Into Darkness

"It, it's real..." Bluestreak's voice becomes a shuddered chittering of teeth as the shrouded creature stares it's white eyes into Bluestreak's blue eyes. Its shape is only that of a dragon's, large, but barely visible beneath the shroud of it's own dark hues, even beneath the bright day, light struggles to unveil the beast. Four large legs leave behind a dying forest of grey, with each step the ground itself churns in darkness.

"Too easy" It whispers harshly, a dark mist begins to emanate from its mouth, a cue to make Bluestreak move.

Sliding the blade from his scabbard, Bluestreak finds himself paused into a hesitant thought. How do you fight something larger than life, foretold in your dreams?

The mist flies towards Bluestreak at blinding speed, before being shoved away by another body. The world freezes for a moment as he looks back, Striker is already charging blindingly at the large figure, wings glowing, Aveela is nowhere to be found, and Sword Gear's expression is anything but calm as something sharp begins to unfold in his metallic hands.

Nothing seems to make sense, a dream becoming reality, it was only speculated by Bluestreak's professor, a thought that foresight was a myth. The sudden barrage of Sword Gear's contraptions brings Bluestreak out of his speculative thoughts, each bolt sizzles upon the dark hide of the creature, seeming to effectively harm it, though it does not last long, the hide seals, and then the horrors of a mechanic becomes reality, the airship is bombarded with dark energy, almost as if turning the Spidocks to ash in an instant, the replacement metal upon the airship fairs only better in the fact that the arcane contraptions provided some cover from the true damage. Before long the metallic army retaliates no more.

"That is good whelp, watch, do not delay the inevitable!"

Bluestreak takes a step back, watching Sword Gear get thrown backwards piercing into the metal of the airship nearby from sheer force. Striker's efforts fail in vain as he himself is enveloped within the jaws of the giant monstrosity, gone. Bluestreak's body screams for actions, but his mind fails to respond, body shuddering from terror.

"A hilarious concept, to fight the spawn of the ancestor that struggled to hide"

"S-spawn?"

"Ah, unintelligent soul, you do not remember your father? He foolishly ran to his death, but I did not realize he left behind a wilting legacy"

"S-stop it!" Bluestreak stutters with exclamation, his muscles lock up, refusing to move ever yet.

"The Whelp finally spits a dull venom! Oh how I enjoy this moment" The dark being laughs hysterically.

"Fight!"

"Fight now!"

"and Carry our fury!"

"for thou wieldeth our blade with a true line!"

A collection of voices echoed storms his head, forcing him to move at last, though not him, but some unseen force looses his locked body. The dark being stops suddenly, watching Bluestreak dash right.

"Running will delay th-"

Its words are cut short as Bluestreak's sword propels him past the face with a burst of blue energy, slashing it harshly with satisfying result. It staggers around, recovering from the sudden blow.

"HA! A worthy performance, Bluestreak, but strength is against you!"

Rushing towards the airship, Bluestreak's opponent blasts his path with painful mist, he flaps upwards, dodging the vale and lands on the other side, the dark creature rushes at Bluestreak, clawing and spitting as Bluestreak struggles to dodge its attacks. A blinding light splits a small portion of the creature's belly open as Striker charges out of his prison.

"Striker! You're alive?!" Bluestreak yells over the painful howling,

"I was wondering when you'd take action!" Striker replies over the screeching, the hawk reforms with his friend.

Bluestreak's metallic ear ravages his head with horrible sound, causing him to stop and bear the pain with his head lowered. A dark claw smacks him through the hull of the airship, screeching across sodden boards and eventually thumping against a newly placed cyan wall, the overtone finally subsides. Bluestreak jumps up, smacking his metal ear against the cyan wall of the ship, disabling the device from further incident.

"Not done yet" Bluestreak mutters, charging from his hole back towards the beast, who is preoccupied with Striker after the smite of its claw, a perfect moment to strike.

His sword charges, waiting for a perfect time to dig his weapon into he creature, this time he was in control. It takes notice, flaring dark mist towards him, Bluestreak takes to the skies, circling around the creature, attempting to focus the charge of his sword towards the creatures head, he flies ever higher.

"Blue, ground yourself!" Striker yells, his voice dances with worry.

"Almost there" Bluestreak whispers.

"Blue, don't over exert yourself!" Striker's voice brings more worry. With glowing wings, Striker blinds his adversary, causing the creature to flail without a target.

"Almost....-ACH!" Bluestreak's wings flap opposed to one another, unable to work in conjunction, he finds himself falling towards the ground, his mind becomes a jumble of pain and forgotten thoughts. He watches through his blurred vision as his mind jumbles itself, it was now, or never.

He refocuses the remainder of his mind on the giant creature, and lets loose the charge. It flares him unerringly at a different target than the head. Plunging deep, the creature howls as its chest begins to crack with lines of white. Bluestreak digs it deeper, stopping only at the hilt as his sword hums mysteriously. The rumbling cues Bluestreak to pull the sword out, however it defiantly budges, forcing him to jump from the wound towards the ground without his prized weapon.

The darkness crackles as the lines grow deeper, before finally destroying the dark creature, revealing a colored set of scales beneath, and a reptilian figure any Equestrian would know. Striker flutters around for the longest moment, surveying the fainted beast, before landing on Bluestreak's back.

"So, it was.... being controlled?"

"I dunno..... what did you see in there?"

"Let's not ask that" Striker retorts.

Panic rushes down Bluestreak's spine.

"Aveela, Sword Gear, did you see them?!"

The hawk's head frantically searches before spotting one. "Sword Gear is over here!" Striker flutters over to the dented piece of brittle metal, only to find Aveela glowing red near Sword Gear, wounds close up his before the duo's eyes.

"A-Aveela?"

The words make her jump, the spell taking a new effect on her now. Before their eyes, their pegasus friend slowly turns into a new figure.

"No, that's... no!" The blue pegasus stammers as he struggles to puzzle the pieces together. Aveela, or what was once Aveela, morphs into a dark figure of glowing red, before its real image is shown. A Changeling appears before them, eyes with crimson, white with sailing pupils as they frantically look back to Striker and Bluestreak, her black body is lined on the occasional blood colored markings, her mane and tail appear strangely that of an equestrian's, though with the same flow of color, her legs are not misshapen, the only identity of her changeling presence are a set of sharp fangs poking from her muzzle, and her slit eyes.

"YOU WORKING FOR HIM!!" Bluestreak yells.

The changeling's eyes are wide with fear as she struggles for words "I was,- no,- I don't..." is all that comes out. Striker's face is straught beyond utter confusion, fearfully landing on the wet grass of the clearing behind his friend. The blue pegasus takes a  hoof forward, his eyes deadlocked in hers with fury. A sudden kick of dust blasts him forward at the strange changeling, only stopping barely before a beige earth pony.

"You know, Bluestreak, you really need to stop making assumptions" Sword Gear coughs.

"She's a changeling Sword, I think that's more than enough for assumptions!"

"and yet she healed me, and yet she helped you, and ever yet she stands here, stammering for words! She hasn't run, like a changeling calling for her allies!"

Bluestreak snorts angrily, before stepping away, his eyes still locked to the false Aveela.

"Tell me changeling, where's the real Aveela then?"

"I... m-m...." she stutters, but her words fall away.

"I'm waiting" the blue pegasus replies.

"I made her up" She answered aloud, lowering her head.

"There's no such magic as shape shifting.... is there?" Sword Gear questions.

Striker flitters atop Bluestreak's head before joining in. "She's a changeling, or, part of one, doesn't that mean she can do the green woosh thingy in a different way?"

"Indeed she can" A deep voice answers, behind them.

The group jumps as they all swing around towards the towering figure, a dragon. Its red scales shimmered in the morning light with only a hint of grey from its apparent control. His eyes veer down on them, though in a friendly assumed way. None of them know what to say, cuing the red dragon to speak once more.

"Your friend here, is half Changeling, however I cannot read her other lineage" he bellows softly, wings slightly partaking with a gust of wind from up high, waving around as sails.

"And.... and you are...?" Sword Gear's voice trails off, unsure of how to finish.

"Kargis, I apologize for my sudden discreetness, however, you have forgotten the battle you had partaken?" his slit eyes are refreshed with a blink before looking around at the wilted and dying forest trailing behind him, the hill burning as strongly as ever.

The group looks to one another for direction with confused glances. Sword Gear gazes on at the hill in dismay, sadly showing he has no power in saving his home now.

"Hm, you may not know what any of you are dealing with, especially you young pony" he points a claw towards Bluestreak, ushering him forward. As Bluestreak nears, he sees a glimpse of his sword, behind the pointed claw lies a glinting metal, the dragon drops it to the pegasus, making a shallow and brisk rapping of metal on grass and dirt. before taking the sword, Bluestreak glimpses up where he had buried the sword, no wound, not even a scar or hint of battle appeared on the dragon, aside from his slightly dull red appearance. The blue pegasus nods, before sheathing the sword within its grass woven blanket.

"Why were you.... attacking us?" Striker asked, shifting his legs atop Bluestreak's spiked mane

The dragon sighs, a small puff of smoke rising from his nostrils. His look solemns from its friendliness to that of a distantly troubled face.

"I apologize, but it is best left to history, I have.... a lot to catch upon this land."

With that, Kargis extends his wings quickly, causing powerful gusts of wind to slowly push Bluestreak backwards, sending the little hawk flailing away.

Bluestreak looks back to the others, the changeling casting a red glow onto Sword Gear's wounds, minor cuts and gashes trickling with blood from the impact slowly seal up, though, he would have a lot of recovery time for the injuries of his body altogether.

Striker returns to his position from before looking around the clearing of the forest.

"Jolly good, we lost our answering machine" Striker states with an essence of annoyance, a noise of feathers ruffles from above.

"Can we stop with the jokes?" The eyes of Bluestreak point upwards towards the hawk, his head shaking in its own annoyance.

Before the pegasus takes a step, his mind begins to slow down, head spinning with a massive headache, the world around blurs.

"You, don't look too good........hey, are you okay?"

His eyes close.