Warning:
Please be aware, the following chapter contains content that may be sensitive to some users, proceed at your own risk.
Amidst the rubble of a long fallen castle courtyard, a single statue covered in brown stains was cracked beyond repair. Whatever the creature that had stood there was, it had long since become unrecognizable and as such the only thing capable of retaining an eye for beyond a moment was the exceptionally large pedestal beneath it and the pulsating pressure emitted by whatever bygone magic had been used to create it. Vines and overgrowth had long since covered and destroyed the various other statues.
A single figure, stepping forth from a rippling in the side of the statue, looked up into the sky and froze. Despite the lack of clouds, evident by the brightness of a crescent moon tinged in orange, there was nothing to be seen. No stars existed in the dark expanse above its head. The figure seemed to shiver as it looked, before turning towards the outer park of the courtyard, cautiously moving through the foliage onto a cracked cobblestone street. Other plants and even trees had grown up through the rock and obscured part of the town ahead of her, yet one thing was clear.
In various places were bones of those who had long since passed, though unfamiliar to the figure for some reason. The people of this place had died far before she had gotten here and the only sense of something living was the flickering blue light of what could have been a fire. The figure, though not entirely clear in the weak light of the moon, was a woman of some sort. What little light there was reflected showed deep orange and dark red hair, nearly reminiscent of blood. She stumbled over a brick and the torchlight flickered as a single voice echoed out.
"What fool dares?" a voice called out, thick with anger. She froze for a moment, her heart beating violently in her chest. She clutched her chest, her eyes wide as she proceeded and called out.
"I'm merely passing," she answered, shivering in the cool air as the voice said nothing for a few moments. The torchlight stopped moving and she sighed in relief as it did. Whoever had spoken was clearly not in the mood for, well, anything so far as she could tell. As she took another few stops forward, the voice spoke again.
"You will show yourself or die," the rough voice answered. Panicking she moved quickly towards the torchlight, a figure wearing what was evidently quite heavy armor stood there with a large axe on it's back. The face was wrinkled and one eye was missing, an empty flesh hole stared at her. The other eye looked her up and down, the gaze odd and not one she felt she could understand.
The man scoffed, the scars across his face stretching with the movement of face muscles and his scraggly hair short and tinged with grey. "A woman are you? Good, the boys and I need one of you." He grabbed her wrist and dragged her closer to the torch on the ground where four figures sat.
Three of them gave her the same look, one of them more intense with the rest, though the obscene weight the figure had and the loose clothes gave the indication he cared little about his own appearance, he clearly cared about hers. One of the other figures was relatively muscular and gave her an odd familiar sense, as if she had met him before, while the other was eerily scrawny and disgusting, it looked as if part of it's face would fall off. While the other two were somewhat pale, that one seemed almost white.
The fourth figure was too hidden by darkness and didn't even seem to be awake, or even possibly alive. As she looked back towards the one that had dragged her with him, one of them spoke in a way that made it seem as if it spoke from it's very nose. "Ah, found a good one 'ave ya chief?"
The man beside her scoffed, "Possibly, she looks decent enough at the very least. If she knows how to cook, even better." The man shoved her arm towards the going fire where a small pot hung above the burning torch on the ground. She gulped and approached it. The man eyed her for a minute and kicked a bag towards her, "Get to cooking... what's your name?"
"Sunset," she answered quietly, the entire situation was completely unlikely any she had planned for, an overwhelming sense of danger filled her as each moment passed. The other voice, it's source quite clear to her now as the thinner of the bunch, snorted loudly.
"Sunset? The fuck kind of shit is that," the other two figure laughed heavily along with him, "What kind of retard names someone that?" She opened her mouth to respond, but the piercing glare from the men before her silenced her voice before it could arise. She dragged the bag closer to her and lifted the scalding lid from the pot before her, wincing with pain as she set it lightly on the ground. Her skin felt raw and stung violently as she began removing things from the bag. None of them were familiar to her, though shapes seemed similar to some she knew.
"Hurry up bitch, we're starving!" the largest man said, his chin wobbling as he spoke and the spittle dripped down his face. She nodded and began moving faster as the men began to converse. After a few moments they seemingly began to ignore her and she began to move away from the light, her very being screamed of danger the closer she was to each of the men and only one thought remained.
Whatever this place was, it was not worth it. It was dark and there was little familiar about it to her. Starswirl's journals had said nothing like this about the world, something was different, something was completely and utterly wrong about the place. She had barely left the area when the nasally voice spoke out, "Chief, it's running away," he pointed at her.
She ran, she immediately ditched the idea of sneaking out and made for the pedastal but the heavy creaking of armor got closer and closer as she ran, clearly faster than she was and a sharp blow knocked her to the ground, warmth spread from the back of her head and the taste of copper filled her mouth. The man above her furrowed his brows, "Now you're going to die anyway, but only after we're done," her tore the cloth from her chest and another sharp blow connected with her side.
The sound of laughter echoed in her ears, the warmth spread down onto her back and she spat out the liquid. The blood that was filling her mouth along with several teeth landed on the ground in front of her. Her face ached where it had landed on the stone and the back of her head throbbed. She didn't know when she had started, but she heard herself begin to beg, the laughter only got louder though as another blow hit her side, a sharp pain shooting through her. The pain only continued and everything began to get darker as the man above her grinned down at her viciously.
She was still conscious when they picked her up. She was still conscious when they removed her clothes. She was still conscious when they removed their clothes. She was still almost conscious, hours later when they began to leave only for their voices, in a piercing scream that went silent seconds later, echoed from around her. Blue firelight, as unfamiliar as ever, only served to illuminate the very last figure approaching her, blood dripping from the sword in it's hands.
Startling ruby red eyes, speckled with gold, met her own and a soft voice spoke softly, "I'm sorry to say it, but welcome to Cheval." Her vision faded out as the woman before her lifted her off the ground, the bodies of the three men lay upon the ground and seemed as they had been torn apart.
The image of the dead men and what they had done played in her dreams repeatedly, her own screams woke her and the woman from before was messing with a pot similar to the one from before. Her own body felt sore and the blood from her wounds was crusty and uncomfortable. She shivered violently, her breathing uncontrolled as the woman approached with a small cup of some kind.
Unable to control herself, the idea of what this woman might do permeating her mind, she flinched back only to scream as pain shot through her head and left side. "Be careful I wasn't able to tend to you all that well, you need to drink this and once you're feeling well enough, you're going back through that statue."
She choked down the bitter liquid, the heat felt relieving to her throat. After breathing for a moment, the pain settled down and she looked at the woman, "Back? I can't..." she choked, her voice rasping and nearly failing her. The woman watched in silence, feeding her another small cup full of the liquid.
"Where it was that you came from, wherever that was," the woman said as she turned back to the fire, "is far better than here. Cheval, as you may now know, is land where anything and everything goes, it's a land where no rules exist except for one. The strong control the weak." She stirred the liquid in the pot with a stick and shook her head as she filled the cup once more.
"But I-" a cough racked Sunset's body, warm liquid quickly filled her mouth along with a strong copper taste. She spat, breathing heavily as yet another bout of pain calmed and the woman made her drink the liquid again. Something about the look on the woman's face said she was disappointed, or possibly even jealous.
"Unlike you," the woman helped her to drink the third dose, "I have lived in the place for my entire life. I know for certain that you are not from Cheval, as well as that, the longer you are here, the more likely it is that you will die." Sunset stared into the ruby eyes as the woman frowned at her. Silence permeated the air for several moments afterwards as the woman turned around and made to the bag a short distance from the fire.
She removed from the bag a roll of cloth and gently lifted Sunset's head from the ground and began unravelling the crusted bandage that had not been there before she had passed out. Parts of the bandage itself were still wet and it was evident she hadn't been out all that long. After a few long moments, the woman laid her back down and Sunset stared at her for a moment. "Cheval?"
The woman nodded as she tossed the bandage into the glowing blue fire, "This land is Cheval, or as it's sometimes called, the land of sin. This is what was on the other side of that which you entered."
"How-" she coughed again.
The woman went silent and didn't move for a minute, before sighing heavily, "I know very little, but long ago I met an elderly man, he called himself Starswirl, and he claimed to be the creator of our world. He told me there was a world beyond the statue. Of course, the people have a different story about how the world was made, but I had enough reason to believe him, as much as I hate him for it."
Sunset flinched, gasping behind the pain, "He made the world? His journals said nothing like what you're saying."
"Thousands of lifetimes have passed since that time," the woman answered, "time changes things."
Sunset went silent, "I'll go back."
"Cheval is a shitshow kid, you could've had far worse happen," the woman helped her up to her feet and they began walking towards the pedestal. The two moved along in silence and entered the courtyard before Sunset spoke.
"Who are you anyway?" she asked.
"Eris," the woman answered, "And may you hope we never meet again." The woman shoved her through the pedestal and another ripple shimmered through the stone before it stopped moving, looking as solid as it always did.
In the land of Equestria, where phoenixes cry, wendigos fall, and hope changes the world itself, there is a looming castle in the depths of an unconquered land, where only chaos rules. The ruins of this castle hide a great secret, for in the depths of this once resplendent place lies a hideous secret hidden away in a time now long forgotten. A single mirror stood in the midst of large room, one for which there was no clear entrance. This place, unlike the lands which surround it, held not merely the swirling of uncontrolled magic, but instead something far darker.
The mirror glistened in unseen light, it's surface pristine and as clean as the day on which it had been created. The air had long since grow stale, the musty scent of dust and dirt permeating it. The mirror, once dormant and silent, shimmered violently and a single figure crashed onto the dirt. It was panting, the musty air causing it to cough as it tried to catch its breath. Shuddering and wincing as it took to it's hooves, it turned to look at the mirror behind it.
"What?" the figure rasped out, "This isn't the castle... Where..."
The mirror shimmered for a moment, the light in the room dimming heavily for a moment before it returned. Ancient spells, she knew as much from clear age of the items around her. After a few moments of silence, she placed her hoof on the cold glass, only to shiver as her hoof passed into it and a bone chilling cold gripped her forehoof. She flinched backwards, "I can't... What if..." The small pony stared at the mirror in silence, uncertain of what she should do as her own reflection, though it felt unfamiliar, stared back.
She looked around the room, attempting to avoid her own gaze. The still air stirred as she began to walk around the room, gazing at the ancient tomes and scrolls piled high upon various bookshelves and tables across the room. There were none with words on their covers, except for one. She lifted it gently, the old paper coarse and rough in her hooves, the yellowed age of the pages evident in the soft torchlight.
In elegant script, a vibrant gold upon the deep brown of the tome's cover, was a single word. Cheval. She stared at it for a few moments, the deep silence stifling her own thoughts. She opened the cover, her heartbeat loud in her ears, and began to read. As each page flipped, she looked up to the mirror at the center of the room and felt as though it was staring back. As she finished, she gave an audible gulp and looked around the room.
The book had said that the world beyond the mirror was odd and strange, that he had once banished three sisters there. Everything the book itself said was wrong, it was nothing like the world in the mirror. Starswirl had described the world of the mirror as one much like theirs but without magic, yet no normal flames burned blue. Sunset gave one last look at the mirror as her horn glowed with golden light and she disappeared from the room.
The flash of light shone back off the mirror's surface and the stone beneath it seemed to groan as the mirror's surface darkened. A mass of shadow poured onto the ground and the roar of a large beast shook the room before the shadows vanished completely leaving a glowing wisp of deep purple fire that soon vanished completely.
Just as the young unicorn was departing from the ancient study, a young man in Cheval entered a large castle that seemed just as ancient. The stone creatures which guarded the massive doors glared down as he passed into the hall and stood before an elderly man and two women. Of the three sets of eyes, the elderly man's were the strangest and most terrifying, as if his gaze seeped into your soul and declared your death. Amber eyes met murky brown and the man scoffed.
"Well, Master Stire," the old man's voice was thick and rough, "I see you remain as stubborn as ever. Here I believed your studies at that Academy would make you understand power." The elderly man chuckled as Stire remained silently staring at him for a moment.
"I've always understood power," Stire answered, the monotone caused the two women to glare at him viciously. Heavy silence filled the room as the two men stared one another down for several moments, the two women merely stood at the man's side. After awhile, the elderly man sighed heavily. He stood and started to walk out of the room, waving his hand dismissively.
"The mage tower is yours to use," he said as the set of large wooden doors behind the throne opened, only to slam shut behind his back. Stire watched the doors for several moments before turning on his heel and departing from the hall in a similar fashion, though the doors opened with a simple wave of his hand, violet flames caressing the sides. As his steps moved from the doors, the violet flames disappeared leaving black scorches on the doors. The man ignored this and entered the courtyard where the tall tower, separate from the rest of the castle, stood.
Ancient stone was marred by thick black vines, thorns and massive leaves followed them up the walls. The massive tower held no windows, and the doors were made of rusted iron, squeaking loudly as the violet flames forced them open. The doors halted with a thud and the leaves shook as stale air rushed forth. Without a sound, the man know as Brel Stire, moved into the ancient tower and stared at the ruined tools and torn scrolls scattered across the first floor.
As the air rushed in from outside, barely fresher than that which had left, several scrolls disintegrated. Others fell apart, and a cloud of dust wafted throughout the room. Once more, Brel ignored such things and took to the stairs, the soft thud of his shoes causing small whirlwinds of dust to trail down the old staircase. With a snap of his fingers, the torches sprung to life, dim blue light spiraled upwards through the tower. Spiders and rats fled to the corners and into the walls as he took a last step into the room at the top of the tower. A single balcony looked out over the city.
Screaming and yelling echoed quietly from the streets far below as the large chandelier which hung from the ceiling flickered to life as the flames lit the room. Thick spiderwebs burned, causing the light to flair up and blue light to shine down on the city below where a young man sat in one of the many alleys. His clothes were tattered and old, grime had covered his face for time an age as his green eyes gazed upon the tall stonework from whence that light came. As the light began to fade, he walked out of the alleyway, bumping into some street urchins who laughed and ran off.
On either side of the street dark windows kept light from leaving the shops and houses and the street lanterns barely lit the streets. One could see, but not far and so the children quickly vanished from sight as people along the streets moved out of his way. The cracked roads only served to darken the already faint lights. Several doors along the street were open, dim light lighting the sides of the street as carriages rolled past. The sound of wood on rock masked the soft sounds of life coming from the buildings and the sound of footsteps. The city, in all the darkness and ruins it seemed to be in, was alive with the hustle and bustle of people.
As the young man slipped through groups of civilians and through the various alleyways, it became clear that such activity masked the surface of a silent and cold night. Some houses were broken and collapsed, others had been burned by unseen fires, and some streets were empty and devoid of life. In those few places, the people were not as open or wild, and had covered themselves in black. Several women could be seen, barely clothed and taking money as they began to bend to their knees. Several were already down.
Some of the women wore thick metal collars as did various of the cloaked figures, each following another closely. These people, when their eyes reflected the torchlights, were expressionless. Their faces were coated with grime and dried blood caked the clothes of many of the women. "Bitch!" a man in one of the dark alleyways cried out, his fist collided with the woman's head and sent her sprawling. In another alleyway, a lone child laid upon the ground as kick after kick connected with his side.
The young man moved on, his eyes blank and his expression unchanging. If you were to ask him why he ignored such things, the answer was terrible, dark, and completely hopeless. Were you to ask anyone else, the answer would remain unchanged. Were you to ask the broken child, gasping for air as the kicks stopped, his answer would be the same. Ask the woman, dazed and confused on the ground and she would only grow more confused. This was just simply the way things were and had always been here in Alcazar.
Soon the streets met a towering wall and beyond it were poorly built shacks and fields of tents. A cacophony of coughing, hacking, and wheezing were the only sounds that came forth from all around and the man sped up. Such a dire place was were the city threw the ill and worthless, the people who would survive little beyond the night. The walls did not serve for a defensive purpose or to keep anything out, they existed for a single reason. The dividing line for the people within, the definition of us and them. The scent of rotting food, old blood, and waste swirled in the air forcing the young man to cover his face as he stepped out onto the wide dirt road that led off into the horizon.
As his feet crunched on the dirt, the sounds and smell of the slums began to fade and he finally stood before the forest. The black trees served to only make the place darker and were one not familiar with it, they would remain lost until they died. At the depths of the woods where the woman the people called the Witch lived were the ruins of some past civilization. As he stepped out from the cover of the trees, he noticed a single blue light glowing in the distance and made towards it.
Upon the ground where the fire flickered were three bodies, the blood still fresh, as though it had just been spilt. None of the bodies held anything but a weapon in their hand and he looked towards the largest ruins. Ignoring the dead, he slipped out of the cover of light and back into the darkness. "Lucen, what are you doing here?" a woman's voice called out and the man let out a loud sigh.
"Thank the light," he replied, "Eris, Stire returned to that damned tower of his."
The woman's voice went silent and he could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, "Come on." Immediately, in the midst of the darkness a yellow light sputtered to existence in a spray of sparks. Ruby eyes glowed as the ruined walls of a courtyard began to loom overhead. "You saw him?" the woman asked as they stepped past the walls and light spread out before him.
"No," Lucen answered, "but the mage tower lit up."
The woman frowned and her eyes fell upon the pedestal amidst the ruined statues. Neither of the two spoke before she finally turned towards a wooden door. She remained silent as she guided him through the stones and through the doorway, the door shutting with an audible thump. "You remember what I said, right?"
"I do," he answered in a resolute voice.
