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