Purple Advent

"Hush, my child" her ladyship lulled, fixed on the naive gaze of her daughter. A soft embrace followed, conjointed by her loving husband in a brief juncture that managed to conceal the ambiance of inevitability. Below the mortices of the helms and reddened bandages, quiet weeps and sighs were heard, emanating both from self-pity, impotence and sorrow; ere fate took its daunting move.

The grip tightened, following the example of its constituents brows. Thereof such signs any sensible individual could peruse their inner perils with ease, the outrage against the unanticipated. 'Twas rapid, an onset with the apparition of obscure crystals, succeeded by migraine and derangement amongst the folk; dismal and light-leeching fog percolating through the metropolis, concealing from plain sight the havok that was currently running through the streets. From the staircase that led towards the entrance, the royal couple witnessed in sheer helplessness the Crystal Heart's pedestal lacking its centerpiece; the eerie mist continuing its ill procession thereafter, prompting those left unscathed by madness to escape into the deeps of the palace, the last bastion of the crumbling Crystal Empire. Ghastly minutes of redundant battle within the halls followed, protagonized by the corrupted guards and those who still stood beside their lieges, finally concluding once the royal chambers were secured. An instant was all it took for the proud nation to flip over, they were king and queen of naught, including their fate.

A bloodcurdling snigger rang through the halls; gelid mist from dark arts crawling as a furtive shadow, languidly erupting through gaps and slots within the room in augur of their master. The loyal remnants ceased their muffled mourning and stood guard, for that was the only way they knew, and directed their sight upon their liege, whose humid eyes yet radiated grudge and determination. His hooves unshackled mare and foal; aware that a final effort had to be undertaken. Both parents kissed their beloved treasure's forehead and hesitantly placing it inside a bag carried by their last resort, one of their lost serf's son, a colt named Mund selected due to his grandiose valour, in lieu of strenght, which was proven in the consecutive clashes that had transpired within the palace, scouting for the troop to avert the dangers that awaited ahead.

The youngling's eyes darted towards the only way to escape, an aperture belonging to the thermal system of the structure, through which hot air would be transported from the the royal forges located within the underground caverns. The Queen stepped towards him and took hold of his hoof with pleading purple eyes. "Thou shalt be our champion. We beg of thee, keepest her in safety. Please." the mare requested, her voice slightly breaking at the end. The solemn King asserted to her words in silence, lids clenched to contain the spark of watery eyes.

Puny...

To the group's dismay, another guffaw from the dry voice was heard, on this opportunity right behind the entrance. The raspy voice's murmur was barely audible, yet as ubiquitous wind it reached every pair of ears in the clearest manner possible. The remnants of the guard, as well as the king himself rushed towards the set of doors, blockading it with whatever their battered bodies could haul. Amidst the confussion, the weeping queen shoved the colt into the conduit, which fortunately did not show any signs of elevated temperatures, and concealed it with a nightstand. As he dragged the bag along the first meters, the scarring and slowly dimming cacophony of sobs, grunts and slams pursued him until there was nothing left but his and the infant's breathing. The crystalline walls that compressed them became opaque and obscure, forcing the duo to face their escape in utter, implacable darkness.

Several perilous minutes had passed. Neither the fact of the angles at which the ducts entwined nor the distressing shortage of air were foreseen by the young one, conducting to bruises, agitation and sluggish descents through what seemed to be bottomless pits. Every inch forward was a challenge against fortune, and another prayer to the stars for the filly to remain dormant in such harsh circumstances. He failed to notice another vertical gap, and as his he fell his hooves took hold of the princess. Fortuitously, his fall ended almost immediately in a cushion of consumed ember and soot. His back was sore, most certainly injured, but to his relief tolerable to continue. The infant, to his utter bewilderment, seemed to be enveloped in the deepest of slumbers, and his wretched soul couldn't be more elated about it. His felicity only magnified when he realized their current location. The forge had been reached.

Mund straightened up, scrutinizing his gloomy surroundings. Notwithstanding of the obscurity enclosing his sight, the presence of the unlit heart and depleted cooling tank were sufficient evidence to surmise that they had reached the intended location. Sparing of taking risks, he snuck with utmost care, recalling the vacant stare of those whose volition was perverted. Such visions made him aware of the absense of the blacksmith, whose preternatural faculty on the arts of steel, invention and confection of jewelry was demonstrated as he encountered dozens of artifacts of extraordinary quality scattered along the floor.

As he crawled in direction to the door, he stiffened at a sudden jab on the chest. After reaching for the offending object, he found a piece of cloth covering it entirely, possibly to avert damage. Occult within the wraps was an odd contraption simile to an elaborated bracer, albeit connected to a pair of exceedingly sharpened blades of whom the longest would be positioned on the upper front, surpassing the lenght of the foreleg guard itself as it ran down, and the other located on the side with a similar placement but showcasing a pronounced curve. Abruptly, what he could only surmise to be cracking thundered outside the room, withdrawing from his analysis on the process. Apprehending the dire aspect of the situation, and exerting warranted prudence, he took the weapon in case of necessity, ensured that the princess was secured on his back, and headed towards the exit.

At the proximity, the dazzling brilliance of daylight entinced his expectations and aggrieved his sore eyes. Its unveiling nature highlighted the scene's layout, revealing that the blacksmith's workshop lied conveniently within meters of the mine's entrance. "W-what?" His fur brizzled as he noticed the presence of sanguine splatters and teeth, over which he had to walk to reach the threshold. A gelid breeze brushed his furry frame, an unpleasant sensation that until that point on time was unbeknown to him. Raging before him, ravaging were the winds and snow of a blizzard whose unprecedented potency promised to entomb the very foundations of the former civilization. Any feasible chance of escape was callously thwarted, and naught but contemplating the end times and scheming how to endure them was a possibility.

He turned and once again took the precious burden into the structure. The pink creature finally awoke, exposing the purple orbs within, which to his astonishment exhibited a faint, waning glow. The source, which appeared to be linked to the imperturbable nature of its sleep appeared to be external to the child.

Mund, taciturn, let out a sigh upon his assumptions, fixing his gaze upon the naïve beam of Ravenna. Their fate was up to the unsullied stars' volition.