained again. The resounding ‘crack’ that could be heard as his hoof struck one of the ponies squarely in the muzzle was enough to satiate Flash, for the time being.
“Yes! It’s here!” the silver unicorn announced gleefully, laughing to himself and paying no mind to the cries of pain and anger emitting from his companion. “Oh, shut up!” he suddenly spat, closing the bags and placing them on his own back as he whirled around and glared at the pony who had been kicked and was now clutching his muzzle with both hooves, “Or I’ll give you something to scream about!” He stamped his hoof down in front of the pony, inches away from Flash Sentry’s face, in order to emphasis his point. “I could deliver a stronger buck before I even had my cutie mark!” He rolled his eyes and stuck his halberd into the snow as he secured the straps of the saddlebags, much more efficiently than the hermit had.
“Sweet Celestia, why I still live in a place where it gets this cold every year is beyond me,” the unicorn muttered to himself, still fiddling with the saddlebags. The pony that Flash had kicked finally removed his hooves from his muzzle and resumed his duty of pinning Flash’s hind legs the ground, smashing his hooves into the backs of the pegasi’s legs out of spite. Flash did not even unleash so much as a grunt of pain as he looked straight on, not even turning his head to investigate just who was holding him to the ground. Frustrated that he did not get a reaction out of Flash, the pony leaned forward and slammed his hoof into the back of Flash’s head hard enough to cause a bit of blood to fly from one of his nostrils. Still no reaction.
“Easy Featherglider, easy!” chided one of the other ponies, this one a female with a surprisingly deep voice. “He’s our captive, and he’s unarmed. Do not do that again.”
“You’re really going to fight over what to do with him?” scoffed the silver unicorn, who had now finished securing the saddlebags and was in the process of pulling his halberd back out of the snow with his magic. “How about this: who cares what happens to him? We got what we came for, and we’ll get the same reward regardless of whether we bring him or not. He’ll just slow us down, anyway.” The unicorn turned his back on the group and began to walk away into the blizzard, pulling a large cloth scarf over his face to protect it. After a few steps, he looked back and noticed that his companions were still clustered around Flash, unsure of what to do, and with an exasperated grunt, he pulled the scarf away from his mouth and began to speak more harshly.
“Look, when we return what the captain here stole to Shining, I’ll be the new captain of the guards. Listening? Then, I’ll name you lot my lieutenants…that’s what we agreed upon when we came up here,” the unicorn frowned, prodding one of the ponies holding Flash with the blunt end of his halberd. “Just drop him, let him stay here and freeze to death. No reason for us to care. If he comes back, he’ll be executed as a traitor. Now get moving, unless you’d like to stay here and freeze with him.”
“Why don’t we just kill him?” squawked the pony named Featherglider, yanking upwards on one of Flash’s legs painfully. A sharp smack sounded, followed by a wail, and Flash felt the hooves release his legs. There was no more talk from Featherglider.
The silver pony turned away again, and Flash felt another pair of hooves release him, allowing him to freely spread his left wing again. Though he found it curious that they would just let him go, a pair of hooves still pressing down on the right side of his body alerted him that it was not all over yet.
“Hold on Pike,” said the pony still restraining Flash, reaching across his back in order to hold down both of his wings, “We can’t let him go. He’s a traitor to our prince and princess and to the Crystal Empire, and as the soldiers of the crown, it is our royal duty to escort him safely to the palace so that he may be punished according to our law. I cannot allow him to escape justice after what he did...but I will not deny him a right to a fair trial, either!” It was the mare with the deep voice, and she gave Flash a harsh kick to his side, attempting to get him to stand. Flash did so promptly, slowly rising from the snow and standing still by the mare’s side without a hint of emotion on his face.
“They’re not paying us to babysit traitors, they’re paying us to recover the crystal,” the silver unicorn called Pike said in a tone similar to that of a disgruntled teacher explaining very basic math to a student who should know it as the other two ponies, a pale blue pegasus with a golden mane and a bloody nose, obviously Featherglider, carrying a couple of short swords and a crossbow and an undefinable species of pony wrapped from head to hoof in thick wool garments and shivering sporadically with no visible weapons, mane, or tail, trotted over to stand beside the silver unicorn. “And they also did not instruct us to bring back his head. We’re taking the crystal back now, and if you want to stay and drag that useless lump down the mountain with you, go ahead. Just don’t expect a promotion when you get back.”
Pike and his two comrades turned away for a last time before walking away, their bodies swiftly swallowed up by the gale. The remaining pony, an exceptionally large earth pony mare with a very thick brown coat, red mane, a cutie mark depicting a pair of crossed swords, and not a single garment covering her body despite the freezing weather, let out a meager sort of whine before putting a wickedly curved short sword against Flash’s throat, her demeanor suddenly very serious and professional once again.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” said the mare in a very annoyed voice, staring off into the blizzard at where the others had disappeared while still holding the curved blade to Flash’s throat. “Now listen. It is my intention to deliver you to the Crystal Empire in one piece so that you can stand trial and face justice for what you have done, but I warn you that I have been a loyal member of the royal guard for longer than you have even known of our existence, and I won’t hesitate to slay you if you make a single move against me. Now walk, we have a long way to go…oh, and do not speak to me either. I’d prefer if we made this journey as silently as possible.”
The mare kicked Flash again to get him moving as he shakily took a step forward, opening his mouth for the first time since he had been pinned to the ground and allowing a small pool of blood that had amassed after he had been struck on the back of the head to spill out onto the snow. The mare frowned, visibly disgusted as she held her blade tightly against his throat, moving her hoof to avoid getting blood on it and walking alongside him as they followed the hoofprints the other three had left in the snow before they were blown away by the wind.
Flash began to slowly walk forward, following the mare’s movements without question, but as she led him, he noticed something glistening in the ground a few feet to his left: the hilt of the hermit’s dagger was sticking up out of the snow in the exact place where it had fallen. A snowdrift next to the dagger did a good job at concealing it from view, and the amount of snow that fallen in the few minutes the struggle had been occurring had nearly buried it completely; only an inch or so of the hilt was visible at all. Flash subtly shifted directions a few inches to the left in order to ensure that he would end up walking right over the snowdrift next to the dagger, and as they neared the snowdrift he breathed a silent sigh of relief that the mare had not spotted the weapon. While the mare stood on his right side, walking alongside him with her sword, Flash stretched out his wing limply and allowed it to drag along the snow, waiting until the dagger’s hilt was touching it before curling his wing up tightly and scooping up the snow it was buried in, lifting a small pile of snow along with the dagger…he could tell he had snagged it by the way it sliced his wing as he curled it, and despite the stinging pain now flowing through his wing, he smiled to himself.
“I’m surprised at you, Sentry,” commented the mare belligerently, apparently having forgotten her comment on being silent that she made mere moments ago, “I barely knew you, but I find it hard to believe that anypony in our fair kingdom would act in such a way. What sort of madness overtook you that would cause you to steal such a thing from the Empire you swore to protect? The prince himself invites you over, makes you the captain of his guards without second thought, and in three months you have not only committed an act of treason against him, but put the lives of everypony in Equestria at risk. Have you any decency, any honor?”
“Whatever meager amount honor I obtained during my years of miserable service to Equestria’s tyrants is long gone now,” Flash said wearily in a tone much different from his normal voice, stopping dead in his tracks and spreading the feathers in his wing, allowing bits of loose snow to fall from it. The mare kicked him again, irritated that he had stopped, but he did not budge and instead turned his head and looked the mare in the face. The large mare examined him fiercely with her fiery yellow eyes, her head cocked in confusion as she urged him to proceed. “It would have been wiser for you to have killed me when I was down and at your mercy; to have shoved that sword through my skull and been done with it…in fact, I wish you would have, right back there. But what’s done is done. I am on a quest from which I will not return, and I cannot let anypony stand in my way.” He paused for a moment and let out a strange hybrid between a sigh and a shudder as a couple of tears ran down his cheek. “I am sorry for this. Truly I am.”
The mare did not seem to pay attention to a single word Flash spoke. “What are you babbling about? Mov--!”
Flash Sentry planted his hooves deep in the snow and whirled his body around before the mare had a chance to move her blade, uncurling his wing slightly so that the tip of the dagger stuck out from inside of it and ran smoothly across her throat. He felt the edge of her sword break the skin of his neck as he attempted to pull his head back away from the blade, but it didn’t cause any serious harm and he instead found himself focused on the indescribable feeling of her thick outer crystal coat shattering as the dagger sliced through the now exposed flesh underneath. The mare collapsed onto the snow, dead within seconds as shards of crystal flew everywhere and the blade sliced deeply into her skin, severing the carotid artery and causing blood to spray into the air. Looking as though he was about to throw up, Flash threw tucked the dagger back into his wing and grabbed the mare’s sword. As he peered down at her broken figure, Flash felt an incredible mixture of emotions welling up inside of him: sorrow, remorse, fear, hatred, pity…until suddenly, they were all gone, and the mare’s body signified nothing except a well-earned victory, the first of several soon to come. What he needed to do now was to get the saddlebags back as soon as possible, before the tracks of his prey were buried beneath the rapidly falling snowflakes. Flash uttered a silent prayer of remorse to Celestia in his head as he galloped off into the blizzard, his eyes fixed on the only slightly visible tracks the others had made upon their departure.
The three crystal ponies were just beginning their lengthy descent down the steep mountain slope when Flash Sentry was upon them. Spreading his wings as he leapt downwards, Flash dropped from the sky onto the back of Featherglider, pushing him down into the snow and then slashing his throat just as he had done to the mare. The pathetic pony cried out loudly for a second before he was silenced and the other two spun around, readying weapons as they saw the aftermath of the surprise attack and peering down the slope of the mountain nervously as the wind from the blizzard continued to increase. Flash’s wings folded neatly to their side as the wind whipped around him.
Flash sized up the two of them for a moment, then sprang towards the pony that was encased almost completely in thick winter clothing: better to remove the thralls from the picture before dealing with Pike, Sentry’s first lieutenant who was possibly the most skilled at individual combat in the Crystal Empire. However, the heavily clothed pony watched intently as Flash leapt and began to glide down towards him, and countered the approaching pegasus with a hoof smack to the chest. Flash withdrew and folded his wings, allowing the wind to blow him back into the surface of the mountain. He crashed into the freezing snow and struggled to maintain his balance, but to his great fortune, neither of the surviving crystal ponies was attacking.
“Three kills in one evening, Sentry? I'm impressed.” Pike actually managed a chuckle as he lifted his large halberd with his unicorn magic and drew his sword with a hoof, “Guess I let my honor get the better of me back there…oh, wait, it was you who instructed us to show our enemies mercy when they were unarmed, wasn’t it? Well, lesson learned. You’re not going to escape this time.”
“Enough!” Flash scrambled back up the slope and then kicked Featherglider’s corpse down towards the mountain towards the other two. “Give back what you took from me, or else you’ll end up exactly like this. It’s a pity, really; I remember watching him train back in the barracks. Even helped him out a few times with some of his techniques. Strong colt, excellent at airborne combat and talented with a spear. He would have been a wonderful soldier in a few years.”
The heavily clothed pony peered down at the corpse and then up at Flash Sentry, and though no part of his face was visible except his eyes, Flash could sense an overwhelming amount of loathing emanating from the pony. “The Flash Sentry I knew was weak, perhaps, yes!” the pony barked suddenly, catching both Flash and Pike by surprise, “As well as a coward who had never killed even once. I doubt you ever even fought in a real battle! But this Flash knew that fighting wasn’t always the answer, and he knew that there was more to being captain than being able to swing a sword or even winning a single battle! He was kind to his soldiers and showed them respect, and this love is what made him a captain-a captain worth following! Something’s changed you, Sentry, and we’re talking more than a few days out in the cold. This crystal must be even more powerful than we imagined…”
Pike turned and raised an eyebrow at his companion, though this did not stop him from using his magic to twirl around his halberd as though attempting to intimidate Flash with it, “Flash Sentry, a decent captain? Have we been serving in the same unit?” His chuckle gave way to a raucous guffaw.
“I saw greatness in you, Flash Sentry,” continued the heavily clothed pony, ignoring his companion’s mockery completely. “Not the markings of a heroic warrior, no, but greatness of character…you were a leader, a true leader!” Pike fell silent as the heavily clothed pony finished his sentence, and for a few moments nothing was audible except for the rushing of the wind as the three all stared at each other. “I was prepared to let you carry the Empire’s banner into any war, and if it got to that point, to follow you as well, even into death if I had to…but you have betrayed the Empire, my land and the kingdom that I serve, and this I cannot forgive.”
“Now just who do you think you are? Shut your mouth soldier!” barked Pike, stepping between his companion and Flash, “I’m not planning to sit around and wait for you to recite his funeral rites, too!” He then turned to Flash Sentry and puffed out his chest, clearing his throat dramatically.
“Seeing as I’m going to become the new captain once we return to the Empire, I think it is only fair that the two of us settle this feud properly. A duel.”
Flash Sentry said nothing and simply nodded once, pulling out the sword he had taken from the mare but keeping the dagger hidden inside of his wing. Pike grimaced at him as though amused and held his sword, which was larger than Sentry’s, aloft, while also levitating his massive halberd using his magic. It would appear that Flash Sentry was at quite a disadvantage, both in stature and in weapons, but the pegasus did not appear concerned in the slightest. Wielding his stolen sword, he advanced down the mountain slope slowly, making sure to step carefully and delicately to maintain proper footing. The silver unicorn grinned and held his weapons high, as though begging Flash to charge him.
“Come and get me, you bastard!” spat Pike, clanging his weapons together as he suddenly raised his voice to an alarming level in a cry of anger, “COME AND GET ME!”
Flash suddenly leapt from the mountainside as a particularly strong gust blew downwards, riding the wind down the mountain towards the unicorn as he spread his wings and began to glide. As his left wing opened, the dagger that he had been holding inside of it was flung outwards directly towards Pike’s face, which caused him to curse and stumble to the side to avoid it. It barely missed his cheek as he flung himself into the snow, his sword tumbling away from him and rolling down the mountain at an incredible rate. Before he could even regain his footing, Flash was upon him, and the downward thrust of the pegasi’s sword, which would have ended up in the middle of the Pike’s gut, was barely blocked by the shaft of the unicorn’s halberd. His attitude morphing from confidence into one of uncertainty in a matter of seconds, Pike gritted his teeth and kicked upwards with his hind hooves. Despite his efforts to block it, attack caught Flash in the middle of the gut and sent him flying off Pike, and he began to tumble down the mountain a surprising distance before he was able to catch himself on a lone rock sticking from the snow. Quick to seize the opportunity, Pike stood and shook the snow off of him similar to how a dog would, staring perhaps twenty feet down the mountain at where Flash had come to a stop. Pike’s face, which had moments ago been contorted into a condescending grimace, was now locked on perhaps the most serious, steadfast expression to have ever graced his face as he pointed his halberd at where the fallen pegasus lay floundering in the snow and drew it back, poised to hurl it forward with his magic and be done with it. Without speaking another word, he let the halberd fly.
A sudden bang and a shower of sparks startled both Flash and Pike, and the first thing that both of them realized was that the halberd was no longer streaking towards where Flash lay. Instead, it was spinning off to the side wildly, bright yellow sparks emanating from its blade as it plunged itself into a snow pile, sticking blade up and wobbling back and forth fiercely. A split second of silence followed as Pike’s eyes drifted down towards Flash and met with his opponents’, his pupils examining the pegasus as though attempting to determine if he had performed some sort of eldritch incantation which had protected him from harm. A loud cough from beside the two broke their eye contact, and for a second time in just moments, there was silence as they recognized just what was that had deflected the thrown halberd.
It was Shining Armor.
The pony that had been completely inundated with clothing had torn the scarf covering his face away, revealing the Prince of the Crystal Empire and Lord of the North. He approached Pike silently, his expression vacant and elusive as though he was not quite sure what to think of the situation. Flash scrambled to his hooves and folded his wings, wincing as he noticed one of them bent at an awkward angle. It could have been sprained, possibly even broken, but this was of little consequence to him now.
“Y-your majesty!” Pike tilted his head forward deeply in a melodramatic bow, his voice audibly shaking, suggesting that he was replaying earlier events inside of his head and combining them with the knowledge that his prince had been accompanying him the whole time and was not pleased with the results. “I-I…”
Shining Armor brushed passed the blubbering unicorn without so much as a glance, retrieving the halberd from its position in the snow and descending the mountain slowly towards Flash, whose wing was, at this point, becoming quite painful…not that he could have flown away even if it had been in perfect condition.
“I came on this journey to reassure myself,” sighed Shining Armor as he walked up to Flash, the halberd floating beside him gently as the pegasus stood his ground, “I wasn’t completely sure what I was going to find. I didn’t really expect anything, honestly: just a bunch of snow and a week or two of freezing my tail off. But what I found…this…this is worse than anything I imagined as I climbed the mountains searching for you, worse than everything I dreamed up in the week and a half we’ve been trekking through these godforsaken cliffs!”
Pike finally came to the realization that Shining had ignored him altogether and was now watching the two beneath him from afar, his body still shaking slightly as he recalled each and every word he had uttered unknowingly in the presence of his prince that could possibly cost him his promotion and leave him stuck in his position of lieutenant for the rest of his days; a demotion might even be inevitable. However, his eyes began to widen as he saw Shining Armor raise the halberd above Flash Sentry’s neck. Was Shining Armor, perhaps the most passive ruler that the Empire had ever possessed, about to perform an execution on a defenseless opponent, one that he had favored above all others at that?
“You are a murderer and a traitor, Flash Sentry. In the name of our righteous sovereign Celestia, I sentence you to be executed for your crimes against the Crystal Empire, and against all of Equestria.”
Flash Sentry sat perfectly still, his face nearly expressionless as his eyes fixed themselves on the sharp blade floating magically above his neck. In the next few seconds, the blade would come down hard, but this weapon was not designed for decapitations: it would not be able to slice through the bone on its first strike. It might even cut so shallow that Flash would survive the first blow, and be forced to suffer through the agony of waiting for the second as the back of his neck was sliced open. But Flash Sentry did nothing to resist. He knew what he had done. He deserved to die, to die in agony, and this is what he wanted. He only wished that it could have happened before the two crystal guards and even the hermit…that disgusting, repulsive waste of fur and blood…had gotten in his way. Closing his eyes, Flash Sentry inclined his head, stretching out his neck as much as he could and waiting for the impact of the icy blade.
Pike had now recovered enough that he felt comfortable slowly descending the slope, taking his place next to Shining Armor as he eyed the orange pegasus carefully. His primary concern, however, was not with Flash, but with his prince, who had been standing almost perfectly still for an entire minute, leaving the halberd floating in the air several feet above Flash while tears trickled from his eyes.
“Y-your majesty,” began the unicorn in a tone of smarmy politeness, trying to repair some of the damage his crass behavior may have caused earlier, “It is the right thing…ahem…the right thing to do. He butchered them; your soldiers, my comrades, two of the best recruits the Empire had to offer. They’re gone, now. But this traitor, the one who slaughtered them, is still here.”
“Shut up!” barked Shining suddenly, causing the unicorn to jump several inches off the ground in surprise. “Not another word, you…PATHETIC excuse for a soldier!” The unicorn saw his chance of glory evaporate instantly as his face turned even paler than it was before.
“Flash Sentry was a better soldier the day he joined the Canterlot guard than you could ever dream to be, Pike! He knew how to give orders, and he knew how to obey them. He was not the best at physical activities, but he didn’t need to be! He…he knew…” Shining Armor took a deep breath, his gaze completely torn from the orange pegasus as he berated his quivering lieutenant, “He knew how to lead. And what do you know, lieutenant Pike? All you did was mock and ridicule, but was it because he was the pathetic weakling you made him out to be? No, it’s because you were jealous: jealous that he got the position and the glory that you wanted, and jealous because he knew things you never understood!
“But what does that all mean now? Flash Sentry is dead, and all that’s left is a monster…but none of it is his fault. It’s that vile magic, that infernal crystal!”
As though he had had a stunning epiphany, Shining Armor suddenly flipped the halberd around towards Pike quicker than the silver unicorn could react, slashing the strap of the saddle bags with the blade and causing them to drop to the snow. Pike stared at Shining Armor in shock, not daring to move in case what followed was his head rolling down the mountain instead of Flash’s. However, Shining did not continue the attack, but instead dropped the halberd and rummaged through the now lacerated saddlebags, opening and locating the cause of all the commotion: a large chunk of jagged black crystal.
The moment that the crystal was drawn out into the open, a wave of nausea overcame Pike, a wave so powerful that he collapsed to his knees and began to heave and wheeze, coughing and spluttering in a somewhat grotesque display. Though the wave swept over Shining Armor as well, the prince barely reacted, instead grasping the crystal with his magical horn and holding it in front of him, staring at it with malice. The crystal possessed the color and sheen of a piece of obsidian, and was about the size of one of Shining Armor’s hooves, if his hooves were covered in jagged, spiky protrusions of various lengths. A small, soft light seemed to be emanating from the crystal, and it flickered and dimmed as Shining held it with his magic.
Shining Armor frowned greatly at the crystal, inspecting it wordlessly as the other two ponies sat silently, looking on. Finally, Shining pulled off one of the many scarves he had thrown around him, wrapped the crystal up inside of it, and tucked it underneath his many other layers of clothes. He then hooked his front hoof around one of Flash’s, pulling him up off the ground.
“This crystal is not leaving my possession until we return,” Shining commented, nodding at Pike to indicate that he needed help lifting Flash from the ground. “You will walk with him, keep him up, and make sure he does not run. Once we get back, I will decide what to do with him. You will report to the barracks and continue your duties, Pike. Understood?”
But this time, Pike did not respond. He just stood there, motionless. At the same time, the halberd began to rise from the ground behind him: the thoughtlessly discarded weapon had not outlived its use yet. As Shining pulled the weakened Flash from the snow, the halberd descended with great force on the soft exposed neck of the pegasus, instantly severing his head from his body in a burst of crimson liquids which painted the snow and flew into the sky, only to be immediately blown out of sight. In a remarkable display of dexterity, Pike snagged the head out of the air with his magic while at the same time releasing his halberd, only to catch it in his hoof before it fell. This sight was too much for Shining and he released the hoof of the body instantly, gagging and choking in horror as he stared at Pike, terrified.
“These are the true ways of the north,” snarled Pike, holding the head up higher to ensure that Shining could get a clear view. “You petty highborn snobs come in, always playing favorites and always thinking that you know more about our kingdom than…”
Shining had recovered much more quickly than expected and charged Pike in the middle of his rant, his sharpened horn seeking to kill. Pike’s only defense was the blunt shaft of the halberd which caught Shining in the chest and stopped him in his tracks, but it was not enough to prevent the horn from piercing Pike’s crystal coat and sliding a few inches into the middle of his neck. Before the inevitable blood spray hit Shining in the face, he pushed Pike in the chest with all his might, sending the fatally wounded unicorn tumbling backwards down the mountain, just like Featherglider, where he soon disappeared from sight.
By some miracle, Flash’s head had landed resting against his body, preventing it from rolling downhill along with Pike when he had been knocked away. Feeling extremely nauseous from the sight and from what he had just done, Shining nonetheless wrapped his scarves back around his face and sat down next to Flash Sentry’s body.
The prince stayed by his friend’s side for at least an hour, possibly more. Throughout his years of training, he had been forced to memorize the oath recited in unison by all of the royal guards when a noble or one of their fellows passed away, and he quoted it from memory four or five times, always hesitating before coming back and reciting it again. He was also familiar with the funeral rites of the Crystal Empire, and stated the few lines that he could remember as he made up the rest. He spoke loudly and clearly, as though he was addressing a crowd, but before he finished, the sorrow welling up in him was just too great, and he found himself unable to go any further, reverting to silent reflection once again. Eventually, he even dug a crude hole in the snow with the halberd: a makeshift grave for his captain, who would likely be buried under an additional few feet very quickly if the blizzard insisted on continuing. Flash’s body and head were placed respectfully into the hole and Shining filled it in, a process which only took seconds. And with that, Shining turned away and began his long trek back to civilization, alone with nothing but a sinister black crystal to keep him company.
How long Flash Sentry’s body actually lay buried on the slopes of the Crystal Mountain is a complete mystery, but what is known is that a while later, the snow under which he was buried began to shake, as though something walking nearby was disturbing it. And then, something wormed its way up and out of the snow, as if to test to see if the blizzard had finally ended: a single orange hoof, covered in snow and frost. He did not need the crystal. Only the vessel was important.
