Prologue: Fallen Darkness
Author's Note
Currently reworking this chapter.
Prologue: Fallen Darkness
Prologue: Fallen Darkness
Fire spread as far as my eyes could see, and I was running. No; I was out of breath, which means I have been constantly run.
The Dragons' fire spewed from the great maws wrecking havoc, and sounds of metal clanking on metal pierced the air. The fires gnawed at thatched roofing and oaken walls. It was a day that nopony had expected. Prince Blood lead his troops with the help from the Dragons to overthrow the King.
I, a simple plebeian, or so I thought; when the fighting broke out between the King’s troops and Prince Blood’s troops, I quickly found myself in the middle of the fighting. Wielding a rusty sword I held the line; well, I more-or-less am ‘kiting’ the line. Drawing it back slowly, in what I hoped was a strategic manner, to the castle.
A Dragon swiftly swooped down ahead of me, breathing its fierce fire down. I jumped to the side as fast as I could. Fire erupting on the chalky stone ground -- the flames bellow out. My fur furiously caught fire; I patted just as furiously at the scorching fire until I was satisfied the flames had gone out. I waited for the flames, scattered across the road, to die down. It helped me to also catch my breath, but I found out that was a mistake in record time. Three heavily clad Knights came around the corner to my north, while two from the corner south of me. I was now trapped.
I readied my rusty sword, while they readied their sharpened steel weapons and clanky heavy shields. One of the Knights in front of me charged eagerly. He slashed widely with his great sword; I did what they weren't expecting. I countered his strike with a quick diagonal swing of my blade.
A loud cry of metal on metal, and the Knight's sword was thrown off course. It smashed directly into the side of the nearest wall, temporarily stuck. The knight lost focus of defending its self(herself?), which is when I struck down with my sword. Blood shot out of her neck. I wasn't able to decapitate her like I hoped, but the lack of movement told me that it didn't matter.
The Knights behind me both charged. One with a stab from an Estoc and the other, following in her friend's example, with a wide horizontal swing from her great sword. I side hopped to the right of the Estoc stab, before rolling, under the heavy swing, between the two Knights. Two quick slashes to the great sword Knight and she went down for good.
The last two Knights joined in on the fight, but I wasn't ready to fight three at once. Hence I started my ‘Kiting’ tactic again. I dashed to the nearest door, which appeared to be leading into a bakery. Waiting at the door, one Knight came bolting in, he was wielding a heavy looking Battle Axe. I stabbed him in the side , and a massive amount of blood spilled out along with a gut or two from the mediocre sized hole. Pulling my sword free I ran toward the back door.
Once there, the heavy metallic hooffalls of the Knights' told me they were closing in--for being in armor they were surprisingly fast--I kicked the door open; only to find seven arrows whizzing either past the, now, open door, or finding their way into it. Finding no time to think about it, I trotted out into the street. Arrows whizzed closely past me on all sides, surprisingly, I wasn't hit. Eight more Knights were now on my tail, or they wished they were. I started down this street, charcoal now mixing into my dusty, muddied coat.
I ‘Kited’ the group all the way down the street, around the corner, and up some stairs. All the while with Bowponies firing at me. With the Knights filing their way up the narrow steps, forcing them to go one at a time. I bashed my sword against the front most Knight’s shield, after the sixth hit the Knight staggered, but my poor sword broke with a twinging noise.
Using what little blade there was left I hacked away at the Knight until it was no more. Knowing that my sword was more, or possibly, less useless I dropped it. I wish I could pickup one of the Knight's equipment, but after a couple of seconds they, along with their stuff, will disappear; which included anything I tried to use.
Blood started to run from my side. An arrow pierced my fully exposed body, while I was forgetting to run. Painfully, and swiftly, I yanked the arrow out, far more blood oozed out slowly. I started galloping as fast as my weary legs would allow. I was heading for the castle. With the drawbridge destroyed and the gate fixed open I would be able to easily make my way in, but the knights could too.
A loud swooshing sound told me that Fate had other plans. The biggest Dragon I had ever seen landed on the crumpled and shattered drawbridge, given it was only the third dragon I had ever seen but it was still the largest. I skid to a stop a short distance before it. It’s large scaly green maw opened wide, and it belched out a large stream of flame. I knew there was nowhere to take cover, so I did the only reasonable thing I could think of; I closed my eyes, just shortly before the flames engulfed me. Burning me to, what I briefly thought, a crisp.
A groan escaped my throat, I opened my eyes blinded by the light. I closed them quickly, waiting a few moments I opened them again. I waited, blinded, for my eyes to adjust to this dim light setting. After a while I could see, near, perfectly. I looked around. The cold, dirty stones beneath me told me I was alive, or that I at least had some feeling. A putrid torch nestled closely to a crumpled, cracked stone wall, which I would only assume was also cold to the touch. Vines wrapped themselves around a humongous stone pillar in the center of the room, and along the stone walls; while some had made its way onto the flooring, making a brownish-green earthen carpet of vine.
I seemed to be lying down near what looked like several big rotted-brown wooden crates, and some matching barrels. Over the tops of the barrels and crates, I could make the luminescent light of another torch. Based on the size of those crates I wouldn't be able to push them, and those barrels are huge. Pushing them over would probably be far more of a challenge than the crates.
Funny, I don’t remember feeling a warmth earlier.
From the direction of the crumpled wall a very bright, and blinding, light was now shining through the missing wall space landing directly onto my cold figure. It is blinding, but only momentarily; as once I adjusted to the new light I could, near perfectly, look around and see again.
Wall? Why was the wall broken? I was now ready to move from light to walls, although the source of this light was strange, because unlike the torches, pain awaited me every time I looked at the source. Some large circular yellowish object. Could I have done that to the wall, or did I do that to the wall?
Even if I told myself that I couldn't, and didn't, do that to the wall I was unsure, since…
“Ow,” or I would have groaned that, but it came out as “oouughw.” My head was starting to feel like it was being hit by an axe… why would I even have that analogy? Throat and head, both in an unusual state, almost as if I had suffocated to death by smoke or something similar.
Perhaps getting some “fresh” air will help with all of my pain; I tried getting up, but some snapping and cracking sounds forced me to stay down. My bones are all achy and shaky. Not to mention also slightly broken by what I could tell.
To my left resting neatly next to the wall was a fiery orange bottle. I wanted it, or perhaps it called out to me? Either way I was going to get it. I reached out precariously. Only to find my hoof aching, burning and breaking the further I mustered near the bottle. Not even the half-mark I could muster, my hoof dropped to the stony cold floor. I reached out with my mind pulling on the bottle--like when a foal wants a toy just out of reach--my concentration slipped, only when the bottle started lifting into the air.
A clank and clunk told me that it landed on the hard floor. I shook myself. I had to try again, and of course this time I will know what to expect. I reached out mentally again, just like last time the bottle slowly lifted into the air. Very slowly it floated toward me based solely on my will. After what seemed like a long time the bottle was close to me. Now easily within in hoof range, I once again tried to pick it up.
My wrinkled brown burned coatless hoof greeted the bottle, which seemed to emanate a mysterious warmth radiating from its fiery orange body. Accompanying the warmth was a mysterious weight, which was unnatural for a bottle. I quickly figured out, though, that I am simply incredibly weakened, and somehow lifting a bottle is almost outside of my current strength.
I slowly brought the orange bottle painfully to my waiting, dry, cracked lips. The liquid inside of the fiery orange bottle was also… fiery, but it wasn't orange flavored, like I thought, it was a flavor I could never find outside of this drink. It was sweet and sour; warm and cold, soothing and burning, it was all of that and more. After the briefest amount of time I had finished the bottle, and I was already longing for more.
With the bottle becoming empty I found that its fiery orange glow was too, it was replaced by a dull multi-color of dark greens. Alongside of the drink, hitting my stomach bringing a soothing feeling washing throughout all of my body, I found that I didn't have much feeling at all through my body. Burning, aching pain rushed through me.
Whatever I had just taken it got rid of the dull void feeling I had been having, and made it possible to feel. Although all I was able to feel was a distant pain, and I couldn't say that I really liked it; as it caused me to feel all of my burning, and broken body, but slowly… oh so very slowly I could feel that I was getting better. No I was wrong. I already was better, and it was just my imagination that I was still in pain… phantom pain was what it was called… how did I know that?
The pain had been gone already and all that remained was that fake phantom pain. Even with that “pain” I should be able to stand up, and now was the time to try. Forelegs check. Hindlegs check. Standing… unsatisfactory, I was leaning to one side or the other. Wobbly I believe they called it, but it would have to do, for now at least. I picked up the bottle, and swiftly tucked it aside somewhere I was hoping would be safe.
I hadn't realized immediately, but when I was sitting my head had been pounding, it wasn't until I was standing that I was forcibly made aware of it. I reached up with a hoof, hoping that a hoof to the head would make everything better, and… a bump? I found a long-ish bump protruding from my forehead… wait? Ow! The end was sharp and pointy, which means it isn't a bump, but a horn.
I am a Unicorn? That couldn’t be right… but now that I think about it. I didn’t know anything about myself; eye color, coat color… mane color, gender… name… nothing. How was it I knew nothing? Maybe it isn't that I don’t know, but I just don’t remember, though, I could be wrong.
Anyway, now that I was standing it was time to walk. First step… kinda wobbly, and shaky, but the second step. The second step was much better, and my scraped, bruised, chin would agree. I unstably stood myself back up, but just like last time I fell down a short time later. No pony told me walking would be hard. Actually for that matter, where was anypony?
Regardless, I made it five steps before falling, and almost made it to the big-ass hole of a wall. I decided to save my chin by crawling the rest of the way. Outside of this little room was surprisingly a few things of interest. The most notable would have to have been that this room was elevated, or I was in a tower of some sorts. The next is far below me, there was some ruins of a destroyed and weathered town; as a bonus it was all in front of a large castle, or at least it looked large. By what I could tell I was somewhere in the castle, though, I did have an unimpeded look of the entire thing.
The last, I think, was that to my right was a reflective surface, and a dark clothed object both hanging on the central pillar. I may be mistaken, but the reflective object might possibly be known as a mirror. With the reflective surface of the… mirror, I could finally see what I look like. I tried once more to walk, and found that if you move your legs forward instead of in a line, then you can walk quite well.
In the mirror I saw... a monster looking back at me? Pure black eyes… or maybe holes? and what looks like tiny threads of what used to be a mane, but it was far to tiny to tell what color it was, or used to be. My skin, ugh, my skin looked like meat that had been dehydrated, and left to bake in the sun for sixty years. It was all brown and wrinkly, and if the skin had been slightly missing I would be able to see the bones that are clearly sticking out from the skin, but without piercing.
I seemed to have some strange little mark on my chest directly between my forelegs, and directly below my neck. The strange little mark was… fascinating? comforting? dangerous? well whatever it was, it looked like a circle of fire, or maybe a burned out circle of fire? I looked over the rest of my body and found… a tattoo on my ass!?
I looked at the tattoo, and found that it didn't look like it was actually a tattoo, but some type of mark. It was some big thing of fire in a ball-ish shape right behind twin long swords, which were crossed. The fiery ball was an orange, trimmed by a fine red, fire, while the swords had simple handles wrapped in a light brown leather wrap, and just as simple cross-guards. But the blades on these… swords they looked amazing! The fuller and edges were both different colors, the fuller a scarlet red, while the edge a sapphire red… lots of reds I've noticed.
I guess I hadn't notice but I had teeny tiny patches of my coat left, but like my mane, it too, was an indeterminable color. I looked outright hideous. Did I always look like this, or was this look rather new? I wish that I knew the answer.
I poked the clothed object hanging on the wall only to, disappointingly, find that it started to sway a little from the force of my unsteady poke. Deciding it was safe, I picked it up off of the wall. Upon closer inspection I found that it was a bag, colored oddly black, inside the bag was... nothing?
Okay then. I slung the strap of the bag around my neck letting it hang comfortably beside me, before deciding that a bag would be safer for my empty little bottle. Tucking it inside the bag carefully, I cautiously closed it up; as I didn't want my one and only possession, currently, to fall out and break.
Another putrid torch hung predominantly against the far wall, and based on its placement this was the third torch; by what I could tell it was also the last torch. To add to the further design this huge room was made up of just a few things; large crates, equally large barrels, three horrible smelling torches, a mirror and a humongous hole in the wall, but there was the possibility of stairs. If this was really a tower then there must be a way down after all.
Crossing over to the next, last, torch, with my now steady, even, steps, I found that I was indeed correct. A third torch rested against the wall only a short distance behind, or in this case, in front of the crates and barrels. Most importantly, directly below the torch was a wooden fence lining some stairs. The fencing wasn't in the best condition, I knew that I wouldn't want to lean against it for any reason.
The stairs, like the rest of the room, didn't look like it was in the best condition. Cracked, broken and unstable. Those are just a few words I could think up to describe the state of those stairs. Either way it was the only way down, and I knew, or subconsciously knew, that shortly I would have to traverse down.
Might as well just hop to it then. I certainly wasn't going to actually hop down, that would be ridiculous. No, what I am going to do is step very carefully, but that is the plan. Who knew that the first step would ruin the plan?
After my face made contact with the hard steps, pain igniting throughout my head and face, my body followed shortly after. A pattern came up too. Head stairs, ass wall, back stairs, head wall, ass stairs and it continued like that all the way down. I could tell it had ended when a loud thump rang out, and I wasn't moving anymore.
I heard some rustling from behind me, though with me facing the wall upside down; I suppose that truly the rustling was coming from somewhere in the room that I had landed in. Then a giggly voice shot out from behind me.
“That was ammmmaazzing! Can you do that again!?”
With my flank hanging in the air I felt that it wasn't the most appropriate way to talk to somepony, with a quick readjustment I was back to an upright position. I could see that the pony was almost completely hidden in some type of metal casing… armor! or barding? It doesn't matter all that much what something was called, just that it was called something.
The giddy pony hidden behind her armor called out once again. “Hhheeey how would yyyooooouuu like to help me!? In return I could help you!” she hollered quickly. This mysterious pony was... well… mysterious, the only thing that I could see of her would be a very pink and curly mane sticking out of her helmet.
“Hugh dughn viugh,” I croaked out, my voice still hoarse.
She gasped. “Sillosaurus!” that wasn't even a word I knew, though, it did sound like silly and saurus mashed together. “You can’t talk well when almost Hollowed!” She ruffled through a bag of her own, before pulling something out. “Here use this thing!” she chirped, while throwing something at my hooves.
I picked up the strange item. The item looked like it had the shape of a pony, but upon further inspection I could swear it looked just like me. Once I pulled the item close to me, it vanished with a woosh sound. I felt an eccentric tingle coursing its way throughout my entire body, when I looked down at my hooves… the fur coat had grown back!? A sapphire red fur coat, which I found pleasantly beautiful, staring back at me in full majestic-ness. Something also flopped around on the top of my head, when I gave it a small shake in disbelief. I found that I also, now, had a mane again, some reason it too was a shade of red, scarlet to be precise.
The frivolous pink maned mare giggled, near hysterically. “See isn't it better not to be hollllooowwed!?” she asked giddily. “Say what’s your name a’stranger!?”
“I… I don’t…” I could talk again! I could talk again? “...know,” I answered her.
She started hopping? no bouncing toward me, stopping barely out of my reach. “Now that won’t do! Let’s start over!” she commanded happily. “My name… I am the Knight Pinkus!” she chimed, quickly after thinking, “and you are!?”
I wish I knew the answer to that. “I-I… I am… Fallen… Darkness?”
She started to rock up and down excitedly, or shake? “Almost try it once more, but with more conviction-wicktion!”
“I am Fallen Darkness?” I managed to proclaim, albeit it was barely above a whisper, and almost without any conviction(wicktion). I couldn't figure out why, but the name Fallen Darkness brought with it an air of familiarity, and security.
“Well! Whatever! You! Will! Help! Me,” she commanded sternly, but still cheerily, as she lifted up her visor. Pinkus had two round very pink eyes matching her pink mane. I could see a small amount of her coat as well, and just like the rest of her it was a very pink color. She continued. “You will fight, and kill the ones carrying the Lord soul, but to do that you must become stronger.” She pulled out a small sword.
I recognized it quickly as a short sword. “Using this you will kill the old king of this castle!” She paused making sure that I heard everything. “After that I will give you the next place to go, and if you find that you need help fighting! Don’t forget that you can summon me, using the glowing writing thingies!”
Behind her I could make out a sword stuck into a pile of bones and ash, but strangely there seemed to be a small amount of… wood? but more notably would have to have been the sword. It had a coiled blade, being wrapped by vines. Pinkus trotted… hopped over to it. “Fanduyus. Baceto belt gadaver,” she called out, before sitting, and… vanishing?
I was shocked. For the oddest reason, not of Pinkus vanishing, but because whatever language she spoke… I could understand. I knew deep down that I should take it to heart. ‘Pillaging. Regardless of the reason.’ I would take that to heart.
I had yet to understand what she told me, not the language… the meaning, but when I find out… I was sure it would be important. Why else would she tell me it? But more importantly was that I am being drawn toward the coiled sword struck into the pile of bones.
I trotted absentmindedly toward the pile, when I got close I reached my right forehoof to the sword. Suddenly, shockingly, the bones alit and a brilliant orange, red and yellow flame had coiled itself around the base of the sword. The flame brilliant, but small. For some reason I wanted to nurture and protect this little flame. I plopped down, now sitting at the fire… no that didn't sound right… ‘Bonfire’ that was what it was. How did I know that?
Shortly after sitting down next to the bonfire, I felt time melt away. I was no longer able to tell if I would be sitting there for minutes, hours, decades or centuries. Everything just melted away.
Footnote: Soul Level 77 - 1
Chapter One: Castle-ling
“Ha ha heh heh...”
Time had slipped away, when I sat down at the bonfire. I noticed it, when I got up just minutes ago. I could have sworn I was sitting at the bonfire for only several minutes, but it could have easily been hours, or days. I know because I am back up stairs, and I found that the floor next to the hole is wet. I also know that it isn’t raining, or cloudy.
After my time of sitting at the bonfire, I found that I have been able to move without a certain creak of my bones and joints. I can now walk, trot, run and gallop without any problems, although I can only run and gallop for shortish periods of time. My breathing becomes shallow, quick and untimely.
I felt the weight of two things; the weight of the small dull sword encased in its scabbard hanging at my left side, and the bottle, which is fiery orange once again, snuggly lying in my bag, which is resting on the other side. It nestled against my disheveled sapphire-red coat jumbling the hairs around even more.
I quickly blew the bangs away from my eyes, like my coat, my mane and tail are in an untidy state; also I have noticed that the color red surrounds me, quite brilliantly.
Could red have some significant meaning that I am unaware about? That is to remain unseen, or at least I don’t have the answer. It is curious how much red surrounds me, though.
Shaking my head, snapping out of pointless thinking. “I should get a move on, and all of this thinking is only delaying the inevitable.” I went back to the stairs, leading down to the bonfire room, and slowly traverse down with a newly found ease.
I hadn’t had the chance to truly look at the stairs before; as the first time, I came down… quickly, and the time after that I was absorbed in thought. But now I can really look at them, and I can’t say that I like what I see. Centuries of being unused, water running down everytime it rained, has caused it to become a mildew green, with moss covering a good portion of the stairs, all in all, the water damage was really showing through.
A minute later: I had bottomed out, or I reached the bottom, which now that I think about it, is a much more accurate expression. This room is far more than what one would expect, for example; in the middle of the wall directly under the stairs the structurability is weak, given it seems to have already collapsed on top of somepony. Now with that, lovely, cadaver I did the only thing I could think of doing; I looted, ransacked, stole… no pillaged it.
Pinkus’ words rung through my head. “Fanduyus. Baceto belt gadaver.” I was curious about how I could understand the language that she used, when it was clearly foreign from the one we were using. Could I speak it? The thought raced through my mind, as much fun as I would have thinking about it. I decided to just put it at the back of my head, at least for the time being.
The cadaver had some weird thing on it, I hadn’t the faintest idea what it was supposed to be, though the word “rubbish” did pop into my mind, albeit only briefly. Well whatever it was supposed to be, I dropped it into my bag.
My attention drew to the other side of the room. I could make out several large crates, cleaner than the ones in the room above, but somehow deeper into their natural degradation… whatever that meant.
Degradation. Why did that sound, so, familiar? Why did that word bring, fear, terror, sadness, from deep inside of me? I didn’t like that word, and I had no idea why. It was strange, or I hope that it is considered strange. Feeling sadness toward a word you knew nothing about.
“Kill the old King.” That was what Pinkus told me, but other than somewhere in this castle, I have no idea where the King could possibly be; or who the King could be, without some basic knowledge I am going in blind. Whatever. Standing around here won’t solve anything, though.
I trotted past the incandescent flame. Close to the crates lay the stairs connecting to the lower level, I was going to go down them; or die trying. A soft click resounded below me, simultaneously my foremost hoof drew closer to the floor.
A second later multiple louder clicks sounded below the floor. Slowly, carefully, I moved over to the underly secured stairs. The steps fared far better with this flight compared to the other one. With uncertainty I placed a hoof on the first step. Nothing.
It was safe, I think. Now was the time to descend this surmountable challenge. Step after step I descended, until I made it to the last few steps. That was where the wall lining the steps gave way, and I saw the first glimpse of the lower floor.
More putrid torches, always with the putrid torches, and… another pony? He… she? whatever it was, it is wearing a metal helmet, which looked battered, beaten and broken, and some simple chain-cloth barding. Laying next to it was the fragments of an old worn sword, or what remained of the sword.
I finished crawling down the stairs flashing a beaming smile. I had to smile, I made it down the stairs without anything happening. From the ceiling I noticed blackness, nothing but blackness to be precise… how bizarre.
I decide to look at the pony once more. Was it… breathing? still! But now it looked like some sort of soldier, an infantry pony perhaps. He (definitely a he) started to move. I gestured a hoof in an apologetic way. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to… disturb you.”
He didn’t reply. Not immediately at least, his head shot up and a terrible growling scream pierced my ears. I saw his face, it looked a lot like my face before I used that magical thingy, but his face looked farther along. Hollowed, flashed into my mind, whatever that meant.
He swooped his head down and grabbed the handle of the broken blade tightening it in his mouth. He leapt at me, instinctively I jumped back. I gripped the hilt to the sword Pinkus gave me, a resonating ‘Shing’ sounded out from the sheath, as metal rubbed against metal.
With my blade drawn I was ready, ready to face off against this pony. He was too. His head quickly dropped down, tilted and swung up at me. I jumped back once again readied my blade and struck it forward in a jab. The blade bounced off of the barding gashing a small chunk into the material.
The Infantry pony roared once again and charged. I swept my blade at his deft side, with it I managed to push the charge off and the Infantry pony crashed into the wall behind me. Quickly I turned around, drove the sword into his back. Blood trickled out of the wound. I pulled the blade out of the wound.
“Groagh,” he roared one more time, before slumping over, unmoving.
The dull grey blade now coated in a crimson coat. ‘Shhht’ with that my sword once again sheathed. I could see a strange mist fly out of the infantry pony, it came right at me. My forehooves shot up to block whatever it was, but it just went right through them.
“I… I feel… better, stronger,” I said aloud. It was true. Whatever that mist was, it made me feel stronger, better. Improved. I could see that on the opposite side of the room from the stairs rested a heavy looking wooden door.
I trot over to it, putting a hoof against, and push on it. It didn’t budge. Locked. I scan the room for something to unlock the door. Nothing, nothing at all. The only thing other than the torches would be the Infantry pony.
I walk over to it. Hanging loosely in his armor, nestled closely to the coat, was a key. I take it. “Pillaging. Regardless of the reason,” I had a feeling that, that phrase was going to become very familiar to me.
Back at the door I found the key hole, and jammed the key inside and twisted. ‘Click’ it should now be unlocked. I push with my magic. The sound of rusted door hinges echoed inside the room. The door was finally opened and it led right into a…
Hallway.
A hallway, I can’t believe that it is just a hallway. I sighed, then stepped into the hallway. To the right a long stretch with doors lining only one side; the left a standing side-table with a vase and… a wall… no window.
I twisted the key out of the hole, dropped it into my bag and started to take off to the right. Why couldn’t things be labeled? It would make it so much easier to know what things are for, and possibly some sort of description. I started to count my hoofsteps.
One, two, three, four…
Twenty-six, I made it to the first door. Not counting the one I came out of that is. Just like the last door it was locked, I procured the key from my bag; jamming it into the keyhole and twisting. ‘Click’ I pushed the door with my magic. Nothing. I concentrated gathering more of my magical energy on the door, using the new amount of power I pushed once again.
Again, nothing. I grabbed the door with my magic one last time, this time pulling. ‘Creak’ the door brushes past me. I smack my hoof to my face. “Interior swinging doors, makes sense... but this would be the wrong interior.”
It is wrong. Just. Wrong, how could anypony make such a fatal design choice? To put this here it must have taken an obscure, crazy, and deranged pony. Then there is the room that it leads into…
Is that a chest? A rugged carpet with scarce hints of blues, teals and rich greens. On the opposite side of the room a rectangular wooden box-y shape, which would have to be a chest. Other than the two objects the room bore nothing in which I could see.
I hate this castle already, and if I get the chance to talk to the designer… I’ll give them a good talking to? Alright, I wasn’t sure what I would do, but I was going to do something. A thought occured.
What if I designed this castle? No?! No, that would be ridiculous.
I don’t even know how I got into the room I woke up in, or how long I was up there. Well, standing around won’t answer things, and it has only caused me to make a bigger list of questions, all of which I would like to have answers to.
I slowly step past the door. A wave of doubt washed through my hooves, I was getting antsy… unsettled. I was getting the feeling that something wasn’t right. I shake my head. It didn’t help. I still have an unsettling feeling in my hooves.
Ignoring my hooves I continue further into the room, and onto the rough, pungent carpet. The carpet, like I thought, felt as bad as it had looked. Some patches are rough, while other parts are squishy, but the thing that stays the same is the pungent, putrid smell.
Within a minute I made it all the way past the gross carpet to the chest. I placed a hoof on lid. Lifting it up I felt the heavy weight of the over-designed stature. Aesthetically underwhelming, but over-designed nonetheless. It was over-designed in the sense that it had far more bulk than necessary, but looked simple hence Aesthetically underwhelming.
The lid now fully opened revealed that inside the chest was--
“Agh!” I cried out.
Looking down I could see a slight bump sticking out amongst my, otherwise, smooth coat. I dare not too, but did it anyway. Looking behind me I can see another Infantry pony, broken sword in mouth, dull grey broken blade unfindable.
Seconds later, the blade returned bathed in a crimson coating. I felt a gaping gash, no longer plugged, blood was starting to gush out liter after liter. Blackness seethed into my vision. I couldn’t... I couldn’t stay awake. I closed my eyes, if only for a moment. Relishing the numbing sensation, before I swiftly fell asleep.
---^You Died^---
I shuffled to my hooves. Pain panging through my skull. I quickly patted my chest and back where I was stabbed, nearly, through. Nothing? I felt the same… okay, almost the same. Something was different, my sapphire red coat had darkened. My mane seemed to stay the same. But the hole the sword made was nowhere to be found.
I was… I was back at the fire, no bonfire. When did I get back here? The last thing I remembered before jumping up, was being stabbed in the back. Did I just die? If so, how am I back here? I didn’t have time to finish those thoughts, as when I looked down I saw the circle of fire on my chest die down. It wasn’t painful, it was hardly noticeable. If I hadn’t looked I wouldn’t have even known.
“Next time I see Pinkus, I should ask what this thing is,” my voice was slightly raspy; like I hadn’t had anything to drink and my throat was dry as a result.
I wanted to know what was in that flawed chest. I had to know, like something was actively driving me to figure it out. Curiousity. An atrocious word, one which I dared not describe my action.
I shook my head. Trotted back to the stairs leading down. At the bottom I found the Infantry pony, back once again. I drew my sword, lowered down, readied for the fight. With a roar the Infantry pony rose, broken sword readied.
With one of her? terrifying growls, she charged. I slammed my blade onto the broken blade. With a resounding crack the jaw swung open, broken blade dropping with a clatter to the now stoney ground. I swiftly withdrew my blade, only momentarily; as I stabbed her, without hesitation, straight down the throat.
With a sputter blood foamed out around my short sword. I withdrew the blade, and with a ‘swish’ the blood was swung off. I sheathed my weapon, looking to the door. Gulping at what was ahead.
--- --- ---
It turns out that inside the chest was the same type of thing Pinkus gave me. A pony dummy? model? effigy? well, I wouldn’t know. Inside the room I managed to dispatch another two Infantry ponies. Like the ones below the bonfire room, they used broken swords.
Four doors, there was a total of four doors lining the hallway, and I had already explored half of them. I was sure that like the first two, the last two would be locked. Trotting down to the next door. Something told me that I didn’t have to check each and every door, but something deep down bothered me. It bothered me in the ‘check out every door’ way.
I pushed on the door. I closed my eyes and sighed. “Right, pull not push.” I pulled on the door with my magic. Nothing. Oh right, I guess that feeling saying it was locked had some sincerity behind it. I slipped the key out of my bag and into the slot, turning.
A ‘click’ told me that it was unlocked. I pulled with my magic once more. I was glad that I had magic, because there was a keyhole directly above a metal pad. The pad told me that the doors should either; swing both ways, or open toward the room. But they didn’t, they all opened in toward the hallway.
Inside this room, the same layout as the other, rested a huge pony with an equally large hammer. Big black armor adorned his(definitely a he, pulsating like that) thick muscle-ey, blackened, brown coat. He was staring at the floor, and the creaking of the door drew his attention up toward me.
Once his black hollow eyes spotted me, an undulated growl ripped from his throat. He grabbed the hammer with his thick, blackened, brown horn’s magic. I winced, his horn had to be three-- no, four -- times larger than mine, and about half as long as my sword.
I readied my sword. The, blackened, brown armored pony stepped forward, crossing nearly the entire room in three powerful steps, bringing his hammer above him. Before swiftly dropping it down toward me from above my head.
I stumbled backward in the nick of time; the hammer gliding close to my head, and even closer to my horn. The shockwave from the weapon crashing into the ground caused me to stumble. By the time I recovered the hammer pony had moved his hammer next to him.
I looked at him just in time for the hammer to catch my side. My breath escaped me, and I went flying into the nearby wall. My sword clattered across the room. Feeling rushed, as hammer pony was charging me, I tried to stand only to feel my right foreleg give way under me.
As I landed on the ground, I almost had time to look up at the large face of a blackened, burned, hammer.
--^You Died^--
I jumped up. The second time helped answer some of those… pesky questions. For example I am quite sure that I don’t stay dead, but I reanimate or something like that. And that it is the weird mark I have on my chest to thank for that.
Last time I died I thought I was imagining things, like I was somehow different. Well it turns out that something truly was different. My coat had become far darker, small patches missing, my mane and tail had gotten slightly... mucked, dirtied or all around messier.
I raced back down the stairs. It took a full minute to kill the Infantry pony. I had to sidestep, roll, backstep and evade through any other means. I landed the final hit by cutting his throat, after he thrashed wildly with his broken sword.
Outside in the hall, I stopped, closed my eyes, breathed in. Held. Then let out an entire lung capacity of an exhale. Before resuming with my regular breathing. Serenity spread through me in a wave of calm, and control.
Twenty-six steps and I was at the first door. Twenty-seven more steps and I made it to the door with the big hammer pony. I gripped it in my magic and pulled. It was locked, strange. When I died it was opened and unlocked. But now, it is closed and locked?
Using the key I unlocked the heavy wooden door. The, blackened, brown knightly pony rose to greet me, his blackened and burned large hammer rose up --with ease-- in his vibrant yellow magical grip. I involuntarily gulped; brought out my sword, coated with a nice dark red, or crimson gleam of blood.
I had an idea for defeating this armored power hitter. Given I had no idea if it would work, but it was a baseline… which was a start. Right? I hope so. It all depended on one thing.
The Knight pony raised his hammer toward his steeled side. Swinging with unbridled ferocity the air seemed to scream out in pain. I raised my sword, as rapidly as I could to my side right between myself and the mighty hammer.
As the hammer made contact with the bloodied sword’s blade it slowed, not enough to stop; but enough to soften the impact the hammer would of had when it inevitably strikes home. The hammer struck me incredibly hard, but not as hard as the last time. I cried out, “perf--” though I wasn’t able to finish, and the ending melded into a cry of pain.
I soared down the hallway, upon contact with the ground I was hoping I would stop, yet I didn’t. I tumbled, rolled and scraped against the silky purple carpet lining the hall. “I cannot believe it… it worked!” I hastily stood, dizzied and pain ridden. I reluctantly pulled out the fiery orange bottle.
Just as reluctantly, I brought it to my, eager, lips. This time the flavor and texture had changed. Instead of being many things it was… rich, soothing and somehow like fire’s incarnate. Strangely not bad, still the best thing I have ever had. I returned the multi-colored bland green empty bottle to my bag.
By the time my attention returned to the hammer Knight pony, the pain was gone, and he charged me. His hammer waiting attentively at his right side, again. I lowered anticipating what was next. He was four seconds away, three seconds and I would be in range of his terrible swing.
Two… one, I hastily, impatiently, dropped down to the floor. A great gust of wind breezed past me. Immediately, still impatiently, I darted up past the gigantic figure. To my surprise, I caught the faint figure of a smooth, rough face. Then everything went black. A quick flash of pain, before numbness.
--^You Died^--
I rose up angered. If I could see myself, then I would see that my mane and tail were replaced by fire. Okay, so it wasn’t actually fire, but it felt that way right now. Just erupting flames, or nearly. I was fuming in my anger.
Shortly after, by the time I reached the stairs, I was wallowing in… well, whatever it is I was supposed to be wallowing in. I shook it away, I knew that I wouldn’t stay there forever, and it wasn’t like I could stay there forever… five-ever, maybe, but not forever. I could keep going for who knows how many times. Now that was a good thought.
“How is it I keep coming back to life, and how is it I, with my things are perfectly normal again?” What if… it was unlife, and I wasn’t truly alive, but already long dead? I wish I could get the answers. I trot down the stairs. And if I were to just die again. Would I come back? How many times can I come back? That was the point I wished I could truly get the answers.
Not wanting to waste anytime on the Infantry pony, I charge before it gets up. Unsheathing and driving it right into her side. She howled out in fury, with a slight tone of pain mixed in. She swooped down picking up the broken sword, taking my blade out of my grasp, momentarily. The Infantry pony swung at me rapidly, left and right, again and again.
I had to backstep to stay just out of reach of the crude broken weapon. After the end of the ninth swing the Infantry pony seemed tired, as she didn’t do a followup attack. Using that small amount of time, before the inevitable recovery, I turned around and shot my hindlegs, as quickly and as hard as I could, right into the muzzle.
My hooves smacked right in the central muzzle area, right between the nostrils, staggering my adversary. I kicked again. “I will just have to hoof the rest of this,” I thought. Kick after kick, she stumbled backward. Finally with one final kick my adversary dropped, unmoving, to the ground.
I reached out with my magic taking hold of my short sword. With some difficulty I was able to remove it. I noticed something had slipped out of the Infantry pony’s barding. I levitated it up with my magic, and found that the something was really somethings.
Two small knives, which must be easy to throw, or they were used as assassination tools. Easily hidden, easily used and disposed of, or just leave them in the mark. Assassinations aside. I dropped the two, possibly, throwing knives into my bag. With these I had a new idea, a new idea that I had hoped would take down the Knight pony.
I raced down the hall, key already floating ready at my side. I crossed twenty-six steps in under three seconds, and twenty-seven in under four. I skid to a stop as I reached the door, shoving the key inside and twisting, I was rewarded with a soft ‘Click.’
I levitated out a single knife set it gently against to the wall behind me. I then proceeded to take my sword out, and set it down on the ground directly on the ground in the middle of the hall, halfway between the door and the knife against the wall. I grabbed the door and swung it open.
Just like the other times the, huge, pony lifted up his hammer, though this time with a gurgling. Three and a half steps would be all it takes for him to reach the door, and another step to make it out into the hallway. I would be within range of his, horrible, heavy swings once he entered the hall.
Two… three… no, five? he took the hammer straightened the massive head towards me, lunging it at me. My eyes darted open in surprise, I barely had anytime to react, I backstepped as hastily as I could. The head threatening me with a massive amount of pain(damage).
Caught off guard, I hesitated with going through with my plan. But I had to do it, I couldn’t think of anyother way to defeat the Knight. With the decision to go through with it anyway, I lowered myself closer to the floor; waiting for him to take action, depending on what he did, I had a few things that would define my own actions. The Knight stepped into the hall his attention on me. The hammer was brought right above his head a slam down, or smash.
He brought down the heavy hammer in a heavy swing. I backstepped one more time. Just out of his reach, the air rippling as the huge head passed by me, I reached out with my magic. Grabbing the knife and hurtling it at the giant a few paces from me. It found home in his muscular throat, it caused him to stumble backward.
Utilizing this brief opening I grabbed my sword with my magic, racing behind him and thrusting the sword into the partially exposed back. Driving the edge through the rough blackened hide, proved to be difficult, but with some strain I somehow pushed it all the way through. Blood sprayed out onto the blade, and dripping unhindered into the carpet.
When I removed my sword I couldn’t help but notice my breaths were short and heavy; ragged and painful. I slumped down against the door’s frame. Resting. “Rest will... make me better... right?” I had felt like I was talking to the hopefully dead Knight. Luckily for me the Knight didn’t respond, or move, at my question.
I slouched against the door’s frame for several minutes. After those several minutes I pushed myself up, collecting and sheathing my sword, and checking on the knife. When I pulled it free, I found that it had broken off inside the neck, I dropped it with a clatter to the floor. With heavy lidded eyes I looked down the hall, and to my dismay I had one more door, before a turn to more hallway on the left.
I walked all twenty-three steps to the next door, with downcast eyes. I opened my bag only to find a metal object missing. I winced as I realised my blunder. I was forced, then, to walk all forty-six steps there and back. I was feeling a mixture of dread and embarrassment stretched across my flushed face.
Fiddling with the key I unlocked the door, and irritably swung it open. Like the other room with a chest, this one had a chest, though; this chest was made of metal instead of wood. Same principle, right? Swing open, swing shut. Your stuff stays safe, or as safe as an unlocked chest can be.
Panning the room, I got a better look of the room, this one had a corpse in the corner. It seems to be cradling something underneath itself. Curious, I step inside. Draw my sword, stomp on the ground several times to create some noise.
I took a few steps back, entering the hall once again. An axe’s blade falling where I had stood, seconds ago. I stabbed at the figure, who had swung the axe. My sword bit deep within, I was rewarded to a loud ear piercing shriek.
I stepped away, blade exiting the Earth Infantry pony, trying to get away from the noise. “Shut up!” I yelled angrily, gritting through the pain my ears were facing. I chopped at the neck, only to find that it lodged a quarter of the way through. My “luck” turned out to be better than I thought.
Another Earth Infantry pony charged through the doorway, a broken blade sticking out of her mouth. I reared and bucked her right in the neck. Sawing the neck of the other Infantry pony, attempting to free my precious defense and offense. The pony, who’s neck I have been trying to saw off, turned slightly making me control the “saw” wrong, which forced me to lose focus releasing it from my magic.
The one I hadn’t been sawing rears around and bucks me right across the muzzle. I see stars?! Shaking my head I focus again. I quickly reach into my bag, and pull out the last throwing knife. Throwing it, it sinks into the one that bucked my flank. Working on finishing her off, I rear around and buck once again. She didn’t fall, instead Sawed-neck’s axe sank deep into my side.
“Agh,” I start bucking rapidly trying to get it off, and out. Once the axe was free, I hop away as hastily as I could. Another swing barely missing me.
I ruffle through my bag finding my fiery healing flask, impatiently, chugging it down greedily. I felt all the pain radiating out of the wound disappear quickly and completely. I reach out with my magic ceasing the hilt, and wrenching with all my might. Blood shot out of the neck, or the lump where the head and neck connected with the shoulder. The missing head toppled to the ground blood covering the abused purple decor.
The remaining Infantry pony jumped at me, but I rolled to the right shortly before she landed. Sweeping my blade up. I cleaved my way through the midsection of her body, cutting it in two, but my poor blade shattered after passing all the way through. Seething with anger I dropped the now broken blade, and made my way into the room.
I dropped the scabbard for the, now, broken blade next to the door. I trotted over to the chest, opening it with my magic. Inside I found a piece of armor, or would that be barding. I can never keep that straight. I can never keep that straight?! I was remembering… nevermind.
Putting on the leather barding I found it a tight fit. It was my size, somehow, but it just felt tight. I hope that is because it is meant too. I look at the corner with the corpse. Using my magic I check underneath it. A Longsword, and five throwing knives.
I drop the knives into my bag, and put the Longsword where my Shortsword had been. With a new weapon and barding, I felt ready to take on anything. Nothing could stop me! or so I thought. I was also ready to die, again. Before trying, again.
Outside of the room the bodies of the dead lay unmoving, just how they should. I spotted something shiny on the axe pony’s corpse. Trotting over I grab the item, which is practically glowing. The axe, rustic but still good, levitated up in my magical grip. I dropped it into my bag, and made my way to the corner to more hallway.
I passed by the potted, decayed, plant in the corner. The carpet that had lined the hallway ended abruptly, replaced by a more… royal carpet? This had stitches of gold sewn into its vibrant violet body, with a slightly more majestic shade of violet trimming. Squishy, though, still squishy in places.
Around the corner was truly a long hallway, stairs leading down adjourning the the far edges, running parallel with the hall I am in. On the far side another corner leading to, what I could only guess, another hall. I trotted over to the first set of stairs. I found that a massive amount of the ceiling had collapsed and blocked the way down this set of stairs.
“Guess I have to go with thy other… the other.” I looked down to the other end. “The sooner I find this ‘Old King’ the better.” I trotted, about halfway, down the hall, when a long, huge, blade thrust past my face. I turned in the direction it came to find. Another Knight pony donning black armor.
She, the Knight, raised her huge Greatsword up, then cut down vertically. I jumped back, barely escaping getting my face cut in two. Greatsword Knight barely missed the ground, pulling the heavy blade around like it was a butter knife. She swept the blade horizontally.
Unlike earlier I was starting to be able to see the weapons, rolling to the right, just under the line of sweeping death. As soon as I was standing I raced toward the other end of this hall, where the functioning stairs would be, should be at least. The clunking of metal on metal, told me that my new friend was chasing after me. I pulled my new Longsword out holding it in my mouth, my magic was decent, but not decent enough to do what I was about to try.
I skid to a stop, and about-facing to the Greatsword Knight. I narrowed my eyes forcing my vision to focus on only the Knight. She raced toward me, horn alit with magic, her sword’s tip moved close to the ground. I could tell she was about to cleave me in two, or simply cut upwardly. If I failed then I would either die, or become very, very injured.
Greatsword was closing in four steps-- no five steps --until I am within her range. I took a small glance at the long blade stretching out to the left of me, which was convenient; since the Greatsword rested on the right side.
Three steps more. It couldn’t be that I was able to see better and follow the movements. It must be that I am on some type of mind alternating substance… or something like it. I was able to feel a rush flowing through my blood, my heart beats seemed years apart. Two steps. Everything around me was moving, as if in slow motion. I breathed in as deeply as I could.
One step, I start to release the breath. No more steps-- the blade is slowly swinging up. I lift the left side of my face and start to slam downward. With a resounding cry of Longsword versus Greatsword. Fallen Darkness versus Greatsword Knight mare. The blades shot out away from each other, except my blade faltered from flinging away.
Noticing that the Knight was wide open. I drove my sword home, deep within her body. Pulling the sword free less than a second later; blood spurted out of the freshly opened wound. I knew that she wasn’t dead, and within seconds would move again.
I jumped back a few times to get out of range. Already the blade was coated in a slight crimson gleam. Could that be why red is so prominent on me? Because I… harm ponies? Because I make them bleed, and die? No. That can’t be what it--
A sharp pain tore through my side; the only thing saving me from become bifold, would be my new leather barding. I was sent flying over, and above, the stairs. Tumbling down them uncontrollably. Upon reaching the bottom I noted several things.
I need to stop tumbling down stairs. It hurts quite a bit. And that I could see another bonfire far in the courtyard below, or was that some sort of atrium? It was open skies over there, but it had stone flooring. This place really confused me; flaw after flaw I discovered them as plentiful.
A howl from the top of the stairs took my attention away from the courtyard, looking to the screaming charging Knight. The Knight mare jumped from halfway down the stairs, or from my point of view halfway up. I looked for my longsword, with a fraction of a second to spare. I found it still clenched tightly in my mouth.
I readied myself as best I could on my unbalanced wobbly hooves. I was going to try and knock back the mare once again; or I would die trying, and if you ask me. I would prefer to live through this… if at all possible. The Greatsword was brought down swiftly from directly above the Knight mare.
My own sword darted up to greet the hungry blade at a near forty-five degree angle. With a sharp pain bursting in my mouth I wasn’t able to stop myself from gasping and crying out in pain. My sword clattered to the ground, the thick, large blade sank deep down into my left side, slowly slightly from my barding.
My vision blurred, blood trickled down past my lips. Greatsword Knight pulled the sword out, blood splaying the stairs and mare. I knew I couldn’t take another hit, and through my unsteady vision I saw another swing coming. I rolled under the blade, or I didn’t get hit… I wasn’t able to tell anymore.
Instead of reaching for my sword I dug out two throwing knives. Throwing them at the Knight mare. The tiny edges cut deep within her muscular armored body. A howl bellowed from the deepest depths of the Mare. She wobbled and dropped to the carpeted floor.
I levitated the Longsword sheathing it, once again. Pain blistering through my head the entire time I used my magic. I trotted over to the railing, clutching my head with a hoof, thinking to myself. “If I dropped off; would I survive?” Silly, I am just being silly. I must have lost more blood than one should.
I trot over to the end of the balcony the stairs land down to; a curve leading to another long balcony, but halfway between this curve and the far otherside another flight of stairs were leading lower. “So many stairs,” I croaked. I found that my voice was becoming more and more hoarse every time I… I died.
I hobbled my way toward the stairs to the next floor, keeping my weight braced on the railing. Step by step I moved closer to those stairs. My eyes hazy, head pounding. Closer to the next set of stairs I moved; that is until the world toppled over, and I with it. Down I fell, I didn’t even feel the impact of the ground before I was gone.
--^You Died^--
“That’s it,” I croaked. “Time for some sleep.” My voice raspy and pained. I found that every breath was taxing, slow yet pained, but most importantly heavy. I curled up next to the bonfire feeling its warmth spread across me, and I closed my dreary eyes. I felt myself falling, but once that passed I drifted along a river of fire and blackness.
Author's Note
I was originally planning on having Fallen Darkness get to that second Bonfire, but I felt that an immediate boss fight for the next chapter didn't seem all that grand. ^^
I'd like to thank the creators of both franchises; From Software for creating Dark Souls, and Hasbro? for creating Mlp:FIM... well I'll just thank Lauren Faust... it will be easier. Until I can figure that one out. v.v
