E Q U E S T R I A N . Q U E S T S

E P I S O D E . I V

THE CYCLE ENDS HERE, ONCE AND FOR ALL

P A R T . T H R E E

Narrated by Mimir

Aye.... we're back lads, and where were we, oh yes, that part. A-a-a-hem, after Brother spotted what appeared to be the white Unicorn resting flat on the far side of the ruined streets of Canterlot...

Aye....

Out the pouch came Healing Stones, droping to rest on his open palms.... aah, yes... Now I know what he's gonna do with them. Very clever and wise for a big lug he is, yes.

Tossing some of the little stones to his son, of course the mare still in his painful grasp, hissing in bloody agony, hsss, what a pain for the wee girl, but the man held still no intent on unhanding her. Not now. Not until.

As done so, the boy questioned his father on why would he do such a thing? Why would he even bother to give the prone lady keeled on side such a remedy?

I'll tell ye me curious lil' breekies, because that already confirms us the answer as he only gave the lad a simple yet somewhat, questionable chuff, from his fat old nose...

And honestly, my friends, I've been wondering about that meself, but whether his decision is pure or simply a desperate mean to... well, ye know.

"Hmmph."

"Why these, Father? Who you wanna use them to-"young Atreus was cut off in the middle of what he's sayin' when at the flowing rapids of seconds that he trailed his vision across the misshapen landscape, past the avian seafarers. And as his eyes kept steering on the floor searching for something of some significance. He had finally stumbled into something.

Or was it a "something"?

That sort of a something that his ice-blue eyes had just captured. More than something. It was beyond that it should. It was a someone... one with the head, the spine, and the limbs, all to name a couple. It was a body—A body that moves, that lives, that sleeps. That talks. And that body his eyes had stuck on, turning away never...

Her.

"Oh, yeah, I see her. But.... why?" He looked on to his father as the same could be applied to the young lad... guessing what he meant.

He guessed it, he'd need not abide by word of mouth...

What he was supposed to do.... was to give the stones to the white Unicorn distant on the dusty streets to apply the treatment, bring her back to consciousness, waking her up. That is the plan.... sure that would sound like something very plausible, but, why would he do something like that? That lads, I thought deep in my head's cranking machinations, only so that the wheels that turned in my head had bound in realization, at a later time.

"I have my reasons, Boy. Now go. Do it." He ordered. Reasons, huh? Back there lads, I wondered, silently. Usually there the Ghost is not one capable of delving
himself upon the sympathy for others, if he would—he could probably had turn his plump ass acoil, leave that someone rotting on a snowy grave, to have pry their spirits the gates of Hel for certain—but in retrospect, it appeared that, he had made some sort of an exception on that subject.

Curious, I thought, for I'd been wondering about why a fellow with a "don't care about stuff and bollocks" attitude like this man would do this whole thing in the first bloody place?

Without any sort of question as to avoid attracting another scorn from his father, "Okay." he complied, the Health Stones rested still on hand as he headed across the now eerie and dusty streets straight towards the white Unicorn in order to make useage of the small pebbles.

"Oh, no. Rarity." The baby dragon lamented, worry and fear far from fresh, but still dribbling within his system, obvious as your big eyes can witness that he is truly, and no doubt concerned in her welfare. As he hurried, the seafarers, some others, the bastard... with me bumping helplessly against his leathery rump, lagging abut...

He followed last.... but simply ambled on with the pink lassie still dangling on his grasp as he gave her a brief but a very hostile glimpse.... her with a very sad and lowly mane, literally, before turning forward.

Interesting, I thought. That mane of hers molded in shape whenever extreme emotion befalls her... now that's quite interesting and peculiar indeed. Even to this flow of days m'lads.

At last making a seal on the distance between, where lied the unresponsive white Unicorn. Reaching her keel, boy kneed, unfolded his palms, revealing the emanating glimmer spewing from the Health Stones his father delivered him. Reaching out his left, he gave the mare's forefoof arise, as the others watching in a state of curiosity, and Brother in wait...

"What's he trying to do? I-Is Rarity gonna be okay?" The baby dragon asked, curiousity and worry on the mix, and still uncertain about the boy's doing, the nearby feline dobber only shrugging as the drake gave him a gaze that indicated questions, well, questions that are yet to be realized...

Apparently, this dragon had some sort of a crush on the white Unicorn, well....for that young an age, an equine and a dragon. Scales and fur. Hoof and Claw. I bet my discernible gut, a-. I, well, I don't have a gut anymore but still, I can bet my Jötunn-given eyes that I hold this to be a very odd romance.... between a meat-eater.... and a plant eater, actually speaking the latter to be a jewel eater, all to be considered.... quite the irony, innit?

Sorry for that anyhow, I forgot how dragons indulge in diets in this realm, like I mentioned firsthand, I am smart yes, but there are limits concerning my knowledge... and everything, even you, are not without limits.

But... let's not scribble that down in lengthy detail, we wouldn't flutter off into another bollocks-full of subjects now shall we?

Anywho, as the big boar-warts still had pink lass in hold... still in hold... not lettin' go of her yet...

However...

As m'boy had his opportunity brought down upon her to cut and crack the stuff to get the bloody task done with, to see her get back to the world of reality, so that the hot-headed axe-mullet and his son can finally be off with everything around them. The boy stopped all of a sudden. He hesitated, and for some bloody reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. I could tell ye, lads, young Atreus usually had his wills full in helping anyone in the most desperate need... but in his current circumstance... he couldn't do it. He couldn't, but why? Oh, we will see lads, we will find out why.

"Umm, Father. I don't think I'll... do it. It's, your idea, yeah but, if, if... why would you-"

"Fine. I will do it." Brother bent his words, becoming so opt as to lay down the treatment himself. Actually lads, I'll tell ye somethin', the former God of War did in inclination this whole contrivance not because he is altruistic or anything, he is of no interest in people's personal affairs and not because his boy is too drowned in fear, nor he was too weak or indifferent. He was doubting on his deed. He was, is all. He's not so bloody sure as to whether he should put this in or not, because something in his gut told him that, his father could be up to something, not ulterior, he knew he would not. Because he would be up to something that he would never be aware of, to expect. So in hindsight, da' had to do things himself just to prevent his little pint from dunking his head further in his thoughts. And so he almost did, so... that is why he had to do it, because he expected his son to turn on his inner doubt, whether he can trust what he is to confer or refuse. So in a way, he was merely testing the boy's sense of judgement. Doubtfully for you, but Brother is never a dumbass, anything cannot fall him over... but he still has a blind spot where foes can exploit though.

H-hmm, I think we are being flung off, let us go forth. As the man neared the Unicorn in order to hand off the Health Stones from the lad's hands so that he may do the treatment himself, before that, he gave the pink mare he harshfully grabbed against the ear brief, but a venomously deadpan gaze... a gaze that probably would give her the shivers for the following weeks...

The lassie smiled as bloody wide like a Giant embarrassed in front of the Æsir, as nervous as ever, shiverin' with all fear in her heart.... oh lads, this rarely ever happens to her, well, at least what I've heard about her...

Seconds passed and at last, our rotten toes unwraps the girl from his immense grip, sending the poor little creature crashing down the ground with a hard solid thud...

BSHOOK!! (Dust flying)

"Oowie-zowie. I can't feel my ear." She clutched her ear, the numbness almost unbearable from our Spartan brother's agonizing crushing hold. Such harsh treatment.. but she was finally let go after that short time of what it felt like torture to her... well, at least for now, if she never buggers the lugger one more.

Blowing a tongue scornfully in response to his harsh disposition.

Like usual in his mindset, the Ghost of Sparta paid that scornful entering ears absolutely no heed. Of course he need not, for he'd met history's load of a more fiery and ear-prickin' forms of derision and mockery for the Allfather knows how long, so such as this wouldn't be so much of a pinch on the skin for him.

Now closer to him, the lad then handed over the Health Stones to his father, him accepting shortly thereafter. Now with the stones in his possession, Brother then proceeded to face the unconsious Unicorn, lifting her frontal hooves up against the air with his other hand, he then placed the said stones underneath her and then, what did he do?

He did it...

BOOM! (Green energy exploding)

"Wait? What did he do to-"

"Just wait and see. You'll find out." The lad cut off the words of the pint-sized dragon who was a tad bit confused of what his father, the used-to-be God of War, was doin' to that Unicorn whose name was... Rarity? Yes, Rarity of course. No wonder her beauty's such a rarity, a fitting name for that characteristic.... If Odin ever chose to marry her instead of Freya, then she could've suffered bloody more worse.... another, she kind of reminded me of oh, yes... the beautiful ol'.... Eir. Sorry, kind of distracted there, but I'll promise I won't pull meself off too much... if I could.

"AAH!!, haah, haah, haah. Oh, that was horrid!" The Unicorn suddenly shot her head up from the dust, breathin' heavily as she did so. How the stone did its job well done, she was now awakened from her slumber of unconsiousness, oh thank Týr for that. Immediately after wakin' up, which didn't startle Brother though, only gazing at her, she began to shake off her mane to make it nice and neatly clean. Aye lads, she must be in heft when it comes to looks, no wonder she's this over-stylish, very sensitive to her appearance physical.

"Rarity! Rarity you're okay." The young dragon then shot up past Brother, striding for the Unicorn named Rarity, and then gave her a warm and affectionate hug. The Unicorn was startled a bit, but nontheless patted the dragon's shoulder in return, a big sigh of refreshing relief entering his lungbags, overpowering that of his worries, for now...

Aye, such irony of romance for the two... very, charmed.

"Of course I'm okay Spikey-Wikey, why should I be not okay? Well except for my mane of course, oh which is now a bit of a mess, and my fur...oh, looks like I would need hours of bathing to clean off this icky filth." She said, while lamenting all the dirt scrapin' on her fragile body as well as her now-scruffy mane. Aye, I've never thought she'd had this much vanity within her. She must've really careful concernin' her looks...

"Thank Celestia you're okay Rarity." From behind, Fluttershy came about for the Unicorn, Brother and the lad simply lookin' on at her as she galloped and went past him and straight for her, still beside the young dragon, more relieved that one of her closest friends was safe thanks to our Spartan brother although he wouldn't give a shit about that.

Linking eyes towards Brother, Fluttershy thanked him for the effort he somewhat exterted to haul her up from unconsciousness. "Thank you, Mister. Whatever you did to Rarity, thank you very very much." A snort in return, for he cares little about gratitude, while the rest is as shocked out as some of those ponies.

"Oooh, Rarity!" The pink pony suddenly jumped out of nowhere and began to give Rarity a tight and air-restricting hug against her, "Ooh, I was so, so, so, so, so worried about you. I thought you were a goner there!" Close to constricting the air out of the Unicorn, who wasn't able to escape her air-depriving restraint the moment she jumped in.

"O-k-kay, darling, I'm al-alright, (wheeze) you may-kindly..let..go..now." she continued to be crushed by the pink lass's monstrous hug until she finally let her go, the white Unicorn gasping heavily for that fresh, cool, life-givin' air. Now that's a what's callin' a feat of mettle for a wee little horse like her.

"So, are we good now?" The seconds of eerie asundered by the young lad, everyone locked eyes at him. As this goes on, the white Unicorn began perking up as she trained scope on Brother, she asked:

"Ooh, I beg your pardon darling, but, who is this humongus tall creature standing few distances from me? I haven't seen somepony like him around here, is he new? Is he from here? Or did he came from somewhere?"

"Excuse me? Some "pony"? You mean some "body"? The lad muttered, himself hearken of the ponies' useage of the word "somepony" rather than "somebody" as we are familiar with. It trapped him some interest. Aye, for it is true to be frank—no trace of mankind existed in this realm, not even a trace as a single bone, a femur, mention, legend or even records of their presence from an earlier time. In conclusion, the dominant race here, in every soil, location, kingdom, civilization, of land, sky, and oceans alike, wherever one would seek to bound, that would be the ponies—bit peculiar it was, even for me, lads, the way they twist our spoken vocabulary into their own fittings is quite something worth an assess...

"Um, Rarity, this is Mr.-"

With just a measly, but understandable huff, Brother held off the yellow amidst her sentence, not actually fond of that mutterance she gave the beard-bristled bastard, startling her a tad bit, but...

"Oh, sorry. Rarity, this, this is, um... Kratos, and that's his son, Atreus. And he saved me from those baddies." Again Brother didn't respond, just peeling eyes stiff at the Unicorn.

"Ooh, he may have been a meanie to me, but you should have seen it, Rarity. The way he swings his axe and beating up those baddies, it was so bl-" as she rambled, she stumbled from her slew of sentences when Brother, instantly alerted by that single her utterance of that word would probably risk the Unicorn falling into unconsiousness, once more gave her another sickening handful.... on her right ear this time, giving a very quick hoist.

"Do not tell her, everything, understand?" After piercing a small but painfully sharp hole in her fearful face as his eyes ignited with what fierceness he mustered in his petty irascibility, he demanded the lass. A shaky but giddy simper streaking her teeth, she nodded anxiously, before she was unhanded down shortly after.

BOSSHK!

The lass clutchin' her right ear in massive pain, while scoffing right at the man. C'mon Brother, you know better than spite innocent a creature like her...

"Somebody, oh of course, you're not ponies I see darling. Non-ponies usually say "someone" but "somebody"? I am sorry."

The Unicorn, whispering something inaudible following that sentence— being with a passion for fashion as well as a frolic for cleanliness, had saw in her jewel-studded sapphire eyes of what Brother was encompassing himself around, in other words sporting. An armor suited for battle and battle alone, it was seen as of a barbaric appeal as it was unclean, equally unclean as the bearer that sported it. Being somewhat of a fanatic when it comes to conditioned outfitting, the Unicorn was born, and held within herself a deep but a somewhat carefully mannered intolerance surrounding unkempt and uncivilized clothing, and she had always satisfied this intolerance with all weight of her passion by taking the most sanitary possible action to those deemed unclean and those riddled with filth. And that's precisely what she withheld in deep thought upon taking her first glance of the way the Son of Zeus was dressed in, the sight of it threw her at edge. And it disgusted her, for it was so dreadening to the point that, and, it would have seemed like she was ready to take her kindness out, to crackle her knuckles, to show the scruffy, filthy ruffian standing feet of her what she's capable of, how awful and brazenly fierce she can really be—

But...

She couldn't.

She'd never.

Instead of doin' so, doing what she usually wants done, what she does the best, she chiefly leverages, and the most elegant way provided.

She didn't.

She eased down.

Breathing an intake calm as a honeysuckle's petal floating down the cushion.

Her fire smoldering to a harmless ember.

Instead of doing a rash course of immediate action to do the dirt in, she lamented, but in her most slightest level of tone she could:

"Oh, look at that armor of yours, darling, it's so barbaric. And look at that beard etching your face, oh it's so densly scruffy, sweet stars. Sounds like it would need a little bit of shaving, and a bit of a large-scale embellishing on all of it. Are you inhabiting a life full of this awful, dreadful filth? I must say, that style of living is not to be accepted, not on this civilized community you won't. Not to worry, dear, when all of these shenanigans come at a close, I'll make you that the most gorgeous and stunning garment a gentlecolt like you would put on at my boutique."

Those words she described of his state fell on ears hard as a rock, as much as his ears are completely unsealed, for Brother, retaining his steel-stiff adamant stature, seemed to disregard every phrase and sentence the Unicorn was giving him. Just as so remaining firm on his feet, he responded, coldly for one:

"No. "

It did take the Unicorn a few feet back mentally, for the utterance of simple an answer as that meant refusal to reshape his state of wrinkles and spots. Before she would bring herself to retort back to that answer, the Ghost of Sparta battered her down to the headstart, continuing:

"What I wear, or look, or of my state of insanitation is not of your concern." Well, Brother is not that type of man that had a taste for fashion, not even engage.

"I beg to differ, but if I could just try to modify your armor to make it spit-spot-." She tried talking back, but was ultimately shut off as the husk of wrinkles concluded her that:

"It is not of your concern." The utterance being louder than last by volume of tone. Though simple, they told her, and told her only for the last and final time, to keep her hooves separated from tampering who he was outwardly, to tell her that her vanity is something that's never valuable at best, lest she wants to face a painful and fiery lesson from that furrow-brow that is...

Rarity tried to protest further, but... seeing the eyes of the man that burned with heated fury, eyes that tell her to keep off, whatever he had kept, she thought, away and miles from her vicinity. She gave in, and decided to lay off, leave his looks and everything unhampered the way the Spartan wants in his own preference. With a soft and humble sigh pumped out:

"Oh, I see, then. That's alright, darling. If you want to keep that look of yours the way you wish to prefer, then that would be tolerable with me."

"Hmmmmmph."

Spike: "Rarity, what happened to you? Did you dream something?"

"Oh, it was horrible, Spikey-Wikey. There I was back in the Carousel Boutique. Then we were attacked by these Storm brutes and Sweetie Belle was stuck in the closet. The ruffians were after her, but something was different about them. They glowed horrid blue and orange, and, and Ooh! The horror!" As soon as she uttered that string of syllables, I noticed that, what she was referring to when she described her nightmare and I thought, in my quippy own braincase....

"Hel energy and Seiðr magick... so that's what happened in that nightmare of hers. Hmm."

"And then what happened?"

"Oh, it was so deadly horrendous. Sweetie Belle...She...she-" the Unicorn's eyes began to open up a small tear, a tear filled with griefing emotion, so sad, that flows down from her eyes straight down her face. And then...

She cried.... she weeped of all the emotion overwhelming her lips, that emotional breakdown winning the fight against her lips, against the words trying to break free from her throat, breaking down her own steadfastness. Unable to fathom the dreaded conclusion that had stricken down someone, a significant other, someone she so dearly loved with all her pounding heart...

But as for Brother...

Oh no...

Just those words, and the sight of that emotional bout illustrated... it reminded him... of something....

Something unspeakable, terrible even...

Something he was to forget years ago....

His head, it started showing off some array of twitches, each one growing more prominent, with each buildup of twitching growing horrible and ever escalating like ice exhibiting slowly lengthening crevices from cracks that they had made existant with. Never leaving, only worsening. Its only purpose to bring about and excel torture. Nothing else but torture alone. Until that twitching eventually sliding, transforming into quick shaky jerking, so prominent and patent, that groped the feignin' attention of his nearby young son, inches next to him, it did.

"Father? What's wrong?" What he asked fell on deaf ears as his father's head begin to twitch on, jerked on something so familiar to him, so close to his brain, an attachment so firm and so closely held tight, that despite all these years, these periods of extreme endeavour, it would always remain with him, wherever he goes, whatever he does... inside his brain.

Never detatching.

Not ever.... it was a scene that reminded him...

A scene abstaining pleasantness. An everlasting scene. A scene that will always centrifuge all round, all day long as it damn pleased, around his brain. Constantly playing. Constantly showing itself, without shame. Without mercy. Without sympathy.

Nothing.

And would always haunt him for the rest of his misery-driven life, always a close and constant companion till the tail end of his own eternity, in the coldest, grimmest pits of Hel.

And finally, it would always remind him... of the despicable atrocity that this monster committed those years passed. A somber reminder... of the monster he had become...

Of what he had done.... years ago....

During his lifetime of ever-ghastly hells that constantly drove him mad for blood... mad as a Wulver...

A family member, two at most... mowed down, blood streaked... by a monster....

Aye....

That vision....

"Argh!" Brother growled out loud, falling to his knees as he quickly kept himself elevated using his two palms, planted against the cold, dusty marble floor, the dust flying along, being the only means of keeping him from impacting into a dark unconsiousness. Panting heavily, as it all began to flood his memory once more, coming back to haunt him, to make him tremble upon himself, completely blotting out the worried cries of his wee boy... and all others behind his ass... completely. What he feared.... what he was trying to rid himself of....

To forget...

It resurfaced once more....

Like mentioned... to remind him...

Of that monstrosity...

That night....

(Zooms into Kratos' eyes, initiating a flashback)

Kratos: IIIIUUUUAAAAAGH!!! (Blades swinging sideways)
Lysandra and Calliope: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!
Kratos: They were left in Sparta.
Kratos: AAAREEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!!
Village Oracle: The mark of your terrible deed will be visible to all. The ashes of your wife and child will remain fastened to your skin, never to be removed.
Kratos: AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHHHH!!!!!!

(Flashback ends with a screech, returns to Kratos' face)

Brother fell down.... for the horror he tried to erase, to forget, to put behind, it seized him, haunted him.... again, like a Nightmare that soared around sowing its nutrition of such nefarious nightmares.

Those harrowing images....

Of his greatest fatal mistake commited...

Aye...

But those who noticed that I was repeating the whole thing over and over... My apologies, just... trying to build a little bit of suspense on that issue... well, it's been far since I released word-full of these stories, must've gotten a bit rusty on the way... sorry, but let's just go with it. But I promise ye that I'll make shorter that suspense buildup...

Struggling to stand up by his hands, temple slumped deep down to the ground, the sweat of terror flowin' down his head.... for it... it, wasn't supposed to happen....

But because of one mere mention.... of a family member slaughtered by a monster....

It did....

A poor, a-hum.. miserable old bastard he is....

"Father! Hey Father! What happened?! What's wrong with you?!" The young lad asked his father, expression in the mix of confusion and was as worried as a giant in the frozen wastes of Midgard. Though much had been blown out ever since Brother had to, crossing no other choices, because of that bloody sickness. Not all had been exploited, however.

Two twigs intertwine as we speak, that the lad still did not aquire acknowledgement by his da's admission that he had bore himself a family long before the son. The family he had stained their innocent blood with... to be frank lads, he engrossed me with a lot through with his lifetime. I was supposed to spill everythin' to the boy, but, fearing for his response for such abhorant revelation, he bawled me off right on my face. And yes, it was true, if I have the lad ingest the molten ice relayed me by that wrinkle-skin, that could portend potentially hazardous outcomes, and the result would be borderin' on terrifying uncertainty, even for me, so that's where I put everything lads, for it may be risky, but that seems to do it, for now, if we could hold compartmentalization on that, that is...

The people surrounding the near-waste of bones shifted gazes on him, both loose and direct. Some exchanging glances for one another, some simply watching his plight, puzzled being the best choice of word to describe the response that dominated their heads, also some casting cascades upon cascades of murmurs and hardy-heard wording in regard to his weighted situation...

Some murmurs I can give ye:

Capper: "Hey, is he okay, he looks a bit...broke or something."

Mullet: "What's with him? Did his neck cracked or what?"

Lix Spittle: "I dunno what's with him, must be the the heat or whatnot?"

Calaeno: "What's going on with him?"

Fluttershy: "Oh, dear. Kratos, are you okay?"

As they kept on with their murmuring, the yellow one being the most worried of the bunch.

Ponderous breathing, sweat as cold as a snowflake dripping rivers' down, coiling, trickling, flowing down his thick, ash-white skin as it makes a quiet splash towards the ground, after that horrendous slew of endless visions he was forced endearing, Brother's breathing heavy with strain, synchronizing the aftermath of his traumatic breakdown. It didn't took much long, after picking himself back on his knees, though hands still a tad shaky after that he bridged through, and slowly but steadily rising up as his mind was slowly receding of the painful memories, slowly imprisoning them in ice, keeping them, holding from tainting his own cloud of thinking, his son behind him all the way, helping him get to his feet, it took little for his visions that plagued his mind perennial seemingly fading out. His head.... seemingly now empty of such horrid visions, as he slowly rose up higher and letting go of his hand from the ground panting still, and he was now quite.... fine.

Maybe.

"Father, what happened?"

"Nothing. Huff, huff... I am fine Boy."

"Bu-but, I saw you-"

"What happened to me does not concern you, boy. You need not mind it." Brother, speaking a rasp-stricken tone, stopped the lad before he could egg his load on, while the pink mare had considered helpin' him cheer up, but seeing the treatment he exhibited on her—and so she shifted her winds to the white one instead.

"Okay." The lad replied, deciding not to become a pester off his father's shoulder.

Speakin' of which....

The white Unicorn....who is still cascaded off every tears on eyes, dribbling with the upheaval of her most sensitive emotions, usually when it comes to all that drama trifle she always gets into. But this time's different I assure. A-a-hum, the dragon and the pink lass beside prodding on her real dearly as the horrors of what she told them about her younger sister felt like real, muttering something that somewhat, to me, told her to let everything out. Such a pity for a little damselfly as such, a poor prone tad snowflake shedding on a heap of snow indead. By Tyr's kindness do I feel so sorry for her back in that day.

I felt so sorry, so like, like willing to also provide a little bit of help, you know, sharing the pang of sentiment with those people—the reverberating of her sobs, growing intense, was as heavy as a block of ice, that by the milk of Auðumbla, in most ways the opposite of the lugger I was strung on—sure both of us, the boy included, are a good bunch, but... seeing as Brother is not of a type that drowns himself in pity, well—I... (sob) I was shot. Shot down with all the most profound duly, as if I lost myself a son if I had any, a father, or a brother, a family even, if I had them back with me for certain. Like the fires of sentiment assaulting the wall that contained all my tears. If that burnt to cinders however, I could have. I should have. But abstained I have, I had to keep myself shut, I had to remain strong, stone-stiff. Because that should pose some risk in front of everybody because you know (sob)—talking head.

Imagine that... if I ever lose two of my most humble friends a talking head would ever stumble, I'd probably feel the same quite frankly.

"Shhh, there, there, Rarity. It's only just a dream." The drake patted the Unicorn in the shoulder with all the sentiment he could offer, returned by a heart-warming wrap around his spine as she continued her weeping on his belly, urged to let everything in tears drip down, while the pink mare tried her silliest to cheer her spirits up.

"Don't cry silly-filly, cuz we're gonna beat the cakes outta Stormy Wormy and save Equestria! After which, we throw ourselves a huge party!" Heh, heh, heh, heh, even after all the darkness that plague her surroundings, no matter how many dangers she faces, or even how many times Brother hurts her this numerous much, she always keeps her smile tender and holds firm her cheerfulness... big as.... I'll be damned as a kick by a Draugr to the ass me lads, for what a fascinatin' lassie she is to have company.

As she wiped off her tears, "Th-Thanks, Pinkie Pie darling. I'm feeling better now." Then, with a newfound hope and determination surging within her inner system, nightmares she described blotted off by her spirit, the optimism that slowly heightened her energy steadily, all that valor heightening. After all the hardships she did to make it this far, a perk tall and as candidly steadfast, as headstrong as a man stranded in the unforgiving frosts of Helheim. And aye, with this courage bestowed upon her thanks to the jolly efforts that jolly lil' pony had offered, all tears she got rubbed dry in a nick, and in spite of all things under her medium relating to her looks and beauty, she declared, stiff and final as an unfearing Enherjar who stood true to his code in his very finest stand in the tides of war: "I may going to let myself fall down like a fragile lady I am. I may concern about my looks, I know I can't stand violence, brutality, and barbarism. But I will stand up. I'm not going to just let those scoundrels overtake Equestria and get away with it. If that meant for the sake of my friends. Then I swear to Celestia's crown that I'm willing to get my hooves and my mane all braced filthy if it's the last thing I do. That's what a true lady really is."

And that might you call, a daring and bravery-inspiring speech, and oh by Tyr's might, right in the bloody face of adversity and the ubiquitous terror it struck! This is what a true warrior's supposed to dwell for, what he's standing for, to struggle and fight for the honor and the best of what he holds dearest, be it the people or his homeland. And that lads, is why a true warrior never turns his back acoil on anything, no matter what it takes, or whatever odds standing his way.

"That's the spirit milady. Glad you're back." Capper responded clean as confindent for the lady.

"Yaaay." exclaimed the yellow Pegasus, with a very... faint voice. I'd say, her shyness really is quite the real thing for her innit?

"Oh, Thank you m'dear. Now let us fire ourselves up and kick—"

"WAAAAIT!! WE FORGOT SOMEPONY!!" The little pony we good people henceforth will refer to as—Pinkie Pie, interrupted what the Unicorn was dictating her objection—everybody collected together, hearing her wails, shot her various glances, with Brother doing so without any mutterance of anything, just blankly and silent towards her, never taking anything about her abhorantly ear-breaking tone of voice there, just being as frigid as there was a towering ice statue standing meters with the rest of our group here.

"What is it, Pinkie Pie?" Fluttershy asked her.

"We forgot Rainbow Dash and Applejack!" She yelled, everyone all gulp down each other's lungs the most heard gasps they had ever had haled in, for all those people seemed to know who Pinkie Pie was referring to, as won't the lot of us, since then back there we didn't even try guessing nor question who were they so shocked in for. Because we knew them, we saw it with our very wide eyes, and we can bet our bony withers that we, for our part, is already punctual all the way, only never giving the others not a semble of a word, nor be pointed.

We simply knew, knew before the others, nor can the pink pony, could even sum up.

Who those two she's refering to, that's right. You can easily guess it—two forms of life, lying on the dusty, and lifeless floor further in the background, surrounded by rows upon rows of those once-illustious, now gravely misshapen structures sprawling around, staring blankly, lifelessly, right down their lying forms.

The blue Pegasus.... judging by what Pinkie called her, is named Rainbow Dash. No wonder why she's called that lads. That mane of hers, it's in the colors of the rainbow, exactly like the very bridge that twines any realm to that of Odin's gold-ridden haven... a very apt yet peculiar way to name it.

And the orange pony with a hat... named, Applejack.

"Rainbow-who? Who they're talking to Father? Was it someone they know? Someone they, um..." Young Atreus to the 'da on who the pink one was pointing out to, but it seemingly fell on deaf ears, as his small baggy eyes kept peeling on into the surroundings, towards the world blacketed by the darkness that seemed to consume the delicate peace this realm runs on to—a type of darkness that seemed no ending as we speak, like it did occured naturally and perennially, and with the crumbled and sprawling structures that vary in built—all that lay in absolute waste littered with nothing but dust, to add grim aptness to the ordeal.

And as he, the former Fist of Ares, seemingly not confering heed to any word the lad's saying. And a great background of pure, ear-ringing silence dominated the whole atmosphere that all of us good people are forced to endure—broken only by the curious questions the boy tried relaying his 'da, and each time, time and time he kept on questioning and questioning, did he never took it in any way asserted, whether be by movement, a twitch... not even a swivel from his adamantine thick neck. But just as he is about to oust more and more from his tiny young lips...

He suddenly went dead.

Dead in the middle of his lyric...

"Father, are you even-" Just like that. At this moment that he had broken his slur of questions, as he had seen as the father's head had twisted his neck languid in the swift of the second.

Curiousity growing more hungrily, "Um, where are you looking a-" the instant he turned his eyes away from his father and into the direction of his head, he stopped, he narrowed his eyes to get a clearer look to what Brother's seen' from futher on the background...

What he saw surprised him a tad bit....

What he and Brother saw...

Was her...

The blue Pegasus...

"Hmm....Boy. Tell them. We found her."

"Uh, yes Sir." He understood what his father meant as he was turning himself to everyone behind him so that he'll be gonna inform them of what they've found...

"Hey everyone! We found something! Over here!" He cried in an echoing voice. As for everyone, who heard his cries, they complied and hurried for him.

As they were runnin' about, "Ooh, I sure hope Rainbow Dash's okay." Said the worried Fluttershy as she and her friends were on their way towards the boy, wasting no time to save one of her friends.

Their friend....

As they bound themselves off their way, further on the side of the rubbled structures, is a cage—a cage that contains—a lone prisoner. A prisoner who, just like an animal or a measly beast in a menagerie, has no way of escape, and no way to see the fresh light of freedom that he so longed to haul in. And he was a pony, like all that thrives his world. And he was a rather odd one considering his looks—lined with wrinkles on his features, and on his eyes a pair of glasses of sorts, tinted with a deep amber, and a smooth down and ruffled grey mane. By the looks of it and everything, he was very senile, and spoke with a voice no younger than that of Brother's... an old man's voice.

"Hey. Somebody get me outta these cages, I've got plenty and a ton of stories to tell, and I'm not supposed to be stuck in here sittin' around and crap. Hell, I'm not even supposed to be in this story. Hello? Somebody?"

No one answered, leaving this old pony to rot and wither for the rest of his ripen life.

"Oh... oh, gee."

"Oh well. Excelsior."

1 minute later

Everyone stood in front of Rainbow Dash. Aye, ice-cold on the dusty streets after that swift yet astonishing swatting she garnered from that magic-accursed fur-mess, lying on the floor, chunks and splinters of stuff accompanying her motionless form—well after all lads, she had hit many rows of hard and solid stuff the moment she was sent zoomin' out by that swat... so hard, that's going to leave a feignin' mark on her part. Just as everyone could broker even a small rustle, Brother landed with his son at the scene lastly just in time hoping to see the Pegasus for themselves, as soon as the boy saw her at last in more closer proximity, he asked his father:

"Is this the one they're looking for? That's the one Father?"

With only the feeblest of nods to a go, Brother gave his confirmation to that question as he continued his undetached gazing at the downed, almost out blue one. As everyone kept fixing on their eyes, the smart-ass conman... as they had worded me back then, broke off from his own blank sightseeing and, detatching from the group to step closer—down on his knee, he checked her out about on her condition, paws prowling around the fur as he prodded every part he could rub on, from the skull, to the tail, probably trying to feel his bloodiest the tiniest semblance of pulses from her pumping off her skin as her heart would pulsate in sustenance of life as we know it.

As everyone started to worry about her very life, well—scantly hopefully for them however, girl made her first but sudden swing of movement—she started to cough out dust, accomodating relief the lungs cool for one of her friends, thank the blessings of the Valkyries for that... sparing her from the bittery grasp of Hel and making it out most of her intact, barely.

"(sigh), she's okay."

Feeling relieved, he then told everyone.

"She's okay. She's breathing." Everyone showed expressions of relief as they're told that she was alright, having survived that horrid ordeal barely, her groaning heard all around as she tried hardly to pull open her eyes...

It was no use.

She can't.

The pain she sustained her delicate features was too much to seep in energy to even open her eyes.

The heavy toll of pain she sustained definitely put her system at this much levels of excruciation....

She continued to cough out more dust from her mouth, with some droplets of life-giving blood to mix in the contents, as everyone shot out various moments of worry and shock in response, in addition to the cake-colored mare's mane becoming flat again.

Rarity: "Rainbow Dash, darling."

Fluttershy: "Rainbow Dash. No."

Capper: "Rainbow."

There was a bleak moment of silence, the bleakest in a long time of chaos and carnage, the longest we have got into since, um... let's here, how could I put this, ehh—sorry lads, I couldn't remember my rusty ol' brain with that one, like I told ye, I'm still just fresh out of that damned tree and a fresh sprouting of reanimation from that point there.

Anywho, with the blue Pegasus named—Rainbow Dash—oh, fascinating—a-hum, still groanin' her throat. Everybody's face continued to look on in corncernin' worry. As everyone was going to express their sadness about her not-so-good bodily condition....

"Boy." Brother muttered as he summoned his son. Everyone didn't notice as they were too busy grieving over their pained friend....

Atreus: "Yes?"

"To her. Now." Well, well, well, for a big grumpy mellow shellhead, Brother actually kind of had a soft spot in him for someone after all....well besides his son and wife. He tossed another Health Stone to the lad in hopes of recovering the prone Pegasus nearby.

"Yes Sir." Catching the stones, he complied as he began coming past everyone straight to his intended patient, the Pegasus, to be remedied of her painful burden about with the Health Stone.

Atreus: "Don't worry. I'll take care of her, just hold on."

Capper: "Okay, I hope you know what you're doin'."

The long lad then lifted her hoof, followed by him placing the healing stones underneath her. Then, like before, using her held hoof, the lad slammed it at the stone. Boom! It goes...

BOOM! (Green energy exploding)

We slit a few seconds, a few seconds.... let's spit it together shall we? 1, 2, 3-

"AAAH! Ouuh!" The blue Pegasus suddenly shot up, startling the lad a tad bit, while garnering various semblances of relief and a fresh intake of the oh, the Ymir-bestowed flow of air within their lungs. Still unstartled though, he backed away a few inches from her. Barely even keeping her legs, the winged horse began to breath heavily as she struggled her worst to keep her legs at steady on her own weight:

"Wha-wha-what happened? Where did I-oof!" She was suddenly met with another one of Pinkie's deathly hugs, again... much like before, nearly squeezin' the feigning life out her withers, the precious supply of air she was desperate to inhale constrained off her nose, her spine nearly broken like a twig under the seemingly potent strength applied by the little squeaker:

"Ooooh, Dashie! Thank goodness! Oh, I'm so, so, so, so glad you're okay, we thought we lost you like for-EVER!!, Ooh, Dashie, please don't ever scare me again, okay!?"

Rainbow Dash: (squeezed voice) "O-o, okay...now...Pinkie, I-I-I..won't. I-I'm...okay now...please...w-will..you..let..m-me be n-n-now?"

Pinkie: "Oh, sorry Dashie."

Heh, heh, heh, quite an adorble yet a very deadly display of affection, eh lads?

Unwrapping her friend, she bounced around back to her bunch of good people. The Pegasus, of course, after that incredibly unpleasant experience she went through—earning a hammering hard to her skull, really did a profound jumble on her bones, but saying that she had only just lost a spit of it after all that befell on her temples—she asked:

"What the, where the hay am I, why I oughta, where'd that jerk go? Why I'm not finished with him yet! Grr, when I get my hooves on that creep, nopony messes with me and gets- WAAH! " As the arrogant flying horse hovered a tad around aimless seeking, fruitlessly, the Storm Guard that knocked the skull out of her, but the moment she got herself searching, she quickly finds herself bumping right into the face of someone—oh, by the Gods no, it's him, not this bag of muscle of all people.

Reminds me of the time when in a story that I was indelibly proud to enthrall me friends—the time when Thamur bumped into the one man met he doesn't like.... and was also his demise...

Thor.

"Whoawhoawhoa!!" the bluish girl sputtered as the grim tall man just close to contact made a very deep and roughly groaning out his neck, paddling her way back in her own confusion and surprise as said grimmed man kept on gazing his balls her way, hostility probably the most plausible disposition resonating on that stare, she thought, a little, ventilating her nose up with some apprehension as she offered back her own looking towards the man.

The Pegasus flew back to her friends, frightened after meeting face-to-face with the man staring at her coldly for the moment, behind the cat named Capper, askin' him:

"Who the heck is that, or should I say, what the heck is that thing?"

Brother snarled, lighting up slightly upon hearing referral from the girl about him as a "thing". Sure he tolerates being called such things, as he went through before, he simply rubs it away like they were of no significance, only takin' it as like an itch on a patch of his skin.

Capper: "No worries girl. He's a... a guest, a friend. Whatever he is."

The Pegasus still hid behind him, after a few moments, the yellow lass took the stand and inroduced Brother towards the blue mare, along with his son, her left stretched out for the two figures standing a pint of distance from her, the blue one turning eyes on the left's trajectory .

"Umm, Rainbow Dash, I'd like you to meet Kratos. And this his his son Atreus."

Turning to Brother, she then introduced the blue mare to him:

"And Kratos. This is Rainbow Dash, she's one of my friends." The lad simply waved at her in response to his introduction of each other...

Rainbow Dash: "Oh, I see."

Pinkie: "Dashie!"

Rainbow Dash: "Aah!"

Then out of the sudden, the pink lass from before appeared right on bloody cue and startled the blue Pegasus. What a silly little bugger she is, heh, heh, heh.

"Oh, you won't believe what Kratos did to those Storm baddies Dashie!! Wish you could've seen all the action!! He was like WAAH!! and then he was like HAAAAH!! and guess what, he beat all those meanies by himself! He was like crazy swinging his axe! It was the coolest, and not to mention extremly gruesome, but still the coolest, awesomest fighting I've ever seen!!(Imitates Kratos' swinging arms)"

Rainbow Dash: "Whoa, whoa, whoa, lemme get this straight, so this old geezer beat the living hay out of those jerks by himself. Pffff, I don't believe it. No way, there's no way that guy could beat this fast. Just look at 'im, I don't see any reason for him so strong, I don't see him have any muscles. I mean he's so old and scrawny, look, that he'll probably swing his axe thing straight to his flank."

Those slur of sentences, resonating of nothing but pure derision, scoff, and scorn, gave the overhearing man a little bit of trigger on his side, like a small dagger running through his heart of steel, it kept him departed from being easy—almost at the very edge of erupting all his white-hot rage out, the trajectory of the fire raging within his dark-earth eyes concentrated on the one that spat such mockery like a flurry of knives, or better, a broadside of swords. But he kept himself stiff, so hither to blowin' up, but stiff, calm, and restrained as he possibly could hold in, as so he couldn't so a thing so rash and impetuous as he'd be fool to alienate the lot of his company whom he sought to finish what he was embarking and hurl his ass back home on rugged ol' Midgard.

"And who's that little squirt over there, he looks like kind of a small dork."

Hearing this harsh mockery, the lad attempted to lash out at the insolent Pegasus, and thank the gods for the hand that tugs the feisty lil' goat kid back by whoever else but his 'da—the Ghost of Sparta.

"Boy." Brother. Though felt a knife gorging through in his heart, he managed to stop the boy from firing up a ruse that could consequently crumble down this newly-established alliance they had forged with these odd creatures. I never thought this lassie could be this full of herself, kind of reminded me of the Æsir back in the day—and aye that was some day that I came to regret, and as repercussion it cost me my arms and limbs, talk 'bout the way in how life is supposed to be livin': a life full of prices... hard prices that is forced to be paid with—especially when you talk about my case here—a limbless, helpless head with no ways of defense or, a proper way to artifice me own life whatsoever, just depending on anyone strong to keep me hoisted up.

Oy, enough bollocks, lads, can't afford carrying meself away in the wind ye know...

"Oh pffft, please, if I was there, I'll blow past that old hairy chin of his away when I perform my most a-"

WHOK WHOK WHOK WHOK

CHLLK!!

CHHIILLL!! (Ground cracking)

And the Pegasus was cut off in the middle of her own haughty boastin' when she felt somethin' swing narrowly near her at immense speeds, as fast as Mjölnir's own speed may compare, suddenly shockin' the big bolt out of the mare, as the winds that seemed to appear in her right all of a sudden to blow past her, tugging her colorful ol' mane into a fluent and smooth thicket, as well poofing out in a puff of dust and air the ego and all the pointless pride she'd exhibited seconds ago.

It was none other than the Ghost of Sparta, the still apparent monster who still seemed lived only to shed blood... slightly sacrilaged.... teeth a bit gritted like an angry Ogre....

One who never tolerates arrogance...

One who repudiates anything as dangerous, and as costing as pride...

What she just did somethin' so incessant... that it somewhat ignited the fire that burns still within him—the same fire that he tried to contain within himself.

He actually threw his dwarf-bestowed axe, the Leviathan, whose might and prowess possibly rival that of Mjölnir, straight at the Pegasus, but the idea was to narrowly and intentionally miss. Close enough as to not actually kill her. Just to keep her frozen and her pride dissipate.

The Pegasus gulped what spit she collected within her jaws, her large balls for eyes never refusin', even if she wanted to because she had done it. But she could never. Never will. As the person—the man, who threw his deadliest of weapons at whose trajectory only stripped off only little strands of hair from her head, continued to send a heated glare, a glare so hot, hot as the brightest flames maybe, a fire that rivals that of Musplelheim itself, that this alone would be enough to melt even the toughest metals of the Nine Realms, and even he could not do anything when everyone so close to him gasped their lungs out for what happened. Oh I tell ye lads—for the brazen mockery she spat out, the sheer but foolish boldness she tried, the arrogance, the pride, all things of great ruin, was something that she, to the Ghost of Sparta, Killer of Gods—dreaded, and would one day opt... to regret.

T O . B E . Ω . C O N T I N U E D

Another definition of a hero is someone who is concerned about other people's well-being, and will go out of his or her way to help them -- even if there is no chance of a reward. That person who helps others simply because it should or must be done, and because it is the right thing to do, is indeed without a doubt, a real superhero...

Nuff said...

STAN LEE
1922-2018

A T R E U S . B E S T I A R Y

CAPPER

Aside from those talking horses, called... ponies? I guess. Also, there's this strange cat-looking creature that also talks. I believe they call him, Capper is it? Oh yeah, Capper. Not much known have I got with this guy, or where he came from or what's he doing. (sigh) I seriously need to learn more and more about this weird new world and how it works.

Author's Note

Sorry guys for taking such a hell of a long long freaking long time. I really, desperately, and not lyingly need an extra hand in writing down the next chapters, and whoever helps me on the way, till the end of the line, will be credited by me. No seriously, I don't kid, I really, really need some of your help right now if I wanna make it out of this.

Wanted: Editor, with Docs

Before the next chapter I'll be dropping in a trailer of another story, connected to this universe.