“I don’t care if you completely ignore anything else I have ever said about anything. Never submit before a dragon. Even death is better.”
The forest weeped above Shimmer as he plunged through the mud below. His bone-forged carapace armour rebuffed most of the skies endless tears, but some of the moisture seeped through the parts where the grey matter slid over one another, bringing the full fury of winter’s coldness with it.
Shimmer gritted his teeth as the mud tried its best to hold him back as if protecting something just beyond. He hoped it was true, that there was a light at the end of this dark, frozen hell. It was the only thing that stopped all those traitorous doubts from circulating his mind.
He would not give up. He would not wait for a break in the weather. He would be the first to find the lost treasure of the Bottomless Bog.
He bit into the torch as a particularly cold drop made its way over his shoulder and down his belly, and concentrated on the brief respite as the struggling flame flickered his way. He continued trudging through the mud, feeling it clench against his skin, and stealing away any lingering heat and leaving a terrifying numbness.
Despite the cold, he chuckled to himself. The Daring Do books never mentioned the sheer drudgery of travelling. At least the trees were all evergreen; he did not dare to think what it would be like otherwise.
“All in a day’s work,” he said to nothing in particular. Yes, that was right. He had faced worse. There was no way a little cold was going to kill him.
Strength returned to his stride, and the mud lost its grip on him.
After a few moment’s rest to consult his map, Shimmer found what he was looking for. A clearing the size of at least half of the Appleoosian desert spanned in front of him, revealing the grand building, nay, temple that jutted up from the centre as if it had risen from the earth itself. The forest had tried reclaiming this land, but the trees did not take root, and the flowers were sparse and sickly.
This was a Dragon Nest, and, by the looks of the Temple, a Powerful one at that. Shimmer took one step into the unusually flat ring and almost stumbled when something firm clanked against his hoof.
Solid ground. Holy Celestia, it could not possibly be true!
Shimmer laughed as his mud crusted hoof tapped the surface. Oh, how much he had missed walking unhindered. Even the rain and the cold could not stop the tears beading in his eyes as he scrambled onto the inviting surface. And it was warm! The old stallion at the Inn was right. This place was unspoiled and in great condition.
Shimmer could not hold back the laugh any longer, and he fell onto his back, daring the rain to ruin his spirit. This place was untouched. Even the enchantments still worked. He could almost taste the welcoming metallic zest of the fortune this place was going to make him.
But how was he going to make this all…his? He could not just put it all into his saddle bags as the weather, combined with the armour he wore underneath, had ruined the straps. He would have to make camp for a few days, find the best bits, and then fight for the rest. Maybe, if he was lucky, there was that one priceless item that would make him rich and famous. And maybe, that one item would be so precious that he would have his own series of books that trumped that of Daring Do. How could she go through all of that just to give it to a museum? What was the point?
But, as the cold penetrated through the illusion of warmth he created for himself and made his knees clack together, he realised that that was a problem for another time.
He reached around, placed his torch into a strap at his side so that the flame still lit his way, and brought out his machete. Although the forest had not claimed the rocky ground -or was it…glassy?-it had certainly claimed the temple itself. The blocky, flat creation reminded him of a castle without its towers but the walls, although ancient, survived with by the magics magics not crafted by Pony horns. There was a smoothness to it, like each, huge block was exactly where it wanted and needed to be that typified Dragonic structures. Ponies could break and shape stone, and then place one upon the other, but they always looked like bricks. This was more like it came up from the ground itself, preformed and ready for its ancient occupants.
Weeds and vines fell before his blade as he hacked into the main doorway, or passage way, since it would take him a good few seconds to gallop from one side to another. He breathed in the warm air laden heavy with dust that tickled his nostrils. It reminded him of vast plains and open skies, which surprised him as a cave could not be any more different from the vast savannah he once grew up in. But that was to be expected, this was a Dragon’s lair, and their magic is subtle, unless you believed the stories where they could conjure fire from their mouths.
He shed his saddle pack and his armour, and winced as the savage crack of bone on stone echoed around him and deeper into the gaping maw of blackness that lied before him. He shook himself dry and let the shivers pass into a warm, soothing state of calmness as if he had just wrapped himself in a large blanket. He set up camp, using the remnants of firewood that his saddle pack saved from the rain to dry out his roll mat and his saddle pack.
Free of his burden, Shimmer felt as light as a Pegasus, and the odd sense of weightlessness put a large smile on his face. He had found the lost Temple. He was an adventurer, a pioneer, a success after oh so many failures. And he needed to see his prize.
There were many Pony-sized doorways leading off from the vast and empty corridor. This did not surprise Shimmer in the slightest. It was known that Dragons kept slaves. In fact, the stories said that dragons saw their slaves as part of their hoard, and actually treated them relatively well, unlike the Pony warlords of old. The corridors all led to small antechambers, where broken ruins of bunks and hammocks lay. Shimmer routed through the splinters and the dirt, and found some old-style bits –coins marked with the head of a particularly fierce looking dragon— that would fetch a good price at a market. He carried the bits back to the campfire in batches, and realised that half an hours worked had earned him a sizeable pile.
He donned his now dry armour and turned to face the great void standing before him. He held the torch in his teeth, and with a barely contained trot, set off into the darkness. His pulse quickened as the fire illuminated the carvings in the wall. It depicted dragons…not one but hundreds, flying in the skies, burning villages (so they DID breathe fire!), and sending the pony peasantry into fleeing. There were also Dragons facing Gryphons, their angular forms carved into depictions of battle eternal, their faces all snarls of hate. But, most notably, every single Dragon seemed to be carrying something. Loot. These Dragons were taking everything, from cattle, to money, to ponies and Gryphons themselves. This wall felt less like a picture and more like a story. Oh, the historians would murder each other to get their hooves on this!
Shimmer made his way down the hall, listening to the echoes of his hooffalls cascade into one another. A gentle slant guided him downwards until a pressure pressed on his ears, creating a low pitched hum that unnerved him. How deep was this cave? The shadows danced around him as regular puffs of air tugged at the flame. He checked the antechambers, torch in its holster and machete in mouth, but found nothing. He shook his head. He was alone. This place had been abandoned for centuries, how could somepony be watching him?
“Eyes on the prize, Shimmer,” he muttered to himself. “There’s nothing here but ashes and treasure.” He returned to the main hallway, which had only gotten larger as he descended, and began swinging his blade in quick sweeping motions. His fur felt practically on end. It was like he had walked into the maw of some great monster, and its breath, warm and musty, was what was batting against him, warning him to retreat and never come back.
But Shimmer forced himself onwards. He had come too far to leave with nothing. He was going to bag a prize and return victorious. Then, maybe, he could get recognition from the Royals. Maybe then he would not have to live his life in rags, fighting somepony else’s pointless battles to earn enough to eat. He would prove to King Sombra himself that he deserved the Royal Favour.
His neck limbered up and his heart rate calmed as Shimmer went through the basic drills with his blade. As he walked, he lost himself in the familiar routines of the slashes, thrusts, hops, and rolls that made a good mercenary a force of nature. As the slope plateaued out, Shimmer felt ready for anything. And that would be useful, as his instincts screamed that was all wrong: The bursts of air came too regularly to be coincidence, and that rumble through the floor was no feat of nature. He brushed back his mane and tied it into a ponytail with a piece of cord. So, somepony had found this before him. But could they stop him from taking it?
Darkness overwhelmed Shimmer as the corridor opened up into almost complete nothingness. Only a few pillars, stretching into the great void of black above, reflected his torchlight. Claw marks preceded him, forming a path where none should be. Sounds echoed all around Shimmer. Was that the sound of water, or hoof on stone? Was that the hiss of air, or an unsheathed weapon? Shimmer attention jerked left. Did he just see a hoof dart behind that pillar?
He had no cover, and that made him feel vulnerable. It was as if the unknown shadows were watching his every move and laughing at fear. He made a decision, right then: throw caution to the wind. He burst into a frantic canter, looking this way and that, and almost blinded himself with the torches reflection off his machete.
But, when the shady claws of darkness had a grip on his sanity, a soft glow beckoned him forwards. He kept close to the pillars, barely noticing the elaborate carvings etched upon each one, and darted between them. The ground sparkled as the soft orange glow pushed back the darkness and revealed to Shimmer just how vast this cave was. A Pegasus would have to fly a good few seconds before he could reach the ceiling, and all around him, pillars surrounded a pit that could fit an entire lake. There were no cracks or fissures in the rock surrounding the pit; it would have taken a huge amount of care and attention to carve out a hole that large without damaging the structure around it. Shimmer leaned over the edge and gasped. He took a few steps back, fell onto his rump and scrambled further back.
A dragon. A fully fledged, real life, not a corpse, dragon slept in the centre of a mound of gold and gems and whatnot.
He controlled his breathing and unstrapped the torch. With those magical orbs lighting the pit, there was no need for it. But what could he do. His fortune was just one descent away, but upon it sat a creature that by rights, should be extinct. His heart thundered. There was no way he was going back empty-hooved. If he could not pay the fine…
He gritted his teeth and forced himself upon his hooves. He could steal from a Dragon. Besides, it was probably dead…maybe magic had preserved its body? He began his journey down slabs that jutted out the wall of the pit to form a rough staircase. He did not fail to notice the huge gouges cut out the ends as if something large and heavy had used them as a paw-hold.
But his eyes never left the creature coiled upon itself in the centre of the room. The thing’s head looked larger than Shimmer, and spotting those pointy fangs made him stumble over the next step. Leather wings covered most of its blood red form as if it were a blanket, but he could still see the blades it called claws sink into the treasure underneath.
Shimmer controlled his breathing. It was not a time to panic. He took a careful step, then another, until he was at the base of the pit…and completely unable to escape if that thing woke up. If only he were a Pegasus; wings would come in useful right now. Or even a unicorn’s horn. Magic would always help. But no, he was an Earth Pony, and his strength meant nothing.
Just don’t wake it up, he thought. He hugged the wall, and jumped as a lance of heat jolted up his back. It was hot! He ignored the sweat beading down his face in favour of keeping both eyes on the dragon. He manoeuvred until he was behind the creature, and stepped towards it. His eyes scanned the wealth glittering before him. Never before had he seen so many gems in one place. Sapphires, rubies, emeralds…they were all shining in prismatic colour amongst piles upon piles of bits. Even weapons, from pony-forged swords to great lumps of metal designed for dragons –he gulped—lay there.
He picked up the first gem he saw, a brilliant sapphire glowing with unspent magical energy, and quickly placed it into his saddlebag. He hurried through the piles, stepping softly on the mounds of gold as he gathered another shining gem in his mouth.
The tail twitched.
Shimmer froze in place, eyes wide and staring at the great bulk mere metres from him. “Please, please go back to sleep,” he whispered.
The dragon released a long drawn breath. Its form deflated as it emptied its great lungs. It took in a breath, a slow, noisy affair that left Shimmer shivering. Was it waking? He did not know, but his legs were frozen on the spot. Not even his years as a mercenary helped ease his fear.
A minute passed of complete nothingness. Shimmer released his own breath and commanded his shaky legs off the pile. He had tried his luck for long enough. Besides, what sat in his half-full bags was more than enough to earn him a place in the High District as a minor noble. He slunk over the last pile and crept back up towards the less cluttered walls.
And that was when he saw the brightest, endlessly swirling, awe-inspiring gem he had ever laid eyes upon. It was like a smouldering bit of coal that sparkled. It was…it was…it was exactly what he was looking for. For the second time, he crept towards and directly in front of the dragon. The gem was on a pedestal mere inches from the creature’s face. One of its arms surrounded it, as if it were trying to hug it in slumber.
Shimmer gulped. He knew he should just leave and never mention this place again…but that gem…it spoke to him. Somehow, he knew it wanted him to take it. Because, Shimmer thought, this is the moment that writes the songs. I will steal from under the dragon’s nose, and then I will have it all.
And he knew it. With that gem, he would be unstoppable. He would be all powerful. Even Sombra would bend a hoof towards him, because he was a hero in the making…a real, live Daring Do.
Shimmer crawled up to the pedestal, tearing his gaze away from his prize to scan the dragon’s face. It looked like it would have no problem devouring him completely. He shivered and reached out a hoof towards the pedestal. He snatched it and threw it into the saddlebag in one motion. Immediately, he knew something was wrong.
Instincts flared and he bounded up the staircase two steps at a time. His heart raced. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. And then he heard the sound of tinkling coins. The claw had moved! A low rumbling filled his ears and the top of the pits burst with crimson light. Magic surrounded Shimmer as he ran. He felt the heat rise behind him, spurring him on as his hind section felt like it was being slow roasted.
The rumbling intensified and Shimmer felt the savage reverberation followed by a great thump.
A voice, deep as thunder and as terrifying as Sombra’s ire, rolled through his skull. “I have awoken!”
“Crap!” he said. He made it up the top of the stairs and bolted for what he thought was the exit. The darkness was gone, replaced by the same eerie white orbs on top of what he thought were pillars.
“Where are the thralls? I demand a thorough clean.”
“Double crap!” Shimmer spotted the large corridor leading up, and raced for it.
He heard crashing behind him. And then the dragon roared, its screech pressing his skull. His ears felt like they shattered and pain overwhelmed all senses. Shimmer fell and slid to a stop as he grabbed his ears with his hooves and screamed.
Mighty wing beats pummelled him with air as he crawled towards the dim light of the cavernous door.
Not daring to look back, Shimmer pushed himself onto his weary legs and through sheer force of will, pushed himself back into a gallop. The walls closed in as he entered the corridor.
“I see you, thief.”
Shimmer whinnied and darted right and through one of the pony sized doors. He barged past a skeleton and then another, and took cover.
“Did you think you could hide from me?” The voice said from outside. “Did you think me that stupid that I would not notice you?”
Shimmer felt pinpricks run up his spine, a sure sign of powerful magic.
“You should give up, submit to me, and I may let you live.” The voice was smooth, feminine and highly smug. What happened to change its voice so?
“You should…” the voice faltered. “Wh-what happened here? My thralls…” The creature roared, “What did you do?”
Shimmer lifted his head above the old, ruined bed that had become his shelter. The creature stood, gaze frozen on a line of pony skeletons lining the wall. She –and he knew it was a she from the slimness of her muzzle and her slender form—glided over to the long fallen ponies, her ruby red tail swishing and violently destroying the unfortunate furniture in a cloud of splinters. She stood only twice the height of Shimmer, but although she had four legs, she chose to walk on two.
Her slitted eyes, burning like coals, must have spotted the rusted blades too far gone to be of any use among the dust and bones. “You fools…” she muttered.
Shimmer took his moment hopped onto the bed and launched himself at the miniature dragon thing. Her gaze locked onto him, pure fury radiating from them like light. Her wings flared and she flew backwards as she slashed wildly at Shimmer. But he was too close.
Shimmer collided with the Dragoness and they both fell into a tumble. Her razor sharp claws scratched along his armour, and ripped one side of his saddlebags. Coins spilled out of the bag and clattered all over the place. Shimmer controlled their roll and, with a vicious buck, leapt off the dragon. He heard the dragon wheeze out choked breath before he rounded the corner.
He ran for dear life, sheer terror fuelling his muscles to push harder than ever before. He heard the cries of the beast behind him, as savage as it ever was. His ears locked against his head, he thanked whatever God was watching over him. He saw the distant reflections of real light bouncing off the surfaces. Perhaps he would make it after all.
“Thief!” came the harrowing cry of the beast below, now back to its original deep andf truly haunting form. “You stole it. You stole it! I will get you. I will break you. I will consume you while you still breathe. Thief!”
Shimmer did not bother to gather his things as he passed the warmth of his campfire. He felt the surge of air push him onwards. The thing was airborne again.
He sprinted through the door, one half of his saddlebag banging heavily at his side. His lungs burnt and his legs cried protest, but the screaming behind him and the rapidly approaching forest spurred him onwards.
“I will make you submit! If it is the last thing I do!”
He jumped through into the welcomeing safety of the squelchy mud and thick tree cover. Immediately the insects began to feed, drawn to the sweat marring his fur. Panting heavily, Shimmer turned to see the arrowlike form of the dragon burst through doorway. It spread its wings, covering the temple with its shadowy form. It circled the perimeter, its gaze almost locking onto him as it passed.
And then it spat fire.
Forest went up like it were kindling. Even from his cover, Shimmer felt the heat bathing his face. Realising that he was not safe here. Shimmer turned tail and made for the bog. He laughed maniacally as he trotted into the hoof deep mud.
He had survived an attack from an ancient, long dead beast, and he lived! And, not only that, he had a bag full of gems and gold. It had been totally worth it.
The bells clanged from untold placed around Safe Haven, summoning the Ponies like thunder to lightning. The sun shone bright as the last of the heavy clouds were bucked away by scores of pegasi. It actually felt pleasant, it was just a shame that the manacles around his hooves left painful rashes. Shimmer inhaled the waft of fresh air and faced the curious crowd with an easy smile on his face.
Shimmer had not expected the public punishment to be right after his court appearance. As soon as he passed through the large iron doors, two soldiers leapt upon him, pinning him to the floor as the slimmer, taller General place the binds around his kickers.
For once, he found a pony who seemed not to take delight in what she was doing to him, although with that black, plumed helmet on her head, the shadows made it difficult to see her expression. But, by the way she handled him in an efficient and impersonal manner, he surmised that she probably felt very little whatsoever.
And the mystery continued as she pulled him along the main road through the southern district with a rope tied around his mouth. Her amber magic prodding him in the sides when he did not trot with enough enthusiasm.
They passed through the Inner Ring wall into the Southern district proper in between two columns of armed soldiers. The number of faces doubled as the murmurs grew into a slowly rolling wave of confused excitement.
A shout came from somewhere behind him, and every soldier unsheathed their blades. “Stand back!” said one Guard.
“Make way for the King,” said another.
The two columns veered left, into another equally wide street that headed towards the town square. Well, that would be the best place.
“Stand back!” a guard reared as he bumped into blue Earth Pony. “I said stand back!” The blue pony visibly shook as his hooves scraped against the cobblestones, but the throng gathered behind him just pushed him forwards.
“Please,” he stammered. “I’m stuck.”
The guard swung his neck and struck the pony with the pommel, sending the limp body tumbling to the floor. The guard then stepped over him as if he were just some rock in the road, followed by the soldier behind…and the soldier behind that.
Shimmer tugged on his restraint just so he could look and see if he were breathing, but the rope tugged hard and made him stumble forwards. Shimmer found it hard to give that pony any sympathy. It was just a single blow after all.
The soldiers-in-black circled the centre of the square and began hauling every single trading cart into the corners while presenting the infuriated owners with the wicked steel. Damn those soldiers knew how to command fear! It made Shimmer want to prove to Sombra all the more that he was one of them. With that armour, he could command any-pony to do his bidding.
The Slim General led him right in the centre. “Wait here,” she said and for the first time, he was able to get a good look at her. She stood a complete head and shoulder above him with a horn that extended out like lance. but her tall frame was let down by her slimness. She looked like the armour was the only thing stopping a breeze from sweeping her away. A long purple mane spilled out of her bucket-like helm and fell down one side, a sign of a complete novice in warfare. The last thing she’d want in battle was for it to get in her eyes or, even worse, get snagged on something.
But his traitorous eyes could not help but follow her curves, hidden behind a layer of plate as they were. Her body was purest perfection, as if the God themselves carved her form from marble. Her chest, rose and fell underneath the harness. Her tail poked out of two plates to rise high into the air before dropping into a graceful slide towards the ground. And he could just make out what looked to be a chess piece painted to her ample rear…
The rope almost ripped his jaw off as he tumbled into a heap on the cobblestones. She watched him as he got back onto his hooves and shook himself down. She showed no rage, just a deep, unsettling curiosity, like a foal watching a beetle scuttling around the street. Was she going to squish him at the end to?
King Sombra stepped in front of Shimmer, and the quiet murmerings around the edges of the square fell into complete silence.
“Citizens of Safe Haven,” he said with a booming voice. “I have summoned you all to gather and watch my work be done!”
He stepped forwards, and his horn erupted in a deathly black aura. The ground rippled as the earth itself rose underneath the King’s hooves.
“Equestria is a cold, dark place full of countless nightmares and terrors,” he said from his newly formed dais. “Monsters roam the forests, slaying the unwary. Bandits patrol our lands, raiding villages and destroying livelihoods. The Royal Sisters threaten us from behind their walls, mocking our plight without raising a hoof to aid us.
The feeling of apprehension grew as a wave of concern washed around the town square. Sombra continued without pause. “Lesser Kingdoms would have fallen by now, crushed under the weight of oppression. But not us. We stand alone in a land wanting to end us, and we have taken control. We are the masters of this Kingdom, and we are the masters of this world. Because what binds us together, is what makes us strong. And that is Law and Order. It is what makes us become the sum that is far greater than the parts.”
He pointed at Shimmer, a snarl on his face. “That pony has spat upon the face of the Law. He is what threatens the stability of our great nation, and in turn threatens each and every single one of our very livelihoods. He is what is wrong with the world.” Sombra paused letting his echo fade away.
“Justice!” came a cry from the back. Suddenly, the crowd roared into life like some savage beast. The circle of soldiers crumpled then expanded as they beat back the press of bodies.
The shouts came thick and fast and from all directions.
“Kill him!”
“Dirty Rat!”
“Criminal!”
Shimmer could do nothing but listen to howl of a thousand ponies baying for his blood. His ears drooped as he tried to look away but the General kept his head high and staring into pure hatred.
Sombra looked pleased.
Shimmer snorted and stomped his hoof, all the while fighting the General for control of the rope. She may have been a slim pony, but her magic was strong. He whinnied and reared, but the press of magic pulled him back down to the ground.
Sombra raised a hoof, and the frothing rage behind the million eyes of the crowd calmed into a heated simmer. “But I did not catch this pony. Nay, he came to me, at my home, by his own volition. This pony confessed to me his crimes and begged for forgiveness. He told me that he was a Rat scraping by and forced to commit his sins against this great land.”
Shimmer dared to look up at the King. That was not true. He would never grovel before another, not even for a mountain of bits. What was he playing at?
“This pony has now dedicated his life to me and his realm, and he will see to it that we will all greatly profit, or die trying.”
Sombra turned and gave a slight grin. Shimmer stared back as impassive as he could be without the ability to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“But for every crime, there must be a punishment. And for every crack of the whip, the burden will lift from his soul.”
The ground rumbled and cracked, forming a ring around Shimmer’s hooves. The General let go of the rope, to be replaced by the spine-smashing aura of black. A loud crunch sent shockwave up Shimmer’s legs as his rocky platform freed itself from Mother Earth and lifted him to be equal to his master. Sombra waited, a lash with many head hovering by his side.
“You will receive one lash for every crime you have ever committed, Shimmer Steppe,” he snarled, “Take a long breath, for I fear it may be your last.”
--
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Shimmer howled as the lash sliced open his back like a Gryphon’s talons. He struggled against the immaterial shackles that held his forehooves, and himself, high up in the air. He gasped down a breath as he looked towards the endless blue above him.
“Ten,” said a voice down below.
Ten? Shimmer screamed. How could it be only ten? His back felt like it had been touched by the venom of a million snakes, its bile seeping into his muscles underneath, bringing with it its unholy fire. Warmth seeped into his tail and down his legs to drip on the courtyard far below. Shimmer bit down on the cloth and clecnched his eyes shut.
A fierce crack smashed against him and sent him rocking in his restraints. Agony flared and he gasped.
“Eleven,” said the voice from below.
--
“Fifty-two,” said the voice. Shimmer’s head swam in the fog of agony. He could not feel anything other than pain. He could taste iron, but he lacked the strength to spit it out. The only thing he watched was the blueness of the sky as it swarmed around him, beckoning him closer. The wind rocked him and for a moment, his head would sink and he’d see the faces of the ponies that had come to watch him die. Or, at least, he thought that’s what they were. It looked pretty, the mismatch of colours underneath him, like a jigsaw from hundreds of different sets crammed into one picture. The gentle rocking soothed his tired mind. It was peaceful, the only noise being his own heartbeat and the whoosh of the whip.
Something crashed into him and shook him like the rag doll he was. His head fell back, and he found himself looking into the sky once more.
--
“Eighty.”
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--
Fire burnt within him and purged every emotion but one: hate. His body rippled with the lustful energy, looking for something to burn. Oh, he was power, he was God! The endless rolling forests dissipated underneath him, and, almost instantly, he realised he was hovering over the Slums of Eastern District.
He could see the gangs and mobsters, the weak and the pathetic, all fleeing from his dark shadow. But they could not escape his wrath. He was the flame, and he would purge this world of everything that would stand against him.
And as he flew over, spilling fire on the unworthy, he got to watch their expressions turn to abject fear before they withered and died. The pathetic weaklings tried to fight back. But their attempts only brought them his mercy.
He crashed onto the largest shack, caving it in, and shifted his wings. He could feel the rubble in his claws as he dug a nice groove into the surface until it supported him nicely. He looked over his new Kingdom of smoke and ash, and at the charred corpses smouldering around him. And the booming laughter that came out of his maw oozed utter contempt for those creatures still surrounding him.
One by one, the ponies came, worn, haggard and covered in soot. They came before him and prostrated themselves before him. He spat fire at them once more, and their final screams were the last, until they stood back up, whole, unburnt and with love in their eyes. For they made the perfect slaves.
And the last to arrive was King Sombra himself, limping and bleeding. They made eye contact and the defeated King bowed before him, and submitted.
He laughed again, shooting fire into the air. The Kingdom was his, as was always meant to be. And he would take everything that he desired.
He looked into a pool of water offered to him by a slave, but the reflection was not a Dragon, but a Pony. It was Shimmer, and his twisted grin matched the fire lurking behind his eyes.
--
Shimmer groaned. He felt like he had gotten into a brawl with the entirety of the Eastern District. His hooves failed to cooperate as he rolled onto his side. Something soft cushioned his head, and he snuggled into it, releasing a scent of alcohol twinned with other scents that brought back pictures of the desert lands.
He felt buoyant like he was on a cloud, and the gentle caress of whatever he lay upon wore against his eyelids. Oh, what he would give to sleep for another hour. But his muscles screamed in process every time he merely twitched and the thumping headache wore on his patience more than anything else. He cracked open an eye.
Shining light dazzled him and enraged the stomping beast in his skull. He put a hoof over his eyes and groaned once more. Why did everything have to hurt so?
He lay in the bed, but whose bed he did not know, and contemplated how he got there. He remembered approaching Sombra, demanding rewards. He remembered being marched out into town.
He sat bolt upright and gasped as his spine felt like it was going to snap through his skin. He was flogged!
He rolled to his side, pulling the duvet with him. He shivered as a dark red stain on the mattress greeted him. He shuffled off the bed, his legs barely able to take his weight. He leant against the cold stone wall and shuffled towards the mirror.
Damn, he looked rough. Sweat matted his knot-filled mane, pulling it over the dark circles around his eyes. His armour was no-where to be found, and it took him a moment to remember they took it from him, leaving a naked body littered with angry red marks that stretched over his back and sides. One slash had even gone through his Cutie Mark, splitting his shield in two. Dried blood darkened the fur over his hind legs and clotted his tail to the point where it felt like a stump.
He groaned.
“You should not be out of bed!”
Shimmer jumped and yowled at the angry retort from his back. A grey coated Earth Pony rushed up to him and let him support himself on her. She had her golden mane tied into a bun giving her face plenty of space for the largest glasses he had ever seen.
“Now what are you doing out of bed?” she asked as if he were some stupid colt.
“Wondering where the hell I am,” he replied. He gritted his teeth as the hoof-steps took its toll on him.
“You’re at the infirmary inside the castle, Dear,” she said. “Now, lets get you comfy…” she spied the bloodstain on the mattress. “Oh dear, looks like one of your stitches wore off. Let me get the doctor to attend to you while I clean this.”
The nurse gently hauled him over to a seat where he wobbled awkwardly. Tiredness set in and he felt his head droop, but the sudden sensation of falling jolted him alert before sleep could take him. He watched the nurse strip the bed of its bloodied sheet with an efficient grace, all the while humming some happy tune. He cursed her casual, stuck-on smile under his breath; why should some pony even act happy around him? If he was miserable, they should all be.
It was not fair. Why did pain have to hurt so much?
The nurse left clutching the balled up cloth in her hoof that gave her three legged trot a less than appealing look. It left him alone in the cold room, wobbling on a cahir that just had to have one leg shorter than the others. He kept himself steady with his hind hooves, but the stone felt as cold as this place did. If the flickering flame in the lantern could only free itself from its glass enclosure and gorge upon its surroundings.
Shimmer raised an eyebrow, was that really what he wanted, to be burnt alive? He shivered as memories of his strange dream came back to him. Dreams were never that lucid. An emptiness panged from within like a plucked string on a harp releasing a long sad note. If only he were that Dragon, then he would never feel like…this again.
Shimmer struggled to his hooves, but all strength left him and he sank back onto the unyielding wood. No, he never wanted to feel like this again.
Shimmer’s ears perked at the sound of hooves clopping on stone, followed by what he guessed was the doctor. The doctor wore cloth died black shaped into a mockery of the armour, the red stone on his shoulder. His cream mane had been cropped to perfect military specifications, and, despite the apron about his neck, he looked every bit like the soldiers guarding the castle.
“Shimmer Steppe,” he said in a gruff voice. “You are awake. Good. My name is Blood Loss, the castle’s battle medic.”
Shimmer huffed in reply. He was getting too blasé about his situation. These ponies tending to him weren’t anypony he could trust, or at least bribe, to actually look after him. For all he knew, they were just going to drug him and make the pain so much worse.
The doctor pulled up a seat and placed a hoof on Shimmer’s forehead. Shimmer tried to pull back and swipe the dirt-coloured hoof away, but his blow mere rested on the doctor’s hoof.
“Don’t,” muttered Shimmer.
The doctor looked at him long and hard, like he were some miscreant foal. “What have you been taking?” he asked.
Shimmer growled. “I’ve taken nothing.”
“I’ve been tasked with keeping you alive, Shimmer,” said the doctor. “And I cannot do that when something is preventing my magic from remaining on your body. This is the fourth time I’ve had to recharge your stitches today.”
The doctor leaned in close. “So tell me what you have taken, or do I have to purge your system?”
“When would I have had a chance to get high?” Shimmer said, “did you not see me get whipped?”
“Aye, and why I was tasked to keep you alive is beyond words. But I do not question the will of my Lord on such matters.” The doctor grabbed Shimmer’s jaw and forced his mouth wide open, despite his choked protests. “Is it Mindrot? Three-leaf? Milk-of-the-lily?”
“Oooooo,” screamed Shimmer. He thrashed and the chair tipped, sending him sprawling to the floor.
The doctor snorted. “Fine, have it your way.” He motioned the nurse over to him. “Could you hold him down, please?”
“Are you sure?”
“There’s no place better for scum like him,” he replied.
The nurse hesitated for a moment before her hooves grabbed him by his chest and hauled him onto his side.
“Right,” said Blood Loss, “Let us see what you are hiding.”
His horn flared and a crippling agony squeezed Shimmer’s stomach. Burning liquid made its way up his throat and what little of it spilled across the stone to drip into cracks between the slabs. A round of retching wracked his limbs and more hot, disgusting bile escaped his maw. All the while, the nurse whispered soft, soothing sounds that made little sense to him as she restrained his feeble attempts at fleeing.
The doctor huffed. “Nothing,” he muttered.
“Doctor,” said the nurse. “Another stitch has worn out,” she lifted her hooves, and Shimmer spied his crimson blood dripping from them as he gasped for breath.
“Fine,” grumbled the Doctor, “Flip him over.”
The nurse complied, shifting Shimmer’s weight with apparent ease. The doctor grumbled as Shimmer’s spine tingled with the presence of magic, not that the numbing sensation on his back was enough for him to know what the doctor was doing.
“I just don’t get it,” he said. “I know some Earth Ponies are resistant to magic, but this is on a level I have never seen before.”
“Perhaps,” said the nurse, “we should do this with needle and thread?”
“No time. Orders are to get him on his hooves by tonight.” The doctor leaned close, his cyan eyes reflecting Shimmer’s reflection like a mirror. “What does he see in you?”
Shimmer choked out a snort. “Because I’m better than you.”
The doctor growled, and his magic flared silencing Shimmer’s howling laughter with another round of gagging as his stomach hurled what was left across the floor.
The doctor stomped around the room, his straw-like tail swishing like it were a broom sweeping the floor. Shimmer could practically hear the teeth grinding between each retch. “Nurse,” the doctor said, “clean up the ungrateful lout and put him to bed. And then I want you to refresh his stitches hourly and feed him dinner. Other than that, leave him in the darkness, where his filth can’t distract the other patients.” Doctor Blood Loss stormed out the room, his stomps shaking the castle.
The nurse sighed. “Why did you say such a nasty thing?” she asked. “He saved your life.”
Shimmer stammered but all energy for words left him. What? Her too? But why was he surprised? Of course they would see him as nothing but the dregs from the Eastern District. To them, he should be thankful that he breathed the same air as they.
“You’re all the same,” he breathed. “I’ll prove you wrong.”
The nurse either did not hear it or chose not to, for she did not react. Her ears were not even in his direction. She began humming her happy tune as she lifted him into his freshly lined cot after wrapping bandages around his back.
“There now,” she cooed. “Now you won’t upset the poor washer-lady.” She left his side, “I’ll be back later with dinner and I’ll check on your wounds. Now get some rest, and hopefully you’ll remember your manners.”
Shimmer growled at the mare and she rolled her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders and pulled shut the door with her maw, the metallic clink of metal bar sliding into place echoed around the room.
Silence reigned as the lantern light flickered and made the shadows dance. Shimmer sighed and pulled the sheet-for-a-duvet over him. He would show them all that he was great. He would show them all that he was the most powerful pony in this Kingdom. He would make them rue the times they called him a rat from the Eastern District.
He closed his eyes and wished to the Gods to bless him with another dream about the dragon.
--
The moon greeted him as the medical staff promptly kicked him out of the infirmary. The soldiers, however, had been waiting for him.
“Come with us,” one of them said, with a hint of a smile on his olive green face. They led him across the courtyard, from the short, massive tower, to the one of middling height. Attached to the side of the great fortress of stone smaller buildings, each puffing out thick, black smoke up its side. The ring of hammers filled the air as the scents of brimstone and ash tickled his nostrils. The smithy of Safe Haven sprawled around him like a small town in of itself. This was the only place that had the magic strong enough to forge the black in the armour. What else they did was lost on Shimmer.
The guards took him through the main passageway and past many smiths beating broken blades and bent metal back into shape.
“The forge is always busy,” said the guard “Especially when the powers above cannot see that one forge, no matter how big, cannot provide armour for an entire military.”
The second guard, a rugged stallion who, by the looks of the stump poking up the plate on one side, used to be a Pegasus, laughed. “So are you doubting Sombra’s logic?”
The first guard went stiff, his cropped emerald tail standing pert. “No, of course not. It’s just…”
“Oh relax, newbie. He can’t hear us.” The second Guard winked. “Th’ forge is the best in Equestria both Royal and New. Besides, would you want some smith’s apprentice’s shoddy work protecting your hide?”
“Err, no.”
“Well, there we go then. Problem solved.”
Shimmer looked between the two, a curious look to his face. “What are we doing here?”
“Come on, silly,” said the first. “We’re getting your armour back!”
The second soldier chuckled and leaned towards Shimmer, “Beware, friend, this one’s noisier than a Hydra on a rampage.
“I had a look,” said the first guard. “I hope you don’t mind. But bone! How did you even forge it? And that staff of yours, did you know it’s a femur you attached a blade to? What did it come from? How did you make it? Is it better than steel?”
The questions kept going, and Shimmer visibly slumped. The pain in his back may have disappeared like the angry welts that once covered it, but the pain in his head was only getting worse. The second soldier chuckled. “I’m glad he’s got some-pony else to talk to.”
Shimmer tried to answer as best he could. No, he did not make it; he re-appropriated it off a corpse. No, he had no idea what bone it was, or what it came from. He just knew it was light and flexible, and strong.
But the questions kept on coming, even when the second soldier helped clip the breast plate to his back plate and tighten the leather straps around his belly. His back may not hurt anymore, but his muscles still felt like they had been through the meat grinder. Finally, after the first soldier began questioning his lashing, Shimmer’s patience snapped.
“What” he cried, “is your problem? Why do you even care what I think?”
The second soldier coughed. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Where are my manners, my name is Steel Song, and this pony here is Green Tea…”
“…Of House Trinity.”
Shimmer gagged on his words. Of House Trinity? This kid was not just noble born, but part of the most powerful family that still had independence from New Equestria? Wild thoughts floated through his mind. He wondered how many thousands of bits he could ransom the kid back for. He glanced over at colt staring haplessly at one of the smith’s hard at work, spraying sparks with every crack of his hammer. Even in the armour the kid looked thin and sickly, overpowering him would not be an issue.
But why would a High noble house let one of theirs join Sombra’s ranks? Wasn’t that sort of thing seen as uncouth or something?
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Steel Song. “but the kid’s good in a scrap, I’ve seen it myself.”
“But what does this have to do with me?” asked Shimmer.
Green Tea…of House Trinity, turned and beamed at him. “Don’t you know? We’re part of your escort. We’re going to see a real life dragon temple. Oh, my Uncle is going to be so embarrassed when I tell him that I’ve been there. He told me that they did not exist!”
Shimmer sighed. Not only was he leading a caravan to almost certain doom, his journey was going to be non-ending incessant chatter. His luck could not get any worse.
“Are there more than just…us going?” asked Shimmer.
“Yup,” Steel Song, his rumbling voice filled with mirth. “We got twenty soldiers and over forty of the…”
“Rats?” asked Shimmer.
“I was going to say Mercenaries. But yes, forty of them. And that’s not counting the caravan and its guard.”
It help ease the tension in his belly but he still felt the queasiness turn his stomach. He was leading a small army, but was it enough to slay the beast he knew was just waiting for him. Shimmer gulped, if only there were a way out.
“What’s wrong?” asked Green Tea, “you look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” He put a hoof on his chin and suddenly beamed with delight. “Oh don’t you worry! We’ll find this place. We have mud waders, plenty of maps, more water than you could ever imagine, and supplies to last us until Hearths Warming. What else could we need?”
“Do we have enough arrows?” asked Shimmer, not even looking at the annoying noble.
“What?”
“Nothing…”
--
Shimmer, now reunited with his armour and weapon of choice, lost his chaperones for the quietness of a Southern District that had well and truly shut up shop for the evening. The moon shone down and reflected upon the still damp cobblestone, turning dull stone into crystal. He let his body sway to the rhythm in his head as he headed towards the Eastern district one last time. He knew it was silly, perhaps downright stupid to go back there, but somehow, he wanted to walk its streets one last time before he met certain doom.
And he wanted to apologise to Sun Spear. That pony had been right all along; look at the mess he was in now. Maybe he could scrounge two more ciders, and they could share a drink, just like old times. He realised that some part of him refused to head in the right direction, and he ended up wandering aimlessly between buildings, taking a similar roundabout route to that of a buzzing fly. He guessed that if he continued wandering, midnight would never come.
Shimmer stopped. His sixth sense flared and he heard the clatter of a loose stone bouncing on the cobbles. He turned and lowered his weapon. Crap. The last thing he needed right now was to get a roughing from the constabulary.
“Well, well, well,” said a voice from behind. The voice had a flowery quality to it, but that of daisies or sunflowers. It was more like the toxic seduction of Nightshade. “Is it not the Rat that climbed into the King’s bed.” Glow, the unicorn from the gatehouse, stepped out of the shadows, followed by several other Guard-ponies. Each one wore their civilian Guard tunics of white and grey, but, more worryingly, each one had their axes by their hips.
Noise attracted Shimmer to the bulky Pegasus blocking his only way of escape. “Do you remember me?” he snarled.
“Oink, oink, oink,” said Shimmer, returning a smirk.
“Oh, the rat puffs its chest,” said Glow. “But can it evade the flash of the blade?” Her side took a few steps forwards.
“Do you really want to tangle with me?” said Shimmer. Inside, his back protested and utter exhaustion fogged his mind, telling him to back down, to surrender.
The hairs rose over his body and his legs itched with impatience. Surrender was not an option. These Ponies did not look satisfied with a simple beating. The ponies unsheathed their axes, holding them in their mouths. At least the Pegasi could not take flight, for fear of alerting the real guard.
“You,” said Glow. She spat on the ground. “You ruined everything.”
“Then can I have my gem back?” said Shimmer.
“Sombra’s minions took it,” she snarled. “It turns out that they suddenly had an invested interest of how the Rats kept infiltrating their precious city. And their hounds went straight to me.”
Shimmer laughed. Oh it was funny. He knew what happened next, “And now you’re one of us. Outcast. A filthy, disgusting Rat. Everything you hate. Oh, this is too good. Take it from me, don’t head too far into the slums, that’s where the real nasty ponies are.”
“I will have your head!” she screamed as a stream of @@@ light hurled a spear straight at Shimmer. She rolled to his side and darted straight for her, his bone-spear in mouth. He ducked as something ruffled his mane, followed by the thrum of a crossbow. He lunged at Glow, but he collided into what felt like an invisible brick wall.
The wall of air expanded and pushed him away like a leaf in the wind. But Shimmer rolled in the wave of air and faced the charging Pegasi, rage burning like coals in his eyes. The Pegasi twisted, but Shimmer collided with expert deftness, crushing the massive pony under his hooves. Shimmer swiped once with his blade, finding the tender flesh of wing and the agonised screams of his victim. The sweep of his blade continued until it clashed with the axe of the Earth pony behind. Mismatched plates adorned this pony, all tied to him with bits of string. But his stance was solid, and the muscles underneath rippled as the pony hooked the underside edge around Shimmer’s staff, and pulled.
Shimmer broke the engagement by rolling onto his hind hooves, and swinging his staff full circle.
The pony shoulder checked the oncoming blade, sparks flying off his pauldron and helm, as he darted close and swung his axe.
Shimmer blocked the attack with the stem of the staff, turned and bucked the pony with all his strength. He did not have time to see the pony fly, and instead listened to the heavy thump of metal. Another magically propelled javelin came straight at his face, but dropped to the floor and the projectile pinged off his armour to summersault and sink into the ground nearby.
Another axe came at him, this time by a small, green pegasi that chose chain over plate. His strike was clumsy and Shimmer slapped the weapon away and drove the point of his spear straight into the pony’s chest. The pony did not have a chance to cough out blood before he fell to the paving stones, dead.
The wingless Pegasi roared and charged Shimmer down. He swung his axe with such velocity that it bit into the bone with each strike. Shimmer reared and dropped the spear into his awaiting hooves. Long, whistling sweeps pushed back the Pegasus, but his back roared in protest for the unnatural position. The Pegasi bull rushed him when Shimmer’s sweep went a little too far. They fell in a heap and an axe cracked the cobblestone next to his head. Shimmer pushed his staff up with all his might, straining as the great mass swung his axe again and again. Shimmer felt the heat of the breath upon him as the pegasi snapped at him like a rabid dog.
With a roar, Shimmer rolled and bucked. The Pegasi flew into the air, and his wing instinctively unfurled. The Pegasus screamed and fell into a puddle of his own blood.
“Damn you, Rat!” said Glow from behind. The sixth sense flared, but Shimmer could not dive out the way before a million biting ants crashing into his hindquarters and sent him tumbling across the cobblestones. He gasped and tumbled into the wall of a building, the solid stone offering no quarter.
The sound of rolling hoof beats thundering his way gave strength to his weakening back and with great effort, he flipped back onto his hooves, taking the armoured Earth pony out by surprise. With one sweep of the staff, the Pony’s throat opened up, and the poor sod collapsed, gurgling on his own life’s fluid.
Shimmer panted heavily, his muscles felt close to the edge, as if one more flip would snap them in half. Warmth seeped down his legs where the magic hit, and he found it painful to put his weight on. At least there were only two left standing, Glow and the archer.
Fear was evident on the poor Guards-pony and as his gaze set on her, she dropped her crossbow and fled into the darkness. Glow scowled as her horn aimed the three javelins, made with dull heads mounted on a thin wooden shaft, floating behind her at the fleeing pony. Without a single sound, the javelins disappeared followed by an ear shattering scream.
A painful walk took Shimmer back into direct moonlight. He tried to hide his limp with a casual grace, dropped the staff onto his shoulder and gave her an easy smile. “Had enough?” he asked while he stared in mock concern at the chipped and bloody hoof.
“You…you,” she spat. Her javelins clattered on the floor as all magic left them. “I will take everything from you, like you did to me.”
“Oh come on, you know I have nothing to give. I’m a dirty Rat after all.”
“Then I will take your life. I will offer your blood to the Sorcerers and I will eat your soul.” She reached into a saddlebag partially hidden by her armour and threw hundreds of tiny steel barbs into the street below. Her magic caught each one, holding them above her like a silver cloud. She closed her eyes as a static charge made her fuzz stand on end. Her horn erupted into a blinding over glow that made her bare her teeth.
Shimmer dropped to a crouch and prepared to roll, but there was no way he would be able to escape. He set his rear hoof on the cobblestone. He had to charge; there was no other way. If he could get through that wall of death, then the battle was over.
Shimmer charged.
The barbs flew.
Something hit Shimmer hard on the back and the pain overwhelmed his mind. His hooves stumbled on the uneven surface and his skull cracked the pavement, making his head ring like a bell. He tried to move, but his body refused. He choked out a breath as the pains sank in and constricted his lungs. He needed to move, the barbs would shred him to pieces.
But where were they?
Shimmer looked up and saw the figure of a tall, armoured pony standing by her lonesome in the moonlight, the small metal barbs lying motionless all around her. How could it possibly be? It was the general that escorted him to his lashings!
She turned and stared at Shimmer as if he were some foreign object in a pernickety pony’s home. “You surprise me,” she said. “Even after my Lord beat you to the gateway of Tartarus, you managed to almost win an impossible fight.”
Shimmer grimaced as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He placed a hoof over his rear and it returned dripping with his blood. He gritted his teeth and twisted his body until he saw the bloody gouge where a protruding bone from his armour should have been. His cutie mark was lost under a steady stream of red. “Oh hell,” he muttered.
His spine tingled and he turned to see that the general had stepped closer with her horn glowing amber. He winced as his rear felt like some pony had branded him, but found the wound closing itself to leave yet another scar.
“That will suffice,” muttered the general. “I only know military basics when it comes to the art of arcane medicine, but a basic wound like that I can deal with. The muscle damage around your spine is something I will get the caravan doctor to deal with.”
Shimmer stared at her, unsure how to react. “Thanks?” he said confusion on his expression. His ears suddenly perked. “Glow? Where is she?”
“The unicorn escaped into the night. Now please, come with me.”
Shimmer gingerly got up and collected his staff, attaching it to the armour on his back. Even after the healing, he carried a limp that gave him a slow wobbling gait. However, the general remained a stride away from his side, although she never looked at him.
“What made you go to Sombra?” she asked.
Shimmer snorted. “Fame, glory.”
“Everypony wants that. But it does not make them face their Lord and Master with a history of crime and a vague promise of riches.” She hummed as her focused disappeared went elsewhere.
She perked with a twitch. “What is it that makes you want fame and fortune?”
Shimmer rolled his eyes. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because you intrigue me. Ponies, especially your breed, are easy to understand. They want to get by earning enough so that they can throw their lives away on some petty vice. It’s not common for a pony in your situation to impress King Sombra long enough to let him hear you out.”
“Wait, he was planning to kill me before we even talked?”
She shook her head. “He had talked about stringing you up on the walls to feed the crows, but something about you…made him pause. A curiosity, perhaps. I do not know. This is the reason why I have come to you. I want to find out what he sees.
“I will be accompanying you on this trip to your dragon temple.”
Shimmer shook his head. “Oh no, you don’t want to do that.”
She cocked her head. “Why not?” she eyed him. “Is this about that dragon you claimed you saw?”
“It’s not a claim, it’s a fact,” he replied. “Look, I don’t care if you come and get devoured like the rest of us. But, I owe you one.” He tried to give her his best haunted stare.
She snorted and her eyes lit up, amused. “Dragons have not existed for hundreds of years, what you saw was merely an illusion. The tomes said that their magic was tricky. You probably just set off an ancient trap.”
“It was not an illusion, mirage or vision. It was a real live, fire breathing, smoke snorting, pissed off dragon.”
Her smile was devilish. Did he just see correctly? Were her teeth pointed? But with a slight start, she strode forwards. If he was not mistaken, he could have sworn he saw the hints of shame in the way she slumped her shoulders.
Before he could open his mouth, she turned. “I’d advise you to come. Otherwise, I cannot guarantee your safety.”
Shimmer grunted. If she wants to die, then it’s fine by him. Shimmer wobbled after her, his hind leg moving with all the grace of a square cart wheel. “If you’re coming with me, can I at least know your name?”
Without turning, she said “General Amaranth,” as she turned the corner and headed towards the main road.
--
Shimmer sneezed, which startled him. The shockwave sent a shiver down his spine, which enraged the swollen beast that made his back. General Amaranth had pushed him up into the back of the most well appointed wagon he had ever seen. Beneath the heavy canvas propped up by a thick wooden frame, there sat a firm, yet pliable mat. Around him, tinctures, powders and liquids sat in row upon row of shelves, and the combined whiff of herbs and spices he could never believe existed merged into an overwhelming stink that burned the back of his throat.
It was acrid, actually. And Shimmer decided that this must be some elaborate scheme to ‘punish the Rat’. He fell onto the mat and stared at all the bunches of dried leaves hanging from the cross beams, releasing their pungent odour into the miasma.
The doors opened with such force it shook the entire wagon. Shimmer lifted himself up and found a familiar face scowling at him. Blood Loss gave Shimmer a long hard stare as the battle medic’s ear twitched. Glass bottles and tinctures clanked together as the pony, armoured only with fabric, stomped onto the cart.
“We meet again, Shimmer,” he said through grated teeth. “I am to be your doctor on this trip.”
Shimmer wriggled to get his hooves underneath him, but the medics hoof on his shoulder kept him down. “It seems you have torn all your stitches and have significant damage to your leg.” He huffed. “Why am I not surprised?”
Shimmer remained quiet. He sniffled and rubbed his nose, much to the disgust of his host. But that did not stop the shiver as the cold hoof of the doctor rubbed his back as if probing for something.
“This is not good,” he muttered. He released a long breath as Shimmer’s sixth sense flared. “Not good at all.”
Blood Loss looked up and down one of the shelves, producing a herb from one of the jars. He proffered it to Shimmer within his silver magic. “Eat this,” he said.
Shimmer gave it a sniff. It smelt like a pine forest just after rainfall. “What is…”
Shimmer got no response other than a herb forced straight into his mouth. He coughed and spluttered as the foul tasting thing found his throat. He gagged, but the magic forced his jaw shut and pinched his nostrils closed. Shimmer swallowed.
The effect of the herb was immediate, and Shimmer sighed as he relaxed onto the mat. He felt the twangs in his back as something played on his muscles like a harp, but the pain felt…good as exhausted relief washed over him. A powerful smell of metal clung to Shimmer like the static had on his fur, but no blood pooled anywhere. He sniffed a few times but that only made him sneeze Shimmer chuckled as the strange sensations crept up and down his spine. He barely noticed the laboured breathing of the battle medic above him.
“What…is…wrong…with you?” panted Blood Loss. He growled in frustration and the dim light suddenly evaporated into the silver explosion. Shimmer gasped as his entire body bucked and contorted and then went still, but though he did not move, he felt as if he were in the thick of combat. He groaned as even the muscles around his jaw pulled painfully taut.
And then the magical grip left him, and Shimmer gasped a breath. “What in all of the Gods was that?” he cried.
Blood Loss’s head drooped and he fell onto his rump above a large, padlocked shut, chest. “I could not stitch the muscle together,” he said. “I had to fuse it…all of it…together.”
He took a few more breaths and growled. “Now get out of my caravan. Rats are not welcome here.”
“charming,” replied Shimmer. Blood Loss growled. His head may have drooped and his eye lids hung heavy, but the intensity behind that stare did not hide the sheer hatred this doctor had for him. “All right, all right.”
Shimmer opened the door with a nudge of his head. “Oh, and Doc, I’m a citizen now. You should treat me like one.”
Shimmer jumped just as a few glass jars smashed on the closing door. Shimmer landed with an easy grace and a smile on his face. That doctor may be an utter bastard, but he sure knew his magic. A new pony left the caravan, even if he were still a bit sniffly. But what did it matter if he had a cold? It was nothing compared to being fighting fit.
Around Shimmer, almost a hundred ponies went about the business, setting up the caravan for the long trip to the Bottomless Bog. Twenty soldiers lined the edges of the main street, each one pointed towards the large gatehouse protecting them from the dangerous outside and, more importantly, to the overflow of the Eastern District. Three wagons stood proud and tall, each one flying the Mark of Sombra upon a mast. Tradesponies went in between, loading travel rations, arrows, blankets and other necessities wherever a rope would hold it on. He even noticed a pile of at least twenty saddlebags disappear inside the lead caravan.
But it was the mercenaries that interested him. Each one so unlike the uniform soldiers of the military in a million different ways. The buzz of excitement hung in the air and energised Shimmer.
And then Shimmer spied Sun Spear, fully armoured and carrying his three-quarter length spear on his back. He noticed Shimmer and waved. Shimmer approached and they wrapped each other in a hug.
“I can’t believe you did it, you horse-mad lunatic,” Sun Spear said. “I actually…wow. You just scored us the biggest gig yet.” He pointed at the crowd of ponies around him. “just look at this. It’s like we’re in an army.”
Shimmer smiled. “You do realise that it will be us pulling the caravans through the bog, right?”
A playful push from Sun Spear was his response. The young mercenary’s eyes lit up. You think, when you return and I get my commendation, that we’ll stay together through the military? Those types are always so stuffy about conversation.”
Shimmer laughed. “I’m sure they’ll love to lump you in the same boat as me. But, we’ll show them that we’re worthy to wear the black.”
Sun Spear laughed and beckoned Shimmer over to a group of mercenaries. Each one, just like Shimmer and Sun Spear, wore tatted bits of leather armour mixed with all sorts of weapons from curved blades to scythes to a pitchfork. But each one, Shimmer recognised as the more capable of the Eastern Districts offerings. He could have sworn that he had brawled with a couple.
Each nodded to him respectively, which caught Shimmer off guard. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“We’ve been told to report to you. They told us that they will report to you. Sir, you are commanding this caravan.”
What? Shimmer reeled and rocked on his hooves. So much for feeling like a new pony. He asked for clarification and the mercenary repeated what he said. This was unthinkable. He was a rat…well he used to be. But still, this was a position of authority that somepony like him could never achieve. And it explained the suspicious gazes from his fellow ruffians. In a way, Shimmer had made it. He was living the dream that most ponies fought tooth a hoof for even a fraction of. They must have been so jealous right then…
“Isn’t it great!” sun Spear said, “with you in charge, I’ll never have to pull the cart!”
The tall dark form of General Amaranthe approached them, but somehow, her losing her armour in favour for a travel gear and saddlebags only made her look more formidable in a mysterious sense. Her long flowing mane fell down her side, but without the helm on, he could truly see that she was not all angles and hard stares. Her muzzle was a little less protruding than he had expected and was accompanied by a softness in her features. Her mane and fur lacked any form of dirt or mark and she seemed curious about everything as if this was her first time out.
“Shimmer,” she said. “I have put you in charge of this caravan.”
“I know,” he replied. “Why?”
“The best way to find out about a theory is to test it. The same theory applies to ponies.” She gave a small hint of a smile, but her lips never parted. “Besides, you said yourself that you wanted to prove yourself to Sombra. This is your chance.”
She walked off, satisfied with herself, and leaving Shimmer cringing. The mercenary to his left, a balding Earth Pony with a heavy stubble on his muzzle spat on the floor. A floor mounted bow, a monster of wood capable of firing bolts as thick as a foal’s hoof through a fully armoured soldier, was strapped to a loose chainmail jerkin. “Just because Sombra’s bitch has a hard-on for you don’t mean I have too. If this place don’t exist, I’ll save our miserable lord the trouble and impale you myself.”
“Nice to meet you too,” replied Shimmer. The mercenary spat on the floor and walked off.
“Why is it that every-pony I meet hates me in a different way?” asked Shimmer.
“I think it’s your personality,” said Sun Spear. “Or your looks. Or both.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
--
Shimmer spent the next few hours in a mire of complete frustration as ponies from different backgrounds requested all sorts of things Shimmer had no clue about. He tried his best, but the constant stream of rolling information turned into just another row between him and somepony regaling him about expenses over and over until the portly pony’s face turned blue. Shimmer refused to give him a single bit; he had no idea what the pony was charging for anyway. At least endless years working as a mercenary had given him the basics of leading and organisation, even if those skills were seriously sub-par for the tasks at hoof.
Shimmer also instigated the organisation of the soldiers and the mercenaries. A small group of two or three soldiers would head an entire group of ten or more mercs. This job just happened to fall to steel song and Green Tea, who both seemed quite happy with the prospect. However, it surprised him when General Amaranth refused.
“I may be a General, but I am no soldier,” she said.
“But, Generals lead the armies. That’s what Generals are for!” replied shimmer.
“Alas, but this rank is more ceremonial than practical. The Captains take those roles. Generals merely give the Captains directions.”
“But can you fight?” asked Shimmer, hardly believing what he was hearing.
Amaranth scraped a hoof in the dirt. “I know soldiercraft, but the battlefield is not my place. I am a scholar and a tactician. And as such, my place is by the side of the leading authority.”
He could not believe it. One of King Sombra’s most trusted confidants, and Shimmer could probably beat her in a fight! No wonder she took him away from the hustle and bustle of the main road and down a few side alleys.
“Just because I don’t fight does not make me weak,” she said with force in her tone.
“I did not say anyt…”
“But you thought it. It’s written on your face as clear as day.” She calmed down, the static around her dissipating into the air. “Besides, we have plenty of soldiers. But how many ponies knows how to play the game of war?”
Shimmer shook his head. “This is not some long drawn campaign.”
She nodded. “I expected another surprise from you, but alas, I believe we’ve reached your limit.”
Shimmer huffed as he inspected the newly refurbished wheel. Some poor craftspony had spent the last few hours with a saw, cutting out a section of the felloes whose wood had softened and splintered alarmingly. The fresh section, a pale yellow join among the dirty brown frame, shone with a fresh lacquer underneath a fresh cloth tyre.
Ameranth followed him around the wagon. “Your troop placement has at least three different vulnerabilities that I can see; you have not seen to the caravan master; and you have not secured passageway out of the city.”
“This is the largest caravan I have seen in years,” muttered Shimmer, “they’ll get the message.”
He pressed against the wheel and nodded as it stood firm. “I think we’re ready.”
=====some things happened====
The gates opened with a squeal, the guards waving through the procession as it trundled along. Six Mercenaries in their colourful rags pulled the three hulking wagons, surrounded by the shining black of Sombra’s soldiers. A great banner, the red crystal, rose into the air at the front, its fabric catching in the wind.
A crowd had gathered as Shimmer walked towards the final gatehouse that would take them outside. The faces of ponies, both well to do and haggard and worn, watched the spectacle with an idle curiosity, as if the machinations of Sombra’s will could be boiled down to simple troop movements.
How Shimmer wished he were on that side of the wall of guards. How much easier would his life be if he did not have to invade the lair of a dragon…again. He trotted beside Amaranth, who looked as much at ease as a doll in the hooves of an angry foal. Although she kept her head high and walked with the ease and grace of high society, he noticed her shuffling underneath her travel cloak as if she hid a hive of ants. Sun Spear had no issue, whatsoever, and had struck up conversation between a few of the mercenaries walking beside the second wagon.
He passed underneath the great arch and felt the squelch underneath his hooves as cobblestone turned to dirt. “Be ready,” he said. The nearest mercenaries leered at him.
“The foal thinks he’s captain,” he heard one of them say to his friend. The friend, an axe-wielding butter coloured pony who’s curled lips and battle-ravaged skin belied his cheery colouring, snorted and turned to look.
Shimmer ignored the comments and kept walking, ears forward. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight of his staff attached on his back and the machete on his side.
“You should make it an order,” said Amaranth.
“Why?” asked Shimmer.
“Because you are Captain and you need to show them that.”
Shimmer snorted.
“Ignore my words all you like,” she said, “but it will hurt you.”
“Fine,” he snorted. He closed his eyes and thought back to the times he had done caravan runs. “Guards,” he shouted. “Form rank!”
Without hesitation, the soldiers stepped in unison, sending shockwaves across the ground and mud up the legs of protesting mercenaries. They stepped in front of one another and formed two lines guarding the sides of the caravan.
“Form rank!” The mercenaries watched him with a mix of irritation and hatred. Shimmer growled, he was going to hate himself for this. “This is my caravan and you are under my command. Form Rank!”
“Oh yeah?” said a bulky unicorn with a scar over one eye, Light Weaver his name was. “You’re not in charge of this and you’re not the one paying us.”
Shimmer trotted up to him. “Do I have to make you?”
The unicorn spat onto Shimmer’s hooves. “I will not take orders from Sombra’s pet Rat.”
And it dawned on Shimmer. Was this Amaranth’s doing? Had she deliberately put him in a position where absolutely every-pony would hate him? Was this one of her tests? Take her to Tartarus! And take this low life with her.
“I will not ask again,” Shimmer growled.
“Make me,” said the Unicorn. His horn flared and a force hit Shimmer square in the chest. Shimmer stood his ground, his hooves digging into the dirt. The Unicorn unsheathed a circular blade, like a discus but with a ring of terrifyingly sharp steel. He threw it in the air, caught it with his magic and threw it at Shimmer.
Shimmer roared, batted the discus away with his hoof – the blade chipping the rough nail-like substance—and sprinted after the Unicorn. Another burst of magic interrupted Shimmer, but he pushed through with surprising ease. He lunged onto the unicorn and slammed him into the dirt. A yellow glow enveloped his horn, and Shimmer’s six sense told him something happened, but by the way the unicorn’s eyes widened, something went wrong. Shimmer smashed his hoof into the unicorn’s face, feeling something snap underneath it.
The unicorn cried out as blood poured from his muzzle, but another blow kept him quiet. The creature underneath him looked so weak that he tasted the bile rising in the back of his throat. Which of the Gods put him in charge of these pathetic lumps?
He needed to take charge of them. He needed to show them the way. He would make them his, and show them their true place in this world. “Will you submit to me?” Shimmer shouted.
“I give up!” said the Unicorn.
Even the sound coming from his pathetic, useless throat sounded rancid. Shimmer’s hooves found the soft flesh of the mercenary’s neck as he fought against the desire to just press down. But death was too easy a way out for this creature. Shimmer punched him again. “That’s not what I asked. Will. You. Submit. To. Me?” Shimmer struck him again.
“Yes,” he cried.
Shimmer roared and smacked the pony one last time. He suddenly realised that every-pony had stopped to watch him. He got off the unicorn, who had started sniffling and addressed his audience. “what are you waiting for? Form Up!”
Every-pony scrambled into position. Even the mercenaries that had once given him nasty looks. Shimmer should have been happy. Things were going his way, and the rush of adrenaline felt wonderful. But something itched in the back of his throat, like he had accidentally swallowed a bug, and no amount of coughing would bring it up.
He rubbed the sweat off his brow with a shaky hoof. He felt the ice sink into his flesh, even though it was relatively warm. It was like he had jumped into an icy lake. Did he just do that?
“That was quite a display,” said Amaranth, “ruthless.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” shouted Sun Spear. “What, in all the gods’ names, was that?”
Shimmer groaned. “Go away Sunny,” muttered Shimmer. “And you too General. Please.”
“No,” Sun Spear said. “Dammit Shimmer, I know you’re an idiot but do you have to be a moron as well?”
“It’s my task to keep this caravan going,” Shimmer said. “I cannot afford to mess up.”
Sun Spear’s jaw hung loose as he stared at me, stunned. “But by almost killing a pony…” Sun Spear stepped to the side, allowing Shimmer to see the mercenary get back to his hooves. His chest rose and sank in a heavy jarring motion as he gasped for breath. The mercenary gave a hasty look in Shimmer’s direction, his eyes wide as if he was seeing for the first time. And, by the looks of it, he was terrified of what he saw. “…Can you afford to do that?”
“The acquisition of order and discipline through the use of overwhelming force,” Amaranth said in a formal business-like tone, “a useful tactic for establishing the boundaries.”
“You can stay out of this,” screamed Sun Spear.
Amaranth did not even bat an eye lid, for all intents and purposes, she could have been a statue. Her words remained calm and civil. “Need I remind you that with one order I can have you strung up over the city walls. But I won’t give the order. I will leave that to the Captain, here.”
“And I say no,” Shimmer said. “No-pony is going to die. But if I am leading this merry band, then I need both of you to leave me alone.” He rubbed his temple with a hoof, “you’re giving me a headache.”
“As you wish,” Amaranth said, turning tail.
Sun Spear growled. “This isn’t over, Shimmer. I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned and ran towards the front of the caravan, where most of the mercenaries had formed a rough block five ponies wide and six long.
But, at least Shimmer was alone, trotting behind the lumbering medical wagon at the back. What happened to him back there? Even in the thick of battle, he had never lost it like he had just then. In fact, he prided himself with his control. But this was…different. It was like he was a different pony entirely. For that moment, he felt like the dragon in his dream. Powerful and filled with a rage that could melt steel.
He shook his head. He could not afford to get distracted right now. He had just alienated every single mercenary under his command, including Sun Spear. And, although they would probably follow his orders during the day but by night time, they would probably be plotting to put a shiv into his spine.
The caravan trundled along through the clustered shanty homes that seemed to swarm up and over each other like plants fighting for the sunlight. Ponies stopped and stared at the caravan. Shimmer could see their ribs through their skin and a few of them sported untreated cuts that oozed disgusting white fluid that added to the unwelcome stench of Lower Haven, the town that spilled out of the crumbled walls of Eastern District to occupy the surrounding land outside the Southern Gatehouse.
Shimmer tried to not look at the unfortunate souls that called this hole their own. A couple of foals poked their heads around a darkened corner, their manes unkempt and their bodies filthy. The older sister sported a burn marks over her thigh that completely masked her Cutie Mark.
“Please, Mister,” said the younger one with an eye swollen shut. “Spare us a single bit. We have nothing.” The soldier pushed them out of the way like the trash society thought they were. The fact was, Shimmer could not blame the soldier. Those kids were effectively dead already. No-pony could last in this place without doing things that would turn a decent pony’s stomach.
Shimmer shook his head. This was not right. None of this was right. How could the leader of the realm just let this happen right outside his doorstep?
He kept walking, feeling the weight of his staff on his back. His gaze shifted between alleyway to alleyway, his mind interpreting every movement as a crouching assailant, every speck of light as the flash of a blood thirty blade.
“This won’t do,” he trotted over to a couple of soldiers, both sporting wings. “Hey,” he said. They both saluted and some little gremlin inside of Shimmer burst with glee. “I need you up in the sky, see if any-pony is waiting to jump out at us.”
“Yes sir,” they said. They spread their wings and with a violent gust of air, propelled themselves up and over the nearside buildings.
Not feeling reassured one bit, Shimmer returned to the rear of the column. The sooner he was out of this place, the better.
The path went down at a steady decline, and to Shimmer, it felt like the stink had followed it. The wheels of the wagons sank deeper and deeper into the mud and left deeper lines in the ground, but the efforts of the earth ponies pulling them kept them rolling.
There had been several occasions that the mercenaries had to rush a couple of desperate ponies out for the way using heavy clubs. Even with that, the ponies followed behind and made Shimmer think of them as Timberwolves tracking their prey. He tried to ignore them. They were just curious. They were not going to do anything bad.
“Captain.” The blue Pegasus landed next to him, splashing in the mud. He saluted, rubbing mud onto his helmet. “The path ahead has been blocked. We’re rolling into an ambush.”
Shimmer hesitated. Crap, just what I needed.
“Numbers?” he asked.
“I saw about ten in the buildings around it, but they were all in cover. I think there will be much more.”
“Is there another way around?”
“I have sent Flitterfly to look for another path out. But most of these streets are too narrow for the wagons.”
Shimmer took in a deep breath. “Then we’re going through. Get yourselves ready.”
Shimmer shouted and with a earth pounding stomp, the soldiers dropped the clubs and picked up their spears. The mercenaries did likewise, but in a flurry of frantic running and commotion.
Shimmer hefted his staff off his shoulder and into his mouth. He paced to the front of the column. Houses lined each side with such density that he could not tell when one home ended and another began. Bits of broken bottles and suspiciously yellow puddles covered the street, attracting a horde of flies. And up in front, Shimmer could see a mass of rubble, wooden boards and scrap metal. They had toppled the building.
“Get ready!” he shouted, the staff muffling his voice.
“Sir,” It was Green Tea. He could see the young colt’s wide eyes and shaky hooves. “They’re behind us. A whole load of them.”
Crap.
Shimmer looked around. He needed to think of something fast. The trap was going to spring.
Amaranth stepped out from behind the wagon. “Captain, do you require assistance?”
Shimmer nodded.
Amaranth returned the nod. “Very well, let me handle this.”
She turned to Green Tea. “Soldier! Take your team and two others and hold this point. Use the buildings for cover.” She pointed to the ponies pulling the wagons. “Get those into the centre of the column. Protect them with your lives.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
Without pause she commanded the mercenaries back into formation. Pegasi took flight, crossbows in hoof and belly quivers full of bolts.
In the time it took to draw a single breath, wild screaming erupted from behind. “They have food!”
“Get them!”
“Bastards!”
In the next breath, a wave of ponies flooded the street and crashed against a wall of armour and steel. Cries of agony reined as a soldier in front of Shimmer reared up and jabbed a spear straight into a ragged pony’s shoulder. He saw the look of surprise on her face as the light left her eyes.
The soldier to Shimmer’s left stumbled as a Pegasus dropped on her like a brick. Shimmer swung his staff, the bladed end cutting into the assailant’s leg. As the Pegasus dropped, another one flew out of the window, only to spurt blood as a bold sank into his flesh.
Heat crashed against Shimmer as something exploded to his right. A mercenary dropped to the floor screaming as the fire ate him alive. Shimmer recoiled as another explosion left spots in his eyes. Dammit, they had bombs.
Shimmer ran over to a unicorn dressed in thick leather painted black and white. He pointed at a window on the other side of the street, where a burly beige pony with a dirty beard and a maniacal expression on his face clutched a full bottle with a lit rag stuffed into the neck. “Up there!”
She nodded and closed her eyes. Static built up around her and a bolt of yellow light erupted from her horn. The window exploded sending debris down into the street below, taking the pony and his bottle with it. A second explosion of intense flame sealed that pony’s fate.
Amaranth’s voice cut through the cacophony. “Get in the buildings, clear them out!” Shimmer spotted her behind the ring of wagon-pullers. “Shimmer,” she cried. “Hold the front. I’m, going to flush them into you.”
Another scream from above warned Shimmer of the falling Pegasus, this time wearing the jet black armour. His wings had buckled, the flight feather covered in warm red blood.
Shimmer cried out as a stone thumped into his armour. He looked up and saw the soldiers were vastly outnumbered, at least three to one. Their battle was frantic as the soldiers bobbed and weaved, only to stop and raise their crossbows. The crossbow thrummed and another Pegasus fell dead to the floor. The soldier dropped and picked up speed, dodging the onslaught of rocks and rusty blades.
“We need air support!” Shimmer cried. He looked at the unicorn and she nodded. Her horn lit up as she fired bolts into the air. A few more unicorns joined the fight, sending beams of deadly prismatic colour into the air.
His group cleared the front, and pressed against the rubble that made the barrier. Shimmer ordered them to back up and reform their lines, ready to engage the enemy.
It only took a few moments for the sounds of battle in the buildings to grow until he could hear the distinctive cries of Sun Spear. Suddenly a rush of ponies exited the buildings, and crashed into Shimmer’s awaiting line.
They fell quickly as Sun Spear’s group pressed them into his. Suddenly, the sky brightened as the remaining Pegasi fled into the town, bloody and battered. And with that, a howling cheer, fuelled by adrenaline mixed with bloodlust.
Shimmer released a breath as exhaustion settled in. In the hours after battle, Blood Loss got to work. Although, Shimmer noted that he only seemed to be helping the soldiers. Leaving the mercenaries to tend to their own wounds.
“Why are you doing that?” Shimmer asked.
“Can you not see I’m busy?” roared the doctor. “Go bother somepony else.”
Shimmer drew in a breath and supressed the urge to flick his staff back into his maw. “Could you please tend to the mercenaries?” He tried to keep his tone polite, but it was really, really hard. “Some look to be in bad shape.”
“I. Am. Busy.”
Shimmer growled. “Doctor,” he said. “Do your bloody job. I am the Captain and I order you to attend to the ponies under my care.”
Blood Loss stopped wrapping the bandage around the hoof of his patient to give Shimmer a long hard look. “I’d rather die rather than take orders from a dirty gutter rat.”
“Oh I can arrange that.” Shimmer dropped the staff to his shoulder. “Let’s see how good you are at stuffing your own innards back inside of you.”
Suddenly, his staff slipped out of his grasp and zipped into the air. Amaranth stepped in front of him. “There will be no need for that, Captain Shimmer Steppe.”
She turned to the doctor. “Your orders are to obey your captain,” she said.
“But’s not a captain. He’s a joke. Only Sombra’s chosen can become Captain.” He spat on the ground.
Amaranth nodded. “Indeed, that is so. But you are forgetting that I am a General. I am Sombra’s right hoof and who I appoint as acting Captain for this mission is my business. You will not question my decision.”
He growled. “Why waste valuable resources on…them?”
“Because your captain commanded you to do it. So do it, or he’ll book you for insubordination.”
He roared as he violently wrapped the soldiers hoof. The soldier yelped. “Stop whining and take it like a stallion.”
He gave Shimmer another long, hard stare filled with utter contempt. “Fine, I’ll do it.”
Shimmer smiled. “that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”
“Piss off.”
--
“So,” said Shimmer as he watched the remaining mercenaries swarm over the fallen rubble. “your idea is to…blow it up?”
“Correct,” said Amaranth, a small hint of a smile on her face. She jumped when she caught him staring at her and turned her head away. But Shimmer saw fangs she tried to hide. A small burst of her horn, and her teeth looked normal again.
She hastily pointed at Steel Song carrying a large basket on his back. The grizzled Pegasus sported a nasty looking scratch on his armour that revealed the shiny metal underneath and a large dent on his helmet, but he still carried a contented smile as he bobbed his head to some tune only he could hear.
“We found a supply of Molotov cocktails in the top building. They should have enough power to clear a path.”
“I don’t know,” Shimmer said. “This seems dangerous.”
“Oh, it is,” she said. “Which is why we’ll back up.”
“I see.”
--
Sun Spear stood with Shimmer about two hundred yards away from the rubble within one of the shacks. Most of the group lingered around the wagons, tucked safely into small alley ways. But the more adventurous had occupied the shacks at the far end of the street.
Sun Spear practically buzzed with excitement as he stuck his head out of the hole that made a window. He turned to Shimmer and his grin drooped. His gaze returned to the solitary Pegasus holding a lit torch as he flew towards the rubble.
“Not talking to me then?” asked Shimmer.
“Not until you tell me why you screamed ‘I’m Shimmer Steppe. I’m a big fat pony who thinks I’m better than every-pony else. Submit to me or die.’” He said it in an annoying voice while he puffed out his chest and pouted.
Shimmer sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“Lier.”
“No, I’m serious. It was like I was a different pony entirely. For that moment…my blood boiled.”
“Sure.”
Shimmer placed a hoof on Sun Spear’s shoulder. “Sunny, please.”
“Don’t call me ‘Sunny’,” Sun Spear brushed off the hoof. “you should not have done that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Sun Spear pushed Shimmer into the wall. “Are you?” Tears beaded around his eyes. “All these years. All these promises that no matter what, we treat the poor, the hungry, the weak with respect. You said we should look after each other, because no-pony else will. But then you went to Sombra…and you came back like one of those snooty nobles.”
“Sunny…”
“No, Shimmer. I can see it. You’ve changed. And now your just like the rest of them. Was all of this a lie? Or are you happy to just drop your old life for the plushy comfort of your new one?”
Shimmer’s jaw wobbled as the words hit him harder than any hammer. “I’m not like them,” he said. His breathing became hard, laboured even. He felt like he had just run a marathon.
“I respected you,” continued Sun Spear. “I thought we were brothers, together against everything. And now I know it was all a lie. I was just something convenient for you. And now you’re going to push me away…and I’ll be alone again.”
Tears streamed down his cheeks and his ears drooped. At that moment, Shimmer saw the foal he had found all those years ago. He closed his eyes. Why could he not breathe properly? His breaths came out as gasps as his lungs bellowed with an unseen urgency.
“Shimmer!” he shouted. Anger in his tone. “Look at me. At least have the decency to do that.”
Shimmer’s legs gave way and he collapsed to the floor and his head struck the floor.
“Damnit Shimmer. Shimmer?”
Shimmer’s eyes closed, just as a bright flash of light burst through the window, lighting the entire drab room up. Sun Spear’s hooves trotted closer and he heard his name called repeatedly over a faint round of cheering.
Shimmer’s eyes rolled back and everything went dark.
--
Flames, fire, burning corpses everywhere: on the houses, in the streets, floating in the ponds. All of them were ponies, dead ponies. Absolutely everywhere. And Shimmer sat in the middle of it all revelling in the sweet smell of death. This was his Kingdom. And he was its king. Nothing would stand in his way.
Shimmer unfurled his wings of leather and lifted himself from his throne of bones. He roared into the sky, spewing flame from his protruding maw. This world was his. He was everything. He was power!
He was the dragon.
--
Jerky rocking pulled Shimmer out of a fitful sleep. He felt the prodding of hooves on his body that held him in place.
Shimmer felt like his entire insides were going to come up and out of his mouth any moment. Some-pony had put a warm towel on his head that did little soak the sweat building underneath.
“Shimmer!” Sun Spear wrapped his hooves around him and brought him into a hug, before dropping him unceremoniously back onto the mat.
“Sunny?” Shimmer’s throat felt raw, like some-pony had rubbed sand into his throat. “Where am I?”
“You are in my care, again.” Blood Loss dropped a bottle straight in Shimmer’s mouth, its foul contents sloshing straight into the back of his throat. Shimmer gagged but the doctor held him down. Satisfied that the bottle was empty, he let Shimmer cough most of it back up. “You’re lucky that that pest refused to leave you alone, otherwise I might have had some fun.” Blood Loss leered at him.
Sun Spear rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I thought I’d stay here to stop you two from smooching.”
Shimmer croaked out a laugh, ravaging his poor, abused throat. Blood Loss just growled.
“How long was I out?” Shimmer asked.
“Two days,” Sun Spear replied.
“Two days?” cried Shimmer. He tried to pull himself up, but Sun Spear pushed him back onto the mat. “Where are we?”
Sun Spear smiled, “About two days’ travel away from Safe Haven.”
Shimmer groaned, “And where would that be, precisely?”
“Lakelands,” replied Blood Loss. “Now get out of my wagon. I’m sick of looking at your faces.”
He threw a bottle at Shimmer, who caught it square in the jaw bone. “Ow.” Shimmer rubbed a hoof on his chin.
“Sip this twice a day. It should take care of the fits.” Blood Loss stepped forwards, pushing Shimmer backwards. Shimmer groaned as his aching muscles protested and he yelped when his rear hoof found nothing but air.
“And don’t come back!” Blood Loss barrelled against him, knocking him into Sun Spear. With a yelp, they both tumbled out and slammed into the rocky earth.
Sun Spear giggled as they rolled to a halt. “What crawled up his arse?”
“Whatever it was, it probably died up there.”
They both laughed as they lay on the warm, caked earth. It was a welcome change. The late autumn monsoons usually left most of New Equestria in a layer of mud. It almost felt alien to feel dust in his fur and the sweet smell of oak on a fire.
After a moment of untangling themselves from each other. Shimmer’s ears drooped. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I did not mean for that to happen. I know how important it is to you that we treat each other with respect.”
Sun Spear snorted. “Oh, that. It’s alright. I’ve seen you do plenty of stupid before.” He gave Shimmer a long hard look, one of fake arrogance. But his gulp and pleading stare broke the illusion. “You…you won’t do it again, right?”
“Of course I won’t,” Shimmer said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “As I said before, I’m not like them.”
Sun Spear nodded. And broke into a warm grin.
That was when one Green Tea poked him in the chest with his spear.
“Hey,” Shimmer said. “What was that for?”
Green Tea gave him a sheepish smile. But his gaze kept darting left and right. “I’m sorry to do this, sir,” he said with a tone of worry that put dread into Shimmer’s heart. “But General Amaranth says you should get your armour and meet at the head of the column.”
“What’s going on?” asked Sun Spear.
“Wildfire in the Lakelands,” Green Tea muttered. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. And I’ve spent a few years on the caravans with Father.”
Shimmer followed what Green Tea was transfixed upon. Long lines of black crisscrossed the scorched earth, surrounding the blackened spindly branches of burnt trees. It stretched on and on below them as the caravans trundled onwards, their drivers visibly relieved.
But Shimmer could not see far enough through a thin fog of ash to determine where he was. Only the perfectly flat grey ground distinguished that they were travelling around one of this area’s many lakes.
And Shimmer realised why the soldiers were so on edge; Not even the wildlife stirred.
“Where’s my armour?” he asked Green Tea.
“The General has it,” he replied.
Shimmer nodded at Sun Spear, “then let’s go.”
Shimmer and Sun Spear sprinted up the column of ponies, their expressions weary, but alert. Caked on mud covered their hoofguards and dirtied their tails.
“There you are.” Amaranth nodded to them and lowered Shimmer’s armour to the ground. “Captain Shimmer Steppe, I am pleased to report that we are a day’s journey away from the swamp. But circumstances have changed.”
“I can see,” muttered Shimmer. He donned his hoof guards and wriggled into his body plate, relaxing as the familiar pressures of the bone material pressed against him. He picked up the staff, twirled it in his hooves and slapped it against his shoulder. He took in a few deep breaths, letting the nerves settle into an annoying weight in his belly. He motioned to her with his head, and they broke from the column and headed towards the ash-covered lake.
Shimmer brushed a hoof into the murky water, watching the froth twirl behind his sweep.
“You weren’t lying, were you?” she asked.
“Nope,” replied Shimmer as he focused all his attention on the water.
“Then…that means…Oh bother.” Shimmer looked up to find a creature that sort of resembled Amaranth. Her fur had taken on a much darker shade, and her sleek, elegant mane took on an inky shine. Her fangs had returned, but that’s not what held his gaze. Her eyes. They were slitted. What?
Shimmer reached for his spear as she flicked a hood over her face and turned away. “Don’t look at me,” she said all calmness gone. “I said don’t look!”
Shimmer retuned his gaze to the water. What in all the Gods’ names had he just seen? She was a monster! And why the hell did he have his back to her?
He spun around, his staff in his maw, but he faltered when he saw the tear track glisten in the grey light.
She sniffed. “It was never my intention,” she muttered, “to look like a monster.” She brought up her slitted gaze to stare into his. “The Nightmare is his obsession. I am just another one of his puppets.”
She stomped over to the lake, and with a bright spark pf her magic, cleared off the layer of ash, revealing the clear water underneath. She stared at herself for an uncomfortably long time.
“But what does it matter?” she said. “Dragons have returned to this world.”
She stared out over the lake, watching as the ash settled back on its surface. Her horn glowed and bit by bit, her otherworldly features fragmented, leaving her mane purple and her body a lighter shade of blue.
Amaranth continued to stare over the lake. “Please tell me everything you know about this dragon.”
“Wait,” Shimmer said, “you still want to do this? Surely we should just flee?”
She chuckled, it sounded dry and humourless. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to. Why have you not run?”
Shimmer paused. Why had he not just run? It’s not like he owed any-pony anything. Hell, every-pony seemed to want him dead anyway.
But he had made a promise to Sun Spear. Shimmer sighed. “Because Sun Spear would never forgive me if I run. He…he cares about the ponies in Eastern District. I can’t let him down.” He grinned. “And when I return, I’ll be hailed as a hero. And even Sombra will kiss my hoof.”
Shimmer found Amaranth giving him that creepy never ending analytical stare, although with her normal round eyes. “Interesting.”
Shimmer frowned. “What now?”
“Oh, nothing.” She returned to look at the sea. “Now tell me more about this dragon.”
--
Shimmer sipped the medicine Blood Loss gave to him. He winced as he forced the vile poison down his throat. Damn that bloody doctor! At least it kept the dizziness at bay.
Most of the soldiers, including the mercenaries, were busy creating fortifications around the circle of three wagons. In the centre, a mighty bonfire crackled and hissed under the light drizzle, it’s dim blue flames suppressed by the unicorn sitting next to it.
But it just about produced enough light for Shimmer to pack his fresh saddlebags and tie a loop in his armour’s harness to hang an oil lantern.
Around him, the remainder of the group prepared for the trek into the swamp. He was surprised to find Blood Loss as part of his group, although he stayed well away.
At most Shimmer had twelve ponies accompanying him. With another nine ponies following in tow and acting as rear guard. No pony had questioned why Amaranth and he had placed all the archers into this support group. But one thing that surprised every-pony was the decision to leave the Pegasi to defend the wagons. Because, let’s face it, what use was a Pegasus against a dragon?
“I hope you know where we’re going,” muttered Sun Spear. Shimmer had tried to get him to stay, but the determined yellow unicorn just insulted him and stated that he would follow anyway.
“Of course I do,” said Shimmer, puffing out his chest. “I know this bog like the back of my hoof.”
“Really?” Sun Spear asked.
“Sure, why not?” Shimmer smiled as Sun spear rolled his eyes.
“Just don’t make a fool of yourself.”
Somehow, Shimmer knew he would find that place again. A thought in the back of his mind whispered that fate would draw him there…that he had always known.
Shimmer’s shack, for that was what it was, was a cozy little place situated in between two run down bricked buildings. He remembered one used to be a bakery before Sombra made Sweet Haven his permanent home. Now this place was little more than a squalid wreck housing too many ponies too poor to afford anything for themselves. Inside, it was just a long narrow room, with reinforced fence posts jammed together to form solid walls and a long piece of waterproof cloth draped over the top. It was not much, but it was Shimmer’s home…and with all the spell enchantments he had bought for the place, he was probably the warmest pony in all of the Eastern District. Being in between buildings also helped. It afforded his place a sense of space, and the added bonus of street drainage meant that he never had to worry about flooding, which was great as he never wanted to be cold, wet, or muddy ever again.
Shimmer sat on his bed –a straw filled mattress on the floor and stared at the contents of his haul. One hundred and fifty Dragon-Marked bits, more than enough to get him into the Western District where the minor nobles lived, sat in a small pile in front of him. But that was just background to the egg shaped crystal sitting on top of the pile. The thing hummed in his ears like an overly curious mosquito, but he knew it was all in his head. It was like his sixth sense knew magic was afoot, but had no idea how to react to it. Something dark and inky danced inside it, beckoning his attention with its hypnotic pulses. He found it in his hooves and he embraced it like he had found his long lost love. It was perfect, it was everything he had desired.
It was his, forever. No-pony else could have it.
A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. He grunted, and returned to the gem. Warmth flared in his belly and a dumb smile fell on his face. He could not believe it was his. He was the luckiest stallion in the world.
Another burst of insistent knocking reverberated through his home. “Shimmer! I know you’re in there. Slice said she saw you return last night.”
“I’m busy, Sunny!” Shimmer retorted.
Sun Spear, the annoying colt-turned stallion, hammered on Shimmer’s door once more. “Let me in you son-of-a-whore.”
“You call me that again and buck your face until you swallow all your teeth.”
“Ooh scary. Come at me you overgrown horsefly. I’ll splat you against this pretty house of yours.”
“I’d rather fight a horsefly. At least I won’t feel guilty when I squish it.”
“Oh, you bastard.”
Shimmer chuckled and crossed the room. He pulled back the beam locking the door shut and pulled the end of a rope. The door swung open, revealing a bedraggled yellow unicorn with an orange mane hanging limp by his side. He had yet to bulk out after his recent growth spurt, so the kid was more legs and neck then muscle.
“Took your sweet time,” muttered Sun Spear as he barged by. He still wore his spear and bow on his back. A faint odour of long dead beast wafted from the soaked through leather that made his armour. Unless one was lucky enough to land a promising contract, most mercenaries lacked money to wear true armour and so settled for dead hide from animals every-pony knew not to question. In Sombra’s world, ignorance truly was bliss. However, the skirt ended abruptly where a less than carting owner had sliced off the protective cloth to leave an exposed hind quarters. He said that it restricted his hind legs in battle, but Shimmer knew that the stallion just wanted to show off his cutie mark. To be fair to him, a golden flaming stone-headed spear was more visually striking than most other mercenary marks, it certainly beat the horseshoe emblazoned buckler.
“How long have you been standing out there?” Shimmer asked.
Sun Spear shook his mane, spraying water into Shimmer’s eyes. “Too long,” he said.
Shimmer guided his friend to a seat –a straw filled sack surrounded by many empty bottles—and placed himself in between his friend and the bed. There was no need for unnecessary questions to be raised. Sun Spear sat and immediately began rooting through the discarded remains to find one last drop of cider. Shimmer huffed and rolled his eyes towards a cupboard. Sun Spear grinned and with his magic, withdrew two fresh ciders from their rotten ex-floorboard sanctuary. “Still stealing, I see.” Shimmer just shrugged.
Both ponies sipped their drinks until the building silence brought with it a sense of awkwardness.
Shimmer grunted, “So what do you want? Come on, get it out of your system.”
Sun Spear’s ears perked and the largest smile, one that spread from cheek to cheek, filled Shimmer’s vision. “You missed the biggest haul yet!” he cried. “I can’t believe you turned it down.”
Shimmer shrugged. “I felt like I needed a change in scenery. Besides, caravan work never pays out.”
Somehow his smile got bigger. “But you don’t know where this caravan was headed.”
Shimmer rolled his eyes. “And where was this amazing place that required two weeks of your time?”
“Canterlot,” the colt-warrior replied. “We went to Royal Equestria!” He immediately downed his drink, threw it with the rest, and pulled another one from the cupboard.
Shimmer tried to act casual and sip his drink, but his jaw would not function. A caravan to Royal Equestria…that was a caravan holding items of national importance. That was a contract mercenaries had killed each other for.
“Seventy bits!” he shrieked. “Seventy. Seven – zero. Holy hell Shimmer, you missed out big time. I’d shed a tear for you, but I’m far too busy counting my coins.”
Shimmer raised an eyebrow, “Seriously?”
He nodded with such vigour Shimmer thought his head would pop off. “And that’s not all.”
He proffered a small red ribbon from a pocket hidden underneath his scarred and wrinkled armour. On it, stitched in with a skilled hoof, was the Black Crystal: the mark of Sombra. This tag meant everything to a Mercenary. Three marks, and they could join the Legions, and get out of the cesspool that was Eastern District.
“You got a commendation?”
“That makes two. You’re no longer better than me. Admit it, Shimmer, even without the marks against your name, I’m getting out of here before you.” He stuck his tongue out.
It was Shimmer’s turn to smile. “Oh, I’m not so sure. Do you know what I have been doing for the past two weeks?” Sun Spear shrugged. “I followed the map I got off old Pony Saw Tooth.”
“You mean that old drunk raving on about the foul magic in that swamp? You actually believed him?”
Shimmer shrugged. “It was worth a try. Besides, as I said earlier, it beat caravan duty.”
Sun Spear leaned forwards, drink forgotten. “And you actually went?”
“Sure did.”
“And…did you find anything?”
Shimmer nodded. He got up off his sack and pointed towards the bed, where the treasure lay. An audible gasp threatened to suck all air out of his magically sealed home.
“Shimmer, you’re not telling me…”
“That I Shimmer Steppe, mercenary of Safe Haven, succeeded where countless academics, heroes and armies have failed. Yes, thanks to that crazy old horse, I found the Lost Lair of the Bottomless Bog.
“So I guess you are still one step behind me, squirt.” Shimmer stuck his tongue out and ruffled the mane of Sun Spear. The yellow unicorn made an odd whinnying noise and pushed his hoof away with his magic.
Sun Spear ruffled through the pile of coins, not even considering the mesmerising stone sat upon it. “Dragon-marked bits…I’ve never seen one before, and here you are with hundreds of them.” Sun Spear looked up, almost bursting into tears. “How…how much?”
“By my thinking,” Shimmer said, “If I can find the right buyer, I could probably get 5 bits per coin…seven hundred and fifty bits.”
“Seven hundred?” Sun Spear’s mouth moved but no more words came out. After a moment, he sank back into his seat. “Seven hundred and fifty…” He looked at Shimmer. “So you’ve finally done it.”
Shimmer nodded as he picked up his beautiful egg shaped crystal.
“Oh…wow, and I thought I was going through a patch of good luck,” Sun Spear muttered.
Shimmer sat, cradling his prize with a cheesy grin on his face. “Is this not the most amazing thing ever?”
Sun Spear laughed. “Ha, good one. Is that some prized stone carved from the temple or just something you pulled off the street?”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’? Shimmer, you dumb oaf, it’s a rock.”
Shimmer stuttered. It’s just a rock? How could he say that? The money would buy him a place outside the slums. But this ‘rock’ was going to get Sombra’s attention and the glory that would follow it.
He stared into the gem, marvelling at the strange material locked within. “I’m going to take this to Sombra and prove to every-pony that I belong in the city.”
“Are you crazy?” Sun Spear reached up and slapped the gem from his hooves.
“No!” Shimmer shoulder checked the young buck, sending him tumbling into the chair. He reached out a hoof, as if time would somehow slow down and he could save it. His heart thundered in his chest, but his muscles froze as the chink of glass slammed into the sackcloth carpet. The gem survived, but the black mist writhed inside like a blizzard within a snow-dome. The sharp click fractured his senses as a clear jagged line formed on the surface.
Shimmer raced over and cradled the gem, rocking back and forth like an insubordinate tot. “What in Sombra’s good graces made you do that?” he screamed. “This is my ticket out of here.”
“Shimmer!” screamed Sun Spear, a hardness came across his features, the face of a pony who had killed once and had no issue with doing it again. “Get your head out of your arse and look at it. It’s a rock. A bloody, ordinary rock. If you presented that to the castle guard, he would hang without a second glance.”
“It’s not a rock!” Shimmer slammed into his friend, this time making sure his friend had nothing soft to fall on. “It’s everything to me. It’s MINE!”
The leather shoulder pad absorbed most of the blow and Sun Spear rolled straight into a ready stance in front of the door. “I don’t know what’s gotten into your head, but Tartarus will take me before I let my only friend in this Gods forsaken hellhole kill himself in a fit of insanity.”
“Step aside,” said Shimmer, all joy removed from his voice, leaving a barely contained rumble. Shimmer flicked his hoof on one of the many floor slats nailed directly to the brick wall of the house next door. His bone-spear, a smooth milky white staff latticed in grey veins. Atop of it, bound in layers of rope glued together to form an almost unbreakable resin, rested a curved blade that sparkled in the torchlight. He let the familiar weight rest against his shoulder.
Sun Spear gulped. “Shimmer…”
“You will not ruin this for me.” Shimmer stood, eyeing down his opponent. Sun Spear visibly shrank, but the moment his posture slackened, the heat flared up in his face.
“Fine!” he shouted, “go kill yourself. See if I care.” Beads of tears formed in his eyes, but he turned and kicked open the door, smashing the lock clean through. Shimmer waited until the orange tail disappeared into the pouring rain and then donned his armour, strapped a fresh torch to his back and the machete to his side. Last to go on was the saddlebag, bulging with his winnings. With a deep breath, he exited his house, stepping over the remains of his door as he did so.
--
The rain soaked his mane almost immediately, and loose strands of red blurred his vision. However, he took one last look at his hovel. It had served him faithfully over the years. Every post and board he hammered together with his own hooves. The cloth roof had cost him a pretty penny, but never had he to deal with a serious leak. He knew every nook and cranny, and had, at one stage, filled it with many pilfered goods.
This place actually felt like home. He actually felt the pangs of loss as he turned away, never to see it again. But he looked upwards, towards the great bonfires lighting the castle as it rose like a phoenix from the ashes of the crowded city. Times had changed, and was finally moving up in the world.
“King Sombra does not have time to speak with sewer rats such as yourself,” the burly guard said. He pointed his spear and poked Shimmer until he took a step back.
“But I have treasure from the Lost Temple,” stammered Shimmer. “I can prove it!” Shimmer pulled forth one of the Dragon-Marked coins. “Look, that’s no regular bit. Now let me in!”
The guard, a silver Pegasus with a scruff goatee rolled his eyes and shrugged to the other one guarding the other side of the gatehouse. A giant portcullis sat in between them, great bars of steel blocking Shimmer’s path to glory.
The other guard, a blue unicorn who wore a grey robe with an overly large hood draped down her back, chuckled. “Sure let the sewer rat in, obviously it speaks the truth.”
“The dragon isn’t even drawn correctly,” said the first guard. “Dragons are fat, stupid looking beasts. Just like you.”
The unicorn snorted and she held up her hoof to her muzzle as if hiding it would not make Shimmer’s blood boil. You moron, Shimmer thought, I’ve seen one. And I can tell you, that is not true.
“Just let me in,” Shimmer growled. He lowered his spear from his back, and dropped into a fighting crouch.
The guards sniggered as the Pegasus readied his own weapon. The Unicorn’s ice blue mane began to rise as static built around her.
“The rat would be wise to scurry back to its hole,” said the guard.
“Stuff you, you bloated pig,” retorted Shimmer.
The second guard burst into shrieking laughter, the static around her dissipating into the wind. “Oh, oh, this is too good.”
The first guard turned to her, his face flush like the setting sun. “Whose side are you on?”
Part of Shimmer want to smash his face in right then and there. If he was fast enough, he could probably gut the unicorn with his spear before she could blow him to pieces. But he refrained, he knew the Unicorn, he had dealt with her in the past.
She sneered at him, “Oh come on, lighten up. The rat obviously wants us to come to some form of arrangement. Is that right? Hmm.”
Shimmer grunted, his gaze not leaving the oversized Pegasus for a second.
“You know the price, Rat,” she said, her tone dropping an octave.
Shimmer growled as he threw one of the rubies he collected from the Lair of the beast. The gem tinkled as it rolled across the stone slabs. A white glow surrounded the stone as the Unicorn gazed at it with a calculating eye.
“I’ve never understood how such precious things could get washed down into the wretched filth,” she murmured. She waved to the pony behind the iron bars. Suddenly, with heaves of effort echoed from somewhere behind the well packed stonework, and the gate squealed into a slow but controlled rise.
“We saw nothing,” she said, still inspecting the gem.
“You’re just gonna let that…that thing through?” asked the Pegasus.
“Quiet little piggy,” she said. “I know this rat, tangled with it before. Its bite is far worse than one my expect.”
He grunted, giving Shimmer the evil eyes. “Don’t think you won,” he whispered, “we’ll settle this later.”
“I’m warning you,” said the Unicorn, “don’t write cheques you can’t cash, otherwise your arse will pay the price.”
“Oh shut it, Glow. You’re not funny.”
Glow winked at Shimmer and waved him through. “Oh, I beg to differ.”
Shimmer nudged the Pegasus out of the way. “Oink, oink, oink,” he said, sticking his tongue out.
The Unicorn snorted then burst into laughter. The Pegasus went beet red over his entire body and Shimmer could have sworn steam was about to come out of his ears.
Canopies, not made of the material quite like Shimmer’s shack, lined the streets on poles, providing critical shelter to the few ponies walking around in the rainstorm. They all avoided him like the plague, which was natural. Who in their right mind would risk getting close to one of those low lifes from over the wall? But Shimmer did not mind, if they stayed away from the armed mercenary, then they weren’t there to bother him. Only the Guard, or the Constabularies as they liked to call themselves on this side –as if a title alone made them somehow greater than the hired thugs from the Eastern district that could probably do a dam sight better job than they—posed any threat to him, but their patrol routes were easy to spot and easier to avoid. Besides, if one quickly got onto the main road that passed through the Southern District, then he easily blended in with the other hired swords. A perk with bone armour was that, from a distance, it looked like steel, and it gave him more of a warriors look.
However, the Southern District was the largest District of all of them. It housed everything related to the art of commerce. Shops this way and that lined the streets, their signs of many colours swinging casually as the rain hammered against them. Even in the centre of the road, Shimmer found himself walking over soggy fliers and blown over A frame advertising boards, the chalk long washed off, leaving a sad, blank face.
It was Shimmer’s favorite district by far. Anything he wanted was game here. He knew all the shadowy corners, the best routes for a quick getaway, and the laziest owners. Wherther it was booze for fun or bread to stave off the hunger, this was his haven.
But he could not go on a jolly today. This was his time to shine, and he practically quivered with excitement. As soon as he presents his majestic gem to the Great King all would be…
Shimmer paused. What if King Sombra wanted it for himself? What if he too was as captivated as Shimmer was? Could he just give it away, even for the good of the realm?
No. There was no way in hell Sombra would take his gift. He had traversed hell to get it. It was his, period.
But Sombra would not care, he had wealth a plenty. That’s right. Sombra would see his endeavours and jump at the chance to place him in his armies…or hire him as his personal guard.
Paladin Shimmer, Servant of the High Lord.
Shimmer smiled. He liked that.
The road widened, and the cobbled stone turned into perfectly laid slabs. His hooves made a satisfying clip clop, as the rain beaded and filtered down the cracks as if it were allergic to the ground.
The gate house he passed under could pass at least three horse drawn carriages side by side. It also shone with the unearthly hue of magical orbs which sent a shiver down his spine. For a moment, he felt like he was back in the pit, crawling around the prehistoric creature.
He passed through at least two raised iron gates, and one shimmering magical barrier that tingled as he passed through. But there it was. Fort Haven, the Seat of Sombra.
It was a marvel of pony technology. A large triangular structure, compromising of three fat towers, separated in height by at least twenty feet. From the tallest, thinnest tower, below the trebuchets poking their wooden heads over the top, hung the heraldic flag of the High Lord: A black crystal on a field of blood.
Soldiers milled about the place. Not the Guard, or the Constabulary, no, these were the best of the best. Every single one stood in a casual posture of readiness, alert to any danger, even in the safest part of New Equestria. Their armour shining black with bright red plumes. Truly, if anything could strike fear into a mercenary’s heart, it would be to fight one of them.
Shimmer would still do it, of course. Even with their menacing look, they were but foals playing with sticks compared to him. The castle itself was never what he expected from a High Ruler. Whereas the upper nobility flaunted their wealth in some fancy peacock display, Sombra’s castle was practical. Everything made sense, from the lack of flammable tapestries, to simple seats alongside function and business rooms. The only thing odd was the confusing, hectic layout with long winding corridors and many stairs, which also made sense. How could one take a castle if one did not know where he was going?
In the end, Shimmer had wandered into the closest thing to a hive he could think of. It was no surprise he had to get a soldier to guide him towards the High Court, who also promptly disarmed him.
“Sombra is seeing no-pony today,” the receptionist lowered her half-moon spectacles and gave Shimmer a proper stare. “Minor issues court is held three until five on a Wednesday morning. Come back then.”
She was old, with her greying mane tied into a bun and a simple grey dress adorned her otherwise shabby pink coat. A broach with a red crystal was pinned on her shoulder.
Shimmer stomped on the table. “I need to see him now, I have important news!”
The receptionist only reaction was to raise her gaze to meet his. “And you can see him on Wednesday, now good day.” Even her voice was monotone. Oh, the infernal creatures from the black pits of Tartarus would be more pleasant to be around.
“You don’t understand. I cannot live another day in the Eastern quarter.”
Her ears perked up. “So you’re a rat, then?”
He nodded.
“And you’ve come to hand in your commendations?”
He shook his head.
Her wrinkled expression slumped. “Then I can’t help you.”
A guard approached from behind. He placed a hoof on his shoulder and pressed just enough to make him freeze without pain. “Ma-am, is this pony bothering you?”
I dropped my shoulder, span and tipped the contents of my saddlebag on my desk. Dragon-Marked bits mixed with gems showered the table.
“Oh my,” said the receptionist as she readjusted her specs.
The guard turned, grabbed Shimmer in a headlock and brought him to the floor in one quick movement. “Right, that’s it, leave.”
“Wait,” said the receptionist, a bit in her hoof. “This…this is real. Guard. Get off of him. Go inform Sombra that there’s a matter he may want to attend to.”
The guard simply nodded and lifted himself up, leaving Shimmer twisted on the ground. He was fast! He’d need to be more aware next time.
Shimmer got to his feet to find the receptionist glaring at him. “Clean my desk and sit down. He’ll be with you soon.” She made no motion to help him up but waited as if he were a diseased animal…well, she probably did think that.
The bits did not travel far, and Shimmer had it back in his ruined bag in a matter of moments. But the sitting still part he found much more difficult. His ears twitched towards any hoof steps and each time somepony passed, his breath caught in his maw. But the ponies passed on by, going through small doors made from a wood with an oddly mesmerising series of flowing veins. In fact, the receptionists table and the bench he sat upon were made from the same wood, but the layers of polish gave them a shine.
His legs ached, and his heart raced. He began pacing around the square room, but his muscles cried out for more. He shook his limbs, ruffling his mane. The receptionist wrinkled her nose. “Could you please sit down?”
Shimmer bared his teeth for just a moment and leant against the wall. He would not be told what to do. Soon, she would be taking his orders. But his reassurance did not quell the butterflies in his stomach. He had never met Sombra before, but he had seen him and heard the stories.
This pony was a warrior of legend. The stories said that his magic was so powerful that he could see through time, allowing him to anticipate anything. Others pictured him as a ruthless tactician, playing the games of war like no other pony could. And Shimmer believed most of it; after all, it was Sombra who managed to outwit the Royal Sisters thirty years ago to tear through their land.
Shimmer could not understand why his hooves wanted to shake so. He began pacing once more.
“Sit down!” cried the receptionist.
And, for the next agonisingly slow hours. Shimmer ended up between two black plated guards, their presence alone enough to keep him still.
--
The two guards heaved on the doors forged from the many furnaces of Safe Haven. The great, spiked barriers opened to reveal the High Court. The room was much smaller than he anticipated, but the great iron chandelier and the tapestries of the Black Crystal hid a ceiling so high, Shimmer felt lightheaded just looking up. An apathetic shove pushed Shimmer forwards and into the awaiting eyes of his onlookers.
Too his either side, behind the plush red carpet that made his path, two pews supported the rears of only a few, wealthy nobles, their eyes going from wide to mere slits. Shimmer smiled at one who almost backpedalled into the pew behind. He chuckled. If the citizens of Western and Southern Districts hated him, then the Nobles of the Northern District downright feared him. To them, he was nothing more than a threat: a leech that wants to grow fat off their wealth. Of course, Shimmer had tried to steal from their estates, and it amazed him that one could have estates in a city so crammed, but their paranoia was great and lethal, and their hired swords weren’t as stupid.
But he would get them one day. That, he swore.
But he could not log the various rings, necklaces and other jewellery upon the now blushing unicorn as she sat back in her spot, patting down her lilac and plum dress. As he approached, he saw his Majesty.
Shimmer’s neck went stiff as he forced his chin up, but that did not stop a shiver running down his spine. His Lord, the Mighty Ruler of New Equestria sat on a throne made out carved stone, the pictures of fury and bloodshed carved into the hoof rests. He slouched into his chair, head resting on his hoof as his eyes gazed upon him.
And suddenly, Sombra sparked into life like the roaring flame from the Dragon’s mouth with just a shift in his posture. A purple mist oozed from his green eyes like impossibly long eye lashes, and Shimmer felt the room grow cold. His sixth sense raged like the bites of a million ants on his spine and he struggled to keep his composure as he fell into a sweeping bow.
An armoured hoof struck Shimmer on the shoulder and drove him to the floor. “Only a citizen of standing can bow before our King.” The voice almost ruptured his ear drum as the largest Earth Pony spat in his face. A murmur echoed around the room. “Maggots will grovel before his hooves.”
“General,” the hall fell silent as Sombra lifted himself up and off the pillowless stone seat. He descended the few stairs that raised him above all others.
Shimmer kept low, the hoof on top of him ample motivation to do so. But as Shimmer prepared to roll and throw the brute over him, Sombra cupped his hoof around Shimmers chin and forced him to look up.
Sombra continued to pull until Shimmer stood on all fours once more. The large Earth Pony stepped back, his scarred face a scowl underneath a greasy purple mane tied back. However, Shimmer could see his own reflection in the Pony’s oversized pauldrons. A small red and black banner hung from a standard tied to the rest of his plate. Sombra circled Shimmer, as if inspecting a new toy.
“The rats are scrawny, nowadays,” he muttered. But it must have carried if the nervous laugh at the back of the hall indicated. “They must be getting desperate. Perhaps it is time to let them feed?”
Shimmer gulped and opened his mouth. “My na…”
The blow came before he could even perceive it. Sombra’s hoof cracked against his jaw, the cold steel of his hoof-guard splitting the skin, splattering blood on the flagstone. Pain flared as Shimmer slid into the wall and he resisted to cry out I shock.
Sombra pressed a hoof into Shimmer’s neck. “One more utterance from those lips and I will execute you…slowly.” He stepped back. “Get up.”
Shimmer wobbled onto his hooves, and raised his chin. He would not cower before his King. He was stronger than the rest and he would prove it. Shimmer imagined himself in the royal red cloak, his body surrounded by the strongest steel known to pony kind. His posture straightened as he rubbed off the blood dripping his cheek.
“A buckler with hoof prints on it,” said a blue hooded figure standing next to the throne. A red crystal broach shone from his shoulder. “That one is known as Shimmer Steppe. He was not hard to find in the records. Two commendations, two black marks.”
“And the black marks were for?” asked Sombra.
“A string of burglaries, more than eighty-total, have been tied to this one over the last decade. Mainly in the Southern district. He escaped execution, and I quote ‘because the execution order went missing’.”
The room was deathly silent, and Shimmer feared that it would give his silent sniggering away. Of course, technically, it was Sun Spear who stole the document and in the commotion, freed him. But he was sure Sun Spear would not mind losing some glory to live this tale.
“The second mark was for his attempt to burgle Top Hat’s estate, Sire.”
Sombra nodded his thanks and the blue robed pony retreated into the shadows, where the line of important looking military figures watched with mixed interest. Shimmer wilted under the intense gaze of his King.
“It seems you have been busy subverting the law,” he said, “and that, dear Rat, upsets me.” He leaned in, “I want to kill you. I want the Eastern District to watch as your lifeless body thrashes from the rope, not knowing its dead. Tell me why a criminal like you would dare sully my Temple of Order and Law?”
Shimmer made no sound. He dragged his broken saddlebag off his back, and let the contents spill in front of Sombra’s hooves.
The King spied the Dragon-Marked bits before their metallic chinks ceased echoing around the hall. A black aura surrounded one such coin, and he inspected it. Shimmer dared to glance down and, amongst the other gems and coins, gazed longingly at the egg-shaped gem with the swirly black mist trapped within.
The blue robed pony stepped up once more, and his horn lit silver. After a moment, Shimmer felt like he was drowning in the building tension. The robed pony hmmed and ahhed to the point I saw Sombra’s ear twitch.
“Well?” he asked with a trace of the anger that had been directed at Shimmer.
The blue robed pony gulped. “Although I do not know enough about Dragon-marked bits to confirm his story, I, however, know enough that I cannot condemn it either. This is not stolen. I am sure this design is unique in our collection. And the quality of the engravings is constant among the lot, so I don’t think it’s counterfeited. Twin that with the riches this urchin has…I think he’s found something.”
“Where did you get this?” asked Sombra.
Shimmer opened his mouth, but his throat felt as dry as the savannas of his childhood home. Instead of his smooth voice, it came out stuttered and croaky. “Bottomless Bog. It came from there.”
“And why?” asked the King. “Why bring this to me?”
Shimmer took in a deep breath and tried to ignore the eye-mist. “Firstly, I want my marks stricken from the record. Secondly, I want citizenship. Thirdly, I want to be able to prove to you that I am a powerful asset to your military.”
“So you seek to exploit the Glory Incentive.” Sombra put a hoof to his chin and turned towards the line of ponies standing behind the throne. Shimmer leaned forwards and scooped his gem between his legs.
“And why should I allow this law to protect you when you have shown complete disregard for it? Why should I let you live when all you have given me is a promise of a fortune?”
Sombra noted the precious stone hiding between his legs. A dark aura began to glow around the gem. The gem lifted and floated towards Sombra “And why should I let you try to hide something from…”
“No!” screamed Shimmer as leapt and smothered the gem with his bulk. He landed hard on the flagstone…gem first. Suddenly, an ear piercing shriek pierced straight through his mind, followed by lance of pure agony. Something warm and sticky splat against his skin, and began to burn. His body writhed as what felt like fire assaulted his belly and legs. He was aware of shapes around him, holding him down…but their voices were lost in the cataclysm of the shriek. Tears fell from his eyes like streams as his lungs choked on ash. He gagged on air that burnt the insides of his throat. And in that one moment, he wished for it all to end.
Shimmer gasped and sucked in air as if he had arisen from the depth of an ocean. The agony left him in a heartbeat, leaving him suddenly exhausted. The burly bulk of the Earth Pony Guard was upon him once more, pinning him to the ground on his back. The bone armour did somewhat to hold off the weight, but he could feel it flexing and digging into his flesh.
“What?” Shimmer mumbled, “What happened to my gem? Where is it?”
“I will break you, you dirty gutter rat,” said the Earth Pony.
“Get off him,” came the voice of Sombra.
“But sir,” he responded. “This is all a farce. We should just kill this rat and put it out of its misery.”
“General Tundra,” the voice held the low rumble of complete authority, “that’s an order.”
The General roared and smashed the stone mere inches from Shimmer’s head. Shimmer’s eyes widened; The stone cracked! Shimmer gritted his teeth as Sombra’s magic pulled him to his hooves via his mane. Around the king, every Unicorn he could see shook like a newborn foal amongst a pack of Timberwolves.
“I have not felt the sting of dragon magic in a long while,” said Sombra his tone almost conversational. “That takes me back.”
“Your Highness…what just happened?” asked another, slimmer armoured Pony that had been observing from the side lines. The quality of her shining black protection mixed with the sabre strapped to her side marked her as another General.
Sombra grunted. He looked around as if he had only just realised that all eyes were on him. He pointed at Shimmer, “This pony has found an ancient dragon artefact, a thing that was used up by our last war with the Royal Equestrian menace. This confirms it for me. He has found a Dragon Nest.”
“I hereby proclaim that” he face turned into a disgusted scowl, “Shimmer Steppe, is officially pardoned and granted access to citizenship.
“On three conditions.”
He released an unpleasant smile, allowing Shimmer to see the full glory of fangs residing in his maw. “One, you atone for your past crimes through public punishment. Two, you submit yourself voluntary Military support for the rest of your life. And Three, you lead an expedition to the Temple you found.”
Shimmer fell to his rump, his hooves scraping through the dust that used to be his gem. It was gone. Everything was gone. What could he do?
“Well,” shouted General Tundra, “Answer him!”
Those terms were awful. To lead an expedition into the gaping maw of a real-life dragon…on no pay. It was beyond ridiculous. But at that moment, he just did not care. Sombra could go to hell for all he cared.
But this was better than what he had, right? For the first time, he would be recognised as a full-fledged citizen to go about and do as he pleased. No more would the term ‘rat’ follow him like flies to a rotting carcass.
Sombra cleared his throat. “I see you need a little more…convincing. Let me put it this way. I am considering forming a new legion, one thousand ponies, consisting entirely of your ilk. Prove to me that your kind can uphold the tenets of order and justice and return to me with the riches of the temple, and the Eastern District will no longer suffer from extreme poverty.”
Magic wrapped around Shimmer’s muzzle and held him still as Sombra leaned in close, baring his fangs. “Fail me, and I will enjoy cleansing this city of their filth.”
Shimmer gulped. What could he do? Could he risk the ire of the king and tell him of the beast that dwelt there? Could he tell him that those riches were beyond any-pony’s hooves to take? Shimmer saw the controlled fury burning within Sombra, and knew that rage would stretch far and wide. He could not escape. He could not run. He could not hide. Sombra would find him and he would die.
No, there was no option. There never had been. Shimmer was just another puppet dancing before his master, hoping for one last jig before his strings were cut.
“So what will it be?” said the King.
In the end, he knew that this was what he came for. But this was not how he imagined it.
Shimmer let out a long held breath. “I accept your conditions.”
