I Will Follow You into the Dark

by Jin Shu

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Other, Original Character, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 3991

Destiny wanted answers. Daedalus wanted to save his friends. Each has the opportunity to make manifest their desire. But at what cost?

Written for EsperFox.

Disparate as Destiny and Daedalus were, it was not unusual to make friends in strange places, for strong are the bonds formed in tribulation. The truest test of friendship, however, is when you strip away what makes it possible in the first place. A terrible accident leads Destiny to make an equally terrible sacrifice for the life of her friends.

In the wake of the disaster, Destiny finds herself free of her compassion and free of her prior limits. With nothing else to hold her back, she pursues the answers she has sought her entire life. Daedalus, still nursing his wounds, endeavors to stop her, knowing full well the dark paths which her questions will lead.

How far will you go to save your friends?

Daedalus belongs to me.
Destiny belongs to EsperFox.

Published 2017-11-04 20:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-11-04 20:20:06 UTC

Heaven and Hell Decided

Five days. Fifty-five miles. Six aetherstorms. One-hundred-twenty degree days. Below-zero nights.

Aether-charged wind ripped the hood from Daedalus’ head and left his ash-white mane streaming out behind him. Covered in dust and bearing the marks of combat and hard travel, his sanguine coat could have been mistaken for muddy brown in his current state. As a mage for hire, Daedalus was often paid to enter hazardous areas for his work. This, however, was well above and beyond that which someone else could have paid him to do.

In spite of it, there was no reluctance to his compliance. There was no hesitation in his steps. There was only weary determination and aether-weathered grit.

Daedalus’ wounds still ached. Mere days before he had been on the brink of death. To think that he would so soon be on yet another quest would have been laugh-worthy at the time. Or so his friend, his savior at the time, would have said.

Every paroxysm of pain, every infirm step, echoed the cunning opportunism of the Cold Dark. The most powerful of his company, the most noble, the most compassionate did it see fit to ensorcell. But it was not its magic that snared her, but the virtue of her own heart. For her own empathy would it grant her companions life. While the others praised her sacrifice, Daedalus cursed the Cold Dark and whatever hellhole it had crawled from.

They knew her not like he did. The others had not fought the agents of the Assembly like they had. The others had not stood together against the aether-warped beasts of the wilds like they had. The others had not dived deep into the oceans of dark magic that covered Equestria’s distant past and emerged to tell the tale as they had. For the others’ paltry lives, she had traded her very essence.

At the dusk of the first day, Daedalus wrestled with her departure. It was not a surprise to the other adventurers. After all, it was common for those associated with the guild to appear and disappear at will. This was the way of the adventurer. They were not her keeper; why would they pay her mind?

On the second day, Daedalus cursed her. Why would she leave after their success? Why would she give up after all they had accomplished? Why would she abandon her friends? What could possibly have been so important as to leave the most important ponies in her life?

Three days passed before Daedalus tried to reason it out. She knew her new state was a risk to the company. She knew she could no longer deny herself the answers she needed. She knew something that he didn’t and he was going to hold her back if he protested. It was still not enough for Daedalus.

Four days after he set out, Daedalus wiped his tears with a fetlock in mid-stride. Dead she was not. She could not be; her tenacity precluded it. It was not so much the possibility of her demise but the choice that she made to abandon them that had wounded him so. The wound to his heart would hinder him far more than any of the physical wounds that threatened to burst open from exertion during his quest.

At the cusp of the fifth day, Daedalus made his choice. She would be where he had predicted. She would be alive and healthy, even if she was not whole. He would only have to convince her to return home. There would be no turning back.

Nature was never so cruel as it was in the Megiddo Basin. Daedalus gazed out over the vast wilderness, struggling to steel his mind against the maddening aether currents that whirled through the broken lands. Alien terrain jutted out of the ground, a crazed mishmash of floating islands drifting over high desert bordering alpine forest splintered by rocky ravines. Life itself was warped here, plants bearing strange crystalline fruit that hummed with unstable aether and wild beasts glowing with festering wounds of magical corruption.

Most notably, large indigo crystals jutted out of the ground, the remains of some ancient meteor that failed to disintegrate upon contact with the ground, instead crushing everything within miles around. Nature, in attempting to reclaim the basin, had found itself claimed by Megiddo instead. Dark stormclouds circled overhead, the flashes of blue and violet lightning casting sharp shadows upon the twisted land and the sound of crystalline hail upon distant ground sending eerie echoes reverberating throughout the basin.

A wicked howl echoed through the ravines and sent the baying winds into a frenzy. Daedalus squinted into the swirling grit, holding a hoof to his eyes to make out the distant event. Above one of the meteor fragments, the stormclouds whirled, first forming a smooth saucer-shaped mass, then a pinwheeling vortex, and finally a veritable hole in the sky. Fading sunlight shone down through the cloud cover, faintly illuminating the floor of the basin and setting the wound-like spokes of ejecta aglow in ghostly fluorescence.

Daedalus pressed on. As unnatural as this place was, this was more unnatural still. She was here.

Finally, Daedalus caught sight of his mark. She stood upon a precipice, silhouetted against the unearthly glow of a large crystal pillar that stood just out of reach. Her byzantine purple coat glowed with bluish rim light from the crystal, her amethyst mane somehow remaining unperturbed by the vicious wind. Glowing silver eyes turned their gaze upon him as he entered earshot.

“You came.” The voice was soft, ethereal, but Daedalus heard her as clearly as though she were whispering in his ears.

“You’re not the only one who knows you, Destiny.” He shouted above the wind. “What else did you expect me to do? Leave you to mope by yourself?”

Daedalus was unable to hide his bitterness entirely in humor. A noble sacrifice was one thing. Giving up yourself and yet living still was another entirely. That Destiny should suffer at the whims of some hellspawn was not something he would allow.

“It would have been the logical decision to make, Daedalus. I moved on. Why haven’t you?”

Her voice was cold, calculated. It was not directed to wound; no that would have been better. That she could speak so callously even after all they had endured cut him deeper than a heated exchange could have done. If it were merely hate, Daedalus could parry and riposte. Indifference he could only endure.

Anger flared in his heart, momentarily cauterizing the icy cuts she had made. This wasn’t Destiny speaking, it was the Cold Dark, was it not? She was still in there somewhere.

“Because it’s not time to move on yet.” He countered. “I don’t give up without a fight. Not to the Assembly, not to the Oligarchs, and certainly not to the Cold Dark!”

“You are wasting your time. The Cold Dark is long gone. My decisions are my own.”

Daedalus blinked back the dust and shut the mad whispers out of his head. Staring into Destiny’s eyes, he searched for the smallest bit of her that remained. They were the same eyes that glowed with mirth when they shared drinks after a successful mission, the same eyes that glared daggers into the cowering glance of an overzealous colt, the same eyes that pleaded with the Cold Dark to spare Daedalus’ life in exchange for a piece of her own soul. As much of a skeptic as Daedalus was, he refused to believe her.

“It’s only a waste of time if I’m not having fun.” He cracked a pained smile. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

“You know I can’t do that, Daedalus.”

Humor was Daedalus’ only armor against her piercing words. Even as she spoke in his head, he was rewording, re-delivering them with the inflection he had learned to adore. Surely when the Cold Dark said it had taken her compassion, it was merely feasting upon her willingly offered aether? Surely it could not actually consume her capacity to feel, to care, to be the friend he knew she was? Surely she was just suffering the side effects as her aether regenerated naturally?

“Even if our friendship means nothing to you, you don’t know everything! You need another mage! You need me!” What was supposed to be a sarcastic jab came out as a desperate plea.

Daedalus stepped closer, within hoof’s reach. In an instant the wind stopped. The whispers stopped. The world stopped. Silence wrapped them in a veil of eerie calm. Destiny’s gaze remained fixed upon him, unwavering.

“Decrypting the Stygian Codex will provide me with the answer I need. Your help is unnecessary.”

“And what will you do with that answer?” Daedalus’ tone softened as he was relieved of the need to shout down the wind.

Destiny’s did not. “Leave while you still yet draw breath. I already saved your life with my compassion once. It will not be there for me to save you again.”

Daedalus wanted to scream. He wanted to lash out, to smash his hoof into the mocking facsimile of his friend that the Cold Dark had built. But he knew it was not a mere facsimile. This was Destiny. He could not visit harm upon the Cold Dark’s mockery without harming that which he sought to protect.

Briefly, he wondered if he even needed to speak; if the Cold Dark had so unfettered Destiny’s magic that she could pluck the very thoughts from his mind. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t need you to save me.”

“Why are you here, then?” The answer was curt, even more devoid of patience than before.

“Because I need you to save you. What you gave the Cold Dark isn’t truly lost forever, no matter what it told you.”

Destiny’s face turned away, her eyes fixating on the glowing crystal spire that the cliffside overlooked. Her expression remained stony and unmoving. Daedalus dared to hope that she was actually considering his words.

“The Cold Dark is no longer relevant.”

Destiny’s disinterested response shattered all such hopes. Frustration. Desperation. Wrath. Despair. All swirled together in Daedalus’ head, bubbling and frothing in one incoherent admixture of conflicting emotion.

“So long as you continue down this path, the Cold Dark still has its claws in you.” He spoke slowly, deliberately, pushing those uncontrolled feelings, each of those facets of weakness away with every word. Little by little, grim determination took its place. “And as long as that is the case, I’m going to fight it! I’ll fight it until you remember how to do it, too!”

“You would so casually throw your life away?” The barest hint of disdain edged the last of her words.

That she showed any emotion at all cracked the barest grin on Daedalus’ face. His characteristic dark humor returned. “I’m living on borrowed time, Destiny. I just thought I might do something constructive with what I’ve got left.”

Destiny raised an eyebrow. “You would fight me, Daedalus? You know your martial skills are nothing compared to mine.”

“You and I both know that. That’s why I don’t plan on fighting fair!”

Daedalus’ horn flared to life in a brilliant flash of violet. He whirled around, flicking the hem of his cape toward Destiny. From under the flowing fabric, two glowing aether darts shot toward her. Even under threat, Destiny was unfazed. She turned, faced away from Daedalus, and fired a brilliant beam of light from her horn.

The air itself where she fired seemed to break, cracks spiderwebbing across empty space as if a glass window had just been struck. Instantly, the darts shattered, dissipating long before they had found their mark. Daedalus was yanked into the air as if struck by an enormous hammer and flew backwards until he struck what remained of a tree trunk. The impact, however, made nary a sound. Mere moments after Daedalus’ spine had surely been shattered, his ‘corpse’ dissolved into a cloud of aether shards.

Simultaneously, the cracked space before Destiny crumbled, leaving only an inky black void. Then, out of the gaping hole left in empty space fell Daedalus -- the real Daedalus. Though he landed on his face, he quickly hopped back onto his hooves, chortling half in self-aware chagrin and half in animated amusement.

“So you do remember how that trick works!”

“You telegraph your actions.” Destiny’s response was flat, emotionless, less a taunt or analysis than it was a statement of fact.

That Destiny was a superior martial combatant was clear in the ease with which she defeated his deception and effortlessness of her counterattack. Daedalus’ own adventuring experience paled in comparison to an intensive military training regimen.

“Do you remember when we blew up the adventurer’s guild training ground while sparring in Saraneighvo?”

The lilt of his reply would have suggested jeering retort save for the wavering twinge of sadness at the edge of Daedalus’ voice. Another wave of his horn and suddenly a half-dozen more of him appeared. The duplicates faintly shimmered before leaping into position surrounding Destiny, each one pointing a rapier formed of crystallized aether at her.

“The Guildmaster kicked us out and we had to spend the night camping in the woods before we could catch an airship out of Stalliongrad the next day!”

The clones leaped at Destiny as Daedalus recounted the tale. A brilliant spear of light appeared before Destiny, her will made manifest in weapon form. Again, she demonstrated her martial mastery, delivering parry, riposte, and counterattack against her myriad assailants one after another with all the grace of a dancer and all the expertise of a trained soldier.

Another magical rapier flashed into existence by Daedalus’ head as he joined the fray. “And that one griffon from Clawifax who wouldn’t take a hint so I set him chasing a mirage of you all night!”

Sparks flew as Destiny deflected the thrust. Daedalus’ eyes flashed violet. The world around him faded into monochrome as he slipped into the space between. In an instant, the world snapped back into focus and he was behind Destiny, taking the place of one of his doubles.

“Do you remember?” he whispered as he flashed back into the material plane.

“Enough!” Though no sound came from her lips, Destiny’s voice boomed in Daedalus’ head, its sheer volume enough to send him reeling backwards. The double that he had swapped places with exploded as Destiny viciously ran it through with her spear.

“You did not bring superior numbers!” Two of the illusory doubles exploded into aetherdust as brilliant beams of starlight from both spearpoint and the tip of Destiny’s horn pierced their heads.

“You did not bring superior strength!”

She slammed the haft of the spear into the ground with enough force that to crack the stone. Her spear remained upright, its haft buried in the ground and its tip beginning to glow pure white as a roiling ball of stellar fire ignited upon its point. The miniature sun lashed out with a tendril of flame, shattering yet another double before wrapping around and subsuming another still.

“You did not even bring superior strategy!”

Daedalus could feel himself getting lighter, physically lighter. All around him, pieces of rock were beginning to float and soon he found himself levitating above the ground against his will. The star perched upon Destiny’s spear grew in size until it was larger than a pony. Its magnitude caused him physical pain when he looked upon it. He could feel the heat begin to sear his flesh. Acrid fumes from burnt hair invaded his nostrils as his own mane and coat began to smolder from the baleful radiance.

Again the roaring winds around him went silent. The star’s inflation stopped for a second before reversing, slowly at first then faster and faster until it fit upon the point of the spear again. A sound like a thousand thunderclaps shook Daedalus’ entire body as the burning globe suddenly vanished. In its place was a tiny black orb, blacker than black, so dark inside that it seemed to be nothing more than a hole in space floating before him.

The last of Daedalus’ doubles was also lifted off the ground. Bearing no mass in the manner of the real Daedalus, it could not resist being dragged toward Destiny. As it crossed the invisible rubicon, its form stretched out comically before vanishing into the black void. His mirages destroyed, Daedalus floated alone.

“What did you hope to accomplish?” Destiny’s unnervingly calm delivery was the only telegraph Daedalus was given.

He barely had time to cast a void cloak spell before he felt the atmosphere vanish around him. The barrier provided a thin bubble of breathable air and just enough shielding to prevent him from being irradiated, atomized, and pulled into the hungering singularity at Destiny’s command. Pouring more aether into the shield broke the artificial gravity’s grasp upon him, planting his hooves firmly back on the ground.

Raising his spectral blade high, Daedalus mouthed the steps of the spell as the needed runes flashed into existence around his horn. A thin beam shot from the blade into the sky, illuminating the clouds in ghostly violet for a brief second. The blade dissolved and Daedalus lowered his gaze, meeting Destiny’s eyes in the sudden lull.

“Do you remember?” He shouted, desperation edging into his voice.

Destiny remained stony-faced. Daedalus closed his eyes and sighed, the last rune of his spell briefly flashing in front of his face before winking out. Out of the clouds above came a piercing howl. Between them landed a blade of glowing aether, its tip smashing stone and throwing up a spray of superheated dust. Its suddenness was enough to give Destiny momentary pause.

Daedalus seized the opportunity. Again he slipped into the aether, galloping forward and leaping toward Destiny. All around, blades of aether fell from the sky, forcing Destiny to parry or block. Now close enough to touch her, Daedalus blinked back into realspace. A tendril of magic shot from his horn, sliding into Destiny’s saddlebag and pulling out the tome within. His horn flashed again and launched him through the aether to safety.

Suddenly, the world around him stopped. Daedalus felt his insides churn as if he were being turned inside out. The world snapped into focus as he was forcibly ejected into the material plane. He could scarcely breathe. Each limb was locked in place, each lung frozen as though encased in ice, all gripped in the gravitic vice of Destiny’s artificial star.

An attempt to cast was met with crushing pain in every inch of his body. Daedalus could feel his prior wounds unmend and his reserves of aether drain away. The blades he had called from the sky stood frozen in space and time all around him. All his efforts, all his trickery, all his desperate derring-do, Destiny had countered it without effort.

His stomach leaped into his throat as gravity shifted yet again, sending him careening away. While airborne, Daedalus could hear a sound like shattering glass as the spectral blades exploded, dispelled by Destiny’s magecraft. He finally crashed to a halt a few meters away. The Codex clattered to rest just out of reach. A warm wetness gathered below him and the sharp taste of iron filled his mouth. Attempting to cast made his head hurt more and every breath came with stabbing pains in his chest.

Destiny stepped forward.

“Kill me!” Daedalus rasped. “Go on. Erase me from existence! You have the power! You have nothing holding you back!”

Destiny picked up the Codex with her magic, ignoring Daedalus entirely. Too weak to contest her, Daedalus could only watch helplessly as she trotted back to the cliff edge to complete the ritual. The book fluttered open before her, the arcane geometries traced upon its pages leaping into the air and springing to life. Concentric circles of arcane runes filled the air around her, humming with ancient secrets and barely contained energies.

Destiny maneuvered her horn like a surgeon’s scalpel, nudging runes into place, locking segments of one circle down only to move another into different position. Finally, she ducked her head, pointed her horn into the center of the rings, and loosed a thin beam of magical radiance. The beam expanded as it passed through the floating rings, widening into a blinding torrent of light.

The massive beam struck the meteorite fragment and stopped. Daedalus could make out the shockwave racing along the crater floor, the sound of the collision only reaching his ears as the dispersing blast wave washed over them both. Destiny remained unmolested by the blast, her singularity’s gravity well shaping the wave around her, not even allowing one hair to fall out of place.

Daedalus was afforded no such protection. The blast wave buffeted him and hammered his eardrums with a deafening toll, as if a bell the size of Canterlot Castle itself had just been rung over his head. He was already bleeding from both the wounds inflicted by Destiny and the old ones torn open by exertion. Only the last vestiges of his void cloak spell kept his bones from being shattered by the earthshaking roar of magic.

His eyes bleary, Daedalus watched as Destiny completed the ritual. The circles rotated into place and collapsed into a single ring. The column of light connecting the Codex to the meteorite telescoped in upon itself. In the distance, the glow of the fragment visibly diminished. Destiny lifted her head, gave the circle one last spin, then dispelled the runes. The Codex slammed closed and fell silent upon the cliffside stone. Destiny picked up the book and slipped it into her saddlebag.

“Did you... find the answer you wanted?” Daedalus barely managed the words.

She glanced down at his broken form. “You never stood a chance. Yet you still fought. Why?”

“I already told you.” Daedalus stopped, gasping for breath. It took him a moment before he could find the strength to speak again. “I came to remind you. The real Destiny is somewhere in there still. I miss her. I want her back.”

Destiny turned away from him, waving her still-glowing horn in the air. The singularity flew forward and pulsed with unearthly light. A circle of runes materialized around it, cycling rapidly but coming to rest one at a time in sequence. Even in the delirium of exsanguination, Daedalus recognized it as a teleportation circle. The portal shimmered to life within the runic ring and Destiny briskly stepped to its cusp.

She turned one last time, speaking again without sound, the words echoing clearly in his head, “Go home, Daedalus.”

In a peel of thunder and a flash of lightning, she was gone.

******

Daedalus lost track of how long he lay in the dirt. A kaleidoscope of greys and reds splashed with starbursts of violet and indigo churned across his sight, occasionally sharpening into brief slideshows of the world around him. Some frames lingered longer than others, allowing Daedalus to discern that he had dragged himself to the cover of the dead tree as he drifted within the fever dream of limbo.

When he next awoke, it was morning. He found his wounds partially closed and himself somehow still alive in spite of the blood loss. Whether that was from half-conscious self-applied first aid or the strange effects of the warped aether in Megiddo, Daedalus did not know.

It was another day yet before he had gathered enough strength to walk. As he oriented himself and prepared to depart, Daedalus recalled Destiny’s final words to him. “Go home, Daedalus.”

“Home is where our friends are.” His address was to Destiny, though he spoke only to the wind. “Home is us.”

He turned his gaze to where the teleportation circle had vanished. “Even if I have to chase you around the entire damn world to help you remember that.”