Rise [Edited]
Chapter 1: Rise
Equus. When most people think of this world, they think of as most would, Equestria, the predominant kingdom of the world. The land of the ponies, for which its name was based from. With its world renowned mountainside capital of Canterlot that is home to the Royal Pony Sisters, Luna and Celestia. With its marble spires and arcane linked architecture, or its hub of industry and commerce Manehattan. Renowned for their magic and their control that even was over the very weather, a feat near unknown by most other nations, and of its lands that span most of its home continent, or its northern hemisphere continent, its frozen mountains of the north, the desert and badlands along its southern and southwestern that formed a border between it and the southern hemisphere that was home to the Zebra and Elephantine nations.
But not all stories, nor ponies, live and take place on this land, For their influence and traces of them can be found everywhere even across the seas. Even in the Gryphon Kingdoms whose lands almost touch Equestria's by way of a land bridge, to the southern wild continent known as The Fringe.
The Fringe. Also known as the Wildlands in some areas, it is a strange and mostly unexplored place. It was a large continent that took up a large portion of the southeastern hemisphere of the world. The kind of place where somepony goes to find a new life, hopes to find a new destiny, is exiled to, or to do things that in some areas are frowned upon or taboo. A land of thick shadowed forests, deep twisting caves, and towering mountains over winding valleys and rivers. Even in these lands, ruins of old kingdoms, some being pony, some of other cultures, could be found. This is where our story starts, in a mountain range covered in pine forests, And it starts... With an earthquake.
Now an earthquake, while not unheard of, is rare in the tamed areas such as Equestria, but regardless, the world is alive, and it shows this in the wildlands of The Fringe. And when they do occur, It's not uncommon for old and buried secrets to come to life. This is what happens on this mountain, which had hidden an old fortress, almost 500 years old.
It was clearly pony-made, but just in the shadows of the chambers and the architecture. unlike most pony structures, which tend to be of white stone, or whitewash and timber and with sloping roofs or arching windows, this was a place of death and decay. Sheer walls of blackened stone, motifs and symbols were carved to make most living things avoid it, striking fear into them. There were unglassed windows, that caused the wind to moan and scream like sounds as it rushed through the empty halls and rooms. Most of it contained the catacombs of numerous desecrated bodies, the remains of the thefts from graves by a necromancer, whose thirst for power drove him from the civilized lands of Prance, a smaller pony nation bordering the Gryphon kingdoms. But before his army could be raised, to be used to vent his fury and vengeance against those who drove him out of his home, he in turn was killed. Choking on a bit of apple oddly enough. And that's where his body stayed. Slumped on his throne in front of his enchanting table in his chambers that resided atop the catacombs. The only thing remaining by this point were his dusty bones and old cloak of black and grey.
The chambers, and the fortress itself, were not made for the stresses of the earth moving. uring the initial shift of the earth the floor of the chamber broke open underneath the table, in the center of a intricate hexagram of sigils and runes, a purple crystal had rested since the death of the necromancer, his focus and channel of his powers and his controlling point of his soon to be minions.
Due to the tremble of the earth around and under the fortress, the crystal bounced, taking a journey through large cracks, and a number of chambers. Some contained old tomes, others the remains of an armory, one containing posters of a band called Dethhoof, and further down to the depths of the catacombs. Eventually, the crystal came to the end of its journey, as the earthquake subsided, its fury having been vented, by falling from a hole in a deep chamber. Its fall was short, the facets shimmering as it came to a landing into a hole in the chest of a cadaver where its heart should be, had it not been long removed. This Cadaver's body surprisingly preserved due to the runes and wards that the Necromancer had inscribed on the casket to prevent rotting of it and others before he could reanimate them.
Now this Cadaver had been stolen from across the seas in the country of Equestria, having died during a rogue tornado that slammed into it's home village at the coast of the shining sea. The cause of death, Impaled after being blown by the vicious winds. The left side of the poor soul's muzzle, from behind the chin and end of its muzzle to below its left eye, it's left arm from just above the elbow down, and the hole in it's chest having been ripped off to the bone, but the rest of its body in surprisingly good condition other than a few scars across parts of his body. To quote a popular story based off the archeological finds of ancient Zebra mummies, he was still "Juicy" so to speak. The only other main part of him missing was his eyes, having still rotted away before being preserved.
Now as stated before, the crystal that had just landed into the cadaver's chest was the necromancers focus, as such, it held his power. Having landed in the chest cavity, and due to the sense of the necrotic tissue around it, the crystal started to glow, purple etheric flames sprouting from it, as the magic drew in strands of tendon and vessels to grow and cradle the crystal, becoming the new heart of the cadaver. A pulse of energy surged through the cadaver as the magic in the crystal started to flow through its cradle, causing it to jerk suddenly. Slowly the neurons in its brain starting to fire from the energy pulsing through the cadavers body. Pale purple flames form in the the orbits as the eyelids blink out the dust followed by a sudden cough, a plume of dust and cobwebs from a colony of spiders in Its right lung. With a lurch, and a few loud pops from its spine and joints from having been static for so long, the form lifts up slowly, Its mind slowly trying to sift through what remains of the memories that was stored in the cadaver's brain. With a dusty, whisper like creaky voice, sounding like wind and leaves rustling in a storm, the vocal cords having long been unused, a single question was asked..
"Where am I?"
Author's Note
Soo Here it is. The start of a story by me. Comments and constructive critiques are welcome, just dont be rude about it is all. Im new to writing, to telling stories. It was one of them ideas that was in my head for a while.
