1: Awakening
The day the Crystal Empire marched on the city of Canterlot, after Twilight and her friends had failed to stop the rise of Sombra - though the mare couldn't blame them, she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried -
(They were young, so young. Little fillies, a child dragon. They should not have been sent to do a Princess's job.)
- was the day that the sky blazed with the Sun's wrathful glare, staring down with a baleful eye, as Princess Celestia engulfed herself in its heat and tore a chasm between the two clashing armies. Each beat of her great, fiery wings turned the combatants caught in their wake to ash, regardless of which side they fought for.
(She'd been too slow. Too slow, and the flames had licked at her fur with cat tongues and broiled her flesh. She remembered screaming, screaming for her sister, screaming for her friend, engulfed in flames before throwing herself into the nearest patch of bloodied, hoof-churned mud, rolling until they ate at her no more.)
The Blaze of Glory, they called it - the thing that saved the lands to the south at such great cost.
The thing that had taken so many young lives, taken her sister from her, in a last-ditch effort to save so many more.
She still couldn’t see anything glorious about it.
The mare had been...pretty, once. She supposed she would have taken pride in her appearance, perhaps, if she’d been given more time. Now, standing in the cave on three hooves -
(She’d lost one leg to Sombra’s Empire, along with the use of the eye on the same side. She’d taken much, much more from him. She thinks her sister would have been proud, or perhaps appalled.)
-Runic words of protection, of power, of anger and grief carved into her scorched flesh by her own doing-
(She still remembered the pain of her magic cutting into the scar tissue, but the burns, the aching loss, had hurt so much more-)
She stood, and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a plume of steam.
The mare didn’t feel the cold, not now - she couldn’t afford to.
Not when she was so close.
In some places in Equestria, the veil between worlds was thin. The mare was no stranger to the fact that there existed other universes to her own. Fate could converge, leaving marks of another place, another time, another world in their wake.
Before her was the stone statue of a unicorn stallion with a close-cropped mane and tail, all four hooves planted as if to stand against a tide, head held high, a skeletal helm fallen to the ground before him. A stone, carved in Old Equish, lay in front of the monument - reminiscent of a gravestone, marking some great hero.
Or villain.
“We are, all of us, slaves to our fate.”
She couldn’t help but snort derisively at that. Fate had deemed that her world would defeat the Crystal Empire.
If there was one thing the mare had learned, it was that Fate was a flighty bitch that could be tempted by a more exciting story.
“I hope this is exciting enough for you,” she muttered under her breath.
(She was talking to herself, to the statue, to Fate - when you spent so many years alone, chasing wisps of hope, you filled the silence with words yourself - or you let it consume you.)
Her horn sparked and crackled, darkness wrapping around it, filled with a million tiny stars. The runes blazed to light, one by one, filling the cave with celestial light.
The former princess of the Moon, Lunaria Polaris, last of the free Alicorn princesses, called to a paragon of Chaos to rise from his slumber, to breathe and walk this earth once more. Her magic wrapped around the statue, fairy lights in an unending darkness, calling to the faint flicker of light she could almost taste, bidding it to grow into the inferno it had once been -
(Like the inferno that her sister had turned into -)
- And to fight, to command, to live, as he had so long ago, in a different world, in a different time.
And this time, Fate will not collar you, Archaon the Everchosen - no, Diederick Kastner. You will find no excuses with me.
There was no great flash of light, no rumbling of the earth, no sign whatsoever that her spell had any effect on the statue before her. Luna struggled to maintain the magic - once an easy feat, but now, her runes sparked and flickered, sending little shocks of pain through her system.
You’ve felt worse. Without them, you couldn’t even cast this spell.
As the moment stretched, as the strain started edging into the unbearable side of pain, a small crack appeared in the stone. Time seemed to stop - her heartbeat certainly felt like it did - as the crack spread and widened, stone groaning and crumbling as the spell took hold. As it flaked from the massive figure, deep black armor was revealed, gleaming dully in the light of her magic.
Caramel fur rippled briefly as it settled, the white mane on his head joining it as he felt the air for the first time in a millennia. Tired eyes slid open, examining his new form with an almost detached interest. Archaon looked at Luna, and she felt as if she were being measured against some unknown standard.
The mare knew she must look a state, as she let her magic fade. Her fur was patchy and scorched, the runes carved into the exposed flesh flickering and going dim, until the only source of light was the orbs she used to guide her way. On her right side, she was missing a good half of her foreleg; her eye on the same side useless, milky white - the only time she could see with it was when she flooded it with her magic, and then she’d be plagued by a migraine when she inevitably let the magic fade.
He blinked slowly, then spoke in a feather-soft, but deep voice.
“...I did not expect to ever wake up. Are you the one responsible?”
Silence, as Luna looked him over - just as he had her. Granted, he didn’t have to turn his head to keep her in his full view.
"Yes." She finally answered. "I called you back to life, Diederick Kastner. I stoked the fire of your weakened soul."
The stallion let out a soft sigh.
“That man died long ago, alicorn. How did you learn that name?” Embers rose from the ground beneath his hooves as he took a hesitant step towards her. His legs almost buckled underneath him for a brief moment, before he quickly regained his balance.
“I doubt there are many who would willingly spread the name of the one who attempted - almost succeeded - in destroying the world, let alone that of his birth. How odd, then, that you seem to know.”
He gazed at her a few moments, then poked at the helmet beneath him with a hoof, a small frown crossing his face.
Luna was quiet, watching him contemplatively, before she settled back on her haunches, tail flicking around her rear hooves much like a cat’s. Balancing carefully, she rubbed a hoof along her muzzle, a quiet sigh escaping her mouth.
She was so tired.
"You dreamt, in your stone cairn. Your heart still, your lungs empty, but you still dreamed." She watched him now, night-sky eye locked on his face, studying him as if he were a book she could read and decipher.
"You dreamed of your crusade. You dreamed of your massacre. You dreamed of fighting and bloodshed. You dreamed of your defeat, snatched from the jaws of victory."
She let those words hang there for a long moment, the echoes of what she had once been putting steel in her voice.
Then, unexpectedly, it softened.
"And you dreamed of guilt. Hopeless rage. Deep sorrow and loss. Bitterness. A sense that your hooves had been set upon a path you were not allowed to choose. A man named Diederick Kastner, a faithful servant to a silent god."
She looked down at her hoof, then back up at him.
"Tis a risk, releasing you, aye. I'm quite curious to see what you'll do now."
A humorless chuckle escaped him, his eyes almost dead.
“What...I will do?”
“I have never had a choice. Diederick was a pawn of the false god, Sigmar. Abandoned when he needed his god most, when all he wanted was to be told Fate wasn’t set in stone, and receiving only silence.”
He took another step forwards, kicking the helmet aside with contempt on his face.
“Archaon was a pawn of the Four. They whispered lies to him, told him they were setting him free while they wrapped him in chains so tight he didn’t know they were there, until he grew to love them. His one and only act of defiance, meaningless.”
He chuckled again, a glint of madness in his eyes.
“Before you stands a husk, bereft of any purpose. Will he be your pawn?”
Luna regarded him with a steady gaze as he spoke, waiting for him to finish, not moving a muscle as he stepped closer.
"You say you are a husk, and yet I fueled your soul. I brought your shriveled, blackened heart to life once more."
Here, she stood, magic coalescing into a limb to balance her out. Her words would need to hit their mark and stick, and she couldn’t do that if she was wobbling like a newborn.
“I must say, I never thought your slumber would leave you so very, very stupid.”
Her wings shot open; the left, where her burn scars were most prominent, was a skeletal facsimile, ashes still drifting between what remained of her feathers.
The right was the same as it had always been, dark blue guide feathers glinting in the light of her magicked leg.
"Look at me." Her voice echoed with power. "Look at me, Everchosen! Look at me, with your dimming star of a soul, and know this!
“Fate is a fickle thing. It said my kingdom - that my sister was to survive and thrive, and yet she wrapped herself in the rays of the sun and burned a chasm between the North and the South at the cost of hundreds, thousands of lives, not to mention herself!
“Fate dictated me to guide dreams and paint the sky with stars, and yet now I am crippled and marked and alone, chasing whispers in the hopes that I might find something other than ash!
“Our heroes, enslaved! Our countries, at war! Our people, living in fear, not knowing when Sombra’s Empire will darken the horizon once more!”
She stepped closer, her presence alone filling the cave, oppressive and dark, an abyss glinting with a million tiny lights. She knew her pupil was narrowing, becoming slit, but she didn’t care.
"You did not get the answer you desired from your God, and thus walked into your fate. If you are a husk, part of the reason falls upon your own shoulders - instead of fighting, you gave up."
Her wings snapped shut, and suddenly, her royal presence was gone - in its place, a tired, broken mare, who stared at him with an eye as bright as the moon.
"I will not make you my pawn. You are free, now, to do as you wish. I can only wonder, though - will you fall into old patterns, and become a slave, a trained dog, to the whims of so-called Fate once more?"
She stepped closer, invading his space, nearly muzzle-to-muzzle with him.
"...Or will you fight? Will you try to make something better of yourself?"
A heartbeat.
Two.
More silence.
Luna stepped back. Once, twice.
Then, she turned, and began to walk away, pausing at the entrance of the cave to look back.
“The choice is yours, Archaon. Make it well - I will not force you to walk any path you do not wish to follow. Burn this world, aid me in saving it, or simply exist.
“I do not have it within me to persuade a fool from a path he is determined to walk. Regardless of what you do, I will keep to my road, and keep trying to save my kingdom.”
A humorless chuckle escaped her.
“It’s only cost me an eye and a leg so far. I have much more to give.”
After a moment, she heard him follow her, slowly - his steps unsteady, as if still getting used to walking on all fours. She heard a clunk, then a skittering; he’d likely kicked his helm even further away.
When they broke into the clean air of the Everfree Forest, Luna took a deep breath in appreciation, allowing the magic that served as a leg to disperse. Maintaining it cost her more energy than she was willing to spare at the moment.
“Why me?”
The question caused her to turn, an eyebrow quirked as she eyed him.
“What salvation could I possibly offer?” There was no heat to his words, simply confusion. “You say you have seen my dreams. You know, then, the monster that stands before you. And still you seek my aid. Why?”
“Join me at my camp, and I’ll tell you a story. It might answer your question. Either way, I hold to what I said - your destiny is your own.”
With those - Rarity would have called them maddeningly cryptic - words, she walked towards the banked fire and pile of soft grasses and moss she called a camp and settled down, folding her legs under her with a sigh.
A spark of magic had the fire roaring to life again, chasing off the chill of the quickly approaching night. Luna watched the moon rise, simultaneously happy and sad that the duty did not fall to her anymore.
Silence, save for the crackling of the fire, until Luna finally began to speak, her voice soft and lilting in the way of somepony that had told a story again and again.
“Once, long ago - a century, perhaps more - there was a young mare and her sister, who ruled over the land of Equestria together.”
The mare had known the name of the man he had been before.
Once, that would have sent him into a rage; now, it just reminded him of the path he had been forced to walk.
Now, though, he faced another problem. Archaon stood nervously in front of the fire, a frown marring his muzzle as he tried to puzzle out how to sit down.
After a few moments, he huffed in annoyance and simply let his legs fall out from under him, armor clanging to the ground and sending up a puff of dust. He glanced at Luna as if daring her to say something about it.
She either didn’t notice or had the good grace not to say anything. Silence reigned for a long moment; the mysterious mare appeared to be mulling over something, idly rolling a nearby rock back and forth, back and forth.
Just as he was getting impatient, her horn began to flicker with light, and before her shimmered into view two figures - one yellow, the other blue.
He couldn’t help but notice one of her runes flickering to life aside it, glowing dully on her shoulder.
“Once, long ago - a century, perhaps more - there was a young mare and her sister, who ruled over the land of Equestria together,” she repeated, softly.
“Their rule was peaceful; there were no threats that they could not face, no obstacle they couldn’t overcome, as long as they stood strong, side by side. The eldest was in charge of moving the sun through the sky, and the younger, the moon.”
The roaring fire and her soft voice brought back memories of his time in Norsca, before undergoing the challenges of the Gods. Every night, the warriors had gathered around roaring fires, holding roasts of their kills and stolen mead, sharing stories of glories past.
“As the years wore on, the younger found herself coveting the honor bestowed upon the elder. Their subjects celebrated the rising of the sun, but slept with its setting, leaving her work unseen. Why should her beautiful nights be neglected? She put so much thoughtinto them, placing each star in the sky with careful consideration, arranging them so that their connections would make pictures - constellations that meant something to her and should have meant something to everyone else. Unfortunately, her moon never shone as bright as her sister’s sun.”
The yellow figure grew taller, casting a shadow over the first, its radiance eclipsing the smaller figure. The mare’s mouth curled into a small, bitter smile as the blue illusion stomped a hoof and stormed off, clearly throwing a tantrum.
“The eldest never understood. She thought that her sister was happy - never thought that the shadow she cast would be so large as to throw the youngest into darkness.”
As the yellow figure grew taller - almost reaching the mare’s neck in height, now - the blue shrunk, curling in on itself and covering its face with its forelegs.
Suddenly, it stood.
“Finally, the youngest had had enough. One day, she refused to remove the moon from the sky, eclipsing the sun that everyone loved so much, casting the land of Equestria into darkness. They argued for days, the youngest stubbornly refusing to concede. This defiance had an effect on her - it warped her, changed her.”
The two illusions faced each other, clearly arguing. The yellow was seemingly calm, as the blue raged, stomping about, gesturing wildly, as if it was yelling. As it continued its violent actions, the shadow the eldest cast began to creep up the younger’s legs, darkening the blue until it was a lightless void.
“By the time the eldest realized what was happening, it was too late. Her younger sister had become a monster.”
Abruptly, the formerly-blue illusion stopped moving, and collapsed; the yellow rushed to its side, trying to shake it, as if afraid it had fainted -
Only to shrink back in simulated horror as the black light rippled, warping, changing.
The thing that slowly rose to its hooves bore only slight resemblance to what it had been before; black, batlike wings erupted from its back to claw at the ground, its face splitting open to reveal needle-sharp teeth, points of light flickering to life all over its body. The hooves split, becoming talons; the mane and tail twisted and writhed, as if they had a mind of their own.
Without mercy, the creature lunged, tearing into the yellow figure with tooth and claw and wing.
“The eldest fled from the thing her sister had become. Fled to the castle they kept, in the Everfree Forest. The creature raged, tearing apart any that got in its way.”
The yellow figure broke away with a kick, and ‘ran’, the monster giving chase. Several equestrian figures stood in the way of the black horror; it tore through them, the illusions opening their mouths in screams of pain before dispersing.
“At the Castle of the Two Sisters, several powerful treasures were kept safe, from the grasping claws of those that would see them put to foul uses.”
Several lights flickered to life; red, orange, green, blue, pink, and purple. They surrounded the yellow figure as it turned, circling it like a halo.
“The eldest made one last plea, but her younger sister was gone, consumed by hatred and jealousy. And thus, she was forced to turn the treasures on her own flesh and blood.”
The points of light shot beams that connected in a conal shape in front of the yellow illusion; as the creature lunged, the united light of the represented treasures lanced to meet it.
The creature dropped from its lunge, writhing and twisting in agony. Abruptly, it burst into a thousand points of darkness, that rose and swirled around the mare, until they hovered above her, forming the shape of a unicorn’s head on a moon that flickered into existence just in time.
“This had severe consequences - the treasures were not meant to be used in such a way. The backlash caused them to shatter, releasing their power into the world.”
The points of light abruptly broke apart, pieces flying every which way, and the light of the mare’s magic finally flickered out, the illusions vanishing with it.
“The treasures would later be found in equine form - six friends would come to wield their power to save Equestria several times. But that, I think, is a story for another time.”
The mare was quiet for a moment, staring into the flames contemplatively, before she looked up at Archaon again.
"It was only through the intervention of six brave mares that the youngest - that I was set free from the hatred that had consumed me. I would have shrouded this land in darkness, driven all to starvation, sickness, and madness, if I had succeeded. If I could be offered a second chance, well, why shouldn't I give the same to you?"
The mare had a way with words, of telling a story that completely made him forget his surroundings; Archaon only came back to himself with her question, and found he couldn’t answer her.
He hummed, frowning as he digested her story, looking down at the black armor on his hooves.
After what seemed an eternity, he spoke.
“These six who saved you. Are they the heroes enslaved?” He looked back up at her.
"I know of at least four that are. Rainbow Dash might as well be, as she is completely loyal to a force that I do not care to tangle with. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie serve Sombra through no choice of their own."
Her mouth twisted slightly; with what, he couldn’t quite tell.
"I did manage to free one - Applejack. It was at great cost to myself, and I fear she likely wants nothing to do with me. We may not have a choice, however. The Elements of Harmony - that is, the heroes - are intrinsically linked. The presence of Applejack might be the only thing that can shake the others free."
“I see.” He hummed, tapping his hoof against the dirt.
“I assume you have a plan beyond waking me and hoping I follow, yes? Tell me of it. I may not know this world, but I at least know tactics.”
"We need three things; money, support, and power." She replied, almost immediately. "We can buy the second and the third, but the first poses an issue. Fortunately, there's always someone looking for a helping hoof."
She traced a line in the dirt, then added, "if we can, we should track down Applejack. I'm not sure where she went, but she's the kind of mare that can move mountains. She can also tell us if we're being cheated or lied to - she has the sense for that sort of thing."
"There is also another matter we must see to. Survival depends on us traveling quietly, and not drawing attention. Archaon isn't exactly...a name you'd hear around here, nor is Diederick. If you have no objections, I could think of a few for you to choose from, unless you have one in mind. For example, take my name - Luna. Although it is not my full name, it will pass muster with most, as they believe that the Princess is dead and I am named in her honor."
The way she said this - so matter-of-factly - gave him pause before he spoke.
“Is that not something that can wait until later? From the way you have described things, we will be alone in our journey for some time. Besides, if all else fails, I suppose you could introduce me as a bodyguard or mercenary from some distant land.” He gave a small smile, eyes glimmering with a spark of humor. “It would even be true, in a sense, would it not?”
Luna blinked at him for a moment, then covered her mouth with a hoof, the corner of her eyes crinkling with what he eventually recognized as mirth.
"Oh. Oh, yes, that is true. If it comes to it, we can even say you do not speak the local language very well. Others tend to underestimate you when they think you can't understand them."
She looked up at the sky; the moon had climbed steadily onwards as they had spoken.
"I will set an alarm spell, I think, and then we can rest. We have an early morning tomorrow, if I am to teach you how to act like a proper pony." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I did notice you having difficulty with laying down - for future reference, you allow your forelegs to fold first."
Of course she had noticed. It would have been impossible not to.
She got to her hooves with a bit of struggle before pacing about ten feet away and pointing her horn at the ground.
Magic flared to life in a circle around them, before quickly settling down once more.
"That should hide us from prying eyes. And no, it will not keep you in place should you decide to leave."
Without much delay, Luna settled back into her nest of moss and grass, tucked her head under her un-singed wing, and promptly dropped off to sleep, if the soft snores were anything to go by.
He stared at her, completely nonplussed.
He had established he was a monster, had he not? That he would’ve slit her throat as soon as look at her?
And yet, here she was, placing herself in a vulnerable position, sleeping with her throat bare and within strangling distance.
This world - this mare - were entirely alien to the Everchosen. How could she trust so openly?
Or -
Or was it not trust? Was it a calculated risk?
Ah, that had to be it. No doubt the mare had plenty of protections, that would smite him should he attempt harm to her.
Now that he could stop worrying about her, he could turn his attention to his new form.
He was entirely equine in shape; his bulk reminded him of the draft horses he'd seen pulling plows, before.
His skin had never seemed to fit him, when he had stood on two legs. The Everchosen had always attributed it to being a child of rape. It was odd, then, that he felt much less itchy in this skin, covered as it was in fur.
He was going to chase after that thought, puzzle it out and worry at it like a dog with a bone, but the years of captivity followed by the sudden awakening found his eyelids growing heavy.
Within moments, Archaon the Everchosen found his head dropping to the forest floor. Soon, he was fast asleep, and for once, his dreams were of gentle nothing.
