Prologue

Once, long, long ago, there was nothing but a crushing darkness. Eternal felldrakes ruled over the skies and land. Twisted Archtrees, where they made their homes, dotted the landscape. Nothing changed, for the dragons always kept the status quo. Their hardened scales, as thick as the greatest fireforged steel, were the source of immortality. That is, until one day. The first humans, feeble creatures of the lonely dark, found the First Flame. This granted some, who would become the Lords, godlike powers. They overthrew the great dragons with the aid of one of their own, a traitor who was known as Seath the Scaless. And thus, from the ashes of the Age of Ancients, arose the Age of Fire, the age of the gods.

The sound of weay grunts of effort and the clashing and slashing of steel echoed through the air.One was a shining blade, wielded by a human male, clad fireforged chainmail, a torn and weathered off-white tunic, with a yellow orb, with reddish-orange rays emanating from the center, with a winged helm. His skyforged blade whistled through the air. He was Solaire of Astora, devoted Knight of the Warriors of Sunlight coven, adherent to Gwyn. Rumors persisted that he was the forgotten son of Gywne, a lord of war, stricken from the records by his own father. Was he? Solaire did not know, though he prayed it would prove true. He had longed to seek the sun, and if he was this lost god, it would make sense. He parried another blow from that armor clad foe, the one claimed to be the Chosen Undead. It was he that had rung the Bells of Awakening, and had slain his dear Lord Gwyne. He had considered this Undead an ally, perhaps even a friend. And for his kinship and aid, he had been paid back with the death of his beloved god, and Gwynevere, the Fair Lady who may be his sister, and if not, the cherised daughter of his Lord of Sunlight.

"Stay your blade, pilgriam of the Asylum, and I shall make this quick!" Solaire pleaded, slashing at the right pauldron of the Undead, his blade biting through the tempered steel, and into the reinforced blue leather claok beneath. The Undead growled, and through sheer will, grasped the holy blade with an armored hand, and forcibly yanked it out, temporarily stunning the Knight of Sunlight. "I do not wish-Urk!" Solaire gasped in surprise, and looked down. "T-to strike you down in pain." He muttered. The Dragonslayer Spear, of which the Undead had liberated from when he had slain the fierce captain of Gywn's Four Knights, Dragonslayer Ornstein, had pierced his chest, the tip, arcing with mystic lightning, jutting from his back. "Farewell, may we meet again." He smiled sadly, as the legendary spear was retrieved from his chest. As his body fell, he felt it disintegrating into the ether, to be reborn anew at a sacred bonfire.

An unknown time later....

Solaire groaned, opening his eyes. His armor clanked and grinded together as he stood up. A pile of timber, with a blaze burning in the center, was his only light. He looked around him. He was in some sort of cavernous structure, with crystals jutting from the walls. Some were small, like ones you would find on a ring or amulet, while others were as tall as he was, if not taller. They resonated with a sorcery unknown to the Knight. He rubbed his helmet covered chin, "Hmm, reminds me of Seath and his accursed laboratory." He thought aloud, his voice echoing across the caves. He began looking for a way out, rarely one to be out of the sun's loving glow for too long. These crystalinne lights were an inferior substitute. He glanced down, and noticed indentions in the ground. "Hooves?" He cocked his head, kneeling to get a better look. "Or no?" He muttered. They had the shape of hooves, but they were much smaller than the gallant horses he had seen and ridden in his days. "Perhaps some foul beast to hunt?" He said eagerly, straightening up. He felt for his sword, smiling as he found it in its rightful place, sheathed in his trusty scabbard. "Good, good." He followed the tracks, his boots clanking against the cold, uneven stone floor. Solaire's eyes widened when he saw a glorious light at the end of the tunnel. "My magnificent, incandescent beauty, canst it be you?" He asked, awestruck. He strode forward, exiting the cave.

He found himself overlooking a magnificent city. Towering spires rose from places, towers that scraped the heavens. A fine castle, with banners billowing in the wind was at the end. The city appeared to be held fast to the mountainside by a series of large, metal supports, anchoring into the ancient stone. Alongside the supports, there were several rivets tha glowed in a multitude of colors. "A mixture of the metal of a forge and sorcery?" Solaire asked, but that wasn't the only thing that caught his attention. Focusing his gaze, he noticed, milling about the town, were not the humans he counted himself apart of. No, what he saw were equines, smaller than most, in a multitude of colors. Some wore clothing, while others forgoed it entirely. "How odd? Perhaps I am in some unknown part of the Painted World? Or has Lady Gwynevere placed my soul in a world yet untouched by the Dark of the forboding Abyss?" Solaire wondered. That was when he felt a presence he had felt frequently in his early life. A soothing warmth, like that of the radiant sun that hung above. Turning his head, he noticed it came from one of the palace towers.

"Lady Gwynevere, have you come to this new realm?" Solaire wondered aloud, as he began to make his descent from the rocky outcropping he found himself upon, and down to the cobblestone and grass ground beneath.

Solaire groaned, as his boots scraped against the slope as he neared the gorund. He calculated the distance, then pushed off. Tucking his head into his arms, he deftly rolled into a crouch. "That was harder than I hath expected the task to be." He stretched, and dusted his mail off. Cracking his neck, he carefully strode into the town. The ponies, for they resembled such to the Knight, stared, a few cocking their heads, though none seemed to be too surprised at an armored bipedal being. "Methinks they hath seen others of my form before." Solaire said to himself, his breath exiting through tiny slits in the mouth area of his shining helmet. A few of the ponies, one with wings, and two without, stepped aside as he made their way toward them. He turned to one of the wingless ones, "Fair equine, doth thou knowest where I am?" He asked politely.

The Pegasus, a noblemare by the name of Jet Stream, smiled. Too few did she encounter such polite individuals, no matter their species. She cleared her throat. Her waxed grey coat glistened in the early morning light. "Yes, good sir," A small smile graced her face, "You are in the nation of Equestria, ruled by Princess Luna, Princess of the Moon, and Princess Celestia, Princess of the Sun-" She was cut off by the human staring intently at her through his gleaming helmet.

"Did thou say Princess of the Sun?" Solaire asked, his breath catching in his throat. He bent to one knee, so he was moreso on eye level with her. If he had still been standing, she would have come up to his hip, well, alright, a tiny bit higher. The mare nodded, quirking an eyebrow. He continued. "Where mayest I find this solar maiden?" The mare turned her head, and pointed to the palace. "Thank thee." He hugged her, then stood up. Nodding in thanks, he turned and set off. Jet swooned at his touch and gentle voice, while her coltfriend glared at the retreating human, muttering death threats under his breath.

Fair Child of Light Gwynevere, mayhaps you too exist in this realm of tiny equines? Solaire thought, as he neared the gates of Canterlot castle, joy radiating in his noble Astoran heart.