An Ancient Evil

An Ancient Evil

Chapter 1: Anxiety in The Order

“On the blood of our fathers/ On the blood of our sons/ It is our duty to bare/ Until time itself is done.” – Order of the Sealed Flame

“Its power has not ceased in days, milord. I fear that if this continues the Order may no longer be able to hold the seal.”

“I am starkly aware of our situation, Lambda,” sighed the Elderly Unicorn. His eyes shone of concern and anxiety, both of which drew the age even further from his face. “See to it that Delta and Omicron reinforce the barrier even further. It appears we must once more begin constant maintenance of the seal…”

“Consider it done, milord,” responded Lambda. As she turned away she felt sorry for the greying Unicorn known as Epsilon, but more importantly she could not stave off the deeply rooted anxiety gathering in her chest.

Moments later, Lambda moved across the great hall to face the double reinforced, magically sealed, airtight, nearly impervious doors that guarded the Great Seal. As she neared the monstrosities known as the Gates of Mythica, Lambda lowered her head until her horn came parallel to the granite floor beneath her hooves. As she continued her stride she carefully inserted her singular horn into a small, conical hole in the Gates.

“On the blood of our fathers/ On the blood of our sons/ It is our duty to bare/ Until time itself is done.” The words seemed to echo across the monolithic walls of the Great Hall, and so too did they seem to resonate peculiarly with the Gates before Lambda. Then, with a grinding of metal, the conical opening shone an amber light through the small crevice surrounding Lambda’s horn. With that the massive doors gave way, opening forth into an immense chamber.

The chamber itself was a grave contrast to the marble floors and vaulted ceilings of the Great Hall. Where the Hall was wonderful in its grandeur this room was plane and dark. Rising up the walls and to the ceiling was a strange haze that seemed to disallow light from the chamber’s uppermost extremities to reach the level upon which Lambda stood. Within the chamber there was also no furnishings and no real light save for twenty-four candles that loomed starkly at the opposite end of the chamber.

“Delta, Omicron, Epsilon would have you further reinforce the Seal. He fears the worst as well, it seems,” said Lambda, breaking the silence of the chamber.

“Understood,” said a voice somewhere near the candles.

“Aye,” responded another.

Lambda proceeded to move farther into the bleakness of the chamber, her hoof falls echoing across the hazy interior of the room about her. As she drew closer to the candles it became evident that they were arranged in a circle, and what’s more that only 5 burned brightly. The other 19 seemed dim by comparison, their flickering visages dancing feebly in a wind that seemed to be felt only by them. Upon reaching the outer ridge of the candle-lit circle Lambda also drew into view the faces of two antlered figures. Angled forward and to her right stood Omicron, an immense elk-like deer, and opposite him stood Delta, an equally large figure of the same pedigree.

“Only five still burn brightly,” said Omicron as he broke stance, taking a step further into the candlelight. Now without the hazy darkness to skew his visage Lambda took in his familiar features: a height rivaling Celestia’s, a mane that seemed to rest not on just his neck but grew from the entirety of his neck and chest before dropping just shy of the ground, a flitting bob for a tail, immense antlers, and fierce blue eyes. All of this was compounded with his snowy white coat, a trend that deviated only at his strange “mane” which was speckled black in the regions about his chest. “If they continue the trend we’ve been witnessing…”

“We will have little hope of keeping it held within its cage,” these words boomed from Delta, a stag that heavily resembled Omicron, save for his pale blue coat. “Perhaps it would be best to warn the Princess of what is going o-…”

“You know as well as I do that we are not endowed with the ability to make such drastic decisions. That is left to Epsilon. We must await his order to carry forth any correspondence with her highness,” replied Lambda, cutting Delta off before he could continue. “Should we prematurely send word to Celestia, especially when concerning such grave circumstances, we run the risk of inciting pandemonium. Such would be playing directly into its hands, and you know it.”

“Aye,” responded both deer, their eyes sagging slightly at their oversight.

“Now then I suggest you begin the reinforcements. I’d wager that we have very little time left before we see its strength bolster once more,” said Lambda.

“I’d bet money on it, wouldn’t you say, Delta,” sighed Omicron, his heavy baritone echoing across the chamber.

“I’d take that action, if I were the betting type,” replied Delta, his slightly higher pitched tone reverberating with Omicron’s echoes to form a strange harmony in the haze. As the sounds of the two voices colliding continued on, Lambda took her leave, and as she exited the sounds of the two deer and their voices were swallowed in the shadow.

With Lambda no longer in the candlelight the two deer began to canter about, squaring off as if to fight. Their heavy hoof falls sent loud, thundering echoes about the deeply resonate chamber. Slowly they continued to canter, their hooves ever so slowly inching inward until finally, the two met with a “CLACK!” of their antlers. From here they differed from their species’ indicative behavior, for as it were they neglected to further exert force upon one another. The now linked mess of antlers seemed to be the goal they wished to achieve, and as such they both began to evoke a metaphysical force from one another as they closed their eyes.

Suddenly, both stags opened their eyes to reveal that both of their irises’s now shone with an ambient white light. Their heads tilted from side to side, then, causing their antlers to clack gently against one another’s tines. Directly after this came a rush of wind that extinguished the flickering nineteen candles and in their stead left five miniature bonfires dancing brightly atop those that remained lit.

Apparently satisfied with what had occurred, they slowly backed apart, their snowy and pale blue bodies each returning to its respective place in the haze.