Heir to the Shadows

Chapter 13 - Zeccaran’s Gambit

It took a while for Zeccaran to find himself inside the Astral Realm. Too long. Sure the familiar rush of dream magic was there, so too was the feeling of weightlessness. However, the plane-between-planes that he commanded was a black, starless night. For the briefest of moments he expected Nyx to suddenly spring from the void he stared at and chastise him for taking so long to find her.

When she did not appear a vacant loneliness pierced his heart. The sensation lasted for but a moment. A trifle really, nothing he could not handle, not when he had work to do that was for certain. Regardless of his resolution Zeccaran could feel his physical body shake. That was not supposed to happen. He fell to his flanks looking around the vacant void, his emotions causing explosions of red and yellows to suddenly appear about him.

“Ahhhrrgg! I can’t believe I’m fucking doing this!” The zebra yelled to himself.

A part of him simply could not believe that deep down underneath all the posturing and anger Guardian Angel was a broken, sad, soft, foolish stallion. It drove Zeccaran mad. Maybe the demon had not come out and said what he felt, or why he struggled to think or act, but he knew. Zeccaran knew, Zeccaran understood. However, now was not the time. Gusty needed Guardian Angel to act just like he always did, hell the whole world needed it. He would, but it frightened the zebra to see the situation bring forth such raw emotions from his counterpart. It left him numb and furious trying to focus his mind enough to pull the myriad of doors to himself.

After a few moments Zeccaran centered himself and a grand parade of minds poured by him. Slowly, the procession came to a halt upon an unfamiliar portal. He had summoned Gusty’s mind, but this? This was not it. At least he hoped it was the wrong door.

The normal ancient and mossy stone gateway was replaced with a dark void. It was still roughly shaped like a door, but it seemed to ooze and pulse with some sort of malignant power making Zeccaran recoil on reflex.

Equally appalled and curious the zebra stood up from where he had fallen on his rump. He had to go to the evil portal. There was no choice. It was time he played his part, whatever that would entail.

Zeccaran pressed a hoof into the undulating mass of dark fleshy stone once that he was close enough. It obeyed his commands rapidly, as if it expected him to attempt to enter the disheveled mind of the alicorn mare. It was a trap, he was certain of it. Just like the last time the Curse had captured him. He had quite the score to settle with the Shade. She would be just as trapped as him this time. Then down he fell. Sucked deep into the void of nothingness and shadow that was now Gusty’s mind.

When his hooves touched the floor of the mindscape Zeccaran had to force his lungs to work. He did not truly need to breathe in the Astral Realm, but the vileness of this place made him require the sensation. He could feel it on the very fabric of the mind-land. It was completely corrupted. The breathing was to steady himself against the terrible alien nature of what was once Gusty’s mind.

“Damnit, Nyx! Where are you when I actually need you?” He hissed to himself.

Before Zeccaran stretched the ocean of memories and pillars of protected memories that was Gusty’s mind. However, there were no vibrant blues and shiny golds. Everything was cast in dark colors of the deepest purple, blue, or black. The great pyramids and eddies of friendly voices now were a malignant bramble of strange trees and crumbled, terrible ruins. An alien miasma of dark grey smoke seemed to move around the area in front of Zeccaran and occasionally obscure the different pulsing trees and other filth.

He could make no sense of this awful place. There was nothing he recognized. If this was truly Gusty’s mind Zeccaran had no idea where to even start to look. The sight left him numb. He felt more scorned by the moment, slowly turning from listless to worried. It was better than being dead, but that was all that the zebra could confidently confirm.

Awkwardly, he stumbled forward across the oscillating ground, coming to a stop every few steps. It was necessary. The world, this mindscape, was unnatural to the point it took most of his willpower to remain steady. However, as he slowly pushed forward towards the dark forest he gained his bearings. His hooffalls cast an echo that would mute itself after a single ring. It kept him unsettled even if he could properly navigate this foul realm.

As he moved the grey mist followed. Its presence almost seemed benign. A prickly, mostly stupid, section of his mind mused that perhaps he had seen it before. When Zeccaran paused to examine it to alleviate the thought he recognized that the stray thought was correct. It was the same muffled grey light that always occupied the deepest of Gusty’s subconscious. As he realized this the fog rushed towards him causing him to gasp and shut his eyes. It felt cold and lonely within the wet cloud, leaving him to shiver.

The sensation passed quickly, prompting him to open his eyes. Zeccaran did not see the mist. He looked around and found nothing. It was a strange moment. With a final glance around the little clearing and finding only the baleful trees he moved on.

Cautiously, Zeccaran cast several protective spells. His green magic formed a soft glow around his striped body. A low wind whipped across the dark forest and he paused.

Then he heard it. A quiet whimper, just on the edge of his hearing. It seemed to resound across the vast corrupted woods. The grey mist returned, but was spread out all over, gathering in little eddies that populated the spaces between its branches. In a sudden rush of wind the sound of desperate voices speaking too rapidly to be understood burst into his ears, angrily assaulting Zeccaran’s skull.

On instinct he fired more protective spells Luna and Nyx had drilled him to cast. The voices’ volume lessened but did not go fully away. The grey light around him slowly manifested into a single form, moving towards Zeccaran. The zebra turned and ran away from the form. Hopping over slimy branches and dodging great moaning shadows, hoping the next eddie of grey light would hold Gusty upon the all too familiar grey dias.

A long and lonely groan rumbled behind him, and Zeccaran could not stop himself from looking over his shoulder. A pair of glowing eyes had formed within the angry grey mass of voices. It overcame him shooting past him and colliding into the many dark trees. There it disappeared, the area where it impacted quavering as if it was affected by a frozen wind.

“Searching for the dead in this land of twilight?” The Curse’s voice echoed calmly around him, causing the zebra to stop in his tracks. At least it did not sound like Gusty anymore.

New eyes, many pairs of them appeared within the mass of one of the black tree trunks and scrutinized him. Each he could recognize, their irises the colors of everypony he cared about. Eagerly, the disembodied eyes stared into his soul. It filled Zeccaran with a boiling rage. Turning away he refused to look at the illusion. It was only there to manipulate him, to cause a reaction, a negative one at that. The Curse would feed on him then, just like it had fed on Gusty for over a millenia. He would not allow that to happen. Not like last time.

“I know she is not dead. Where is she?” He asked angrily. It was more to distract himself from the feeling of failure that tugged at his heart.

“Am I not good enough?” the Curse answered.

Slowly, the myriad of eyes pulled together into a single, terrible, baleful pair. Then as if prompted by their assembly, the pulsing shadows around them started to push and pull out of the strange tree where they lay. Assembling into a single shape, they pulled away from the dark forest in a great blob. The shapeless form slowly took on legs and wings. A horn poked from a growing head and quickly a mane and tail donned the top and back of the shape. Disgustingly, the creature vibrated with rancid magic and began to change color. Eventually it settled on the teal fur and the seafoam hair of his friend. Thus a broken form of Gusty stood before him, but it was like it wore a veil. Her face was frozen in a false-smile, like she was using a theater mask. The Curse slithered up to where he stood making Zeccaran recoil.

With an instinctual burst of his magic the zebra created a barrier between himself and the beast that wore the alicorn’s face. It tutted in Gusty’s voice in response, exploding around him in an inky coordin, obscuring Zeccaran’s view from the ruined mind-scape.

“I will find her,” He snarled. “I don’t have a choice.”

“But, I’m right here, Zec!” The Curse replied with a long cackle.

An idea came to Zeccaran at that instant. What if the Shadow-kin’s Mytsn was telling the truth? What if it and Gusty were truly one? The dark magic he possessed flared up as soon as he had the epiphany. It nearly acted on its own, responding to his musing thoughts more than his will to take action.

It was insane. A stupid and ridiculous idea that relied on the Curse telling the truth. Who else but Zeccaran would believe such a thing? The zebra reveled in the moment. Around him another mind-dive spell gathered its power. The evil beast saw what he was doing, but it was too late. The spell fired.

The magic shot directly into the Mytsn’s chest. Around him the dark forest faded away and he was tossed down. But he did not hit the ground, instead he went deeper. The strange warped reality he had been in disappearing completely replaced by only the roaring sound of wind. Amongst the voices and raging weather Zeccaran heard Guardian Angel scream at the Queen of Fire. He scoffed at himself. The demon was right. He was too lucky for his own good. The sensation of falling took him and Zeccaran nearly passed out.

In the edges of his consciousness he felt the dark Shade approach him. When her power had fully gathered near him, she attacked him. The Curse assaulted all of his senses and his mind frayed at the edges. The winds of the Astral plane rumbled and the sheer stress of the situation left him immobile as he disappeared into the deepest reaches of the abyss that was Gusty and the Curse’s mindscape. Then suddenly, as if his opponent could no longer attack him, the pain in his head ceased and was replaced by a simple numb void and he kept descending unabated.

Hours seemed to pass as Zeccaran fell forever. The blackness of the environment slowly turned grey, then white. He had no idea how far he kept falling. He only knew that when he could comprehend himself again the world was pure white. Looking around, the zebra was certain he had died until he again heard Guardian Angel’s voice.

“Gusty! Please! Wake up!” The voice came from somewhere in front of him.

Squinting, Zeccaran looked for its source. He saw what he thought was a pony, but it was not the demon-stallion. He had no idea if what he saw was real or if this was indeed the subconscious of Gusty Twilight. At least the cries of desperation from Guardian Angel felt real, real enough that it might have been the stallion trying to force a psychic attack in the real world. Zeccaran could not be sure, however.

Desiring an answer the zebra broke into a full sprint towards the pony he thought he saw. It was as if the ground below him did not move and he did not get closer. In frustration he fired his magic and in an instant he was right next to his quarry. With a gasp he realized who he had found. Gusty.

The alicorn did not turn towards him. She panned over screens that he had not seen at the distance, searching through them. The white void around them and the zebra’s presence was of no consequence to her and she flicked through the images and sounds with a strange purpose. It was much like Luna often did before they would interact with Gusty’s subconscious. Now the mare was doing it to herself? That should not have been possible. Shocked, Zeccaran just watched. His friend paused on a vaguely familiar scene as he did.

“Mom, is it really important that I get married so soon? We are all immortals around here.”

It was the voice of Amber Glass, Gusty’s youngest daughter from before the war with the Shadow-kin. The brown alicorn appeared on the memory screen, sauntering around a pillared room. Her soft tones sent an unpleasant shiver along Zeccaran’s spine. How many times had he heard that mare scream in agony? With a shake of his head he took a few steps forward. Before him the grand screens rumbled past and Gusty shifted away from her long lost daughter.

There were other ponies and many memories that Zeccaran did not recognize as the alicorn would stop for about one second per image. Her mind was far more familiar with the myriad of faces and voices that passed before her eyes than he. However, the zebra did recognize Ashijinir, although the dragon was no bigger than Gusty in the memories.

Disturbingly, he did not see the present. The sheer volume of the record that was Gusty’s mind could have easily prevented Zeccaran from spying the recent years. However, their strange absence was wrong. Gusty had constantly obsessed over the last three years. He had learned that simply from working in her mind. But he did not see Bunker, Amethyst, Celestia, Luna, himself, Stiff Inspection, Gertrude, Gabriella. None of the major players in their lives since Zeccaran had met Gusty appeared. The only one he had any evidence of was Guardian Angel, and he had only heard him not seen him in the images. Honestly, he now thought it for certain the stallion was actively trying to call out to Gusty, right now, as he fought her darkside.

It's just because she’s looking at the past. Calm down. He thought to himself, again.

He did not convince himself.

“Gusty! Please! Wake up!” Came Guardian Angel again.

The reel of images paused on an inflamed demon. Zeccaran instantly recognized where. The Frozen North, the gaping lava pit, he would never forget the horror of watching Gusty destroy tens of kilometers of the planet's surface. The disturbing sight perked up his hopes. Perhaps Gusty was not as damaged as he had worried.

Still silent, Zeccaran watched as his accomplice streaked through the sky, dodging massive blasts of magic from Gusty’s perspective. The memory wavered its clarity. On the edges of his hearing the zebra could hear the Curse. It angrily demanded the demon be killed. The alicorn in the memory obliged with more explosions and more cracked ground. The sting of sulfur hit Zeccaran’s nose. Smells were always the strongest part of any memory. The Gusty before him simply hummed, seemingly confused.

As they continued to watch, Guardian Angel slowly reached Gusty. He kept calling out, first pleading then demanding she survive. His eyes glowed red with his dark power and the image completely tottered out of clarity and was simply a dull brown and grey gradient of nothing. The voices of the Curse quieted too. Before him the mare of the subconscious relaxed her shoulders, leaning back as the memory made the soft sound of a heartbeat. From his angle to one of her sides, Zeccaran could see her smile.

“You are going to be the death of me, you know that?” the demon-stallion murmured gently over the sound of the heart, his voice calm and happy.

Zeccaran could hardly believe how soft and comforting Guardian Angel sounded. He paused as Gusty rewatched the moment again. Dread filled the zebra, but he realized now was the time to speak. If the Curse had damaged her, this moment would be the only one she could retain. It was the moment she and Guardian Angel’s mind had briefly, but completely, become a single entity. And Zeccaran had every confidence that angered the dark Shade. Even if she continued to torment all of them, even if she won, the happiness that Gusty had for that fleeting moment was permanent. If only that tiny piece of the demon-stallion was stuck within her subconscious, it did not matter. So how lucky was he? Could he do the same and cement Gusty in the present long enough for Guardian Angel to help pull them into the waking world? His voice wavered as she spoke.

“H-hey?” he asked for his friend's attention.

The alicorn mare hummed and turned to look at him. She squinted confusedly.

“Who are you?” she asked, plainly.

Zeccaran’s stomach went cold. Suspicions confirmed he swallowed the lump in his throat. As much as he wanted to ignore the evidence. This Gusty was not who he had seen so many times in this very subconscious.

“I-I’m Zeccaran...we’re friends.” He stammered in a combination of sadness and fury. It must have been what Guardian Angel had been feeling. The combination of defeat but determination handle the unthinkable, Zeccaran understood now.

A vacant expression overtook the alicorn’s face. She tilted her head slightly, as her brow came together and then returned to neutral.

“I-I don’t remember you.” She answered. Her face was sad but ultimately she became reserved and calm. Turning around, Gusty resumed her viewings.

Unsure what to do, Zeccaran stood frozen. Vaguely he could even feel his actual body buck from the emotional blow. If he had been powerful enough to fight the Curse of the Shadow-kin the dark beast he would have made it wish it had killed him when it had the chance. This was unacceptable. He had to tell Guardian Angel that they could win. Even if that meant they would suffer. The zebra stopped his mind from sparing a thought for Amethyst. Zeccaran seethed regardless. Slowly, he began gathering the magic and the thoughts necessary to send out some sort of mental beacon. Nyx had once said he had the gift to do anything in the realm of the mind. Now he was going to try, no matter what happened to him as a result.

“Do you know who he is?” Gusty suddenly asked, drawing him out of his concentration.

“Who?” Zeccaran asked numbly.

“This stallion. This...demon? Why would he save me?” The mare pointed at the memory of Guardian Angel again.

“I know him, yes.” The zebra looked down at his hooves. He could not look at his friend for the moment.

“And why would a demon, your sworn enemy, save you? That answer is complicated.”

Gusty hummed but did not question him further. Lost and feeling alone even in the presence of his friend Zeccaran watched the alicorn for a moment more. The silence was heavy and he struggled to focus on trying to summon up the magic he had felt only a few moments before.

“Can you simplify it for me?” Gusty asked without turning around.

The zebra bit his lip before responding. Not that his answer would do her any good.

“He is bound to you. His fate is tied to yours.” It was the most Zeccaran could say. He did not understand the strange mental bond the two immortals shared. Not even Luna did.

Again Gusty merely grunted in thought, returning to her silence and scrutiny of memories.

With a sigh, Zeccaran made his attempt again. A little determination, the image of a flare high in the sky. The dark magic he had gained long ago in his past life answered his call. A beacon he would have, Guardian Angel would know where to go. It was not a certainty, but it was now all faith and luck. And he was lucky right?

The power pulsed in his body and the sensation of floating overtook Zeccaran for a moment. The green force of magic created a shell around his body and he was ready to both signal his accomplice and escape this place.

That was when a cacophony of angry whispers crescendoed out of the silence and drew both he and Gusty’s attention. As they both looked towards the random white space where they were the loudest a terrible ripping and sawing of canvas replaced them.

A black seam appeared in the mindscape before rapidly expanding into a round portal. With it came dark tentacles of foul magic. The Curse had found him. It would seem that his beacon was working

“There you are, little zebra!” trilled the Shade as it strode into the realm of its own mind.

“You can’t hide from me. And talking to her will do you no good either. She sees and hears only what I wish her to. After all…”

The horrid dark shadow morphed and formed into Gusty. With a shake of its head and an audible crack of its neck she grin hungrily at him.

“We are one in the same. There will be no changes to our memories. And your little distraction has failed too. The Usurper will prove no match before our combined might!”

“Yes, good to see you too, my friend!” Gusty sprang up from her spot and gave her false-self a hug.

Whatever the Curse had fed her ears was not what Zeccaran had just heard, that was for certain. Frankly, the zebra felt a powerful nausea come to his stomach that threatened to derail his attempt to escape. He realized what it was: Fear.

If the Cursed Shade of the Shadow-kin had such control as to apprehend his invasion at the same time as fight Guardian Angel it was over. The only chance they had now was the other stallion throwing everything he had into one last mental attack. It had been their last resort too many times. Somewhere in his soul the zebra knew it would not truly work. And on top of all of this he still had to reveal that Gusty was still alive inside this dark prison.

A lash of black slammed forward and grabbed Zeccaran before another thought could cross his mind. The Curse laughed merrily, its grip tossing him into the floor of the mindscape and stunning him. With his mind addled the only thing left in Zeccaran was a white hot rage that he could not control. On instinct his own magic flared, pulsing with vibrant verdant light that caused the Curse to recoil and release him with a snarl.

However instead of registering the pain itself, Gusty shrieked on a bit of delay. Confused, Zeccaran flitted his eyes between the two of his quarries. He did not have time to puzzle out what had just happened. It was a problem he would have to deal with later.

With a furious flash of green he released the dark power that was held within him, he fired off his beacon. This time both the Shade and Gusty herself screamed in pain. The subconscious realm began to crack and howl as his magic pierced through their collective minds. He had no idea how successful he had been but there was something else he wanted to do before he was completely sucked back into the realm of the living.

Zeccaran jumped towards the evil faux-Gusty. His head pulsed in pain as he did. It did not matter, no matter how much it hurt no matter what happened now, Zeccaran wanted it to hurt. He wanted the Curse to hurt like his heart hurt. It was then that something inside the zebra broke. He felt it nearly shatter him out of existence entirely.

Deep in his soul, he knew this: Even Luna’s words would not be able to order him to stop from hurting the ancient and terrible Curse. He knew he was not supposed to have such free will. It infuriated him more. Zeccaran slashed at the Curse with his magic to fulfill the urge, to forget this lapse in control and judgement. The blow struck true but even with the collective screaming of the Shade and Gusty herself he could not tell if it had done anything. Then the dream world started to fade away.

The dark magic of the Curse collided with him again as he passed the barrier around Gusty’s subconscious. Its attacks were unfocused this time. That was a positive sign he thought to himself as he started to lose consciousness. The mindscape fully shattered and the feeling of being flung into the air took him.

About him broken pieces of glass showed images of Gusty’s mind. It had never done that before. He wondered if it mattered. A sharp pain hit his skull and he screamed trying to compensate for the suffering. Tears came as his vision quickly faded black. Somehow, the terrible entity had pushed him past his limits. He wanted to die. Sadly, for Zeccaran, that was not his path and he knew it. One way or another he would survive, he just hoped Gusty would too, so at least his break in principle could possibly be claimed as worth it. Even so he would hate himself forever for being willing to go so far.

Then there was a simple nothingness much to his surprise. Zeccaran did not question this respite. His routine was over.