(0) - Respite for the Accursed
Standing amid the expansive, grass field, atop a rounded hill, Latch watched and waited, scanning for movement above and below the tall blades of grass. She'd been forced to do this in several other instances, now erring on the side of caution of waist-high cover. She'd learned her lesson in not keeping an eye or ear out after a hollowed royal guard had shuffled its way to her long. It'd got a single strike in. Nicked her pretty good too, leaving a scar beneath the underside of her right arm.
With those who'd still retained their sanity such as herself, they'd become mere beacons for the hollowed to chase and seek out. They were led by their insatiable hunger for what lingered in the bodies of those who lived. It was a blind desire; souls were what was they sought by instinct, hoping it'd bring them back from the darkest depths of the curse they'd all been plighted with.
Releasing her hand from the grip of her blade, Latch sighed, deflating and softening from her perch above the field. Although it was but a simple obstacle to traverse, the thick mesh of bark and flora lying in wait on the other side of a hill slightly smaller than her own, patience was a virtue in this desperate and trying times. Taking one careful step after another, she'd descended down the soft incline of the hill, finding the waist-high grass to greet her with its modest cover.
The evening sun as well was starting to descend beyond the rise of the second hill. Casting a dull ray of colors from red to violet, much of its radiance remained the same as it did hundreds of years ago. Its warmth, something everypony was familiar with, was fading. Nobody humored the thought out of fear and ignorance, but soon enough the world was to be bathed in an endless night, marking the end of this horrendous era. Some welcomed it, some did not. She was among the few who were undecided.
Blowing out a soft huff, finding her body to be protesting against her after another long day of walking, she'd climbed to the top of this second hill, finding the grass to reach well onto the other side up to the forest. A brief gust of wind rustled the grass of which she began observing, scanning it as she'd done moments ago. The superstitious of ages past would've thought that wisps or some manner of spirits lurked within the field she was fixed upon, but beneath the evening sky, it was easier to distinguish what the pale white glows were within the grass. Beyond such, near the very entrance of the wood, she spied a large set of ruins.
Holding her blade's handle even tighter, wrapping her hand within its guard, she descended down the hillside. Slow and cautious, she craned her head slowly from her left, then to her right, scanning and listening for something anything in the grass the lay in wait for her. The long blades crunched, rustled, and snapped beneath her steps as she waded towards one of the many glows that were along her path.
Pausing, Latch stood before one of the many glows that made up the field. Her expression bemused, the tall blades of grass were flattened, falling to grow around and through the faded violet armor of a long-since hollowed Lunar Guard. Its occupant remained trapped within the armor; a helmet far too big to hold what pitiful skin and bone were left. Sunken pits of darkness remained in place of its eyes, as did rotted teeth and facial features. Nothing was distinguishable about this pony any longer.
Poor bastard...
Kneeling down against the soil, she reached out, cradling the small ball of light within the palms of her hands. The small, fading soul responded in kind of brightening between her hands, reacting to the strong and bountiful soul it was in the presence of. Pulling it in close, she hugged it against her chest, pressing it between her bosom. She felt a distant sadness and longing within it, one that was of a life wasted and a love lost. As the memories flashed within her mind's eye with a blur, the soul had shattered, snaking out between her fingers and sinking into her very being - becoming one with her very own soul.
Standing back up, she scanned the field once more, finding the air to be growing colder and her breath becoming more visible as the sun continued to crawl beyond the horizon. Spying the many other faded souls all across the field once more, their soft, ambient light gave an ironic sense of life to the field. Walking and wading between the cluster of broken weapons, faded souls, shields, and bodies, she'd begun her approach to the ruins ahead.
A warmth emanated from beyond the ruined stone walls, a familiar and quaint one. With it, an equally familiar glow bled onto one of the few, tall pillars of stone that remained of the former structure that was once here. Slowing her pace, Latch felt the warmth provide a sense of comfort and renewal as she neared it. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she eagerly approached.
Dragging her fingers across the rough, mossy, and cracked stone, she felt herself becoming at ease as the orange glow crept around the corner ahead. Emerging into a barely grown over clearing, she sighed, spying the object of her comfort in the very center. Her pace slowing, she felt relieved as she approached the familiar fire beneath the coiled sword. Pulling her rapier and dagger free from her waist and sheath, she gently set her armaments onto the ground beside her as she sat herself down near a thin slab of cracked marble.
Perhaps here, she could rest for a spell, if maybe for just a single night...
Author's Note
Fading Soul
Once upon a time, brave knights and warriors made up the Equestria we now know. These knights and warriors had souls as strong as their hearts. This... fragment, is all of what's left of one such pony.
Crackling met her ears as the bonfire tossed embers up into the open air. It’d been so long since Equestria had this happen to it, of dark magic befalling it and rooting deep within the continent. How or when it exactly happened, she could no longer recall. Since that day, days, weeks, months, and years had blended together almost seamlessly.
If one were to hazard such a guess, no one could say otherwise if the fragile flow of time had been damaged. No one could agree, nor disagree. Sometimes, it’d be stable for years for some, even centuries… and for others, decades would pass in the blink of an eye.
Lying upon her side, using her arm as a pillow beneath her head, Latch stared into the dull embers at the base of the bonfire. Flicking and occasionally brightening, she sighed tiredly. She knew not of how these objects had sprung up, but she knew and could feel the sun’s warmth and comfort emanating from it eternal.
Countless more, much like this one, were scattered across the land. From settlements to the middle of nowhere, they were everywhere. It was the closest anyone had ever gotten these days to feeling the sun’s old radiance and warmth once more. Rumors and hearsay, however, spoke that these very… places of rest held a fraction of the power known only to Celestia.
Nothing could be confirmed of such, however. For it was just that: a rumor.
In spite of the rumors and hearsay about these bonfires, everyone knew of their purpose. They mended the wounds of those who were weary, they revitalized those who were near the brink of death, and most importantly: they gave comfort and reprieve to those who were branded. She was no exception. Those who were cursed, forever to live and die eternal like she, always spared the moment to rest at these places in particular.
Shaking her head, ruffling a bit of dirt from her mane as she lay against the soil, Latch rolled her back to the fire. Opting to stare unto the moon and stars above, she felt a sense of security as she stared upon it. The brilliance of the moon was the only thing that hadn’t waned, somehow keeping its power and light that would blanket the land. She, and everypony that still walked this country found the presence to be protective and calming. Some even thought that Princess Luna herself was still watching out for them...
With a sigh, Latch rolled onto her back, rattling the pauldron of her left shoulder. History, past, memories, and herself... it was getting harder to remember most of the prior knowledge given how much she'd been felled and faded. The curse was getting stronger within her, this much she knew, and she felt it.
It was... a darkness and a fire stirring within herself, all-consuming and nigh insatiable. Whenever she'd been killed, she felt the fire and darkness grow, consuming more of her very being and memories.
Frightening would be how she and countless others described it. So long as you fought, so long as you had a goal in mind, and so long as your resolve was unshakable, you were capable of keeping the darkened flames at bay. So many... so many since the very beginning had fallen to that curse - consumed and left empty. She'd seen former friends and allies become nothing more than mindless ponies, possessing a hunger that was insatiable for and souls.
Collecting her thoughts, she realized her mind had wandered immensely, enough so to wander in tangents relating to how she felt and what she could still remember. At least, it'd reminded her that she still was of sound mind and body, far from becoming an empty, hollow pony. With what she did still remember, however... other memories had been lost, to both time, and her curse.
"Talvi..." She mumbled beneath her breath. Her face, she could no longer remember. Her voice, she could no longer hear. Her eyes, she'd long forgotten... but she remembered the value of the name. "I'll be coming for you soon."
A shade of orange and red had started to replace the darkness that she'd seen. With a groan, Latch rolled over on the soil, towards the warmth that kept to her left side the entire night. However, the light seemed to be going nowhere, only intensifying as it neared a yellow-white hue from the former darkness. With another groan, Latch made an effort in forcing her eyes open, yawning as she felt she was still a few hours away from a proper night's rest.
Sitting up near the bonfire, rubbing her eyes, she cracked them open one by one as she wiped away the gunk. Taking stock of her surroundings, finding nothing to be out of the ordinary within the dilapidated ruins she slept among, she reached over to her equipment in front of the fire. Taking her parrying dagger and rapier in hand, attaching the latter to her waist, and sheathing the former in a pocket along her thigh, she stood up.
Although she felt invigorated in sleeping by the fire, her body still required a bit more rest than what she'd already had. There was little time to rest however, with the sun refusing to let up its shine. Rest would come later... this was the start of what she guessed was to be a very long day.
Looking towards her west, opposite of the rising sun and towards the forest, she reached a hand back for the handle of her rapier, gripping it tightly. With a single step from the weathered soil and onto the beaten path, she knew that this part of the journey was going to be a treacherous one. With steady, rhythmic steps, she made her way into the forest.
Hours had then passed since her entry. For some time now, she'd waded her way through the thicket of the flora. It'd almost formed an entire barricade of vines, twisting tree trunks, and thorns. She'd heard many tales about this place since the beginning of shadow, of ponies going in and never returning.
Some as well, spoke of strange magics that both tainted and enchanted the woods. Few however, were ever capable of vouching for such rumors. Those who had made it out likely kept the secrets of these woods with them after they'd gone beyond the point of being hollow.
With a grunt of exertion, Latch hacked away a thick set of vines that blocked her path with her rapier before sheathing it. With a sigh, she wiped a bit of sweat off her brow as she climbed through the opening she'd cut. One thing was for sure, with what the sun being at its highest point, she could see that one fact proved true for this place: the Everfree Forest was unnaturally twisted. It gave a feeling and sense that it didn't want anypony treading within. This however, would prove no deterrent for her. She had to make her way through, past the forest's heart.
Huffing, she sheathed her blade as she came to another felled tree in her path, one that flattened the thorny bushes underneath. Grabbing onto one of the many branches that still remained intact on her side of the tree, she pulled herself up it, crawling a good five feet of length of branches and trunk before she stood atop the wood.
With a pause of action and thought, Latch stared down at the path ahead... or, where it would be, if it had continued. Ahead, of where the path seemed to suddenly seemed to disappear, lost beyond the knee-high grass and strange flowers. The woods however, seemed to lack most of the density she'd just traversed.
Bunched up, but thicker of treetops, she felt a looming sense of danger hang in the pit of her gut as she looked through the gaps of the brush and flora ahead. Something about the way the light seemed to fade the further she tried to look made her uneasy. As well, what looked like etched faces of pain upon tree bark, hollowed out and whistling faintly her way, bothered her. She hoped that it was purely for the creep factor and nothing more.
This place was far from welcoming, but she'd waited centuries for this, she wouldn't let a mere trick of the light or her eyes stunt her progress. Hopping off the log, grunting as she landed, she steeled herself with several deep breaths. Carefully, she reached for her rapier as plodded towards the very end of the path. The feeling in her gut strengthened as she came near.
As she stepped off the beaten path and onto the grass beyond it, she breathed a light sigh as... nothing happened. The feeling lingered, keeping her wary, but as far as she could see, behind, ahead, and all around her, she was safe. Wrapping her hand around the handle of her rapier, she kept her grip loose, still capable however of withdrawing her blade on a moment's notice. With a quiet huff, Latch slowed her pace as she walked through the grass, scanning her surroundings as she walked past the first of the many... unnerving trees.
Balling her right hand into a fist, she kept herself from tracing her fingers against the gnarled and twisted bark. Perhaps a little too wary, but she couldn't take any chances if something was indeed done to it. Casting a glance over to one such, she saw the look of a panicked stallion, face frozen in fear and caught in the wood. It was creepy, to say the least.
Shaking her head, trying to rid the image from her mind, as well as the mental image of how they got such a fate - if they even had - she averted her eyes to the path ahead. Keeping to the path she'd begun forging for herself, looking to where she'd need to step, she walked over and around various plant life that looked to be unfamiliar, as well as various roots and vines that were scattered about the earth. Venturing deeper, with time and patience, she'd weaved and maneuvered her way forward, sticking to a singular, general direction to head: West.
Deeper into the Everfree was where her intentions would take her, in addition to her goal. Stumbling over a root, catching part of her foot within it, Latch nearly fell flat on her face as she caught herself against one of the many trees around her. Thankfully, this one lacked any manner of creepy and frozen expression. Muttering a few curses beneath her breath, she kicked her boot against the grass towards the root she nearly tripped on.
Snorting, she pushed herself away from the tree. Wading in through several shrubs that reached above her waist, she winced as she felt a few jabs of a branch or thorn to her clothing. Save for all the deterrents that seemed to rely on inconvenience and fear, all was well... however, she couldn't help but to think something was amiss with how dark it was becoming. Stumbling out of the bush, kicking a bit of leaves off that clung to her boots, she huffed.
Humming, pausing in her path, a thought crossed her mind, one that was worth investigating about this darkness. Looking up, Latch peered through the breaks in the treetops, gawking then as she saw the reason for the absence of sunlight. Overhead, where the sun once sat was no longer the bright, fiery, celestial body. In its place, the moon sat high above, illuminating what it could of the forest through the canopy and clearings.
"Wasn't it noon not long ago...?" She asked to no one in particular. She knew it had been noon mere moments ago as she stood atop the downed tree, but she knew not of if the flow of time fractured once more.
Around her, she heard several shuffling amidst the brush. Her ears and head snapping to attention, she instinctively withdrew her rapier and dagger from their respective sheaths. Keeping the parrying dagger close and her rapier pointed outward, she breathed deeply, in and out as she kept her posture straight but relaxed. Scanning the area around her, the moonlight failing to identify the source, she slowly rotated herself around following the noise. She felt the tension building in her legs and body, ready to spring and react within seconds.
Then, she'd heard it - that screech of an hollow that'd spotted her. Pinning her ears to her skull from the piercing cry, Latch winced as it made her shudder. She hated these particular undead... so much.
Following the source of the noise, she shifted her body around, looking some ways around her. Both the shadows and trees worked against her, hiding the figure. Within the shadows however, a distinctive, emaciated shape started to show. Eyes sunken in, mere dark pits in their place, the dark blue sheen and the fuzzy tips of the ears that flashed beneath the moonlight made it clear of what they were.
Drawing her rapier back, angling it towards the ground, she let out a long exhale as her fingers danced along the grip of her dagger. Out from where she'd faced, the hollow began to rush her, its leathery and hole-filled wings flapping feverishly through the wind. With its sword behind its head, held by both hands, she waited... seeing the emaciated, rotted form of the pony come closer and closer. As they were but a feet above and in front of her, she raised her dagger.
Catching the blade between her own and the hand guard, she directed the blade past her head pushing it far to her left as it nicked the very tip of her pauldron. With a sleight of hand and a cry of exertion, she brought her rapier up, shoving the end through a chink between their breastplate and greaves. Carrying the momentum past herself, another ear-piercing cry met her ears, one of pain and agony.
Pulling her blade out as the hollow fell beside her with a clatter and thud, she shook her hand that held the parrying dagger, loosening it. Watching on, she approached the writhing bat pony on the soil. It was saddening for her to see ponies have this fate befell them, acting like mere animals of prey with all semblance of what they were, gone. Sheathing her dagger on her thigh, Latch breathed out a sigh as she pressed her boot down on the lunar guard's breast plate.
Looking into the sunken pits of its eyes, she saw no amount of emotion or rationality left within it. Feeling its hands around her leg, hitting and pulling at her limb, the undead struggled to escape. Keeping her weight firm, she positioned her rapier beside her, aiming her blade's point towards the open, front part of its helm. With a grunt, she plunged the blade, piercing flesh, metal, and soil as the blade sunk a good two feet in.
She both felt and heard her blade grind against bone, flesh, and metal as she withdrew it from the undead. With a final cry, one that howled into the night, the hollow beneath her faded away into dust and souls. Stepping back, Latch flicked off a bit of the blood from her blade as the nearby souls collided into her being.
Barely acknowledging the sensation, a brief flash of memories came with the souls, muddled and murky. Souls were what empowered many undead like she to continue. It was a never ending thirst, for both hollow and sane alike. Without even the slightest amount, a hunger would grow from within themselves... one that would eventually drive them mad.
About to sheathe her rapier, Latch’s head and ears shot to attention as she heard a branch snap from somewhere along her right. Whirling on her feet, keeping her blade at the ready, she pointed it in the direction of the sound. Beyond a tree, she saw a figure approach, ears poking out from a cloak that hid its features. It was slow and cautious, as though examining her.
“Like a moth to a flame, your soul was to blame,” the figure said, measured, deep, and feminine in tone. Stepping into the small break in the trees, the pony-looking character raised her head, looking to Latch. An aged, contemplative expression of cyan eyes and striped, white and black fur met hers.
“More will be on their way, lest you choose to make your stay,” she spoke with a rhyme once more. Her words hung between them, telling of an ominous fate that was soon to follow.
“Who are you?” Latch asked, looking at little on edge of this strange zebra. Differentiating from friend or foe was ever a challenge out in the now uncivilized lands of Equestria. The intentions of others were always shrouded in lies and secrecy until it was discovered, or revealed.
“Zecora,” she said simply. Scanning the area, the zebra took several steps closer to Latch. She brandished no weapons nor catalysts, but spoke with urgency. “They were drawn by your fire, to which they’ve already given you their ire. Come, we must leave soon, otherwise this place will spell your doom…”
Raising her head, drawn to the sound of howls and ear-piercing cries in the distance, Latch heard their animal-like cries near. They were drawn to the death of their kin. Looking back down, Latch spied the mare already having turned tail, standing patiently with her head turned back to look at her.
They gauged one another, caution meeting confidence and a strong fire. Latch however, knew better in spite of her confidence. She couldn’t fight what was to come.
Sheathing her blade back along her waist, Latch jogged over and after the zebra who smiled as she approached. Keeping an even pace with her, the two made haste into the night and shroud, weaving between the fauna and brush as they ventured deeper into the woods.
Author's Note
Something new, something different yet familiar... styles change, and I'm far from sure if I did a good job.
- Latch
