sol ortus deam clamavit, vigilantes serpentis manducare eius farin sanctorum ignis et lucem
As I lay here, battered, weak, injured, and burning, I can now truly bask in the beauty of my glorious life giving entity know as the sun.
It has been giving its own life force for eons to the tiny, blue planet that our species inhabits. It’s never ending shine gave joy and life to the creatures that roam our land, it is worshiped and revered, purely because it exists. Ponies celebrate their life with elated cries of joy and cheers every morning when I give it a push to move across the sky. I have been doing this for longer than I wish to remember. However, I have never loved my sun as much and as passionately than this moment.
As much as it seems absurd and un god-like, I have become disconnected to the glory, and I have taken for granted its healing light and power. Over the years I have grown a complex in which overly and completely defies my mission to bring the sun and its alleviating luminescence to the beings of this realm. In my mind, I became the only and most powerful being that could solely wield the power of the sun, nothing could challenge my might and capability. No pony, griffin, dragon, changeling, minotaur or any creature would be, or ever be, as influential, vivid, and formidable than me.
But as I look upon my now, only thing in this reality, at this moment, that I care for anymore, I beg and plead and pray silently that this unimaginable torment of horror will end. The tears in which I weep evaporate off my cheeks, burning and scaling what skin I have left on my face. although the feeling of searing pain has left my crippled body, I can still feel the incredible sorrow and guilt for my sins. I was arrogant, and thought I could stop this inconceivable apocalypse that has befallen on my shoulders and of the backs of all who live on this planet.
Looking out through the immense hole in the side of the castle, I can see the true meaning of Tartarus, or hell, which this sight which my eyes behold more fits the description that he told of.
The sky had turned to a bright, blood red color that made me sick to my stomach. No pegasus or any flying creature dare attempt to fly in this searing heat, and those who did quickly burst into flames and boiled from the inside out. But most importantly, nothing living would dare to be in the same sky asit.
Down below, the streets of Canterlot were a chaotic wasteland. Anything and everything that was even slightly flammable had promptly exploded into fire and burned to ashes, if the material allowed it. unfortunately for ponies, whom I have sickenly observed, have just enough flammability to catch fire and burn slowly, literally turning anypony who was outside into a walking candle wick. But yet the streets are bare, save for a few burning bodies and the smoldering remnants of those unlucky enough to survive the holy cleansing. I can still hear the screams that have long since faded from the open, gaping, chard mouth of the ponies who lived through his(or her, I cannot discern gender of the blackened bodies)cleansing.
They drag half of their, black, scorched, bag of bones through the streets, screaming silently for the forgiveness of their sins. some of the living corpses had lost their hind legs and had began dragging themselves throughout the streets of the city, much like the others who survived. No gore or visceral had come pouring out of their bottom half, for the wound had been cauterized and sealed up, which had in turn, caused a baking effect to the organs still trapped inside.
Oh goddess the sound,
the horrid sound of the survivors popping and sizzling as they exploded from the inside out. soon enough, I heard the now familiar noise of the toasted pony burst, and spray boiling blood and viscera onto the walls and cobblestone of the street. Thankfully for me, it rounded a corner to another street before promptly dieing, as if I need another image of a once living and happy pony, explode and die out like the very thing that killed them.
Speaking of which, I turned my gaze to the sky and look toward my dying life, the sun. I could see that already half of its mass has been consumed by the immensely large serpentine shadow that snaked across the sky. its unimaginably dark, black form rose up from the horizon and coiled around the sun like it was constricting it as it devoured the star’s energy.
This…creature, no no, this thing should not even fall under the category of a creature, for it displays the actions of a force that no conscious being of any universe could comprehend, yet we witness the thing do the impossible. It’s jaws had opened wide and began sucking the plasma and light into the impossibly, unfathomable, endless black hole that is it’s mouth.
For the sake of comprehending this entity that I have come to know of absolute destruction, chaos, evil and death, I shall describe the closest thing I can imagine that fits its form.
This thing that rose from whatever unholy, plutonian void in which it previously resided, can be closely related to a giant, snake made of the blackest, darkest hue that could, and will drive beings lower than itself mad. But yet calling it snake is no where close to what incomprehensible appearance that it holds to itself. At the ends of the sky, an inky black void marched closer and closer to fully overtaking the world in darkness, much like the never ending night in which my sisters’ evil doppelganger preached of. Yet no amount of terror could be imagined by The Nightmare that could rival that of the snake's own, for I can hear those imprisoned forever in Tartarus scream and wail, not from their own judgment, but at the horror that the living are witnessing. They scream out of pity and empathy for those who live this nightmare, even if for a short time. It's void like body seemed to slice a hole in the universe itself, and its own inky, black essence bled and swallow up into our realm as it expunged life on our planet, and possibly, the universe.
Looking back at my destroyed and burned throne room, I see the walls and floors covered in words of an otherworldly origin written in blood, etched into the marble floor, or carved into the bones of my top mages. Those words in which my mages and I have fruitlessly tried to use to reverse this hell and cast the demon away, have tainted my soul for even uttering a syllable of it.
E profundis inferni in silentio
The very words which he used to summon our doom, were the ones we used to try to save ourselves. They were the key to cast out this demon from our domain, the sentence was the first verse in a long, incomprehensible spell that only those who know and have an extensive amount of knowledge on this kind of magic could utter or even imagine. I pity those who where unfortunate enough to know of the full spell, even for the one who summoned the thing is experiencing a hell worst than my currant damnation.
The words glow with an extremely powerful dark magic which this universe has never seen. Yet out of all the runes, one stands out the most. One word that will haunt me though all of eternity should my soul continue to exist, a word that labels this being of hell, a name that should no living thing should know of, nor should be spoken, written, thought of, or labeled as. I have committed an unforgivable sin to all things holy by just even thinking of it. Nonetheless I continue to say this word in my mind over and over again as my brain tries to reason and comprehend its true and horrid meaning, for only such a terrible name should be used for an equally horrifying being.
Apophis
Author's Note
This was really fun fic to write, I hadn't had a chance to write a dark fic in awhile. I hope you guys liked it and I'll continue the story if it becomes popular, I have a lot of ideas for the back story of the fic.
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