Dawnbreaker

“Memories”

Eighteenth of Soulfire, 2583 BC

After dragging the heavy, bloody manticore corpse back to the clearing near the Terra Valley Forest's entrance, Zarril wiped the sweat off his brow, planting his grey-coated hoof firmly into the sodden, swampy ground beneath him. He sighed deeply, muttering to himself “Now, on to the 'exploring' part.”

Trekking on, the prince found that he had turned himself in a circle, though it had seemed as if he were traveling straight the entire time. “What in the name of...” he looked around, confused at seeing the same manticore carcass he'd left there an hour ago. “What's going on here?” he asked the air around him.

As if answering, the trees seemed to groan at him, a sort of ghastly sound that made itself out to be the moans of the haunted. Daunted, but not backing down, Zarril winced, slowly trotting farther into the maze of trees and underbrush. The prince unsheathed his sword, still bloodstained from when he slew the manticore, biting down on it tightly with his teeth bared.. Dropping into a more defensive, lowered stance, he proceeded cautiously as the forest grew more and more ominous.

Zarril's ears perked up, hearing the sound of rustling behind him. Quickly flipping his body around, rotating on the sword's pointed tip, his eyes scanned the treeline and bushes. Nothing. His pulse quickened as he anticipated an attack of some sort. He spotted something moving in a bush, taking a few careful steps toward it. Lowering his head between his forelegs, he let the sword rest upon the ground. In this new pouncing stance, he could ambush the thing and slay it quickly and quietly. Then he'd drag it back out and put it over by the manticore carc--

The creature whom was fumbling around in the bush suddenly leapt out, pausing to look at Zarril. It was a small, naturally-armored reptile with oddly-unfocused purple-pink eyes. The prince mentally kicked himself over and over for getting so worked up about a small, harmless, and – upon further inspection – toothless alligator as he stood.

Something much bigger leapt out from the bushes opposite the path. Something covered in a tawny hide, with a lion's mane, bat's wings, and scorpion's tail. Landing upon the small reptile, the manticore began ripping it to shreds, biting and clawing the poor, defenseless thing right in front of Zarril. The aforementioned stallion was taken aback, his jaw slackening and accidentally dropping the sword from his mouth. As the sword hit the dirt, it caused the manticore to look in its direction. It noticed Zarril, its bloody maw opening to devour its next meal as it coolly turned to him. It pounced.

He was caught off-guard by the manticore's sudden jump, so much in fact that he was paralyzed in fear as the creature landed atop him. It roared, its yellowed eyes staring into the prince's very soul. Zarril looked over at his sword, at least ten hooves away from him. Grimacing, he gritted his teeth and tried throwing a few punches at the manticore. His attempt was futile, and ended up with his forelegs getting mangled and bloodied from contact with its razor-sharp claws. Now defenseless, the prince closed his eyes and waited to be eaten.

There was a soft “twhip”, and then nothing. A few seconds later, Zarril opened his eyes slowly, noting that the manticore had fallen, slain, atop him. How the hay could that have happened?

A shadowy figure approached from the underbrush, hobbling toward the pinned prince. As he neared, his face was caught in a few stray sunbeams. The figure was an old buck, his face worn and hardened from years of experience. From the look of his tattered, bloodstained clothing, Zarril speculated that the stallion had likely lived around the Terra Valley Forest for quite some time. His eyes were sunken into his head, heavy wrinkles spreading across his cheeks; his chin was dusted with powdery-white hairs, and  he appeared to be otherwise bald. Another thing to notice, his mouth was biting some sort of bit, connected to a pipe that attached to the side of some wooden contraption on his back that featured a string and a rail that arrows could attach to. A makeshift crossbow likely built by its wielder.

“I do appreciate the help, kind stallion, but I could use a bit of help getting this thing off of me.”

The old buck spit out the mouthpiece and smiled. His mouth was missing a few of its teeth. He nodded, walking over to Zarril and assisted in getting the manticore off of him. “So who do I have the pleasure of meeting, friend?”

In a slightly raspy, but still strong, voice, the buck replied, “My name is Dusk.” He extends a steady hoof to the prince, who bumps it against his own, bloodied one. "Pleased to meet you, Dusk," he replies. "I'm Zarril, of Hoofshire. Why did you, er... help me?" The old buck tapped a hoof to his chin, looking up at some imaginary thought cloud or other as he checked off a few reasons.

"Well, there's the whole 'this pony is about to become Manticore meat, so I'd best save him', followed by, of course, the 'I need Manticore hides to repair these raggedy clothes of mine'. Oh, and the 'I'm sort of starving out here, and there are some quite tasty pieces of fruit out here in this part of the forest.'"

The prince simply blinked. "So you just saved me because it looked like I was in trouble?" At Dusk's 'does it look like I'm kidding?' face, he sighed. "I suppose you did. About that manticore hide, I've got a carcass over by the Southern exit to the forest. For your troubles, you could take it." Zarril took a gander at his surroundings noting that he was completely lost. He also took the chance to look himself over: covered in blood, about half of it his own, gashes oozing blood, the sides of his armor torn to shreds from the first manticore attack. "Though I don't know where that is from here. You see, I came here to explore. Find out what makes this place so mysterious." Dusk nods in understanding. "I reckon it's about 3 hours from here, if'n you go this direction." He swung a foreleg over Zarril's shoulders, pointing with the other in a direction perpendicular from the path he was on earlier. It was hidden by the brush, kept secret from trespassers. "Right over there."

Zarril nodded. Looking over at his unlikely savior, he asked, "So Dusk, do you happen to know what might cause this forest to act so... odd?" The old buck's face turned grave, a solid line across his face radiating somberness. He lets out a soft sigh, staring Zarril straight in the eye. "Only if you swear an oath not to tell anyone outside this forest. It's a well-guarded secret, and with good reason. We can't have ponies trotting around trying to find it." The prince nodded his head in understanding. "Very well. What be this oath?"

"You must swear upon the sun and moon that you will keep this confidential and to yourself." He placed his right hoof over his chest. "Repeat after me, young one." The prince also put a hoof over his chest, taking a vow of secrecy that he was not to reveal anything he was about to see. After saying the oath, the old buck stared at Zarril, sizing him up; judging the sincerity of his words. Minutes passed by, or so it felt, until Dusk was finally satisfied that he was truthful. "Now follow me."

The two trotted along the dirt path, which only became darker and darker as they trekked onward to this "mystery." After about an hour of silence, Dusk and Zarril finally approached what appeared to be a clearing. Two manticores circled the air, watching for prey. The prince froze in his tracks, but his companion continued on. "What are you doing?!" hissed Zarril. "They'll slaughter us!" Dusk stopped momentarily, looking back, before walking forward a few more hooves and... shimmering away? This was all very odd.

"Come on through. It's just a magical field of illusion, designed to shy away 'unwanted visitors'." Arching an eyebrow, Zarril took a few cautious steps forward, noticing that he was now looking at a large stone rotunda built into the side of a steep hill. Dusk looked back at Zarril, noticing the amazed expression on his face, and a small smile played across his hardened face. "This way," he said, before nodding his head in the direction of the archway and proceeding forward. Zarril followed behind, still in awe at how this amazing piece of work had remained hidden for so long.

Pushing open the heavy, dust-coated wooden door, Dusk stepped inside, beckoning Zarril in behind him before shutting it and pulling down the heavy iron lock bar to keep it sealed. "This is it. Inside this very building lies the secret to the evil inside the Terra Valley Forest." The old buck solemnly trotted ahead, prince Zarril following him cautiously, uneasy as to what he would find. They came to a large, circular chamber supported by a hexagon of pillars. In the center was a very large, opulent but faded design depicting a backward "S" with a diamond-shaped jewel embedded inside the bottom half-loop. Around it was an aura of dark magic, warding off the light on the outer rim of the dais.

The old buck stood, pulling off his tattered clothing and setting his crossbow contraption aside. Underneath, the old buck was actually quite fit. Too fit, in fact, to be an 'old buck'. Another thing caught the prince's eye: wings. The old earth pony stallion turned out to be a young pegasus. Flapping his wings, he ascended into the air, the dust on the floor kicking up into the air before hanging there like stale smoke. The rune on the middle of the dais lit up; the gem did, to be exact. The dark aura got even darker, the light paler. Dusk landed next to Zarril, his face looking much younger than he'd remembered. "Another illusion, I imagine?" He simply nodded, saying, "I'm the designated keeper of this temple. It is my duty to ward away those who would seek to steal the thing that keeps the Terra Valley Forest evil -- evil, but intact. Follow me, it is just through this door."

Before Zarril was able to ask, "What door?", the dais turned one hundred eighty degrees, a loud CLICK sounding throughout the chamber as a great stone door began to rise and grant them access into the next chamber. Dusk trotted over to it, the prince close behind. Coming to a stop, Zarril's jaw dropped to the floor as he saw exactly what was in front of him.

In the center of the next chamber, a wicked-looking sword drew in sunlight, the room darkening around it. The scarlet-on-black metal was definitely, in a word, intimidating. It was embedded in a pedestal in the floor, large cracks spreading from it, acrid-smelling smoke pluming softly from them.

"This... is Dawnbreaker."