SILENCE THE VOICES

Celestia’s day really couldn’t have started better.

From the moment she woke up to raise the sun over the horizon, she knew that today would be a good day. And when the first streams of sunlight peaked out from in the distance, their warmth wrapping around her in a way that she hadn’t had time to stop and appreciate in a long time, her feelings on the day were only cemented.

From then on, her day was nothing but pleasant. Clear blue skies, a wonderful breakfast, and when she went to Day Court for the day, the amount of ponies asking for such inane things as more taxation of the poor was at an all time minimum.

A smile plastered her face all day, and no one could stop it. Not that anyone would.

Of course, as all things do, the good times need to end at some point. Celestia had known this. She had been anticipating it all day, waiting for that one, little thing that would put a damper on her mood.

Something most certainly did. She just didn’t expect it to be this, of all things.

A guard burst through the large throne room doors, coming to a halt at the base of dais. “Princess Celestia! Your Highness! There is trouble in the castle!”

Celestia sighed on the inside. She had known it would be coming. “What’s the trouble…” She looked at the pony’s armor, searching for a sign of rank. She found it. “... Corporal?”

“A creature assaults the castle, Your Highness! We know not what it is, but it has fought its past the garrison at the castle gates!”

Celestia straightened in her seat at that, her eyes widening slightly. Very few creatures she knew of (and she knew a lot of creatures) would be so bold, or so stupid, enough to try and storm her castle all on their own. The place was built like a fortress, there were scores of guards to get through, and then there were the Royal Sisters themselves to contend with. To take all of these things head-on, one would have to be…

… Insane.

Her eyes widened even further at that thought, and a paranoid little bolt of panic shot through her. It isn’t, she told herself. That thing is still safely chained under the city. It couldn’t have gotten out.

… But what if it did?

She had to ask anyway. “What does this creature look like, Corporal?”

The pony before her seemed to pause in thought before replying, “It… Was biped, Your Highness. Pale skinned, scars riddled it’s chest. It was at least two ponies tall.”

Oh no. “Tell me, guardsman. Did it wear a mask?” Even though her voice was calm when speaking to the guard, her insides twisted as she recognised the description.

The guard nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Celestia had shot up from her throne and was halfway out the door, her vast magical senses searching the entire castle for the familiar presence, when she said over her shoulder, “Spread the word, guardsman. The castle is to go into lockdown. No one is to go in or out without my express permission.”

Her magic senses pinged with what she was looking for, and when she burst out of the door, she started to gallop in that direction.

Now she could only hope to get there before the bodies started to pile up.

And her day had been so good until now.

Frankly, I’m not really sure how we got from the crystal caverns under the city of Canterlot all the way to the inside of the fortified castle that was its town hall and home to what was essentially a goddess. I don’t know, and it bothers me.

See, when Krieg wants something bad enough, is fueled by enough rage, then he can sort of… Block me out from seeing what he’s doing. It’s only happened a handful of times, but each time it did…

Well, imagine what it would be like if a mentally broken (not unstable, but truly broken) psychopath with known habits of extreme rage and violence was suddenly bereft of what minimal supervision and reason that he had, and was left to do as he pleased.

It usually involves lots of piles of meat. They might be corpses, but nobody's really sure, given that they can’t actually identify what the meat is.

Anyway, when Kireg’s rage over the absence of his beloved buzz axe suddenly surged into him, it took me by surprise (though it really shouldn’t have, given what I know of the psycho). Most times when Krieg’s rage would be enough for him to go on a rampage, I can hold it back long enough for the fight to either be over, or long enough to convince the lunatic to get the hell out of there. But when I’m not prepared to keep Krieg under control, I really can’t.

So, when Krieg shoved me into the back of our mind, unable to see or feel anything he does, I got worried.

When I finally came back to our senses, I was even more so.

Krieg had, somehow, found his way into Canterlot Castle, had taken on an entire contingent of guard ponies (their crumpled forms littered the hallway), somehow managed to not kill a single one (which was the most shocking part, if I’m honest), and was now standing over a pony he had no doubt kicked to the ground, a sword poised over his head as if ready to bring the thing down onto the pony’s neck. Which is exactly what he was about to do.

Krieg, STOP, NOW!

The sword poised over the psycho’s head paused just before it could begin its descent. His hands started to shake slightly, as though he were still trying to bring the sword down onto his victim. Strangled growling noises forced their way out of our throat as Krieg’s displeasure of being denied his kill was made apparent.

Krieg! Let the pony go! You know our deal!

More strangled noises came from our throat, and Krieg complained, “BUT I WANNA SEE THE INSIDES OF THEIR EYELIDS.”

No, Krieg! You know damn well what I’ll do before I let you hurt the undeserving again!

Krieg groaned through gritted teeth. “WHY ARE YOU SO LOUD…”

Because it’s the only way that I know you’ll actually hear me! It should be noted that, at this point, I was surprised that Krieg had stopped when I told him to. During our time chained to that ceiling, I had tried to talk to him multiple times before, but none of them seemed to get through. I was sure that he had finally just shut me out after so much time.

Anyway.

Krieg’s arms started to shake as he put more and more effort into bringing the sword down onto the pony, who was looking up at Krieg with a face of shocked terror.

Watching some strange thing that you’ve never seen before, who was about to kill you, talk to seemingly no one will do that to you, I guess.

I fought against Krieg, putting all my effort into stopping the sword from dropping. Damn it, Krieg! I will take us both down if damn well have to! But I will not let you harm this pony! So stop fighting me, turn around, and run the hell away!

Krieg kept on making those strangled noises in our throat, our entire upper body shaking, our only visible eye twitching.

Krieg! Do it now!

The psycho snapped. “STOP YELLING AT ME!” He reversed his grip on the sword’s hilt, and brought the blade straight down into his own stomach.

Blood dripped openly from the wound down onto the pony beneath us, who, for their part, started to scramble away from us.

Krieg, with a sword still in our gut, reached down and wrapped an iron grip around the pony’s neck, lifting them up to be brought to eye level. He screamed in the terrified guard’s face, “SHUT-SHUT-SHUT THEM UP!” Then he pitched the pony down to the far end of the hallway we had found ourselves in.

The pony flew into the air, hit the ground, tumbled, and landed at the hooves of another pony.

See, Krieg? I berated the psycho. See her over there? She is why we don’t come here!

Standing there with a groaning, terrified pony at her hooves, was Celestia herself. She was tall, she was white, she had a flowing rainbow mane, her horn was wickedly sharp, and her wings were fanned out in what could only be a posture of intimidation.

Celestia looked down at the jibbering mess of a pony before her, then turned her narrowed eyes up at us.

She didn’t even say a word as her horn flared with bright yellow magic, and a freight train of force slammed into Krieg and I, sending us flying into and through the wall behind us, where we fell a few more stories, only to land, again, on our head in some sort of garden.

I felt and heard our neck snap, only to refuse itself in the span of seconds. Krieg stumbled to our feet, muttering deliriously, “I’M THE CONDUCTOR OF THE POOP TRAIN!”

God damn it, Krieg, I said in pure frustration. Will you start running now?

Krieg just let out a short, manic laugh, spun around in a random direction, and sprinted off.

Oh, I said as an after thought. Could you also get that sword out of our gut? You made your point. Now it’s just annoying.