Ch.1/Story 1- MLP: Blackwater
My eyes slowly flutter open to reveal the soft light of the sun shining down upon my face. It's been so long since I felt the sun that I almost forgot what it was like to have light shining through my window like this.
The gentle rays of the sun caressed my cheek and beckoned me out of bed. I did as commanded, and sat up, letting out a silent yawn and stretching my hooves out before unceremoniously dropping them to my sides. I didn't quite have the energy to maintain a pose just yet. but I would get there. Eventually.
I sluggishly dragged my legs over the side of my bed and hopped off, landing with surprising grace onto my hooves, and making barely a sound as I did so.
Before I could congratulate myself on my cat-like reflexes, I felt a familiar weight at my sides. I shook myself free of whatever sleep was left in my system and flared out my wings, giving them a good stretch as well. Wouldn't want to pull a muscle after all.
As I walked about my bedroom, looking around absentmindedly for nothing in particular, a flickering yellow light drew my attention to the vanity mirror a few hoofsteps away from my bed.
I walked over to it and inspected my reflection in the glass. I frowned and wiped my mouth as the feeling of wet fur came rushing in along with the sight of it.
I groaned. I had drooled in my sleep again. That was the third time this week. What was I, a foal?
For the longest time, I did nothing but stare into the mirror, my focus draining as I stared off into space.
When I finally managed to regain control over my attention span I unfolded my wings and stared intensely at them, giving them a proper once over.
I was genuinely surprised at just how big they had gotten. My mother always said I was blessed with bigger wings than most other pegasi. I suppose she was right after all.
A gust of wind blasted into my room, sending a shiver down my spine. I covered myself with my hooves, trying to warm up. I looked around for the source of the offending weather and noticed that the window next to my mirror was open. I promptly closed it and went back to staring into the mirror.
Deciding to stop myself before I drifted off again staring at my wings, I turned my attention to the candle on the desk at the foot of my bed. It was the only source of light in my room save for the ring of lights on my vanity mirror, and even those were rather dim.
It made for quite a scene. A lone mare sitting in a room alone, silhouetted by nothing more than the light a softly flickering candle.
I chuckled to myself at the thought, walking over to the light and picking it up, staring at it. I don't know why, but there was something about the light that fascinated me. I could stare at it all day and never grow bored.
Luckily I was broken free of the clutches of the flames by a knock on my bedroom door.
"Sis? You up yet?"
It was him. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. Without moving from my spot I said, "Yeah, come in."
All was silent as I waited for the tell-tale sign of him opening the door. And surely it came. The sound of the knob turning rung in my ears, the lock clicked and the door cracked open.
And in walked my brother. I gave him a smile before I spoke "Hi, Ocean Burn. What's up?"
My gaze followed his steps as he walked further into the room, candle in hoof. "Nothin' much, sis. Just seein' if you were awake. Mom's waitin' for us downstairs. Says breakfast is ready."
I contemplated his words for a moment. "hmm..." I lifted my head to look at him. Dressed in leather from head to toe with a mane like blue flames rising up from his head. Coupled with his perpetual glare and rather blunt way of speaking, he had the appearance of a stereotypical street thug.
If it wasn't for the way he acted, you'd think he was a part of a gang.
I was just about to drift off onto memory lane, when he snapped my out of my racing train of thought with a single word.
"Sis?"
"Huh? What? Oh, I...well...sure, let's go!" I said, tearing my hooves away from where they had gotten comfortable on the desk.
As I made my way over to the door, Ocean following close behind me, I heard a soft chuckle emanate from him as he said, "Daydreaming again, sis?"
"Shut up!" I whisper-yelled, batting him softly across the back of the head with a hoof. My entire family knew about my bad habit, and my brother took every opportunity he could to tease me about it.
"Relax, i'm just teasing." He said with a smug grin that made me want to hit him again. I frowned at him and turned away, continuing down the stairs to dining area.
All my anger dissipated as the sweet smell of pancakes filled the air, and my nose.
I bounded down the stairs like an over-eager filly, followed closely by my brother. I only stopped when I reached the very last step, which I once again gracefully stepped down from as if I were some dainty noblemare.
We were both hungry as an ox and mother made the best hay pancakes.
We sat down at the table, our hearts beating faster than a ceremonial drummer, and waited with bated breath for the heavenly dish to be brought before us.
"Well somepony's eager!" We heard our mother say. We could hear her approaching from behind us, but I still turned my head, if slightly, to watch as she set the plates down in front of us, along with a candle in the center of the table.
Soon, we were all sitting together at the table, my brother and I eating as if we hadn't had food in our entire lives. Our mother simply watched us, smiling her usual happy smile as she ate her food, albeit at a much slower pace than us.
Soon, we were leaning back against the chair and rubbing our bellies, thoroughly satisfied. Seeing that we were done, our mother grabbed the plates and took them to the kitchen to wash them, saying, "Well, looks like my two favorite ponies finished their meals. Looks like it's time to get to work."
You can call us immature all you want. If you knew how good mother's pancakes were, you'd be eager too.
But that is not important.
As mother came back from doing the dishes, we were forced to shake off our post meal lethargy and get to work. We sat up and wasted no time in getting to our hooves. We headed outside and looked out over all the land that made up our family household.
Which was really nothing more than a single field surrounded by a fence and a couple flowerbeds. Our home was...rather modest in comparison to the rest of the town.
We were only farmers after all. And there were only three of us, since father...
Anyway, we made our way through the small field, checking everything we could before we got to work. Last season's crop was quickly gathered up, and so we had to replace the soil and the seeds for next season.
Mother offered to help, so with her on the field with us, it should be no problem.
Normally, replanting would take us until noon, but with mother helping it took considerably less time than usual. We got to work, and before we knew it, were finished by midday.
Ocean was the first to beg mother for a chance to go outside. I chuckled as I watched the scene before me. Even for all his mannerisms and clothing choices, he was still the same hyper little foal, with an insatiable desire to go out and explore the world.
And it was of no surprise to me that the first place we went as soon as mother gave permission was Blackwater Ridge's iconic swamp.
The smell of wet earth hit my nostrils as we walked, along with a slight tang in the air from what I could only assume was rain. It must have rained last night while I was asleep or something, as I don't remember having heard any rain at all.
My attention was once again dragged back to reality by Ocean, who had stopped in front of a rather large lake and was just standing there, staring into its depths. "Hey, sis! Come look at this!"
I walked up beside him and looked down into the lake. I didn't quite understand what he was so excited about. It was just a lake. There's nothing that could possibly be so interesting about a swamp full of dozens of the same lakes for miles on end.
But for some reason he seemed transfixed. He couldn't take his eyes off of it. So I peered into the lake again, trying to see what it was he thought he saw.
But no matter what I did, I just couldn't see it. The lake was just the same to me. It was just like it had always been. The water, like all the other lakes in the town's famous Blackwater Swamp, was pure, clean, fresh....and black.
Ch.2/Story 2- A Devil's Motivation
The void was cold, dark, and damp. It felt as if he had been drifting in this sea for years, if not decades. Ever since he had faced down Mundus and been taken over by his evil influence, he'd been here.
The only difference now was, he couldn't see. He supposed it was a blessing on his part. Before being defeated by his brother, he had been forced to live among demons.
The memory alone was enough to make his stomach churn.
But, there was one good thing that came out of it all. He got to watch his brother grow stronger with every battle they fought. And eventually, he was sent here, to this void. This empty land of nothingness.
He dragged himself to his feet and dusted himself off, surprised to find that his clothes were in perfect condition. He was sure his jacket had gotten ripped to shreds during his fight with Mundus. But he supposed this was the afterlife. All is made whole again in death, it would seem.
But the question was, was he really dead? Was this really the afterlife? he could feel his arms and legs, and move his body just fine, so there was that. He could also talk, though he wasn't sure how he knew he could, given he hadn't tried. He just knew his voice box worked somehow.
He tried clearing his throat. Yep. He could talk alright.
His chest rose and fell normally, signalling that his breathing was also normal, and that air was getting to his lungs. But wait. If oxygen was getting to his body just fine, then that meant his heart was beating, and if his heart was beating then...yes! He was alive!
He took a few steps forward. As he did so, his attention was drawn to the feeling of a weight at his side. Looking to his left, he noticed his scabbard was there as well, complete with his sword sticking out of it, ready and waiting to slice apart his enemies.
He pulled it out of its sheath and held it out, pointing it toward nothing in particular. He lifted it up to check if it was damaged at all. It had been broken when he fought Mundus, but it seemed to have been repaired just like his clothing. In fact, it was in such good condition, that it looked practically brand new. The blade of the sword shone in a nonexistant light.
He did a few practice swings and placed it back inside its scabbard. His father always told him never to draw his sword unless he was ready to use it.
Thinking of his father caused him to remember his mother. The same mother who was killed by demons right in front of his eyes. The same weak, human mother who died in such a pathetic way. The same mother who started this whole thing.
She was the reason he abandoned the path of humans and embraced his demon side. She was the reason he spent the better half of his life seeking power. She was the reason his brother refused to follow him in his quest for his father's legacy. She was the reason for it all. And now she was dead.
He closed his eyes, the memory of her making him feel something he never thought he'd feel for a long time. Despair. How dare she just up and die like that. How dare she leave him and his brother behind. How dare she go without saying goodbye.
But there was good news. If he was actually dead, he would see her somewhere. And so he looked around, but could not find her. He waited for as long as his patience would allow him to before sighing. He still could not see her anywhere.
This just served to drive home the thing that he had already confirmed. He was, well and truly, alive.
But that begs the question. If he was alive, then just where was he? If this wasn't the afterlife, then was he still in hell? The possibility was there, but he doubted it. Something about the place just told him he wasn't.
It wasn't that the place didn't look like hell, as it most certainly did. It was that it didn't feel like hell. The underworld may have been a place for the spirits of the damned, but he could still feel a sense of life there. He could tell that the place existed.
But this place, wherever he was, had no sense of life whatsoever. It felt empty. Barren. It was a dead zone. In every sense of the word.
However, just as he was about to give up hope of ever getting out and resign himself to spending eternity in a black void, he saw a light, just a few feet ahead of him.
Thinking it was a way out, he made his way over to it, and without a second thought, ran straight through...
...and into a forest.
He stopped and looked around, taking stock of his surroundings. He was in a clearing surrounded by nothing but trees with seemingly no exit.
Looking back showed him that he had come out of a cave somewhere deep in the forest.
Turning his attention to the task of finding a way out of there, he made his way over to a line of smaller looking trees blocking his path...
and cut them to pieces with practiced ease.
Finding a straight path ahead, he stepped over the stumps of the trees and began making his way towards what he hoped was an exit. Whatever was happening, he was going to find out where he was. And whoever stood in his way...
would be cut down without mercy.
