Displaced Soul

I could hear the constant groans of pain and woe from the outside. I don't know how long it's been since I was put here, but if the chatter of the guards is reliable, then I've been here for five thousand years or more. I shivered as an icy draft washed over my rotted flesh. Whatever magic kept me looking like a corpse was likely connected to the same Bonfire that was keeping me alive. Coldwrought chains bound me and I was suspended in the air, my feet not even close to touching the cracked stone floor of my prison.

    The flames of the Bonfire before me moved in unnatural ways, and did not crackle. Nay, they instead hummed quietly, a mere hint at the power of which they held. The flames gyred about a large, simple sword that was unceremoniously stabbed into the ground centuries ago. The heat had twisted the monument and scorched the hilt, but the blade had weathered it for centuries, and will most likely continue to do so for many more to come. Despite being numb, I could still feel the warmth and comfort radiating from the flames of the Bonfire. Even so, I still felt empty inside. The friends that I had hoped would come for me are no doubt long dead.

Well, aside from two of them, but I doubt they even remember me now.

    It's been so long since I've seen the faces of any save those of my tormentors. A feral growl rumbled from my decrepit throat, unused for anything other than screams of pain inflicted by my captors. Those damned Minotaurs. I always knew that I would be sought after for my unique properties as an immortal, my agelessness and Undeath in particular. But I never thought I would be so easily tricked. I still don't know exactly what they used on me, only that it was a sedative. There would be hell to pay when I got out.

    The smooth, featureless stone walls were nearly spotless. Then, there were the floors, caked with centuries worth of dried blood. My blood, to be exact. They never bothered cleaning it up, probably because they liked to see the remnants of their work.

I was torn from my interior ramblings as exclamations of surprise and the sounds of fighting drifted in from the outside. Two meaty thuds, then silence. The door to my chamber began to open slowly, as if the intruder were attempting to not wake me with the creak of the rusted iron. I stared in confusion as the intruder was revealed to be a Thestral mare, judging by the slim build and softer eyes. My heart soared as I noticed her ornate, platinum blue barding, marking the mare as of dear Luna's Night Guard. Standing next to her was a pegasus stallion, who bore the shining gold of Celestia's Day Guard.

Neither wore helmets, allowing me to see their manes. The mare’s catalina mane was unkempt, and there was a fiery spark of boredom in her amber eyes. Her compatriot was the standard alabaster of High-Caste guardsponies, and his mane was a carefully groomed blonde that was a fair bit longer than regulations, I’m sure. Their armors were well decorated, and if I remembered correctly, the pips at their collars indicated that they were both leftenants, though I could be wrong. After all, the Royal Guard had only just been established a short while before I was captured.

    "Oh gross! I know they said he might look bad, but this? This is just terrible. He's literally a corpse!" said the mare.

    "Midnight! Show some respect!" chided the stallion.

    “Midnight” looked between myself and her partner, mouth curled in horror. "Just look at him! His skin is rotting and he has no fur whatsoever! It's disgusting!"

    "That's no reason to be disrespectful! Now apologize!" said the stallion with a stomp of his hoof.

    Her ears turned down in shame. "Fine, alright! Geez..." The mare turned back to me, taking a step forward, "Sorry for being disrespectful. I was just...surprised, by your appearance.”

    I chuckled, though it may have sounded not unlike the rasp of a rusted knife ‘cross a whetstone. The stallion approached me and slid a pebble of Bloodstone into the shackles’ hinges. With a whisper of will, he caused the mineral to combust with an acrid stench, the red smoke cascading from the sources around the room. With a mighty crack, the first chain gave, my left arm falling limp at my side, the thorns inside the manacles tearing at my wrists as the next chain dragged me across the room before it, too, gave with a shock, causing me to fall to the floor with a thud. I groaned as feeling returned to my limbs, the near-black blood of the Undead oozing from beneath the irons. Slowly, I picked myself up off the ground and began stretching and popping my joints. The ponies winced every time I popped a joint, but eventually I was done. I turned to my two saviours.

    "Hhhhh...Haayhh...Hhhhaaayyhh....eyyyyeee...Hhhhhaaaaaghhhhh...." I coughed and clasped a hand to my face. My throat had tightened with ageing, the voice box shriveled and withered from raw pain. I held up a bony finger and walked over to the Bonfire, focusing on the flames before reaching into them and pulling out my Item Box. The ponies watched raptly, their attention consumed by the flames, likely wondering how the Box had been unscathed by the fire. It was a small, simple wooden box with neither decoration nor carving, though it was carved out of mahogany and coated with a simple, yet effective, finish. I thanked the stars that my captors knew only how to make Bonfires, and not operate them. I flipped up the lid and proffered my hand, scrounging around for the object I needed.

“Ahah!” I rasped out, my prize grasped firmly in my palm. It was an ancient black Sprite, so old as to have become imbued with an Ember. That Ember had grown, rootlike about the Humanity, wrapping it in brittle, earthen fibres. I examined the Effigy closely, searching for any imperfections, only to find none. The epicentre from whence the Ember grew swirled in a manner similar to that of the Dark Sign. Orange crackles sputtered forth from the black spot, the arcs of fire racing along the Ember’s twining fibre before they dissipated.

I raised the Effigy almost religiously before crushing it in an iron grip. The Ember broke around the Humanity, a crimson glow rising briefly from my hand before it, too, crumbled the Humanity into naught but dust. With a sound of shattering glass, the now destroyed Effigy released all of its power, the Dark Soulfire coursing into my chest, the Dark Sign located just over my heart. Fire raced through my veins as flesh reknit and bones thickened and grew back into my once impressive stature.

    I put the box down and stood up to my full height and stretched again, admiring my now restored body. Then I shivered as I felt a metal clad hoof stroke my abdomen. I looked down to see the mare, Midnight, staring directly at my stomach area, running a cold metal clad hoof over it. I cleared my throat to gain her attention. She immediately backed up and smiled nervously, allowing me to see her fangs.

“What art thou doing?” I raised an accusatory eyebrow.

She jerked her hoof off, her cheeks glowing bright red beneath her fur. She mumbled out an apology as she hurried away, her comrade smirking at her. “Shut up,” she muttered, glaring at the ground between her hooves. I rolled my eyes before running a hand through my long hair, feeling the extensive silky strands part as my fingers passed them by. I picked the Box back up and once again scrounged around for the items I desired.

Out first came a simple set of cloth pants, padded with leather where armour would then be placed. On those very spots, I withdrew some simple greaves, slipping my feet into the sabatons before securing the armor I had obtained from the Knight of the Looking Glass. A rather opulent, yet still simple, woolen blouse was next to be donned, the fabric stretching as I pulled it over my head. A long white surcoat went over the blouse, the trail reaching down to mid calf. Then it was a quick matter in donning the cuirass and its plackart piece.

I pulled on two goussets for each arm, attaching their straps to the softpoints of my blouse. A pair of rerebracers were next, the righthand one having a golden brassard, and each were strapped to my arms at the same softpoint as the goussets. Two couters, one per arm, were slipped on next, a pair of hooks on the inside of both for holding themselves to the chainmail without any need for straps, the vambracers from the Knightships of Heide only serving to pin the couters in place. The gauntlets themselves were rather innovative, being attached to the vambrace via ballpoints, removing the risk of a sword chopping off the hand entirely, as opposed to merely numbing the appendage. Of course, that did make it rather difficult to clean, as they were quite secure in their holdings.

A sword belt was the next piece of my ensemble to go on, the tassets and faulds of the belt giving some additional protection to my hips. Lastly, but not at all least, was the hood of the Dragon Sage, the bone-white ghillie cascading as the way of hair as it covered both the chain coif and pixane. I stood up again, testing the armour while loosening tight areas, and tightening loose ones. From the Box I drew my short blade, the crossguard extending a few centimetres onto the blade, with a stylized sun motif on the pommel. It slid perfectly into its scabbard with a click.

The massive, blue, luminescent greatsword that I had confiscated from the Writhing Ruin was something the ponies had gaped at when I pulled it from the Box, having to pull the blade out diagonally due to the large crossguard. The blade was long as I was tall, and rather unwieldy, but I managed. It was as powerful as it was impressive in size, and the hilt protruded over my right shoulder, one hand of the blade sticking out as well. The war axe of the Gyrm Warriors was equally massive, and its haft reached out past my left shoulder as the head rested in the middle of my back.

A crossbow I had retrieved from the Sanctum of Drangleic was specially modified, after a few years of tinkering, to be collapsible, the shortened length fitting snuggly on my right hip. My kite shield, a charred grey colouration staining the ornate carvings of its face with a vertical bar reinforcing its length, went on my back, and the Idol's Chime was placed right behind my sword. I then grabbed seven rings in addition to my Wedding Band; one in the shape of a flower and studded in green gemstones, a golden ring with a large amethyst as the crown, a blue metal ring with a stylized white dragon as its face, another gold ring with four gems of different colors, a steel band with a tower shield decorum, a ring with eight “blades” circling it, and a black band shaped much like the one with the dragon, but with a knightly helm painted on it in its stead.

Finished, I placed the Box back into the Bonfire and turned back to my two companions, whose mouths were agape. "Yes? Is there something thou wish to say?" I asked. Needless to say, they obliged in the way natural to ponykind.

    "How can you carry such large weapons? How did that box come out of the fire without burning? Why are you wearing so many rings? And how can you see out of that mask?" Midnight asked.

    "I am rather curious as well,” the stallion, whose name I had yet to learn, agreed.

    "Mine strength is greater than most alive, my body’s capacity being upwards of a metric tonne, or two, in a benching press. The fire is not like most fires, as it is a Soul Flame. I wear eight rings, as I hath eight digits ‘pon which they fit, and this masque of mine is of an enchanted sort, allowing me to see onwards as if it were a window of clearest glass," I answered with the practice of centuries behind my words.

    "Yeah right! Nopony can bench that many pounds except for the Princesses!" Blossom declared.

    "I couldst give thee a demonstration later, if thou so wish." I offered.

    "Sure, if only so I can see you fail miserably!" said Blossom.

    My shoulders quivered with a quiet chuckle, "Thou shalt see soon enough."

    The stallion turned to look at me from his place at the door. "Sir, we should probably hurry and get out of here before the guards discover us."

    "Verily,” I nodded, ghillie strands swaying lightly. “But first, wouldst thou spare but a moment?" I strolled over to the doors, peeking out before slinking through, my armor ghostly silent. Kneeling beside the two unconscious children of Minos, I firmly grasped the horns of the inert bull.

    "Um, Sir? What are you doing?"

    "Just,” I breathed, my Undead heart racing, “fulfilling a promise to mineself." I tugged lightly at one horn, a miniscule crack appearing at the base, virtually invisible. Then, with almost no effort, the curving spike snapped off like a dead branch from a tree. The Minotaur woke from the sound, still groggy as he tried to orient himself. I flipped the broken prong in the air, catching it with the jagged end emerging underhanded.

With all of my might, I pushed down and forward. The shocked screams elicited were wholly worth it. Of course, one would be expected to scream when something entered where the Sun refused to shine, for it was quite the foul place.

    Blossom tried and failed to contain herself, a guffaw erupting from her snout. "I c-can't...believe...you, you actually...bucking...did that!” Soon, she found herself at Humor’s Knell, her air stolen by Laughter.

    "Sir, don't you think that was a bit uncalled for?" asked the stallion, seemingly unsettled.

    "Leftenant, I have been waiting centuries to do that. I waiver thou not deprive me of mine fun or there wilt be consequences. Am I clear?" I said as I crouched to be eye level with him.

He held my gaze for a while before finally giving up with a sigh. "Crystal, sir."

    "Good,” I patted his cheek. “Now, I cannot for the life of me remember the layout of this building, so if thou wouldst be so kind as to lead the way out?"

    "Yes, sir"

    Thus, we crept out of that accursed room, allowing me to get a glimpse of the unfortunate souls that had been left to rot here, most of which were unicorns. In fact, it looked like some already had rotted. And knowing the children of Minos, they would not likely get rid of the bodies until they had been paraded around first; there were even a number of skeletons. I had never really understood Minos and his fascination with death. “Glory” and “Honor” I could understand, but this? This was barbaric.

As we snuck down the hallway, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor sods I had seen in the cells. They looked battered and bruised, and their holdings had a fair amount of blood on most surfaces, nearly moreso than my own. When we walked by, few even bothered to look up. Those that did held no hope in their eyes, barely a thread of sanity. Only despair. I'm fairly certain most of them were wrongfully placed here for a simple mistake, or mayhaps no other reason, save the Minotaurs’ own brutality. How despicable.

Finally, we reached the hallway's end where the path split in two. The left path continued in a straight line, whereas the right path veered off to the north, a smattering of cell doors lining the walls of the former, torchlight glinting off of their rusted features.

    “From whence had thou cometh, leftenant? Surely, thou must remember thine own exeunt plan, hm?” I turned my hooded gaze towards the pair behind me.

    "We take a left here, then a right and then continue straight ahead," answered the stallion. I nodded and we continued. We passed even more cells, and I could scarcely believe the number of unfortunate souls we passed before we arrived at another fork. Taking a right, we continued walking for some time, cell doors passing by.

    "What is thy name, leftenant? I wouldst like to know the name of he who freed me," I queried, curious.

    "Cloud Skipper, Sir," answered the stallion.

    "A most fitting name. Thou art lucky to have it. Cherish that name, leftenant, for one day, it may be all thou hast."

    "I'm not sure I understand, Sir."

    "As you would do well not to. Else I fear the world shalt not survive."

    "Sir?"

    "Ignore mine rambling. Let us forget and continue." Skipper seemed confused.

    "As you wish, Sir." he said finally. We continued on our way in relative silence after that. Then, we finally reached the end of the hallway. Standing before us were simple double doors made of what appeared to be steel. Thankfully there was no lock, which only further showed the ineptitude of the children of Minos. I pushed the doors open with ease, and we walked out into a dark, eerily quiet room. I could not make out any details thanks to the the dim lighting.

    Then, all at once, I heard torches blaze to life, as if by magic. I shut my eyes momentarily from the brightness, before I heard the sound of weapons being drawn from their scabbards. Immediately, I opened my eyes again, and growled at the sight of dozens of Minotaurs in full-plate armor with axes, maces, and great swords held within their grasp.

    "Well...shit," Blossom said eloquently. Shit indeed.