Chapter Seventeen: All Dreaming Rejects

Luna once more touched down upon the grassy hills that made the great, mental landscape within Rising and the Legion, she looked around and watched many of the humans that inhabited the Ever Rolling Hills. Some were sleeping in various positions that felt comfortable to them while others sat around in small groups, deep in discussions that often went spiraling into different languages the mare could not understand. Snippets here and there she could hear and understand a word or three, but none of them made enough sense to piece together what the topics were.

Her eyes slowly drift left and right, the mare feeling content with seeing the great plains of vibrant green. The sense of eternal serenity permeated her. Soft “wind” rustling the grass blades, stirring some of the hair of the strange humans and giving lift to Luna’s mane and tail, a subtle feel that seeped, silent in telling how unneeded it was to be swept by the unfriendly tides of life and time. Eternity need not be seen dull nor cursed, but simple freedom from urgence.

Perhaps this might explain how easily Rising lost track of time in debating here, Luna mused. Time felt as if it had little need to be here ... . Might he excuse her for wanting to come back?

The human, whom she had seen during the one week of Rising's awakening, appeared through her peripherals with little warning. She had merely turned her head in one direction for him to simply be there, as if there were a momentary lapse of sight and forgotten when he stood there, his arms behind his back and waiting patiently. Whether it was due to all the times Celestia or some of the ponies in Canterlot had snuck up behind or beside her, Luna was able to have some sense of pride that she didn't become so startled by his appearance.

The human gave a small smile to one side of his lips as he gave a soft jerk of his head towards the white marble tower, "Come along, Princess."

Following closely behind, Luna continued to look around at the other humans, some having chanced a glance to return her stare, holding it for but a brief thought before returning to their discussions. None betrayed any thought or emotion towards her, leaving little more but a feeling that they were acknowledging her stares and little else.

As the two came closer to the white tower, Luna’s gaze rose, watching with growing awe and amazement as the tower seemingly climbed, higher and higher. It never seemed to stop even beyond out of her sight. Even with clouds thousand leagues high or only within a quick flap of her wings wrapping around or drifting by, there simply seemed an ending to it.

"Princess." Luna's attention snapped back to Rising, who stood by the base of the tower as if he was about to open a door, "This way, if you would."

She would have asked how precisely there would be a way to enter the tower, as there did not seem to be any door, regardless of how Rising held a hand against its side. Would there have been an answer, but instead the man spoke no more and turned his head away and did once more something that should never have made sense.

Rising pushed against the tower and 'opened' a way, disappearing inside the Tower all while the tower’s walls remained solid and unmolested, leaving no ripple nor indication that the tower had registered his presence. Like a ghost that had misguided a lost pony through a haunted building, Rising left Luna to stand dumbfounded at what was witnessed. Before long, his foot disappeared within and left the mare alone.

Luna blinked as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. There surely must have been some sort of 'door' as Rising had pushed something with his hand before he phased right through the Tower.

She trotted nervously closer and placed a hoof against the 'wall' and for a few seconds felt resistance, feeling solid marble hold itself against her hoof before suddenly giving way. The sudden sight of seeing her hoof disappear made Luna give a start and took a few steps back, her eyes slightly wide.

Luna was no stranger to such spellcraft illusions such as these. Afterall, she had been known as the ‘Princess of Illusions’ by her school peers as a filly and had made similar methods as fake walls such as what was in front of her. However, what lay in front of her was a truly solid tower of marble. No magic or any sort of indication could have implied the same method of entering such a creation as Rising had done earlier. None of it felt like illusion spellcraft or some sort of visual illusion.

The mare cautiously brought herself to the face of the Tower again. Hesitantly, she placed a hoof against its surface, feeling once more the cold, solid feeling of polished stone. Upon placing pressure, Tower resisted her once more before giving way and allowing her hoof through, nearly destabilizing Luna and almost falling forwards and through.

Princess Luna gave a nervous breath, uncertainty plaguing the mare as she slowly pushed herself forwards into the Tower, fear and hope battling and screaming behind her ears on the thought of the walls electing to take that one horrible moment to return to solid and deliver either a gruesome fate or render her helpless as she moved through it.

A shaky breath caused Luna to pause for a moment before her head moved through. Just before her muzzle touched the tower, Luna closed her eyes and braced for impact that never came. Her fears expecting the tower to suddenly become solid once again, either harm her or imprison her in the worst of ways. Such an experience felt as if the mare had truly trotted through marble and stone.

Her eyes were closed, and yet her travel through the stone felt as if Luna walked in with eyes wide open. Luna could see and almost feel the white metamorphic rock, the veins of light gray and black crossing the mare’s body and eyes. Darkness took dominion, and quickly did it arrive and establish itself. Luna thought she had entered a dark cavity of the marble that it took several steps forward for her mind to realize that her travel had already ended. The Princess of the Night’s trot came to a full stop as she racked her mind wondering when did the marble end as her eyes flew open in surprise.

It took Luna a moment that felt far too long for her to realize what had happened as her eyes beheld a massive, massive library. But what caught the mare’s eyes the greatest was simply that: Shelves. Shelves of towering heights that held greater dominion that even the proud libraries of Equestria and Saddle Arabia would feel inadequate in. Shelves that spanned far upwards inside the Tower. And what method that granted access to those shelves was vast expanses of stairs, platforms, ladders and bridges. They crossed and spiraled within the Tower that went in every which way and direction, seemingly giving the promise to all who entered that they would access every single book that filled this vast, labyrinthian shelves.

Humans could be seen, whether as small as a speck of movement or those passing by her, traversing up or down, across ladders and ladder bridges, perusing through a shelf before placing a hand over a book and either reading its title before putting it back, or opening it and staring at its contents.

And there, standing just ahead of Luna was Rising, the slight smile of amusement upon his lips as her reaction was slow to what was before her. His eyes of pale green held a soft glow, like the filtering light caught by dust through an open window. The sense of timeless patience could be perceived from his posture as he awaited the mare, breath was slow and measured, his thumbs placed within his pockets and leaving the rest of the man’s hands to hang limply from his body.

Luna could not but stare at him and the library in awe, "All this ..." She muttered, "What are all these?"

"You stand within and before the Tower of Eternity, good mare." Rising stated in a reverent tone, "Here in its base, to the tallest heights lie the memories of the lives of all you have seen.”

His arms and hands slowly spread, like a great bird opening to demonstrate its impressive wingspan, “Here, stored within its walls are memories that contain who we are, what we are, what we dreamed, what we want, what we wanted, and what fate and our Lord had in store instead."

"You're trusting me to know of this place?" Luna nearly whispered, her legs locking in place as her eyes spanned upwards, nearly seeing the endless expanse that trailed into a dot of darkness that the mare could not perceive, “You would lead me here and see everything rather than deliver what you wanted me to see?”

Rising’s eyes blinked once as the glow in his eyes dimmed but a little as the man relaxed his arms, “A step of faith and trust. But it is a step. To peruse our memories is not yet given to you so willingly. Memories are a closely guarded and sacred aspect to us, let alone to any living being. They reveal far greater than what words or physical conveyance ever could. Perhaps in time, and perhaps with your sister.”

His head moved slightly, the glow of his eyes returning with the sense of stern warnings, “Even then you will not find freedom to choose as you wish. Some you must ask, some you must provide reasons as to why you seek theirs. And some will not allow you, even in the most dire of times and their memories alone could save Equestria, not even the offering of your soul will sway their stance. Understand such boundaries and do not breach them.”

His eyes softened, though his glow did not wane this time as the man brought his hands together with a soft clap, “Come, our goal lies not far from us. Stay close to me, as it is very likely you will be lost in this “labyrinthian” as you so put it.”

Luna could do little but stare at Rising with bafflement and shock as he began to one flight of stairs she hadn’t noticed before. She had not expected him to give words of possible encouragement that she and Celestia might be given the allowance to return and learn more of both Rising and the Legion. She hardly blamed him for giving warnings about how limited access would be... Though ... How was it he knew she had seen the Tower’s inner workings to be a labyrinth? Was her mind as easily accessible to the Legion as it was with her being led to a memory?

Seeing Rising up several more steps and the echoing chuckles of some of the nearby humans brought Luna to shake her head and race after him, a feeling of perturbation passing through her mind and “body”.

Following behind the man up a flight of stairs that soon met one wall of shelves before splitting into two, the Princess chanced a look across the books that occupied almost her entire vision. Many of these tomes and “chapters” of the lives of Rising and the Legion maintained a single color of muddy bronze. Some were highlighted in a navy blue, and even as Luna turned her eyes to ensure she was still with Rising a few books changed colors before her, either to indicate something of importance for the Legion to look through or reference. Strangely enough, none of them held any titles nor words placed upon any of these memories.

Perhaps it was because the Legion knew their memories by heart, Luna mused to herself as the two followed along the stairs that ringed the walls, the occasional path splitting towards the center of the Tower. After all, who else would peruse through their library of libraries, locked within a mental landscape? Though perhaps that may end up changing should she earn the privilege as Rising said.

It wasn’t long, just as Rising had said when they came to a stop with another human. This man held perhaps a slightly more pale skin than Rising, but was dressed in a suit of plate armor wrapped in bands of silky red cloth. Around the waist where his legs began and his shoulders were billowing pockets of the cloth, seemingly exaggerating their size. A rather clean, bushed mustache so similarly small and thin in comparison to Reginald’s adorned the man’s face. He held within the pocket of his right arm a curious helmet, almost like a pointed bucket that swept into two sharp points, and along its top was a comb-like metal crest. Within the man’s left hand was a book, colored in navy blue.

Rising moved towards the older man’s side, turning around and addressing Luna, “If you may, Princess.”

Not understanding what he had meant, Luna moved only a little closer to the armored man and took a look at the offered tome that he stretched out towards her. Much like every other book Luna had seen, it did not hold any name or title across it. In fact, it didn’t even possess a picture to detail or give a hint as to what contained within. After seeing the book of memory come closer, Luna could only guess she was meant to hold it, whether in her hooves or by her kinesis.

Doing so, the Princess lit her horn and gently picked up the book, noting its hardbound covering that almost seemed to be made of brightened buckram, as if it had recently come away from a bookbinder’s workshop. Yet despite expectations that just touching or holding the book would activate something, Luna could only look back with puzzlement. The two men said nothing and offered no advice, seemingly content to staring steadily at her with impassive patience.

Hesitantly, Luna brought the book to open before her, its binding strong with very little sounds of creasing. To her surprise and slight disappointment, the pages contained no words or depictions. But no sooner had the mare opened the book and stared at how little to nothing there was, a sudden change took place over Luna.

The air swirled around and between Luna, darkness and color passing over her sight, under her legs, and through her wings and mane. The great library, Rising and the armored man passed away from her sight like gossamer fabric caught in a wind, and were no more. She could only look on in amazement as the miasma took hold and seemingly cocooned the Princess as both memory and dream took shape before her.

The very first feeling that assaulted her body and to the very roots of her mane was a great heat. Not the dry heat similar to the Badlands, nor the sweltering heat of the Dragonlands that held the throne land of the Dragon Emperor.

No, as Princess Luna’s eyes began to adjust to the blinding light, threatening to take her sight even if she had shut her eyes closed, this was the kind of heat that sought to consume and reduce anything in its presence to ashes, then reduce the ashes to nothing. Even now, Luna felt that her body would disappear in an instant and leave nothing left. The world around her became a living tartarus, the lava of all the volcanoes that the Princess had witnessed could not compare to the “land” of brilliant yellow and moving heat beneath her silvered hoof shoes.

Then came a comforting cool as Luna turned and saw Rising coming nearby, the armored man following close behind, “What is this place? Tis’ a wasteland of nothing but yellow fire and heat.”

Rising came to a stop by her side as the armored man continued, “Because this is not a land of any type or kind you would find. Admittedly, we are far from where we should be. However, context is required in order for you to understand what you will see, Princess.”

A great presence was felt by Luna’s back. A sense of great light was the first feeling across her back, bypassing her physical flesh and almost by an unsaid command brought forth memories. Memories that contained small and large moments of time where Luna had wronged another pony. Her lies, her thefts, her insults, her arrogance... And it all culminated to the moment Luna had thrown everything away in becoming Nightmare Moon... And all the harm she had done to Celestia...

Luna’s legs fell and gave away, weakness plaguing the mare as she was reminded of these memories. The small moments and memories brought feelings of foolishness and embarrassment, yet the greater things in the Princess’ life brought the undenying feelings of shame and sorrow. Not for having remembered them, but rather for the mere fact they had happened and she was guilty for doing such things.

The light remained as came fire, greater to the wasteland around her. Its heat pierced through her as light had done so before. But rather than bring memories, the fire brought pain. The small memories of her guilt burned as if she had brought burning coals to her very flesh... . The memories of her lies and harm, however ... .

The mare fell to the ‘ground’ as tears poured from her eyes as the pain threatened to reduce her to nothing.

Time and space suddenly halted as distance brought Luna away from where the memory started. She heard voices, but she could not comprehend them. The pain still remained as her eyes had been shut the entire time, her memories of all the small and great things Luna had done unto another pony coming to the forefront and demanding her utmost attention in remembrance.

Luna did not know how long it was until the pain cooled, the memories fading and her tears running dry. But at last they did, and the mare could hear her gasps. She could feel the presence of another that felt comforting as a familiar voice reached the Princess’ ears, “Forgive me, Luna. I did not realize that even by memory our metaphysical form remained potent to another mortal life.”

She again did not know how long, but Luna did recover as she slowly brought her hooves underneath her, “What ... What was that? What happened to me?”

“A partial, but nonetheless the utmost of what we are if we remove our physical body and manifest it. Many within the Heavenly Kingdom can exert and reveal ourselves into the physical world. However it is often ill-advisable to ever do so because of what our mere presence can do upon both the living and reality around us. What happened to you is what happens to anyone that comes into contact with such light and fire at their utmost.” Rising looked up over towards the light and fire that Luna could feel. It was far lesser than what she had experienced, but the presence and form that Rising spoke of was still there.

Luna was able to amble onto her hooves and looked around. Instead of a miasma of light, fire and colors of orange and yellow, there was now a starry void. Stars twinkling here and there, freely and uncaring to the going ons in the memory. Looking away from the calming and distant sights, her eyes elected to drift towards the source of what had caused her such painful emotions and terrible fire.

Her jaw nearly dropped to her hooves as terrible revelation ran down the mare’s spine like lightning and ice. It was so odd to her that they had begun the memory-dream in a world as hot as Tartarus, but now having put distance between such a nightmarish realm the answer couldn’t have been more obvious as to where Luna had just been.

And now, Luna could quite confidently speak to her sister and anypony she wished what walking upon the very surface of a sun was like. Celestia could certainly describe what it felt moving the great ball of fire was like, as was her charge and duty. But to stand within it and live to speak of such an experience?

A sudden flash of brilliant white and Luna’s attention and thoughts came to a halt as her eyes flickered towards where she thought the flash had occurred. The “sound” of something banging echoed to the mare’s ears and a slight reverberation pulsed from the sun.

And then another, where Luna could see the sun not only pulsing with a reverberating “wave” but a ring of light coming from the star as another “sound” and flash of white came from it. A rhythm was occurring on its surface where the armored man beside her and Rising was in this dream-memory.

The overall sight of both the sun reverberating in light and “sound” only left Luna confused, uncertain as to what precisely was happening down on its surface. Most certainly there was a rhythm that could be discerned, but it still left the question of what was happening, and due to her ... experience with just being in the same presence as whatever had affected her, there was no way to go and tell.

The rhythm of light and ‘sound’ came to a stop, causing Luna to nearly not recognize its absence. Then after several seconds, the rhythm began again. It was only after a few intermittent pauses did recognition widen the Princess’ eyes.

This was the sound she had often heard coming from Guided Steel, a blacksmith pony that both the Night Guard and Royal Guard were often customers of to repair their weapons and armor. The ‘sound’ she was hearing was akin to a metal hammer banging away at another piece of metal. Whatever was going on down on the surface of the star, the armored man was making something.

Princess Luna couldn’t turn her head quickly enough towards Rising, the more familiar face between the three in this memory.

She didn’t expect needing to verbally ask him, as one of Rising’s eyes locked onto her and gave a nod, “Yes, Belmonte was indeed making something in that star. That something would be the key to both his path towards incredible, and untamed power. Ordinarily, metalsmithing was simply that. Crafting things out of metal, ranging from weapons and armor to kitchenware and jewelry. What is happening down within that star is metalsmithing empowered by both our entrusted power and the magic that exists within this dream.” His expression turned dour as the rhythm continued, “Two things that perhaps should not have been brought to union.”

“Two things,” The armored man, now known as Belmonte, countered back. His voice a soft rumble as his eyes never strayed from the star, one of his hands raising as a brilliant band of light, gold, fire and above all else power formed on one of his fingers, “That had to be brought into union. Within this ring I wove my life and the very fabric of reality into it. And into this ring, I poured my ruthlessness, His power and my will to guide both Light and Life.”

Rising’s eyes briefly flitted towards Belmonte before returning to look upon the star.

Belmonte did not let such a look go as his own eyes were brought to bear and gaze at Rising, “Still you act high and mighty over my decisions, Successor?”

Rising did not lock eyes to the man, “We have had this discussion before.”

“Yet you still believe I was in the wrong.” The armored man’s voice was flat, though a tone of angry accusation could be noticed, “You still believe I should not have used our power in this dream.”

“You know full well why.” Rising’s eyes finally turned to lock with Belmonte’s, “Creating a ring such as this, and tying it with your life and the very fabric of reality as a method of ‘adaptation’?”

Belmonte’s body gave a turn as he confronted Rising, “You say it so easily when this dream did not function so similarly to how life had been before. Magic was in this realm, boy. Magic. The very same magic you bring her here to see. Fantastical creatures and the likes of entities we never dealt with even as far as the Bronze Collapse. This was my dream, and I adapted accordingly.”

The memory froze as both Belmonte's and Rising's attention turned upon each other. The armored man gave a daring and angry stance towards the younger male, his mouth twisted in an impetuous frown. Rising's own position was a calmer but nonetheless equally angry, his eyes narrow and a more moderate frown on his lips.

Rising was the first to begin with a dumbfounded tone as Luna found herself in what clearly had been a heated topic, "Adapted accordingly? You call all that you did here," a sweep of his arm towards the frozen sun, "accordingly? Abusive clairvoyance, twisting and manipulating the bureaucracy between both of the mortal factions, using our power in endeavors that the mortals could have accomplished with the same result, and let's not even begin with the results you ended up with in vassalizing the Naga Empire to your will."

Belmonte's anger rose at the mention of this empire Luna had heard nothing about as the armored man took a step forwards and placed a hand over his chestplate, "What the Naga ended up doing was neither my design or intention, they chose to enter slave trading, they were the ones that began to develop such a taste for it, and I could do nothing but tolerate it because of all they had been through. Me turning against them and meddling any further would have sent them to the Old Gods' grasp, letting anarchy take every coastline for decades to come," Belmonte's hand reached over and prodded Rising's chest, emphasizing with each word, "and you know it."

Rising didn't push away the finger, but his own retort nudged the armored man back, "And who was it that thought he could change them? Who was it that thought he had enough agency in the world that he could do just whatever he wanted?" Rising began to move closer as he confronted and nearly went nose to nose with Belmonte, “Who was it that made the Naga believe you were a god?”

"And who was it that held not a single dream while the rest of us lived through our own!" Belmonte countered, "You speak highly for someone who didn't see and decide their own actions." Luna nearly believed that Belmonte was about to attack Rising, as he brought his heavier weight and height against the younger male, “Hijo a puta, the Naga came to believe me an agent of a god, never did they start praying and worshiping me as one.”

“Explain the statues!” Rising’s voice became louder and echoed across the emptiness of the memory, his head giving a small glimpse to the left alongside his arm waving over towards the same direction, bringing Luna to believe that she was now seeing just how two or perhaps more of Rising and the Legion argued. Needless to say, it seemed to resemble a lot of what had been considered “debating” back in the early years of Equestria’s birth.

Belmonte was quick on the explanation as his voice rose in both volume and echo, his own stance in a defensive exasperation, “Four statues, all located and in a building that goes over my achievements during my tenure in Azeroth is suddenly considered idols meant to be worshiped?”

“Considering there’s one particular memory here,” Rising countered, immediately grabbing the ‘wheel’ and giving a hard yank and spin, sending the world and universe into a fast forwarding frenzy around the three as Luna watched mere glimpses of Belmonte’s travels, deeds and adventures across this ‘Azeroth’ that he had mentioned. Though due to how Rising had brought the ‘wheel’ of time to spin, Luna couldn’t make sense over what she had seen and even short term memory wasn’t capable of registering what had occurred.

Time stopped as the world was plunged underwater, the sun glistening and giving rays of light dancing from above as Luna quickly observed what and where they had arrived at.

It was so much like the dreams of Ponlantis she had seen in some of the ponies before her banishment. Exotic, nearly similar Roam-Gecko architectures that were colored in splatting, corroded colors of cyan and green populated much of the surface. Great trees of branching and colorful coral flourished and grew around or nearby some of these buildings, occasionally decorated with seaweed in an artistic manner. Sea anemones of beautiful designs attached to some of the coral reefs that provided shade from the glistening light of the sun as Luna’s attention drew to a predominant building that Rising and Belmonte had inadvertently brought her to in the midst of their argument.

Swimming, slithering and generally roaming around this mystical underwater civilization was surely the ‘Naga’ that both Belmonte and Rising had spoken of. And to Luna’s admission, these serpent-like creatures were not at all a pleasant sight; Bulky, thick and multi-armed and long-tailed, with muzzles that would give the Hydras in the Everfree Forest pause.

Then came the sight and design of such a grand building that reminded the Princess greatly of the Hall of Heroes within Cloudsdale, with grand pillars and bas-reliefs filling the outer walls, the reliefs holding depictions of incredibly strange creatures, some of them holding flaming wings ranging within numbers of two and six.

Time accelerated again as the three were brought inside the building. It was the interior decoration and the Nagas’ dedication to Belmonte that gave Luna a significant insight as to why Rising was so adamant in his argument.

Within the temple to Belmonte were great statues that were indeed positioned in four corners, however they depicted the man greatly, favorably, and lightly decorated in beautiful offerings. Two of them just nearby Luna held Belmonte in an unknown but intimidating armor with one hand over the handle of a longsword as it rested the tip of the blade just in front of the statue, while the other was holding onto the entrance of the temple, as if to indicate the two were holding it open, giving the impression that the statues alone were allowing people to enter and leave as they wished.

Around the walls of the temple brought great depictions and pictures, Belmonte holding dominance with his unknown armor on. Over to the left was him locked into a static sword bind with a steel and blue armored bipedal, what seemed to be depictions of ice and magic flowing behind the unknown while fire and light were flowing from and behind Belmonte as his sword seemed to have cut itself into his adversary’s blade.

To the right was Belmonte again, this time with some sort of spear as both he and the weapon were engulfed with fire and light. His stance and pose was akin to a Minotaur having just let fly a javelin, but instead of letting it go Belmonte had it kept in his hand. There was no depiction of whatever power both Belmonte, Rising or the Legion possessed released through the spearpoint as whatever was done into the side of a strange depiction of a dragon. The great scaled creature itself was almost made of nothing but fire and shadow as its horns seemingly glowed with flames, licking the ‘air’ within the depiction, as sort of purple magic flowed off of its wings and tail as it ‘flew.’

The strike that Belmonte had delivered into the side of this strange, short, front-legged dragon with his spear and power was a terrific blow. As from what Luna could see, the power that Belmonte possessed had pierced completely through the dragon’s torso, leaving a great hole and rewarding him with the dragon’s open maw of quite reasonable roar of terrible shock and pain.

And then to the very front of the temple, where a large goblet of an unknown liquid sat with the two remaining statues flanking it and an extravagant, coral and jewel decorated podium resting just above and behind the goblet. The two statues knelt, with one hand reaching out as if to beckon to place a hand, claw or hoof in either of their own, their eyes etched with firm, mute expectation.

Just behind the podium was light shining down from the surface of wherever this underwater city was located, glistening through a grand, stained glass window. To top off all that Rising had argued about how religiously set Belmonte had become by the Naga that they were talking about, the window was stained in a pattern depicting the man with a sword held down in one hand while the other clutched a circle with two long, green swaths on opposing sides of the circle.

Luna no longer wanted to look at the window anymore as the mare’s eyes locked onto Belmonte and began to listen to the argument once more. Rising had been incredibly animated while her attention was away, gesturing to the statues and the stained glass window, all the while Belmonte’s body had changed. Before, he had been stalwart and firm in his side of the argument, now in the presence of the temple that had been dedicated to him in religious fervor and painting him in such a high standing he was incredibly uncomfortable at the memory.

“— precisely is this not worship, Belmonte? They come here, not out of respect for a hero, not out of someone who led them out of the darkness. They come here to idolize and revere you!” Rising’s tone being harsh and exhausted of Belmonte’s attempts at explaining and stubbornly defending himself.

As Belmonte began his own retaliation, his eyes suddenly locked with Luna. The Princess didn’t know whether it was her aetheric mane fluttering slowly with magic, her presence a clear stand out from the background where both the men were at or because she moved around, but nonetheless it brought a sudden halt to the man’s attempts.

Rising’s head and body wheeled on the spot, his eyes wide and making it apparent how utterly forgotten Luna’s presence had become in their arguing. He did not immediately speak out with an apology or say her name, instead his eyes danced across the bottom of his eyelids. His head looking fully away from Luna while Belmonte gave a long sigh as his own attention went away from the Princess, neither of the men electing to lock eyes with her.

With all that had happened abruptly in her visit, Luna could see no other option than to bring the two back on topic with what she was here for, “I think I’ve seen well enough of the reasonings and issues that Sir Belmonte had in this strange world, though it wouldn’t be wise of me to say neither I or mine sister were strangers to being thought of as goddesses.”

Still without offering apologies or excuses, Rising’s arms raised once more to grab the “wheel” and revert time backwards and move the scenery around the three. This time they left the underwater territories and emerged out of an ocean before vaulting off towards another location, much slower than before and allowing Luna to note just how vast and expansive said ocean was.

As they traveled, Rising began to speak, his tone slightly hesitant, “The Ring that Belmonte made was an ultimatum to the many forces that existed within this dream. While Belmonte could physically die by any handheld weapon, sans poisons or curses or by an indirect method, the ring allowed him to return from the realm of death without issue and no one and nothing could stop or delay it. Should any force sought to try and destroy his existence, the ring bound to him would cease to exist as well, and through the ring, all of reality. Mutually assured destruction, on a scale no one else ever reached ... or considered.” Rising’s eyes locked briefly onto Belmonte as he finished, displaying a degree of contempt towards the man.

“Quite similarly to how a dreamworld becomes nonexistent the moment the dreamer wakes up.” Belmonte growled, his eyes and head still looking away from the Princess. With a small sigh he added, “Ironic, since this was a dream in the first place and I hadn’t known until afterwards.”

Rising did not comment or add his own thoughts to Belmontes, disregarding him to continue filling the Princess in, “The Ring’s creation caused waves and great deals of concern to all corners of Azeroth, the planet and location of Belmonte’s dream. It strangely didn’t cause him to be someone every faction sought control over.”

“Some of our theories,” Belmonte said, “was that the Elder Gods underestimated and didn’t see just how connected I was to existence. Either they thought I was bluffing, or thought that I would just be another easy to obtain tool...” The man gave off an amused scoff as his gaze returned to the environment around them, which began to show thicker clouds producing snow and the ocean below revealing ice.

“It wasn’t until a certain duel did Azeroth realize who and what they were hosting, as you’ll see in a moment. And it was the beginning of Belmonte’s rise to a prominent standing that the rest of us fear to become, no matter how well intentioned it was.” And indeed as Rising said, the world around Luna became colder, snow and ice began to appear far more frequently as their traveling path led the three to a heavily fortified and patrolled camp. Upon the walls were great numbers of bipedal races that Luna could and could not recognize, as some were visibly human in shining armor while others were some sort of variants that had different skin colors, height, ear shape or even difference in the shape of their legs.

However, this was not what Belmonte and Rising were focused upon, as the world continued to move until the three were placed within a large military-designed tent, surrounding them with more bipedal beings of various species and sizes, from an unusually and obnoxiously large Minotaur leaning upon a table to a human with obnoxiously heavy armor gesturing at a a map of the continent or island they were in, and several "army pieces" on it.

Luna couldn’t immediately make out what the creatures were saying, as they were muttering and either pointing to a specific part of the map or making vague gestures towards another part. Though what she could glean from their faces, whatever the situation they were in and trying to plan for was a grim prospect, whether they were struggling to form a plan involving the land they were on or some other issue.

The sound of the armor from two guards outside of the tent shifted everyone's attention, including Luna as another Belmonte entered. This one was differently armored from the more tame and somewhat fashionable armor that Belmonte next to her was wearing. This one was dressed in a more modestly sized, but still ornately designed heavy plate armor. One incredibly noticeable detail that stuck out for Princess Luna, other than how Belmonte’s armor wasn’t in ridiculous size, was that Dream Belmonte had two strangely curved metal “spikes” attached to his back. They were far enough apart that he could turn his head left and right without them presenting too much of an issue with his peripherals, though they only reached as far as his shoulders and were barely a few hooves taller than his helm. In fact, Luna could reasonably mistake the two metal attachments as some sort of symbol of a crescent moon.

Dream Belmonte stood quietly before the gathered creatures before the man at the table and next to the Minotaur spoke in a language that Luna couldn’t understand, though from what she could guess it was possibly a question or even an acknowledgement to Belmonte’s presence.

The Belmonte who had been by Luna's side for the duration of this memory spoke up, as if to sense her confusion to the context, "The man at the table is Tirion Fordring, and somewhat in charge over the forces in this camp. Why such a force is present in this winter wasteland is due to the presence and involvement of a Lich King, or rather a—"

"We are familiar with Necromancy, Belmonte of the Legion." Luna quietly interrupted the man, though she would not look at either Belmonte or Rising in the eyes after hearing the word "Lich."

Belmonte fell silent before continuing, neither asking why or what made her familiar with such a branch of magic, "This Lich King had previously been silent and holding back a destructive force for many years, however whatever had brought him to stir and awaken made him have no love to anything that was not under his control. Bringing a plague of death and disease that allowed him to raise the very corpses that died on a daily basis to drown the world, there wasn’t a soul who did not realize his presence, and they made to move past their conflicting interests and united to be rid of him. By the time I had arrived, plans and strategies had been drawn up on how to lead a spearheaded assault to kill him. Their plan at first was to throw twenty of their best at the Lich King alongside one of their great knights."

A closed smile formed on his lips as the scene unfolded, where Dream Belmonte spoke up and declared something that brought the entire tent to stunned silence, "A shame I ended up throwing a wrench into that by saying I alone would deal with the Lich King."

Luna couldn’t help but give a giggle, “T’was similar to when Starswirl, both mine and my sister’s mentor, had proposed us to the nobles as their diarchs. Though perhaps we were able to convince them better after we had retrieved the Elements of Harmony and defeated many enemies that had plagued us.”

Both Belmonte and Rising gave a wry smile, “Perhaps, Princess. However, I was an unknown being, easily mistaken as a mercenary ‘Adventurer’ to the people here, save for a few specific factions. Said factions had taken charge in being ...” Belmonte’s posture began to sway left and right a little bit, an expression of either doubt or uncertainty formed, “somewhat hands-off guardians over the entire world. They would maintain control over natural forces such as time, nature, or life itself, and sometimes they would involve themselves amongst the mortal lives.”

A small hum escaped Luna’s mouth as she turned her attention to the room, as the beings surrounding Dream Belmonte began to mutely argue, either giving vague scoffs at him or speaking animatedly towards him. It did not require any explanation to the Princess that Belmonte’s plan was not welcome and likely thought he was arrogant.

Time suddenly began to shift as Luna was brought away from the tent, causing the mare to turn and see Rising having his hands over the “Wheel”. He was spinning the “Wheel” at a determined pace as Belmonte spoke again, “You will have to peruse this memory and dream at a later time, Princess. Everything you saw was more or less meant to quickly establish the foundation and overall situation over our argument ... our own personal arguments aside.” Belmonte’s eyes flicked towards Rising, who did not deign any response.

"During my time here, I had decided it was wise to adapt and take up more abilities that this world had to offer. Taking up pyromancy, light manipulation and a fairly general used branch of lesser magic spells, levitation and the like. These sets of magic would allow me to have an easier time rather than use our entrusted powers as they come with sets, expectations and rules. This is the same decision that we as a Legion are taking up as an Equestrian Alicorn. Only this time, the ability to use Equestrian magic was not something we had willingly intended to obtain."

Luna's ears began to flick upwards as one memory recalled something earlier, "Hence why you said you had expected to be a Pegasus? Minimal magic outside of what you were already capable of doing?"

A smile formed upon both Belmonte's and Rising's mouths as the armored man gave a nod. The world around them became a great blizzard as mountains and glacial wastelands began to surround them, approaching a tall and imposing citadel of ice and blackened steel. They reached the peak of this foreboding citadel to be met with a flat plateau. The most prominent sight was the throne over this citadel. Its great glacial spikes edging the stairway to the throne, and from behind the ice-sculpted seat of power was a colossal glacier.

There, sitting upon the throne was a heavily armored figure. A being of cold steel, tarnished gold and almost exaggerating depictions of skulls upon the crown, stomach, knees and even the sword that rested its tip into the ice. Power of an unknown dread leaked through the eyes of the being, the depicted skulls upon its armor and weapon.

Luna could already sense and tell, without even needing an introduction to who this was. What Belmonte had spoken about of the Lich King, she felt she had underestimated the depths that this being had become. Thinking briefly back to her initial thoughts, Luna couldn’t help but wonder if this Lich King was worse than the far more familiar Grogar, what with his lichcraft and demonic sorcery.

“We’re not familiar with that name, Princess.” Came Belmonte’s voice, interrupting the mare and causing her to spin around and look at him with wide eyes, “But the creatures that the Lich King here created, summoned, and brought into existence to plague Azeroth and all that lived in it, as well as his ability to curse the physically living into a state of undeath with just a cut of that sword in his hand, this ‘Grogar’ would likely have appeared infantile, in comparison.”

The sound of metal boots crunching against the ice brought their attention away from each other as the Dream Belmonte walked slowly towards the foot of the throne. His armor was not as polished nor clean as the man had been when he approached Tirion and his ‘generals’ as Luna had guessed them to be. Instead, blood and melting ice splattered across almost the entirety of him, save for his helmet. While the ice was cleaning off some of the remnants of battle, it still did not give any illusion that Belmonte had fought through whatever was housed within the citadel.

Both Dream Belmonte and the Lich King did nothing for the moment other than to stare at each other. A distant draconic roar and the brief sight of an undead dragon’s wings with ice coating the majority of the tail as it dived out of sight, a slight tremor shook the citadel not soon after.

Though Luna had wanted to see who and what that undead dragon, she would be unable to take the time to see what was going on as the Lich King began to stand.

His voice was a rumbling echo, whether it was magic giving him this additional effect to the Lich King’s voice or some other element causing this, Luna didn’t know. As another dull sound of thunder made the citadel shake, likely the battle of the twenty heroes against the Lich King’s undead dragon, the armored enemy spoke, “And so the Light sends its vaulted justice, or perhaps its arrogance if it would only send you.”

The Lich King’s helm tilted to the side, as if something amusing came to mind, “Or perhaps you are here as a messenger, calling me to lay down Frostmourne and throw myself down at my executioner’s mercies?” Then he tilted it to the other direction, a far more crueler tone of amusement creeping in the edges of his voice, “Or did you come here to seek my mercies? To become my champion in hopes of escaping the doom that awaits you all?”

Dream Belmonte did not reply to any of the questions, though from where Luna could see as she turned towards him that the man was planning and plotting underneath that blood and ice painted helm. His hand tightening and relaxing on the grip of his greatsword and his foot occasionally shifting ever so slightly.

The Lich King seemed to take notice over the lack of banter that Belmonte was not here for either of what he said, and it certainly didn’t seem like the armored man was interested in talk.

“Arrogance it is,” He rumbled, whether in offense or pity.

With that, the Lich King was the first to initiate the fight. Through either magic or some other means that Princess Luna didn’t know, he flew down from the throne, over the steps and charged headlong with his sword raised for a downward strike.

Belmonte’s response was a simple sidestep from the Lich King’s attack, the smaller in size greatsword raised in an equally simple stance.

The Dark Lord gave a quick glance at Belmonte before giving a rising slash as he moved to press the offense, relying mostly upon the Frostmourne. Once again, Belmonte dodged the attack, letting the strike slide off his own weapon harmlessly. Strangely, he did not counter or press his own attack towards the necromancer, seemingly content to dodge, block and give ground towards his enemy.

Confusion set in with Luna, and likely the same with the Dark Lord as the fight continued. From all the fights that the Princess had been a participant in, they had been similar to dances between attacks and defenses, usually with an end goal of finishing the fight through differences in strength or experience.

And yet, Belmonte seemed content to just defend and observe the Lich King’s offenses, even when spells of ice and shadow were hurled upon the man by the hand or blade of the Necromancer. Blasts of magical fire and light countered and dissipated, but Belmonte didn’t send any magic back to pursue.

Such passiveness didn’t last long, however. After another strike coming towards Belmonte’s side was blocked with his greatsword pointed down, a sudden shift had come over the man and did not waste a single second in his counter-offensive. As one of Belmonte’s hands moved from the handle to grasp his sword just above the guard, his shoulders lined up and his left foot slid backwards before giving a strong heave against the bind.

Now with surprise on his side, Belmonte wound the tip and upper blade of the greatsword around, preparing to drive the sword from tip to guard into the Lich King’s neck. Had it been so easy, as frost magic formed around the Lich King. His form shattered into ice crystals and reformed into physical form a fair distance away from Belmonte.

It was there and then Luna's eyes widen as she realized that for much of the fight, Belmonte had been patiently learning and planning. Rather than put every effort to clash and overwhelm the Lich King as she had found as a favorable tactic over fighting champions or leaders, Belmonte aimed to simply take the Dark Lord apart, as said necromancer raised his sword and summoned several undead wretches that nearly caused Luna to react with her own magic.

A sudden hand on her side stopped her, and after seeing Rising nearby with both a shake of his head and an expression of amusement. Remembering where and what she was in, Luna reluctantly let the magic building in her horn fade away as Dream Belmonte raised one spare hand as both the Ring in his finger glowed. Within moments and two small rolls of his hand, flame magic formed at a terrific rate and focused into a single point between the pointer and middle fingers, to which Belmonte gave a wide sweep towards the undead ghouls.

A long blade of flame launched from the two fingers and cut down the gathered ghouls with minimal issue, though by the time it reached the Lich King it splashed harmlessly against his armor.

With another roll of his hand, Dream Belmonte unleashed a gout of flame behind him and using the spell to launch him forwards and skated with the icy ground to close the distance, readying the greatsword to thrust.

The Lich King raised Frostmourne to beat away the thrust from the thinner greatsword and tried to stab Belmonte in return, but the man’s momentum across the ice was enough to let him slip away. With another burst of flame and another charge, Belmonte’s hand grasped the bare metal between the two parrying spikes and guard. Instead of a passing strike, Belmonte slammed against the Lich King, binding and winding Frostmourne around to either ready a thrusting strike into the unprotected parts of the Dark Lord’s armor or rip his cursed sword away.

However, the Dark Lord was not so easily disarmed or foolish enough, and with undead strength he pushed back and forced Belmonte to give ground and prepared his offensive, giving slashes and thrusts at the man. Despite the greatsword being thinner, Belmonte seemed to have no problem using it to parry and block the enormous Frostmourne, letting his armor take hits and let the cursed sword’s edge slide and skate safely.

With a frustrated growl, the Lich King gave another heavy slash that resulted in shoving Belmonte a fair distance before spinning Frostmourne around and plunging it into the ice arena, causing the snowing environment to intensify into a great blizzard that blinded Luna from seeing almost anything, including the two men beside her.

The sound of metal banging against each other echoed loudly enough to be heard over the winter storm, indicating that dream Belmonte had continued to fight under the poor conditions, leaving Luna with nothing but imagination and blinded vision to know what occurred.

The storm would not last for long however, as a glowing spot of light erupted some ways to Luna's left before the blizzard was suddenly blown away by a great impact of heat, the colors of red and orange and sound.

Her eyes were drawn towards the source, Luna’s mouth parted open as the feeling of awe and fear consumed her, seeing a mountain that had exploded into a fully active volcano, its rock and ice peak turned into falling meteors as the blizzard fully died out, lava already having taken advantage to flow as freely as water down the mountainside.

With a clenched fist and the ring glowing brightly, dream Belmonte stood still briefly before giving a two-handed swing with his greatsword against the now-revealed lich king who had previously been preparing to strike at the man from behind and to his right, the sword beginning to glow with fire. Having not expected both the volcanic eruption and sudden strike, the Lich King was pushed back after several more heavy-handed strikes that were uncharacteristic of Belmonte’s previous tactics.

The surprise did not last long either, for the Lich King brought down Frostmourne into a bind that allowed him to spin and disarm Belmonte of his greatsword as the cursed sword would’ve bitten into Belmonte’s hands.

With a cruel and victorious laugh, the Lich King raised and brought Frostmourne down upon Belmonte, preparing to cleave him through. Luna gave a terrified gasp as her horn once again began to glow in preparation for saving Belmonte from what would have spelled his death.

The sound of somepony clearing their throat came from beside her as the world suddenly paused for a brief moment, causing her attention to turn and see both Rising and Belmonte with the same amused expressions. Giving a grumble over forgetting she was within a memory and a dream, Luna's grasp over magic lessened and returned to watching the memory resume.

Whatever Luna had thought that dream Belmonte was vulnerable was dashed away as the armored man brought up both the heavily armored parts of his gauntlets into a cross. The metal gauntlets just below the wrists crumpled but held only enough for Belmonte to shove Frostmourne aside before closing in to grapple.

Without his weapon, Belmonte settled for the next best option by bashing one gauntlet against the Lich King’s helmet while wrapping his other arm around the necromancer’s sword-wielding arm, preventing him from using the weapon. Belmonte began trying to move one leg around behind the Lich King, who had begun to stagger backward over the surprising assault of closing the distance and resorting to fist-fighting.

Upon getting his free arm to stop Belmonte from continuing to bash his helmet in, the Lich King was wrestled to the ground with Belmonte straddling on top, one knee pushing down upon the arm-wielding Frostmourne. Now left with a second free arm, Belmonte swatted away the other arm and proceeded to beat down upon the helmet, flashes of light and fire impacting against the Lich King, who was still recovering from the assault.

This lasted as long as three full punches before the Lich King dissipated into snow and shadow, teleporting himself a fair enough distance away from Belmonte, though the impacts alone were still enough to cause a slight stumble.

Belmonte got up quickly, locating both his greatsword and inspecting the damage to his gauntlets from what surely was an impulsive gamble. Seeing parts of jagged metal from one gauntlet, the man proceeded to rip off the straps and toss away the gauntlet, preferring not to risk cutting his wrist.

Roaring in rage at the impudent and still not falling being, the Lich King brought his sword up high, then down into the ice as he casted the one spell that Frostmourne never failed to take down even the most stalwart of mortals.

The memory supplied all that Luna needed to know that underneath the armor, Belmonte was taken by surprise at the massive buildup of frost and shadow. Knowledge whispered to her from the memory of the man that the spell would indeed kill him, if Belmonte did not act quickly.

And quickly did he indeed, as time began to slow. The greater and important details were revealed to the three viewers as the Princess saw flames take hold of Belmonte’s body at a rapid pace as he abandoned any thought of charging in and trying to race against the impossible. Instead of moving forwards, Belmonte went on the back of his heels and bounced away, buying him sufficient time.

Fire and light took hold of his body, disintegrating it into nothing ... Or it would seem to those within the memory would think that Belmonte had erased himself utterly, electing death before servitude as the Lich King had sought. To Luna’s eyes, Belmonte had instead let fire and light consume and erase his physical body, letting the soul escape past the threat of death and into what Luna could only describe as a ‘realm of light and shadow’. In this realm, Belmonte seemed like a bright star, far brighter than any star that Luna had seen before as the Lich King’s spell passed over the arena where the two fought, its target missing and thus the Fury of Frostmourne was denied as the undead looked around in confusion, his helm swiveling this way and that in quick fashion.

Belmonte did not hesitate as he moved. He did not move with his legs nor did he bring forth wings to glide him to the desired spot. No, the bright star that was Belmonte stood still as his soul’s body slid across the surface of the ice and brought him to the very back of the Lich King.

Then a great surge of power, light and fire similar to before came again. Luna gave a yelp of panic as she felt her guilt and memories begin again. A hand found its way to her shoulder and brought her attention to Rising, who gave a returning look of support and comfort, wordlessly telling her that the pain was lesser than what the mare experienced before.

And he was right, as Luna looked back and took account of what was happening. Instead of feeling great flames devouring her, her guilt and memories threatening to drown her, Luna felt instead as if someone else had been bringing up the embarrassing past and the fire was instead a subtle feeling of the wish to not exist in the moment of those pasts being brought up. A feeling that Luna could ignore as she began to push her attention back onto the memory of Belmonte.

Belmonte had raised his sword upwards to prepare a devastating downward slash, the surges of power, light and fire taking formless shapes of wings. Luna called such a sight as formless, as she could not see whether the wings were made of feathers of fire and light or instead were stretched out like leathery skin similar to the Thestrals.

Regardless, the realm of light and shadow that Belmonte had taken shelter in faded, and no sooner did he return to the physical realm did the Lich King realize and react. A great and audible gasp came from the undead as he brought the cursed sword to bear and block the downward strike, already seeing how it was too late to exploit the dedicated attack as it sought to cleave the Lich King from the nape of his neck down to his hip.

Time seemed to slow once more as Luna saw the great wings of fire and light pour out from the tips and into his greatsword, enveloping it with the entrusted shard of power from Belmonte’s Lord and Creator.

Their weapons came into contact as time resumed its normal pace. Streams and lines of magicka, fire, and light splashed from the contacting point of the two swords and arced away. The great lines of energy began carving, slashing and burning into the ice arena around the two combatants. The great throne and its towering spikes of ice was not safe from such a barrage as scorch marks gouged paths, water splashing down and pooling into the small rivers.

Luna could naught but watch in awe at the spectacle. Belmonte was pressing everything he had into his greatsword and upon Frostmourne, while the Lich King struggled to recover enough to bring forth spells that would blindside and win the battle. The undead’s free hand sacrificed to keep the blade up against the strike, prohibiting him from casting. But all he needed was a moment, where Belmonte’s last strike would falter.

Unfortunately for the Lich King, he would not find that moment. Three seconds into the exchange and Belmonte’s greatsword had regained its bright glow once more, focused on the contact point where Frostmourne was meeting the weapon. Then the dreaded cursed weapon of the Lich King shattered.

The blade fractured into thousands of pieces and flew to embed themselves into the ice all over the arena, as Belmonte’s empowered greatsword pressed through, and with Frostmorne’s blade gone there was nothing left to stop its path, and the Lich King’s armor could do even less than the blade had in holding back the sword’s bite, as Belmonte’s power could never be derived from magic. Belmonte achieved his threatening downward strike as the Lich King tried to stumble backwards as great billows of fire and light passed through his now bisected body.

Yet Belmonte was not finished, as no sooner did the blade embed itself into the ice between him and the now finished Lich King, the man lunged. His hands reaching out, one finding its way to the Lich King’s throat while the other grasped the undead’s missing half.

With a great roar, Belmonte poured fire and light into the undead’s body, swiftly consuming the now vulnerable insides almost no differently than how Luna witnessed some carnivorous creatures consume the insides of a crustacean. During such a process, Luna could feel the power of the Lich King being consumed and converted, leaving little doubt to her mind that Belmonte did not seek to just burn the undead to a crisp. No, this was him taking the Lich King’s power and magicka for himself, burning whatever might harm him away and consuming what remained.

The fire and light, having found everything Belmonte sought from the defeated undead swiftly left. Great gouts of power returned to their master as the man let go of the two halves of the undead and allowed them to fall to the ground as his head tilted to look upwards.

Luna turned her gaze from the now victorious Belmonte and towards the same man who was watching with a dispassionate gaze, letting questions form in her mind and believing that either Rising or Belmonte would answer.

With a side look from the human, Belmonte was the first, “Upon victory, I stripped the Lich King’s powers from his soul, some of them I took as my prize. His powers in cryomancy and shadow magic for starters. However ...”

He paused, letting his dream-self demonstrate as a terrible beam of power was released from his body and sent into the skies above. Luna’s attunement to magic made her skin crawl as the unforgotten touch of necromancy, chaos and several unknown powers that she could not identify but still brought chills into her body and soul.

A full minute would pass before the powerful pillar dissipated, and Belmonte began to speak again, “While I had taken the Eye of Acherus’s power for myself, I did not take up the power of necromancy, as it was already an affront to use such abilities as corrupting as that field of magic was. Frostmourne’s power was shattered, and the armor could not be salvaged ... That helm, however.”

The wicked helm still remained upon the Lich King’s head as Belmonte slowly walked towards it, the point of his greatsword twitching, as if eager to plunge into another victim that dared to defy and stand against its wielder and his desires.

A pained, ethereal voice called out towards Belmonte, as if the very effort to call out had brought terrible harm to the owner of such a voice, “Stay your hand, Belmonte of Light!”

Both Luna and the Dream Belmonte turned their attention towards the throne that the Lich King had once occupied, and with a cry of horror from Luna did she see a still living, still breathing and still burning body of the unrecognizable human sitting upon it.

What could only be considered a seared and still burning corpse raised his voice again, his voice in a hushing crust of ash and fire, “Your intent and deed would have been noble to the lives in Azeroth. But it would cause greater damage than you could undo. The curse of the Lich King is cyclical and eternal, and without the Scourge’s master they will become restless and plague the world forevermore.”

“Bolvar Fordragon,” Dream Belmonte nearly muttered as he approached the burning body, “you survived after all ...”

“For worse and perhaps for better, powerful one.” The now identified burning man rasped with something that resembled amusement, “But I must ask you. The world of the living can no longer comfort me, Belmonte. I cannot return even if you were to heal all that has been done. Let me give one last act of service to the world, and place the crown upon my head.”

Though Belmonte’s helmet made it impossible to see his emotions, Luna thought that his response would have been to furrow his eyebrows and give a frown as he ascended to the foot of the throne, the helm of the Lich King in his hand.

“Must this be, Bolvar? What of your old friend, Tirion?” Belmonte asked, a tinge of hesitancy edging his voice, giving well enough implication to Luna that he still thought that destruction of the helmet would be better.

“It must be.” Bolvar insisted, “It hurts that he could not be here, that he still believes that I had died long ago. But it is better if he believed I died fighting than see what has become of me.”

For several moments, Luna wondered if Belmonte would ignore or disregard the intending sacrifice. As his behavior and decisions regarding the Naga seemed enough to think that he would take such decisions into his own hands.

But instead, Belmonte turned and gently crowned the helm over the burning man, the fires within him converting the cursed armor. As Belmonte began to step backwards, ice began to form around the newly crowned Lich King, his voice becoming clearer, harsher and more ethereal, “Tell no one of my fate here, Belmonte of Light. Let me be forgotten, let the world forget the Age of Terror that Arthas Menithil had brought. Tell them only the Lich King is dead, and Bolvar Fordragon died with him.”

Once Bolvar’s body was encased in ice, Belmonte turned away and began to make his journey back towards the united forces of Azeroth. It was easy to tell in Luna’s eyes and thoughts that the man had agreed to those commands as he faded from view.

Princess Luna’s attention turned to both Belmonte and Rising, “While dangerous to consume and take the powers from a fell being as a Lich King, I do not see where your thoughts on hesitating and reluctance towards Equestrian magic lie. What was done here surely was of mythic legends and a great triumph, and despite the secret to hide away the fate of both this Bolvar and him being a replacing Lich King, it does not seem to correlate to your ... godhood to the Nagas, nor the point of this memory.”

Both of the men’s expressions were dour as Rising replied, “As Belmonte has said before, here in this dream he took the time to adapt and gain power from multiple avenues. He didn’t merely take what was needed, but what gave him both powerful and versatile options.”

“I did more than that.” Belmonte rumbled, his face turning away, “Don’t play coy with the Princess on what happened during my tenure here. She doesn’t realize what I became at the end of this dream.”

A slight moment of silence came and went between the three beings before Belmonte turned once more, facing Princess Luna. His expression became a curious sight, having a ghost of a smile on his lips while something lingering edged his voice, “My triumph over the Lich King was certainly a celebrated occasion, I initially wanted to limit my interactions with Azeroth. I gave wisdom to those who came to me, and I gave a direction of where to look when those feeling lost came to me. Some of the guardians and overseers gave their approval over my decision, as I had sufficiently demonstrated myself to Azeroth. Not that I needed the approval of others.”

Belmonte’s expression started to fade into apathy and indifference, “After Deathwing and a few other events that I was drawn into, I realized that my involvement with Azeroth would not be so limited as I and others would have wanted. And so I adapted, and applied more of myself within Azeroth.”

Luna could only watch with a growing sense of fear as Belmonte’s armor began to change. Flame cloaked and licked away the fine armor and fur, revealing blackened armor arrayed in a fashion similar to the scales of dragons. As he spoke, Luna could see within his eyes a growing fire of satisfaction. The eyes that began to give licks of fire as he continued to speak, “With every page of knowledge of magicka gained, I grew in power. The dragonflights held fear of me, knowing that at any moment, I could turn and become another force the likes of which they could not withstand.”

The fire was reaching past his waist, a black and billowing cloak fading into existence and came to rest just shy of his armored shins. A shining bright light began to appear upon one of his fingers, drawing Luna’s gaze for a moment and recognizing the very ring that brought Belmonte to his infamy, “With the death of the Lich King, no longer could Azeroth afford to ignore me. My words could not be smothered by even the most proud Orc or ignorant human nobleman. With every achievement from his death onwards, my presence grew upon Azeroth. My desires guided my hand in introducing weapons into the world. Weapons the likes of which many could only dream of wielding as I became the force of change and evolution.”

His voice grew smug, the lights of his eyes lavishing over his deeds as Luna felt fear creeping like ice down her spine. She begun to step away from Belmonte, “No longer did Azeroth stay stagnant, no longer could they afford to employ the weaker and fallacy of the old tactics. No longer could the Adventurers skirmish or fight off entire armies, as they’ve always done. Not even the forces that held sway over the planet, not even Azeroth herself could contain my presence as it changed the world. Innovation, invention, industry, progress, and advancement came to the minds of mortals.”

The fire had now passed his shoulders, the armor giving Belmonte a human-dragonic appearance. As it finished passing over the man, his helm covering his face and leaving only the glow of fire from his eyes. The helmet covered his mouth and jaw as beautifully swept horns of gray and midnight appeared over the top of it, delivering a beautiful and terrible sight of Belmonte as he towered over the Princess. His voice now a deep rumble of mountain and metal, “By my hands, mages of all aspects delved into the mystical deep. Alchemists, enchanters and blacksmiths found their methods expanding, discovering how they could combine their skills. And as Azeroth grew from their discoveries, so did I. As their powers varied and reached far, mine grew off of them. The many guardians who had been charged in maintaining Azeroth found they could not resist the tides of change I brought about as I walked across the planet. And they were left with an irreversible choice by me: Adapt and walk in the wake of my waves, or be affected by entropy and become respected relics clinging to the past.”

Belmonte’s voice purred, the soft rattle of his breath against the metal as he maintained a gaze over Luna. The mare’s ears were almost flat against her head as she drew closer towards Rising in hopes of shelter from the armored tower, “And I fondly miss it, Princess. Some of my thoughts linger over this dream, idly am I drawn to wondering what next I could have given, how far was I from becoming the highest power. Where none, not even the Old Gods, could stand against me as I led the Golden Age of Golden Ages.”

“A thought that still brings shudders to the rest of us, Belmonte.” Rising’s voice cut through the silence and darkness, bringing the armored titan to a halt as he gave an unknown look towards the man, “And not merely for the fear of what destruction you could wrought or what the aftermath of your defeats would have been, but rather for what our superiors and our Lord would see you for.”

With an unknown wind, the power and fearful presence from Belmonte diminished from the three. Snuffed as quickly as a candle, his blackened and draconic armor turned to ash and dissipated, returning to the far more modest steel breastplate and colored cloth. Belmonte’s shoulders were low as he merely turned his head away from Luna and Rising, his expression nearly unreadable if not for the traces of resignation seen in his eyes.

Rising’s eyes turned towards the Princess as she gave a shaky breath, “Uncontrolled and unrestrained, Belmonte achieved greater powers than even we would’ve allowed. Now do you see why I am hesitant on learning Equestrian magic? We fear both myself and ourselves of growing too far in strength and power, to where we could conquer all life and with no one to stop us. Our hearts and minds growing more certain to listen to our own judgment rather than listen to mortal life and those ‘lesser’ than us.”

The dream-memory began to fade away as the Tower of Eternity took hold over Princess Luna’s vision, both Rising’s and Belmonte’s wish to let her see the Legion’s reluctance now complete.

Luna’s response was muted, as while seeing again the great library within the Tower was still amazing to her, the recent memory dive had left much for the mare to ponder over. And certainly much of her experiences would be shared with her sister over this new perspective revelation.

Her eyes were first drawn to the carpeted floor before the weight of her thoughts and considerations brought Luna to look away towards one part of the Tower’s circular wall. Now knowing that Rising and the Legion were hesitant, reluctant and close to unwilling to partake in Equestrian Magical lessons ... it was hard for the Princess to not fault them ... .

“I ... will need to consult with my sister over this.” Luna finally spoke up, her eyes moving towards Rising, as Belmonte had started to walk away. His expression hidden from her as the mare continued, “As much as I can see why you would not want to wield magic, it’s ... hard to come to fully agree on letting the matter be.” Rising didn’t argue or raise his voice against Luna’s statement.

“With that said, there still may be some lessons regardless, Rising.” If Luna’s ears were sharp enough, a part of her could’ve sworn there was the sound of a slight misstep from Belmonte’s footsteps across the ground floor of the Tower, “Equestrian magic is connected and a part of you and everypony else here. E’en with mine sister’s experiences in Equestria while I was in exile, rarely if ever there was a pony that willfully stopped using magic so completely. There is more to this than I speak of, if only because I cannot recall them fully and there is much I and mine sister need to discuss.”

Silence began to reign over the Tower as Luna couldn’t find what next to say regarding the memories she’d been shown. Neither did it seem that Rising had anything further to add which had not already been said, and such silence would remain between the two before Luna’s head shook slightly and she began to get up.

She locked eyes with Rising before giving a polite and respectful bow to her host, “I thank you gratefully for sharing this dream-like memory, Rising. As well as allowing me into your mind, that I might understand thine trepidations with regards to learning our magics. I think it’s best I return to mine own body, as you’ve given me a great deal to think about.”

Rising only gave a returning and respectful nod.

Author's Note

This should never have taken this long... At all... In fact this should've been done two months ago...
I also don't think this should've gotten this long wordcount-wise. Welp~
Slight edit made~

Still, I've finally gotten through everything that's delayed and stalled me out, and now I can move on and actually get the story to continue without constantly looking here and either suffering the burn or the block.
And just after Halloween as well, tbh I had intended this to be posted on Halloween, but eh, holidays are holidays.

Anyway, to explain a lil bit about the whole fight, consider it a directors commentary:
The entire point over the memory was demonstrating that where Rising is requires him to automatically adapt, which is what happens with each being in the Legion undergoing a dream of sorts, they've been placed in situations and worlds that require them to take up differing adapting stances. With the WoW-dream, Belmonte had to take up the high magic-fantasy around him or otherwise get overwhelmed or taken by some of the higher powers and end up constantly having to use his powers as a crutch. Especially as I've established Rising and the Legion as people who would rather figure out ways not to use reality-bending powers and work smarter, not harder or lazier. The ending to the fight with Arthas is one of those moments where Belmonte was literally stuck with a moment of "oh hell, that can and will mess me up if I do not pull off some angelic-4th-dimension-warp-dickery rn."

On to the fight with Arthas, btw... tbh, I had the whole thing just be a offline doodle before reaching to this and the previous two chapters. Who knew that doodling off on a doc would end up being used. And funny enough, I even made a few snippets of Belmonte's involvement with Dragonflight.

So with the fight as it is, I elected to Belmonte's overall strategy since he decided to do the "let me solo him" tactic was to avoid getting nicked at all. Due to the Plague of Undeath and how it's set up, I honestly wasn't certain what it would actually do to someone who flits back and forth between the physical and spiritual. To try and apply Plague of Undeath is... a bit vague. So I simply opted for Belmonte to go with "just don't get hit".

Now, why did I write that Belmonte would win in the fight and giving a reason rather than leave it as "because im the writer" or "because its a dream and I get to dictate it".

The first and foremost I can give is simple change of tactics, where in WoW there's a lot of writing/playstyle where its "high valor, high face-tank, lots of swords pushing against each other and give your enemy your best GRRR face, and over-reliance on armor and healers (physical or magical)" where as with Earth its "high cunning, plenty clean and dirty tricks, high intel gathering, high mobility and Git Gudtm". With how lethal Arthas has always been tends to make you take a lot of pre-plan and consideration, even among the raid parties in-game.
Which can be boiled down to the funny: "He's just built different"

I won't deny I did get inspiration from DeathBattle. In fact, I think I took Sauron as a main inspiration with Belmonte's little moment of taking the title as Warcraft's "Lord of the Rings" and with the rendition on the One Ring. That and I did get a slight armor inspiration watching the duel between Mithrax and Eramis.