Oh Dearest Father of Mine...

Chapters

Chapter I - Our New Home...
Chapter III - To Feed the Fillies
Chapter IV - To Break Free
Chapter V - The Endless Desert I
Chapter VI - Laying the Foundation
Chapter VII - To See Beyond
Chapter VIII - The Endless Desert II
Chapter IX - Traitors' Caravan
Chapter X - To Wisp Somepony Away Part I
Chapter XI - To Wisp Somepony Away Part II
Chapter XII - Sacred and Profane Part I
Chapter XIII - Sacred and Profane Part II
Chapter II - A Gift from a Friend
Chapter XIV - Sacred and Profane Part III

Chapter I - Our New Home...

Whoever said that the present is always a gift clearly hasn’t lived on Equus long enough. The present is merely the present, nothing more, nothing less. But maybe… there was an exception to this saying… whoever seeks it just has to find it.

A lone Human, an individual that was unique in its own way, trekked through a dense forest he found himself swallowed in. Rays of sunshine shining through gaps of the canopy.

This particular Human had youthful fair skin, jet black hair into a military undercut and a pair of purple eyes that made shone so brightly, they made the brightest gemstones look dull by comparison. This one was a well-built male, built enough to lift heavy objects but not so big it would be impossible to maneuver.

He sported a plain black shirt, black cargo pants, and a pair of durable black boots. There was a large black backpack strapped to his back that carried all his necessary supplies, while on his front was a baby carrier that could fit two babies or in this case two totally normal foals, and that’s what it held… foals… just not regular ones.

On his left side, pressing up against his left pec was a little Alicorn filly with a pure white coat and a bright pink mane and tail, while on his right pec was another Alicorn filly with a dark blue coat and an azure mane and tail. Their little tails hung out from a hole in the sling, while their little legs stayed inside, pressing up against their own chests.

Both their eyes were closed and they were sound asleep. At least he had that going for him…

The man's hands were occupied, in his right, he held onto the right straps of his bag and the foal sling that went over both shoulders. He would’ve held onto both straps for balance but in his left, he held onto a dark staff with a golden shape of a phoenix on top while chained to it was a brown book that had aged, yellow pages that contained a language that has been lost to the sands of time.

The man trekked deeper into the forest, hoping to have reached the end already. He calmly listened to the sounds of nature that he missed, birds chirping, little critters running about and the sound of the gentle breeze that blowing through the trees, gently shaking the branches and naturally letting the leaves drop.

The man looked down at the two fillies he carried, the white one yawned while the other was drooling on his shirt, but nopony would’ve felt that, all he felt was his sweat and thus he assumed it so.

Wonder if they feel like a joey in a kangaroo’s pouch…

The man looked up again, watching and taking each step with absolute care. The last thing he wanted was to fall forward and squash the beautiful fillies he carried.

But as he walked further and further along the endless dirt path. Something apart from nature made a sound, it made the man freeze before slowly looking down.

The white one was yawning, stretching out her little hooves in the process. After yawning, she opened her eyes, revealing a pair of magenta orbs.

The man and the white filly locked on to each other’s eyes. The filly tilted her head to the side slightly, staring into the man's shining orbs.

“Hey you, you’re finally awake.” The man spoke softly to not wake her sister, “Wanna know where we are?” Receiving no proper answer but a curious babble, he took it as a yes.

“Well Celly, we crossed the border about a kilometre or two back. By some miracle we didn’t run into an Imperial ambush.”

Celly was trying to jump up and down in her sling, babbling all the way, “What? I’m the miracle?” The man scoffed, “Naw, it’s not me, but you two little ankle biters.” Smiled the man, almost revealing his canines.

Celly babbled again, but it sounded like a question, “Where are we going?” Receiving no answer he took it as another yes, “Well my sweet Celly, we’re going to a Sanctuary that should be through this forest.”

Babbling again, Celly tried to point behind her, “How do I know where I’m going? Well, a close friend of mine built it and she said we could use it.”

Celly babbled again, letting out an exhausted yawn, “Tired? Yeah, you should sleep while I do all the heavy lifting. But silence would be nice, you don’t want to wake up Luna now do you?” The man pointed out, using his eyes to gesture to the sleeping figure beside her.

Celly looked at the blue figure beside her before leaning in and snuggling next to her, nuzzling Luna before succumbing to sleep.

“That’s fine, I’ll just keep myself company then,” Mumbled the man, looking at the endless path ahead.

“It’s not like I’m walking a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known,”

Celly let out an annoyed babble.

“Right, right. I’ll be quiet.”

Time passed as the man trekked further through the forest, sweat was pouring from his head, his throat was parched and his muscles were aching.

He knew he was reaching his limit but he still needed a water supply.

So he pushed on, walking along the path but after a while he stopped and listened, for he heard something that would help him in this journey.

The man closed his eyes, doing his best to mute out the sounds that he wasn’t searching for.

Was that the sound of a river that he heard? He listened some more, listening intensely for sounds of gentle water flowing.

After confirming that it was, the man headed off the dirt path. Heading into the grasps of plants and low branches, taking care not let any make contact with the fillies in his sling.

The man took care when heading off the path, every careful step that he took before was nothing compared to what he did now, each step was more calculating, he had to determine if his next step would make him slip and drop his precious cargo, but he got through without a scratch, excluding all the dirt and mud on his boots and pants.

After getting through, he looked back at the back he took and came to the conclusion that heading off the path to find a river was not worth it. But he’s here now, so he might as well make the most of it.

He planted the staff into the dirt before taking off his bag, leaving only the sling on. Bending down, he reached for a canteen on the side pocket and shook it a bit. It was light, but it sounds indicated that there was a little water left.

The man opened the cap and put it in his pocket before drinking whatever water was left, satisfying his parched throat.

Once it was empty, he walked over to the river and carefully knelt down. With his left hand, he placed the canteen under water, while placing his right behind fillies and bringing them closer to his chest.

He watched the river gently flow to the right, heading down a path that he wasn’t in a rush to explore. The bubbling of the water was the only disturbance in the river of tranquility.

When the bubbling stopped, the man stood up and moved back to his bag, taking a seat and unzipping it, he pulled out a clear, squeezable plastic container that held a light blue substance that shimmered in front of his eyes.

Taking off the plastic cap with a single flick of a thumb, he then positioned the container over the canteen, and with a little squeeze, several drops of the light blue substance fell into the canteen.

The mixed substances reacted with one another, emitting a light blue glow before dying down. Satisfied that the process was over, the man placed the cap back on the container, sealing it and eliminating the chances of it spilling. While he took a couple of swigs from his canteen.

Savouring the taste of the water and letting out a satisfied ‘Ahhh’ he put the cap back on before returning the canteen to its respective place on the side of the bag.

Looking towards the sky, he saw that he still had a long time till sunset. So he took this time to rest his muscles and recover his stamina. But sitting there and doing nothing would bore him to death, thus he pulled out a midnight blue circular amulet from his bag. The white moon was in its crescent form while the background was pitch black as the night sky.

Examining the amulet, anypony could tell from glance that there was care in its construction, inscripted into the amulet was the words: ‘Tranquilla Luna’

‘Calming Moon’… seems fitting…

The man was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a tired yawn and something shift in front of him. Looking down he saw that little Lulu had started awaken from her slumber, revealing her beautiful cyan orbs. Thankfully she did not wake Celly up as well considering that she was all snuggled up next to her.

“Hello there, my sweet Lulu,” Greeted the man, “How was your nap?”

Babbling tiredly, the blue bagged up piece of sweetness yawned again, nuzzling Celly before sleeping again.

“Well that was a great talk, let’s do it again sometime.” Jested the man, shaking his head.

I wonder if her full time job would be sleeping all day and night… I’d bet most of my species would’ve killed to get a job like that…

The man put the amulet back before relaxing for quite a while, taking in the scenery and filling his ears with the pure sounds of nature.

Unfortunately, they were not alone. The sound of twig snapped, followed by the disturbance of bushes made the man bring his guard up. He looked in the direction in which the sounds came from, it came from across the river but an predator could easily cross that without difficulty, the man however…

He rose up to his feet, keep an arm around the foals in his sling. The sounds were getting closer, he could see small bushes moving unnaturally in the distance, but he couldn’t see what was causing it. The man cautiously maneuvered to his staff that thankfully was just a few steps away.

Taking hold of it in his left hand, he pulled it out from the grasp of the earth and readied himself to protect his fillies. His eyes began to emit a ghastly purple glow and he brought his staff in front of him.

The man was ready to annihilate whatever was about to appear from the bushes, but stopped after it came out. His eyes widened and the purple glow faded from his eyes as he realised what was across the river.

It was a grey wolf. A male one if the man had to take a guess. The wolf had a dead rabbit in its mouth, but why wasn’t he eating it? Why was he here?

The wolf quickly noticed him, engaging the man in a staring contest as the man stood his ground. Seconds felt like centuries as they both stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

But neither moved.

A loud howl was heard in the distance, the wolf’s ears perked at the sound, craning his head it’s direction. It looked back at the man, staring at him for a few more seconds before departing, walking into the vegetation, vanishing from sight.

The man sighed, shaking his head slowly. He looked down and checked on his fillies, they were stirring in their sleep. Lulu was still drooling on his shirt, occasionally nuzzling it while Celly was sucking on one of her hoofs.

If they stay like this until they grow up, then this should be a piece of cake…

Another howl interrupted his thoughts however, and not wanting to take his chances with another wolf or a wild animal in general, he threw on his bag and quickly retraced his steps back to the path he detoured off of.

Getting back on the path was easy, but detouring to the river still wasn’t worth it. Especially coming into close contact with a wolf and endangering his fillies. Hour after hour, everytime he stopped momentarily to take a break, to eat and drink. He left them further in danger.

The man needed to pick up the pace, he knew the stories about this place. Mainly about the flora and fauna but that's what made it the best isolated spot on Equus. The problem that existed wouldn’t matter for long, he just has to make it to the Sanctuary and it’ll be resolved by supper.

Thankfully however, he saw the edges of the forest, the light shining upon his exit, it brought a warm smile to his face.

Looking down at his fillies, he whispered softly, “We’re almost there, my little ones. Soon, you’ll have a new place to call home” He finished, prompting their ears to flicker at his soft spoken words, Luna nuzzled against Celly, getting some of her azure mane in her face.

The man chuckled before continuing forward, to finish his journey.

One last effort…

When he reached the end of the forest and looked in the far distance, his eyes were filled with… disappointment. A dirt path from the forest led to a large sturdy stone manor that sat upon a small hill. The manor had timber framing concealed under the pointed roofs which had slate tiles nailed into the frames.

If it were possible, the man's purple eyes would’ve turned grey at the sight of the manor but at least the pointed arched windows with stained glass were the only thing that earned it any redemption.

Lush plains filled with all sorts of flowers and insects that relied on them along with several small hills surrounding the structure were one of the few things that made this place tolerable.

Another point of interest was a small stone bridge that went over a deep ditch, connecting the main body of land that the manor resided on and the secondary part of the land. It was possible to go around but that would take too long.

A large tall hill with a rocky cliff face was also on that second body of land. One could possibly build an observatory to observe terrestrial or celestial events. But all that will come in time, and right now he had to prepare the place for his fillies.

Taking a deep breath, the man took a step forward on the dirt path that was surrounded by plains that were thriving with life. He kept checking on Celly and Lulu, hoping that they would wake up and see their new temporary home for the first time.

But depriving them of their sleep might’ve been a far bigger crime. One that he was not willing to pay.

The walk to the manor didn’t take as long as the man expected. When he reached the stone stairs that led up to a pair of heavy wooden doors, he impaled the ground with his staff and moved closer to the manor. Examining the manor, he noted the texture of the stone that was used in the construction of the manor; the structure was free from cavities, cracks or patches of soft or loose material.

Insulation, strong and durable… This should last us a while.

The man's thoughts were instantly pulled away as he heard two very familiar yawns. Looking down, he was greeted with a pair of magenta and cyan orbs. He could see the curiosity and awe shining in their eyes.

“And how are we on this fine afternoon?”

The fillies babbled, trying reaching out to wrap their little legs around his neck, “Maybe later, I still need you fillies to look at your new home.”

The man carefully pulled the sling overhead and held it up, using his other arm to keep Celly and Lulu against his chest. Turning them about so that they were facing the manor, the held them a bit tighter before he started monologuing.

“Take a look, little ones,” The man over exaggeratedly gestured to the manor.

“Upon this fertile soil I shall lay the very first foundation to a modern civilisation. All will be equal here. Unicorn, Pegasi, Earth Pony, Threstral, Changeling, Griffon, it matters not. They shall all be my subjects.”

“Plague, hunger and suffering shall never come to them. Instead, their bellies shall be filled, their health shall never deteriorate and a smile shall be stitched onto their face.”

“They shall be able to read, to write, to learn, to love and most importantly… to live. Under our rule, they shall know my ‘Bulwark of Harmony’ and as my legacy, you shall help me bring Equus together as one.”

After he finished, he turned the sling around, “What do you think, my daug-“ He held his tongue as he realised that his fillies were fast asleep, snoring and leaning against each other.

…

“Oh come on, my monologuing couldn’t have been that boring,'' Beseeched the man, receiving nothing but snores from his two sources of sweetness. “Well, who’s more sleep inducing when they speak? Your mother or me?”

Yawning was Celly’s response while Lulu buried her face in Celly’s mane.

“You’re lucky you hold no concept of being grounded… at least not yet.”

Taking a seat on the stairs and pulling them closer to his heart, sighing and speaking sincerely, “I love you both and while I live, nothing will ever harm you.” Finished the man, gracing them with a loving kiss on their forehead.

Author's Note

“One story against the coming boredom, One last story forged encountering fate. Let it become my legacy to the profile I created, and my gift to the readers I’ve abandoned”

Sorry if it feels rushed, point out mistakes and leave criticism below. I’ll get to it when I can.

Chapter III - To Feed the Fillies

“Excuse me?” Apollyon questioned, gripping his staff ever tighter.

“You heard me, Human.” Apis smirked, looking around the occupied lush field, “There shall be no bargain between us.”

A purple flash emitted from Apollyon’s eyes before a purple aura slowly enveloped his staff. “May I ask why?” Apollyon asked.

Calmly walking around the Human, inspecting him from head to toe, “We may seem to do nothing all day, but that does not mean we do not see everything that does not occur, and through my time on Equus, I’ve heard many things that came from my ancestors, some true, some false… but there’s one above all that I believe with all my heart.”

Apollyon narrowed his eyebrows, craning his head as he tracked Apis’ movements, clenching his fists and tensing his muscles, “And that is?”

Apis made it back to his original spot, “NEVER make a deal with a Human” Apis finished with a huff, making no attempt to hide the disdain in his voice.

Apollyon glanced from side to side, looking at all the expressions of the females; Anger, regret, loss. These were one of the many faces that stuck onto them.

Looking back to the sole male, Apollyon maintained his ground, “This isn’t for me, this is for my daughters.”

“I heard that before.” Apis scoffed.

“This is different.”

“I heard that before too.”

Growling, Apollyon stepped up to the bull, triggering a protective instinct from his females.They lowered themselves, digging their hooves into the dirt, preparing to charge at the Human, “What could you know?!” Apollyon shouted, “Has your herd even encountered a Human before?!”

“No, but it does not mean their ancestors have been affected by their past”

“Times have changed, and I can guarantee you,” Apollyon held out his aura enveloped fillies in front of the Apis, “This. Is. Different” He said sternly ”This. Is. Real.”

While Apis and Apollyon had their tense negotiations, Celly and Lulu were too occupied with each other to notice the bull in front of them. A light bulb appeared out of thin air above Celly’s head, she looked to Lulu who was too concerned with her horn to notice. Celly leaned forward slowly, sticking her tongue out to the side while reaching out to Lulu’s snoot with a hoof.

Before you knew it…

*Boop*

Lulu froze, going cross eyed at the white hoof and twitching her nose. Celly, retracted her hoof, giving Lulu a sense of false reprieve before reaching out again.

*Boop*

That was the final straw however. Lulu stared at the hoof, slightly opening her mouth, leaning back and looking towards the sky with squinted eyes.

Uh oh… Apollyon thought, pulling Celly back into his embrace.

It would’ve taken Apis a miracle to not notice what Apollyon did, but when he eventually did, he and his herd took a few steps back, swallowing their throats in the process.

Everyone held their breaths as Lulu let in a long inhale. Sparks of cobalt blue energy began to emit from her horn, slowly gathering energy until she let out a delicate but wet sneeze while simultaneously releasing a destructive and explosive spear of cobalt coloured magical energy into the sky; piercing a hole in the sky, evaporating the very clouds it made contact with.

Everyone turned away from the beacon of light. Apis and his herd shielded covered their eyes with a leg while Apollyon turned and held Celly close to his chest, shielding her eyes from the blinding light.

The destructive magical blast ceased to exist after a moment or two, allowing Apis and his herd to uncover their eyes while Apollyon turned around with Celly still in his embrace.

“Are you ok?” Worried Apollyon, looking down at the Alicorn in his embrace. Celly didn’t seem fazed by the event she had caused - that or she hadn’t even noticed - instead she stared into Apollyon’s shimmering eyes, shifting around in his hands briefly before laughing and giggling.

“Well, you seem fine…” Apollyon sighed, shaking his head as he watched Celly giggle and reach out to feel the fragile skin of his face.

Sighing again, his gaze turned to Lulu, who remained floating in the air, enveloped in Apollyon’s purple aura.

Lulu rubbed her nose with a hoof before letting out a dragged out yawn, arching her back, stretching her limbs and spreading her little wings.

The Human brought Celly to the back of his shoulder before bringing Lulu into the physical holds of his hand. Planting his staff in the ground before letting it free, he gently placed his hands around Lulu’s barrel, his slender digits surrounding the small body.

Lifting her up high enough so their eyes were at even height, “Are you alright, my dearest Lulu?” Apollyon fretted, looking for any signs of irregularities around her horn.

Seeing nothing but a few cobalt sparks here and there, and some snot creeping down her nose, he lowered Lulu to his waist and pulled out a piece of his shirt with his hand, bringing it to her nose and squeezing the sides of it to collect the snot from her.

Apollyon felt an insignificant struggle and a pair of small hooves pushing against his arm but he soon released her nose.

Enveloping Celly and Lulu in a purple aura. Apollyon brought them together, side by side, facing the Human. Looking into the orbs of curious magenta, Apollyon crossed his arms and leaned back slightly, “Celly… you can’t boop your sister's nose while she is still young. Would you like it if someone did it to you?”

Receiving nothing but a tilted head for a response, Apollyon leaned forward, his head invading Celly’s non-existent concept of personal space, “Well? What do you have to say for yourse-”

*Boop*

Apollyon froze, he recoiled back slightly but the majority of him remained still. A white hoof was firmly planted on his nose, tracing it back to the owner, he saw bits of curiosity overtaking Celly before she slowly giggled and laughed in that purple aura, rocking about, doing barrel rolls or putting her hooves together.

Lulu turned to her sister and was quickly caught up in her actions, following it in every way possible. Although her wings weren’t as large as Celly’s she did her best and didn’t let it bother her.

Meanwhile, Apis watched the Alicorns laugh and play in the air together, constantly glancing between the frozen Human and the content baby Alicorns.

One by one, his herd slowly came forward, watching the display with undivided interest. Doing their best to stare into the eyes of the human, who seemed to have forgotten their existence in the world.

After watching the display for a moment or two, Apis approached the human once again and cleared his throat, grabbing his attention and prompting him to pull the Alicorns into his protective embrace; wrapping an arm around both of them and pulling them tightly to his torso, lightly squeezing them and repositioning himself with his staff in front of them.

“Those Alicorns are real then?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow and keeping an eye for any signs of sudden changes on the facial expression of the human.

“As real as you and I. As real as the dirt we walk upon, and as real as the oxygen we breathe.”

Tensing his toned muscles, Apis looked to the members of his herd, taking his time as his gaze shifted to the next member and to the next. Soon he came back to Apollyon, who waited patiently for an answer.

“No,” Apis sternly said, looking at the disturbed earth of the field.

His answer prompted a change in the human’s expression and stance; from a neutral look to an angered one; from an already tense stance to an aggressive one.

Maintaining his ground, Apis looked at the human with a spark of determination in his eyes, “For the future of my herd, I cannot make a deal with a human. It’s too risky.”

Apollyon stared deep into Apis’ eyes, his flashing purple gaze reflecting in the eyes of the bull. The piercing purple gaze penetrated Apis’ layers and went straight for his soul. They’re eyes remained locked, Apis did his best to stand his ground, but soon he started to shake slightly before his eyes slowly began to widen.

Fortunately for Apis, Apollyon ceased his actions and returned to his neutral stance and expression just when a tear almost broke out from the bull.

“I… understand your cautious behaviour…” Apollyon sighed, “Despite me being human, I would do the same in your position.” He looked down to the fillies in his hold, their own orbs looking up into his, smiling and reaching out, “But for my family… I must insist that you accept.”

Apis’ lost himself in the interactions between the fillies to the human. Gleaming happiness in their eyes and the sounds of delicate laughter coming out of their mouths and filling his ears.

When their small orbs turned to him, he froze as curiosity shimmered in their eyes. His own black reflection looking back at him.

Realising that he has been blankly staring at them for quite some time, he shook his head free of his thoughts before looking up to the human.

“Whatever my heart desires?” Apis recalled, upon receiving a nod from Apollyon, he looked to each member of his herd before looking back at the human, “Rights.”

Raising an eyebrow, Apollyon carefully watched the expressions on the bull’s face, “Rights to what?”

“Rights for my herd and I to be free.” Apis said, a spark of determination in his eyes, “Rights to not be used as simple livestock, the rights live freely as an individual - not in a pasture surrounded by wooden fences or stone walls like an domesticated animal.”

“But domestication is the only reason why you’re still here, breathing, and not choking on your own blood with the fangs of a manticore embedded deeply within your neck. Your entire existence is to produce for the ones who are considered sapient in this world.”

“I’m talking to you with words. Is that not proof enough?”

“By human standards, no.” Apollyon scoffed, “You have yet to build a real society, I mean, the Yaks have built one up north and they’re more ignorant than you.”

The black bull stomped on the ground, barely quaking the field while Apollyon gripped his staff tighter. They locked onto each other’s eyes, glaring daggers into each other, but Apollyon ceased.

“But who’s to say that now” Apollyon smiled, “It’s definitely not us.” —He held out a hand with the palm looking towards the sky— “Will you be the first to change the life of your species? To shape its destiny as humanity has shaped its own?”

“Under your rule?” Apis questioned

Apollyon cocked his head to the side, “If that is what you wish, but you will not be able to shape your own destiny, for I have a shared destiny for all those under my rule, if you wish to follow, then there shall be a spot for your species” Apollyon said, letting his hand drop to his side.

After a moment or two of deepthought, Apis raised his hoof, to make a declaration of agreement. A smile grew on Apollyon’s face, his canines sending shivers down the spines of the herd, his eyes and staff flashed purple but when the human held out his own free hand to shake the hoof, Apis pulled back slightly.

“Why are you doing this?” Apis questioned, prompting the human to roll his eyes.

So many questions…

“Why am I doing what? Raising a Kingdom?” Apis nodded, “The way the world is right now; everybody at each other's throats. Would that make you feel safe? Knowing that these figures command countless armies and knowing that you could be caught in the middle. Where would you go then? Where would you take your herd? To flee the dogs of war and all the dangers that follow them: Death, plague, starvation.”

Apollyon paused and looked to Apis’ herd, gesturing to them with a free hand, “That is why I shall raise a Kingdom upon this fertile soil. To save those who wish not to fight and die in a war not their own. To welcome the tired, the weak, the old, the helpless and the huddled masses, yearning to breathe free - regardless of their species or origins, they shall all be welcomed here.”

“And they’ll all live under the rule of a Human?”

Apollyon chuckled, “Ironic, is it not?” Upon receiving a murmur of agreement from Apis, he continued, “This Kingdom shall be a beacon of light in this world of darkness. A lighthouse to the ships lost at sea; carrying hundreds of broken souls only seeking to live out their days in peace; watching the seasons past and their children grow, before succumbing to the sands of time. I will welcome them with everything that’s essential to every individual; food to eat, water to drink, housing, safety and security and medical care for those afflicted with disease or injury.”

“Y-you can provide all that?”

“I worked with someone who did it for a long time, and she did it quite swimmingly if I may add. I don’t see why I wouldn’t be able to do it.”

“You’re Human.”

“I know.” Apollyon said nonchalantly

“You don’t think this will hinder your plans?”

“I think it will… but then again…” Apollyon glanced briefly at the forest surrounding the field him before returning his gaze to the bull, giving him a smirk, “I don’t think they’ll be left with a choice.”

In an instant, Apis realised what the Human was saying. His eyes briefly widened and he raised his head slightly, “I guess you make a point, Human.”

“Good, so…” Apollyon held his hand out once again, “Do we have a deal?”

Silence fell upon the herd as they watched the exchange; the exchange that could change their lives forever.

Apis reached out for the Apollyon’s hand, letting him wrap his digits around his hoof before tightening his grip. He stared at his hoof, watching him seal the deal. Apis’ gaze almost went to the orbs of the Human, fortunately he looked away before he locked onto them for the final time.

“What is your name, bull.”

“You already know my name Human.”

“I know, but a proper introduction is required for the starting foundations of our relationship,” Apis stepped back as Apollyon placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly, “My name is Apollyon, and I’m a Human with who carries a shared destiny for those who wish to follow,” A purple aura developed the fillies in his hold, levitating them out of his grasp and into the air, “And these are my daughters.”

Apollyon held the white one up, “This one is Celestia and the other,”--He lowered Celly and raised Lulu higher--”Is Luna.”

A spark of curiosity lit up in Celly’s eyes as she looked at the bull, she reached out and babbled happily at him, Luna on the other hand didn’t hold the same amount of curiosity as her sister. Lulu turned to Apollyon and reached out to him, giving off some worried babbling that immediately sent her back into the physical hold of Apollyon, she then nuzzled his chest like no tomorrow and attempted to wrap her legs around his large body.

Sighing at the display, Apollyon held Lulu tightly as he waited for Apis to properly introduce himself.

“Uh, my name is Apis,” He declared, bowing clumsily and imperfectly, promoting Apollyon to chuckle and Celly to laugh at the sight. He cleared his throat before finishing, “And I’m the leader of this herd and a firm believer in the separation of domestication”

“Well Apis,” Apollyon started, pulling the curious Celly back into his hold, next to Lulu, “You are wise not to trust me. Ponens fidem vestram in unum, est periculosum. Placing your faith in one, is dangerous”

Apis pulled his leg away, his face clearly perplexed at the sudden change of tongue, “Y-you speak another tongue?”

“Of course,” Apollyon admitted proudly, “I thought your ancestors told you all about us.”

“Not all sadly, but enough.”

“Heh, well, from what you’ve said so far, they haven’t strayed far from the truth. Perhaps you can tell me more and we can… discuss the future of your herd, but for now…” Apollyon looked down at the fillies in his hold, “Your healthiest female, if you will.”

“Right. Clarabelle!” Apis called out, looking at one of the females in his herd and waving her over. The other females looked at her with worry, but they didn’t stop her, those who were in her path made way for the chosen.

Apollyon looked at the cow that slowly approached the group.

Her hide was brown, she had long eyelashes that would defend her eyes, and a pair of short but sharp horns that pointed right at Apollyon would defend the herd from physical threats.

She was a healthy looking brown female from what he could tell from sight. His eyes darted to different parts of her body, examining each of them and looking for any signs of pain, either from her facial expressions or in her movements, but strong, well coordinated movements proved that she wasn’t sick or in pain. By the eyes of the Human, she had a good enough meat on her; there were no bones visible on her body.

No signs of injury or plague… at least from sight. She has been eating well; the ribcage isn’t visible… that's good.

As she neared Apollyon, he held up a hand, telling her to stop.

The female hesitated but complied nevertheless, a wave of confusion washed all over her face, as she wondered what was wrong.

“Is something wrong?” Apis asked, looking at the Human’s neutral expressions but avoiding gazing into his eyes.

“I trust Harpstrings enough to know that none you are ill, she would’ve selected different herd in place of yours, but…”--He held raised his staff and hovered the top over Clarabelle--”It never hurts to make sure, especially when it comes to the wellbeing of my family.”

Purple energy began to surround the staff, but most of it went towards the book and the figure on top. Soon, an aura surrounded Clarabelle. Panicking, she looked at her own body as she struggled to move, to get out of the human’s grip.

“”Let me go!” She demanded, prompting Apis to step forward.

“What are you doing?!” Apis shouted, making every single cow in the vicinity tense up their muscles and lower themselves, ready for a charge.

“Relax,” Apollyon calmly said “I’m just making sure she’s healthy and carries no diseases in her body. As long as she doesn’t struggle then she’ll be fine and this will go a lot quicker”

“I can’t take that chance!”

“You are sapient… are you not?” Apollyon questioned

“What? What does this have to do-”

“If you claim to be sapient then you must use your brain to think” Apollyon paused before continuing, “What would be the point of having an intelligence - on par with a human’s - if you can’t use it. So, think! After all, that’s what separates us sapients from the animals.”

Muscles tensing, nostrils flaring, Apis dug his hooves into the ground and lowered himself, ready to charge at the human, “Think about what?” Apis said, anger in his voice.

Rolling his eyes, the human responded, “Think about the logic behind me hurting a member of your herd. What would I have to gain from that? Why would I hurt the chance for my daughters to be fed? To rob them of the milk that they require until they are able to consume solids”

“I don’t know, but you’re human, I know I can’t trust you.”

“I’m sick of this ‘Don’t trust the human crap’” Apollyon groaned, “If you want to charge, then go ahead, just know that when you do, you’ve only doomed your herd, as the night falls, your herd will be ravage by the predators that inhabit the great forests of the Everfree.”

Apis clenched his jaw, you could visibly see the muscle tensing up as he stared angrily at the human. Fortunately he closed his eyes and calmed down, taking deep breaths before returning to a neutral stance.

“How long will it take?” Apis sighed, looking at Clarabelle and tensing up as he saw her frightened expression.

“It would’ve been done by now if you would’ve kept your mouth shut.” Apollyon retorted

Apis’ eyebrows narrowed at the response but he held his tongue. The other females relaxed a bit but they were still ready, just in case.

Clarabelle could only constantly glance at the pair in her position. One who questioned the intelligence of her species and the other, who readied himself to protect her. Her eyes went to the Alicorn in the human’s hold, a pair of curious magenta orbs looking into her own brown ones.

The white filly was undoubtedly interested in her. The filly’s head tilted to the side with her mouth slightly opened as she looked all over her frozen form, at least the front of it.

The dark blue filly on the other hand only seemed concerned with the human and her sister, nuzzling them both with her eyes closed and a smile on her muzzle.

After a moment or two, the purple aura that once surrounded Clarabelle left her and dissipated into thin air. She regained movements and began to test out each limb of her body, moving it about and stretching it. Once she was satisfied, she looked to the human, his determined gaze staring her own.

“I’m done.”

“And?” Apis questioned, awaiting an answer.

“She’s clean.”

“You know…” Clarabelle started, getting the attention of the males, “If you wanted to do that, then maybe you should’ve tried asking first.” She said, eyes twitching with a hint of anger in her voice.

“Yeah sure. When was the last time you’ve heard of a human asking for permission?” Apollyon quizzed, receiving cold glares from Apis and Clarabelle, “Find a comfortable spot to lay down Clarabelle, you’ll be laying down there for a while.”

With a ‘hmph’ and her nose pointed to the sky, she walked off in the direction of the manor, the only spot with a decent amount of shade that was not near the forest. Apis followed close behind while Apollyon remained still. He remained unmoved as the brown eyed cows of the field stared daggers at him but soon they all returned to their previous activities, whether it was eating the green grass from the field or just talking to each other.

Clarabelle slowly made her way to the manor, but he slowed down to a halt, awaiting the head of the herd to catch up. Once he had done that, she continued walking, keeping in pace with Apis.

“Can we trust him?” Clarabelle asked, glancing back at the human, who seemed more interested in talking with the fillies on his shoulders than them, “I mean, you’ve heard how humans can be.”

“I… don’t know. I believe the stories are true - and he did say so himself - but it’s not like we have a choice. I want us to be free from servitude and if he can get us that chance, then I think it's a risk worth taking.”

Sighing, Clarabelle stopped and faced Apis, prompting him to stop as well, “I want freedom as much as the next cow but how do we know that the human will uphold his end of the bargain?”

“We don’t, but now it made me wish I was listening to Lady Harpstrings when she was talking about him.”

“Harpstrings is a good mare, I don’t think she would’ve spent time with that human if he would’ve ruined her tune.”

“I know,” Apis sighed, briefly glancing at the human who… was staring at the sun and talking to it? Apis wondered what he was doing, staring at such an object, but he quickly redirected his eyes back to Clarabelle when the blue filly tapped Apollyon’s neck and pointed at him, drawing the attention of a pair of purple orbs.

“You ok Apis?” Clarabelle asked

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just stared for too long.”

“Heed the stories Apis.”

“I know, I know. You don’t have to remind me.”

A sound of someone clearing their throat was made, announcing their presence to the two, “Is there a problem here?”

The two cattle winced and turned to face the human, “No, there isn’t a problem. We were just talking about one of our stories.”

The human remained neutral, the only emotions were from the aura enveloped Alicorns on his shoulders, “What do you think Lulu?” Apollyon asked, looking to his left shoulder, “I think they’re only telling a half truth.”

Babbling came out of her mouth as she looked into the eyes of her father, to everyone else but Celly, it sounded like she was questioning them.

“Yeah, well. It’s either that or something about the grass they eat.”

Recoiling back from the comment, Apis opened his mouth to speak his mind but was silenced the moment the human cut in, “You wanted to talk about your rights right?” Upon receiving a nod, he started to make his way to the manor, “Well hurry up, I still have a lot of things to do before night falls and I’m not leaving my daughters unsupervised.”

When the human left, Apis sighed and looked to Clarabelle who was red with anger, “What we will do for a taste of freedom. Am I right?”

“Sure,” Clarabelle scoffed, “But it wouldn’t hurt if he would be little nicer.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, after all…” The bull looked to the human who removed the Alicorns from his shoulders, wrapping them in his hold before leaning the staff against the wall and sitting beside it with the fillies in his arms, “He is human.”

Author's Note

After writing this chapter and going over it, I have to admit we didn't get far. If it's a problem then I'll do better for future chapters.

Criticism and thoughts are appreciated. It gives me a perspective on the readers side and believe me, it does help me write.

Chapter IV - To Break Free

The group split off.

Clarabelle laid to the side, enjoying and relaxing in the shade of the manor that looked over them while Apis walked to Apollyon who was occupied with entertaining his fillies.

“You know Apollyon, you would make a terrible partner to work with.”

Apollyon's eyes left the happy fillies in his lap to the bull standing to the side. Receiving a questioning look from the human, Apis spoke up, “Is there something wrong?”

Facing his fillies again, he chuckled, slowly shaking his head, “I’m still getting used to cattle asking for the rights to be free.” chuckling again, he looked to the bull who seemed offended by the comment, “You know, not everyone will agree with this.”

“I know, but that’s why I’m asking a human.”

“And a human in need just happens to have crossed with a herd that wants the impossible.” Scoffing, he looked towards the cow littered field, “Damnant quod unicornis… this was your idea all along wasn’t it?”

“Oh well.” Apollyon sighed, “We do what we must for who we love and as far as I’m concerned; asking for rights is nothing compared to what I was prepared to give you.”

Perplexed, Apis cocked his head to the side as the human got up and walked over to Clarabelle, who was simply laying in the shade, waiting, “I thought you said we were asking for the impossible.”

“Oh no, I can make that happen.” Apollyon assured, taking a knee beside the cow and placing Lulu and Celly near Clarabelle’s udders, waiting for their instincts to kick in.

When it did, Clarabelle was startled by the sucking sensation but soon relaxed after. She shifted every now and then to find a comfortable spot to lay down in for a while before finally relaxing and letting the fillies do their thing.

Seeing that Lulu and Celly were being nurtured, Apollyon stood back up and returned to his original spot, unchaining the aged book that was under the Phoenix figurehead.

“Though issuing a constitution will give your species rights, but it won’t mean others will accept it. It’s a process that’ll take time and effort, one that’ll be on you and not me.”

“What are you saying, Apollyon?” Apis questioned, squinting at the human

Sighing, Apollyon finally removed the chains from the aged book and placed it under his arm before facing the bull, “I can build the boat, but I can’t push it out. I can lay the foundation for your rights but it’s up to the people if they think it’s alright.”

“But you said you would give us the rights to live freely, away from the bonds of servitude.” Apis recalled with a slightly raised voice.

“And I will, but I can’t force people to change a lifestyle that has existed since the Primogenitus built the first cities. This will take time and effort to change what people have taken for granted. For some species like, Hippogriffs and Ponies, this will be easy but the other species like Dragons, Griffons and Diamond Dogs are the problem since they heavily rely on the butcher of your species to keep growing.”

“But there are other ways to get food, different ways that do not require us getting eaten.”

“You don’t think we would’ve tried that already if we thought it would work?” Chuckling, Apollyon opened his book to the first page and started skimming through the ancient texts while talking to the bull, “The Dragons burn everything first and ask questions later, the pride of the Griffons is only matched by our own and the Diamond Dogs are still developing a simple protolanguage that hasn’t made much progress, even with our help.”

“Alright.” Apis sighed, “But there are others that are reasonable.”

“Of course, but right now we’re getting ahead of ourselves, for now we can discuss your rights, but in the future you’ll have to deal with the Ponies. The Earth Pony peasants and Pegasi soldiers will be easy, the Unicorn Nobles, eh, not so much.”

“I know. Most of them will just laugh at the suggestion of cattle going free.”

“I would too,” Apollyon declared proudly, receiving a cold glare from the bull, “Domestication has made you too valuable to just die to some greedy Griffon or some ill tempered Dragon.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to survive, I want to live,” Looking towards the green field and to the members occupying it, “And I’m sure most of them would too.”

Apollyon halted his skimming of the ancient texts, instead, he looked, tracing the gaze of the bull to the field's occupants. The Human’s eyes shifted back to the ancient texts, flipping to the next page, he started reading it, taking in everything it had to offer.

Frangere Libero

Dicunt, homo non vere scit se, donec eius libertatem fuerit aufertur. Sed Homo fuerit clausum, ad manus fati quia 'Magnum Bellum'; passus sub eius tabernus calcaneum, accipiens et perpetuam omnia quae habebat, ut iacerent in eos.

Ad profectum et progressus, mutare populo nostro, nobis opus est, clamare contra fortunam, potius quam arcu in capitibus nostris, et succumbit, est determinata, et hoc est quod fecit. Pro moriens de metiri volunt, concedentes, ut elementa, nos iter per terram invenire novum locum pro populo nostro componere.

Et per duro ventis, uerticem deserta et aspera frigora... invenimus locum requiescendi.

Tulerunt nobis, texerunt nobis, fed nobis. Et sciebat quid esset capax, et quid nos ad finem imposuit ad bellum, fortasse inde est, quod illi dedit nobis partem de terra sua, ut gratias, ad auxilium aedificabo populo nostro humo, sed... vellent magis, et factus est eorum aeterna protectores.

Et quod non erat popularis moventur cum populo nostro.

Looking up and away from the ancient texts of the book, Apollyon turned to the clear blue sky, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he shut the book violently getting the instant attention of the bull, “Perhaps… I will support you, fully that is.”

Taken back by the sudden change, Apis stepped up to the human, “But aren’t you against the freedom of my kind?”

“I still am,” Apollyon admitted as he turned around, opening the book again and looking at his staff.

“So why the change of heart? You’re only doing this for your daughters.” Apis stated as Apollyon grabbed his staff and rechained the open aged open book back under the figurehead.

“That I am.” Apollyon responded bluntly, looking over his shoulder, an eye glaring at the bull. Taking a breath, he looked to the book again before subconsciously placing a hand on his chest, gripping a piece of his shirt tightly, “But perhaps… this is the destiny of your species.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Heh,” Apollyon chuckled, turning to face the bull, “We’ll find out in time, won’t we?”

“Hmm, maybe, that is if your plan actually works, and to be honest I am a bit skeptical of it.”

“Regardless if it works or not, I have accomplished one of my objectives.”

Apis glanced over at the fillies who continued to be nursed by Clarabelle under the looming shadow of the foreboding manor. The female checked up on the sisters every now and then, craning her neck to see if they had satiated their hunger, upon seeing that they hadn't she laid back down, staring at the field and watching the other members of the herd chat amongst themselves.

“Hmm, you know… my ancestors have told us many things about your kind Apollyon,” Apis said, looking back at the Human, “But I’m just trying to figure out which are true and which are false.”

“And?” Apollyon dragged on, waiting for Apis to continue.

“Is it true that your species knows everything about Equus?”

The man chuckling made the bull’s ears droop slightly, perplexed as he heard the chuckling shift into laughter.

Taking a few breaths to calm down, Apollyon returned to his normal state, “Yes,” He answered after a breath, “And no.”

Confused even more, the bull pushed on, “But your species has existed far longer than others on Equus, surely your species must know the answers to some of the questions that has plagued Ponies, Griffons and more for centuries.”

“Of course we have those answers. We have existed far longer than any other species on Equus.”

Apis paused for a few seconds, “So do you know the answers to those questions?”

“Depends on the question.”

“Hmm, well, ‘What’s the meaning of life?’ ‘Why are we here?’ ‘What is life all about?’ ‘What is the purpose of existence?’ Do you know the answers to these questions?”

“Yes,” Apollyon smirked, instantly drawing in undivided attention from the bull with his ears perking up and his head cocking to the side, “And no.” Instantly, the bull’s ears dropped and his mouth was left slightly agape.

Eyes twitching, Apis shook his head and interrogated, “W-what do you mean ‘yes and no?’ Do you know the answers to life’s questions or not?”

“Of course I do. We have existed far longer than any other species on Equus.”

Groaning, Apis dragged his hoof down his face before stomping onto the ground,”I know. You said that already,” Apis frustratingly said.

Hmm… maybe a direct question…

Glaring at the grinning human, he asked a question, “What is the purpose of existence?”

Grinning even more, Apollyon answered, “That depends.”

“Depends on what?!” Apis exclaimed

“Whose existence.”

Thinking for a bit, Apis pondered about which species to ask, and spoke upon picking a species, “Ponykind’s existence.”

“That depends,” Apollyon smugly said, feeling the steam emitting from the bull

“Alright. Are all Humans as irritating as you?”

“Yes… and no.”

“H-how can it be yes, and no?” Apis groaned

“It depends.”

If the black bull’s hide could turn a shade of volcanic red then he must be in a heated position right now, he bit his tongue to hold back everything that could spew out at the Human, but after taking a few deep breaths, he blankly looked up at the Human’s grinning face.

“I really don’t like you.”

“I’d be surprised if another species did,” Apollyon retorted as he walked past Apis and to Clarabelle and his fillies, leaving the bull to huff and follow suit.

“How are they?” Asked the now kneeling Human, who embedded his staff into the ground next to him as he watched his daughters fill themselves.

Clarabelle adjusted herself, sitting up so that she could look at Apollyon, “They’re fine… I think,” She answered checking on the Alicorns, but she asked a question that lingered in her mind, “They’re drinking a lot, is that normal?”

“I’d be worried if they didn't,” Apollyon said calmly, gently placing a hand behind Lulu’s ears, giving them a satisfying scratch that made them flicker.

“So it is normal?”

“Yes, it is,” Apollyon assured, placing his free hand on Celly’s head to provide her the same treatment, “Some species have special diets that they need to abide by to survive but Alicorns are… different.”

“How so?” Apis asked, taking a seat behind Clarabelle.

“Strength, flight, magic, size. They will be larger and more powerful than their lesser brethren. Their bodies will require more nutrients to sustain themselves, at least until they’ve stopped growing physically.”

Apis and Clarabelle shared a perplexed look, “Uh, nutrients?” Apis questioned, looking back Apollyon

After hearing what Apis said, Apollyon sighed and hung his head low, bringing a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples.

Right, they haven’t come up with the basics of food science yet…

“It’s a human thing,” Apollyon answered as he looked up, “Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so…” Apis grumbled under his breath

Hearing a burp or two, Apollyon looked down and smiled at the pair. Taking hold of his staff and enveloping them in a purple aura of energy that sent shivers down the spines of the cows, they lifted off the ground and placed onto the shoulders of Apollyon.

Some of the energy lingered near Apis and Clarabelle’s head. The two were caught in a trance, staring at the wandering energy, lost and alone. Slowly, it reached out to them, slithering ever closer, slowly shifting the colours of their irises’ to purple.

Apollyon quickly noticed this, and with a simple tap on the dirt with his staff, the energy dissipated into nothing, returning the cows back to Equus.

The cattle shook their heads free, the purple in their eyes remained until they resumed blinking, making the ghastly purple vanish before returning the colours of their irises to hazel brown.

“I, uh. W-what h-happened?” Apis asked, trembling with Clarabelle - of who, remained still and silent.

“What do you remember?” Apollyon quizzed, staring into his eyes with a stern look.

“I-I don’t k-know,” Apollyon gave him a questionable look, “I-I saw something… I heard something, that, t-that’s it”

“And you Clarabelle? Did you share the same experience as Apis?”

Clarabelle’s eyes carried the look of someone in deep thought, lost in her own world, but after Apollyon repeated himself, Clarabelle’s eyes slowly shifted to the waiting Human, “S-sorry, I was… lost” She ended with a whisper, “D-did you say s-something?”

Apollyon’s eyebrows narrowed further, his eyes squinting almost to a close. Once again, he repeated himself, thankfully getting an real answer this time, though it was the same response as Apis.

“I think you two are just exhausted,” Apollyon lied as he rose to his full height, getting a few giggles from the fillies on his shoulders, “Get some rest, tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“Wait a min-” Apis started, before being swiftly cut off by Apollyon.

“And if you want me to help you attain your freedom, you’ll help me with my goals. After all, the price for freedom comes at a cost.”

Eyebrows narrowing, Apis stared daggers into Apollyon.

Damn Human…

Apollyon chuckled, replacing Apis’ once glaring face with one of confusion and concern.

“Chin up Apis, before long you will know the freedom you and your kind so desire, and then all that remains is: What you will do when you take the first step, being unshackled and unbound.”

“I don’t see the difference between you and the nobility.” Apis scoffed, prompting Apollyon to raise an eyebrow, “Already, you are asserting your control over us, despite you promising us our free-“ The rant of the bull was cut off quickly as his mouth held shut by a purple aura that emitted from the book and the figurehead of the staff.

Eyes widening, he looked up to the staring human, ignoring the curious looks of the fillies on his shoulders.

“Are you done yet? Bull?”

“Hey! What are you doing?!” Clarabelle exclaimed, attempting to get up quickly, but was unfortunately swiftly forced back down by the same purple aura that held Apis’ mouth shut.

“Stay down and remain calm. The more you struggle, the more it’ll hurt.”

Heeding Apollyon’s advice, Clarabelle ceased resisting, succumbing to the effects of the aura’s will.

Apis shook his head, getting a mocking laugh from the human as Apollyon watched the bull attempt to struggle free.

“You are an ignorant species. You know nothing of the concept of freedom or what it has taken to keep that ideal in place. I do not expect a frail mind such as yours to attempt to understand something beyond your comprehension and reach, but I do expect you to obey the words of a species much higher than your own. But know that I will help you, soon you will no longer be bound to physical chains and will become free, but for now I need your support; To prepare this land for the future.”

Apollyon’s grip over the bulls tightened. Apis felt the harsh squeeze as he was pulled forward, coming eye to eye to the human, “Do you understand me?” Apollyon menacingly said, his eyes letting out a brief purple flash.

Receiving a rapid, fearful nod, “Good,” Apollyon tapped the ground with his staff, releasing Apis and Clarabelle immediately.

“You’re smarter than the rest of your kind Apis,” Apollyon commented, watching the cattle rub their sore bodies that once were tightened by the aura, “It makes me wonder if Harpstrings broke the law and graced your species with education… or if the Earth Ponies somehow came up with the idea to teach anything that has nothing to do with farming.”

The bull tended to the well-being of Clarabelle, worriedly looking over her body. She gave him a reassuring look and slowly proceeded to get up on her own. Apis turned to face Apollyon, his eyes fired up, “And what’s it to you?”

“It warrants a question. In Human society, in times of great strife, there was always one individual who revolutionised society for the… ‘better’. Some were good. Some were bad.”

“And? What’s your point?”

“It just makes me wonder which is the case for you; The first of his kind to lead them out of servitude or the first of his kind to be the downfall of his entire species.”

“I’m not even sure if I want to be graced with human wisdom now if you make it sound like that.”

“Why not? Knowledge is power. Knowledge is both a curse and a blessing, it all comes down to how the person uses said knowledge; To bless his kind with humble strength and wisdom, or to curse his own with endless greed and torment.”

“Is this something you humans went through?”

“Yes. Unlike some other species, humans learn from their mistakes the most when it affects them deeply.” Pausing briefly, he glanced at Clarabelle before continuing, “My enlightenment has been served, another time I shall provide another to a frail species.”

“Is it also a human thing to insult every species they meet?” Apis questioned, emitting a low growl.

“Yes,” Apollyon admitted bluntly, without hesitation, “Considering our standing on the world stage, you could say that we’re pretty much obligated too.”

“So… your kind is really as arrogant as my ancestors have said.”

“Perhaps… but where one might view us as arrogant, another might view us as confident… After all, humanity was never one to sit quietly when xenos have tried to force us into submission,” Rubbing his chin with his hand, he held his hand out to the bull, “Unlike say… a certain species that have done so… for so long.” Apollyon ended with a smirk.

“But all that will change.”

“Yes it will… in time.” Apollyon turned about, walking off and heading towards the back entrance to the kitchen, leaving the cattle behind, “But for now, rest, for tomorrow will be filled with nothing but blood, sweat and tears.” He shouted as he left, opening the door and finally entering the manor.

Once the human was gone from sight, Apis turned about, taking a few steps to stand in front of Clarabelle.

“Are you alright?” Apis questioned, checking over her body once again.

“I’m fine,” She quickly reassured, “It didn’t hurt much, it just felt like… h-he placed something heavy on me. J-just making it impossible for me to move.” Taking a brief breath before continuing, “That’s twice he used that… whatever it was on me, he’s starting to get on my nerves.”

“I know what you mean… I’m starting to regret making this deal. This human feels like he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

“What we will do for a taste of freedom. Am I right?” Clarabelle recalled.

“Yeah… “ Apis sighed, “Now we just have to keep reminding ourselves that… At least until he keeps his end of the bargain”

“We must keep our faith in Lady Harpstrings, I don’t think she would’ve left us out here alone with a… human if she didn’t care about us.”

Taking a deep breath, Apis looked to the surrounding forests, “Yeah… you’re right. Let’s just give it time and… maybe things will get better along the way” Looking towards Clarabelle once more, he gave her a somewhat forced smile, “Let’s just… try to put up with him.”

“A month or two should do. I think those fillies should be able to eat solids by then, but… I’m no expert on Alicorns. If anything the human should know.”

“Yeah, all that knowledge and wisdom… just locked up inside that head of his.”

“Speaking of knowledge and wisdom… What did you ask him? Enlightenment?”

Groaning, he looked to Clarabelle with a deadpan expression, “The meaning of life.”

“And?” Clarabelle waited, leaning in slightly as her interest peaked.

“And I received an infuriating answer that’ll continue to bother me until I actually get a proper answer from him.”

“Oh…” Clarabelle said, a little let down from a response like that, “Well, I guess some things aren’t easy to obtain afterall.”

“Well he did provide some enlightenment, it wasn’t what I asked for but it was something.”

“You can tell us all about it later, I’m just going to lie down with the girls,” Clarabelle turned towards the green field her herd occupied, but stopped suddenly, craning her head to the side until an eye was on Apis, “By the way… When we both looked into that purple… stuff, what did you see?”

Immediately, Apis showed signs of disturbance at a question like that. Turning to face Clarabelle, he looked into her eyes with a straight face, “I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me what you saw.”

“Hmph, fair enough, Apis” Clarabelle ended, finally heading towards a part of the herd, getting a view of the setting sun.

With nothing more to exchange between the two, Apis glanced towards the stone manor.

What have you gotten us into Harpstrings?

Closing the door behind him, Apollyon brought his fillies in his physical embrace, pressing them up against his chest using his right arm and looking in their eyes as they looked into his, “Don’t do what I have just done, my daughters… “

The two fillies tilted their heads, a look of confusion in their eyes, “I implore you to not do what I have just done. You two must be better than me, not like me, but better… than me. I hope the both of you have your mother’s patience rather than… well… you know.”

Leaning back against the door, he left his staff leaning against the wall, using his now free left hand to give his daughters some scratchers behind the ears, chuckling as she saw very satisfied and relaxing expressions about their face, “As much as I wish to be as lenient as your mother, in times such as this, we can only lead our subjects through action, not words and rule through strength, not committee.”

“If it was done the other way around, well… I doubt I would be speaking to you two right now.” Sighing, Apollyon pushed off the door, standing up straight and grabbing his staff, “But alas, that is a story for another time, perhaps I shall tell you, one day, just… don’t fall asleep on me like you did last time.”

The response to that was Celestia stretching out her limbs, yawning and wrapping her wings around Lulu, pulling her closer and nuzzling her head. Of course, Lulu didn’t seem to mind, returning the nuzzle without a second thought..

Sighing, he squeezed them a little tighter before heading to the main hall quickly passing through the dining room.

Upon entering it, an aura of purple energy surrounded the bag he left at the front, levitating it to him and having it remain close by as he made his way through the main hall. Walking underneath the majesty of the chandeliers. Seeing the light of the sun quickly disappear through the stained glass.

“Die ac Nocte” He whispered.

(Day and Night)

Climbing the small set of stairs, he turned right and continued to walk down the hallway until the path led left, passing by several more arched windows that revealed the rising moon.

“In die et in nocte”

(In day and in night)

He intently listened to the soft snores that emitted from the fillies in his grasp, letting it mix with the sounds of his footsteps, the calm breeze outside and the chirping of crickets.

“Bellum furit, bellum dormit”

(The war rages, the war sleeps)

Coming up on a door that had a golden plate designating its use, Apollyon pushed it open, winching as the metal squealed as the door swung open. Thankfully, the fillies remained asleep, prompting Apollyon to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Vita captus, vitam dedit”

((Life (is) taken, life (is) given))

Upon entering the illuminated room, thanks to the chandelier that hung overhead and the lamp that sat on the bedside table. He was able to see everything this room had to offer. A king sized bed, a bedside table with a crystal powered lamp resting on top, to the side was a wooden baby cribs, big enough to for both of his fillies, a second door in the room that led to who knows where, and finally, several chests that sat at the end of the bed.

“Anima captus est, anima est datum”

(The soul is taken, the soul is given)

The bed theme matched those of the carpet that seemed to stretch all over the manor. Blood red with golden edges.

“In die et in nocte”

(In day and in night)

Squeezing his shoulder blades together, he floated his bag over to the chests, laying it on top of the chests to deal with in the morning.

“Regnum stipendia bello, regnum dormit”

(The kingdom wages war, the kingdom sleeps)

Next came his fillies, Apollyon raised them up to face, giving each of them a kiss on the forehead, making them form a smile on their faces as they slept peacefully.

“Ita est... et sic erit semper esse”

(So it is... and so it shall always be)

With all the care in the world, the sisters gently floated into the crib and onto the soft and cushioned bedding, they were then covered in the warm confines of the blankets laid for them.

Finally came Apollyon, a wave of exhaustion washed over him, his muscles aching and his head throbbing, feeling like he was going to succumb to sleep and enter the realm of dreams, without a second thought, he kicked off his boots and left his staff leaning against the corner of the bed frame. Hovering a hand over the lamp, dimming both it and chandelier, allowing darkness to consume the room.

Collapsing on the centre of the bed, staring up at the stone ceiling as he stretched out his limbs all over, frowning as the memories of today flooded his mind.

Groaning, he shifted onto his arm, feeling the cold air touch his exposed sweaty skin. As he tried to sleep, he could feel something wrong as he laid on the bed. Stretching out his arm to the otherside, he figured it out in an instant.

With a sigh, he shifted to face the other way, now staring at the crib his fillies slept in, their delicate snores echoing throughout the room. Music to his ears, his eyes slowly shut, before he too would succumb to sleep.

Perhaps he will join them.

Author's Note

Kept you waiting huh?

The latin text will be translated and explained in a different chapter and no I didn't yank it off the internet, I wrote it myself (Explains the shit quality lmao) But for now, comments and criticism please. :twilightsmile:

Chapter V - The Endless Desert I

Gasping awake, Appolyon shot up from his slumber, expecting to see the confines of his chambers, only to be let down as an endless desert stretched out before him.

Breathing heavily, he placed a trembling hand on his chest, focusing on slowing his breathing, collecting himself for panic would serve no purpose here.

Regulating his heartbeat, he slowly got up from the dry sands that stuck to his clothes. Upon standing up, he realised he was atop a sand dune. He could see far and wide as waves of sand blew in the cold and gentle wind.

Looking at its untamed skies, its colours wept blood and the stars themselves burned in multi-coloured flares. In the far distance, an eclipse could be seen, with only a portion of the sun shining upon this dark land.

Well this is… odd…

Letting out a depressing sigh, Apollyon looked near his feet, seeing his staff become tainted by the desert sand. Picking it up and dusting it off, he looked towards the ends of this barren wasteland.

Is this the Deserts of Kharak I see laid before me?

He thought, before turning around to scout for any points of interest that laid beyond.

Maybe if I wandered about for a bit, I would encounter an individual dressed in a red cloak and skating across the sands?

Sighing, he looked down at the hill he captured. Apollyon could only imagine a flag inscribed with the words ‘King of the Hill’, if that was so then surely someone would come across him… that was if anyone was actually here.

Or shall I remain here… and meditate until something interesting happens…

Pondering for a bit, looking at the skies, a dark blood red storm mixed with purple, constantly sparking streaks of red or purple energy inside itself.

Doesn’t look like it could get any worse

Apollyon sat down, crossing his legs, uncertain if the decision he made was the most wisest one. He laid the staff down beside him, the figurehead pointing towards the sky as he waited… and waited… and waited.

As time flew past like the sand in an hourglass, realization soon hit Apollyon that if he was going to be here, he might as well make the most out of this strange place. Reaching deeply into one of the many pockets his pants possessed, he immediately grasped something circular and metallic. Upon pulling the object out, he was met with a mechanical pocket watch; one that shined with a dark metallic shell, skeletal case, and was also connected by a matching chain. The chain carried a sigil at the end, a golden shape of a phoenix, one that was similar in design to the figurehead on his staff.

A smile slowly grew on Apollyon's face, but as soon as he popped open the skeletal case, his smile quickly faltered. The hands of the clock weren’t moving and the ticking sounds it created were nowhere to be heard.

Groaning, Apollyon brought a hand to his head, massaging his temples as he closed the case, rubbing his thumb over its gaps for a whole minute or two before sucking it up, and returning the mechanical device to its respective pocket.

Sitting up straight, rolling his shoulders, pushing out his chest before squeezing it together, Apollyon placed his hands on his knees with his palms facing the untamed skies. Shutting his eyes, the last image of the endless desert pictured in his mind, he started to breath; slowly inhaling through his nose and slowly exhaling through his mouth. He focused on the sounds of it, blocking out the noise of the calm wind and the gentle storms overhead.

As he meditated, particles of purple energy started to manifest around him, their bright ominous glow lit up Apollyon’s hill, becoming a beacon in this dark, barren land. Soon enough, all sources of noise went silent, replaced by the distant voices that echoed throughout his mind.

“Arise, children of the nation”

“For a great terror rises in the untamed lands of the north!”

“To arms, citizens of the Imperium”

“For these monsters wish to rob the innocents of their birthright!”

“Stand tall, subjects of the Empress”

“For we are the shining beacon in these dark times”

Apollyon looked away disturbingly, eyebrows narrowing and muscles tensing up as those voices ceased and another set took over.

“Will you help us?”

“Please help us…”

“The children, help the children!”

“Don’t leave us”

“Please don’t leave us…”

“Don’t say goodbye… I hate goodbyes…”

“...Hello?”

Apollyon gasped deeply, his eyes shot wide open, blurry vision and deafening hearing. Despite these temporary impairments to his senses, he could see a figure standing in front of him. This figure was small, childlike, it looked like it was holding something in its mouth. Then he heard an echoey voice, did this voice belong to it?

Apollyon’s hearing cleared up and his vision adjusted itself, and there, standing in front of him was a small earth pony filly, wearing a white sundress and a wide flexible straw hat. She had a soft light grey coat, her sapphire eyes gleamed like gems and her dark grey mane and tail blew gently in the wind.

Bewildered, Apollyon looked around briefly before returning his sights onto the small filly, “Uh, hello there, young one. What’s your name?”

The little filly didn’t respond, instead she sat on her haunches and pointed to the notepad in her mouth. Apollyon clenched his fist, looking around once more before slowly reaching out to take the notepad, once he got hold, the filly released it from the confines of her mouth and let him take it.

“‘Glimmering Hope,’” Apollyon read out, receiving rapid nods from the filly, and a cheerful applause by the filly, “Well, Glimmering Hope, I’m Apollyon, it’s uh, nice to meet you.”

The filly quickly snatched back the notepad, retrieving a pencil from the insides of her hat, placing the pencil in her mouth before inscribing her message onto the paper. Once she was done, she held her pencil in her hoof and presented the notepad to Apollyon.

‘It’s nice to meet you too mr hooman’

He chuckled at the misspelling of his species, he let it slide though. Apollyon handed back the notepad, giving the filly a look of concern, “Forgive me for my transgressions, Glimmering Hope, but are you mute?”

A sad expression washed over the filly as she disturbingly glanced to the side, nervously rubbing her leg with a hoof.

“It is alright if you are,” Apollyon assured.

With her head turned to the side, she shamefully nodded, a tear breaking out from her eyes.

Sighing disappointedly, he shook his head slowly, “Worry not young one, for I have a solution.”

Glimmering Hope tilted her head, intrigued by Appolyon’s offer.

“Just wait little one,” Apollyon smiled gently, holding out his hand, pulling the surrounding particles into his palm and massing them together in a shimmering aura that encompassed his hand, “Behold,” He declared, presenting the aura to the filly, “My solution.”

The filly gasped at the sight of the aura, stepping back before shrinking herself.

“Have no fear little one, this will allow you to easily communicate with me.” Apollyon reached out further, but this only made the filly jolt up and quickly step back, “What is wrong little one? Have you never seen ‘psykana’ before?”

The filly didn’t answer, but she didn’t have too. Her body was trembling, her tail pulled back between her legs, her pupils shrunk and her ears were flattened back against her head.

A lump grew in Apollyon’s throat at the sight of the fearful filly, looking to his hand and clenching it into a fist. The psykana was gone, dissipating into nothing.

“There,” He said gently, holding up his hands, flipping it over again and again, “No psykana.”

As he presented his hands, free of any sorts of psykana, Hope ceased her trembling, her ears returned to its default state as did her eyes. Still sticking low to the ground, she began to cautiously creep towards Apollyon, retrieving her pencil and reaching out with it.

Apollyon chuckled as the filly prodded his hand with the blunt end of her pencil, sticking her tongue out to the side in the process, “See, no psykana.”

After the filly’s pencil poking session, she backed away, a wave of much needed relief washed over her, but her body said otherwise; Her tail still remained hidden between her legs, and Apollyon could notice the slight trembling of her body.

Apollyon could only guess why she was so afraid, as much as he wanted to ask he did not think it would be wise, so he opted for another question to their current predicament, “Do you know what this place is?”

Hope shrugged nonchalantly, compelling Appolyon to look around the endless desert.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” Upon receiving a shaking head as an answer, Apollyon began to sigh heavily.

“Are you lost like me?” When she nodded, Apollyon continued, “Do you want to stick together?”

Unfortunately he did not receive a direct answer, instead Glimmering Hope’s gaze shifted to the side, subconsciously dragging her hoof in the ground, nervously drawing circles while Apollyon waited.

Although he did not receive an answer, with a groan he picked himself up, snapping Hope out of her own thoughts as Apollyon dusted the sand off his body, “Well, I’m gonna go that way” He said, pointing his staff in the direction of his choosing, “I do hope you follow”

The filly watched as Apollyon treaded carefully down the hill, concentrating on keeping his balance on the way down, “I’m going down the hill now,” He announced.

When he reached the bottom, he announced himself again, “I am now at the bottom of the hill,” Continuing walking, making it to the next hill, he halted his progress, looking back at the filly only to receive a gut wrenching feeling as she sadly waved at him.

“I am now climbing up the next hill!” He shouted, continuing his journey, silently cursing himself. Reaching the top, he looked back at the hill he started at, more importantly at the filly who kept waving at him everytime he looked back.

“I AM GOING TO GO DOWN THIS HILL!” He yelled out, pausing for a moment, “THIS HILL HERE, I AM GOING DOWN THIS HILL HERE!” Apollyon so generously pointed out… literally, pointing it out for he was pointing at the hill he was on.

Hope just continued waving.

Groaning, he continued on, bellowing out another sentence before he made his way down, “GEE, I HOPE NO ONE FOLLOWS ME, LIKE A CERTAIN FILLY NAMED GLIMMERING HOPE WHO KEEPS WAVING AT ME INSTEAD OF FOLLOWING ME!”

Once he was certain that the hill broke Hope’s line of sight of him, he laid down on the side of the hill.

Is this filly too smart or what?

After letting a minute or two pass, or at least what he felt like was a minute or two. He slowly rose up, peaking over his hill and into the distance. Much to his annoyance, he could see the filly continuing to wave at him.

Well that didn’t work…

Apollyon sighed, his gaze looking at the next hill.

Ok, just one more, if that doesn’t work then I’m walking back…

Apollyon rushed his descent once he stood up, quickly traversing the flat area and slowing down just as he arrived at the next hill. Climbing up the steep hill, using his staff to assist himself, when he neared the top, his eyes just allowing him to see over the hill, his sight was gifted with another hill and a… filly?

“What the?” He said aloud, attracting the attention of filly, who waved happily at his arrival, “Glimmering Hope?”

Hope nodded as she approached the human, taking a seat on her rear beside him. Apollyon kept glancing in the direction he went and the direction he came from. Most notably, he tracked his footsteps he left upon the sand, before they were washed away by the wind.

“Give me a second,” Apollyon said, embedding his staff into the sand before rushing headstrong to the next hill, climbing over several until he reached the one where he apparently encountered Hope again. Panting heavily upon reaching the top, he was met by a waving Glimmering Hope and his staff, that of which remained in place and looked unmolested.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked towards the filly again raising up a finger, “Give me a second,” He repeated, taking his staff in his hands and rushing into the depths of the desert once again.

Reaching the bottom of the second hill, he unchained the book from his staff, lightening the load before taking up a javelin throwing stance.

Come on PE class, don’t fail me now!

Yelling from his diaphragm and with all his might he threw his staff over the hill until it was out of sight. Feeling the intense burn as he ran up the not-so-solid hill, he arrived to see no staff, just a smiling Glimmering Hope.

“Did… you… see… the staff?” he questioned in between breaths, only to receive a shaking head as an answer, “But how? I… threw it up- ARGH!”

Apollyon was cut off as he was struck to the ground, face first, by a metallic object. Groaning in pain, he reached behind, placing a hand over the impact location.

Yep… gonna feel that later… wait... how does that even... oh nevermind...

Rolling onto his arching back, the sounds of someone walking on the sand drew closer. Soon a pony shaped shadow loomed over him, “So… I guess we’re stuck here?”

The filly shrugged, compelling Apollyon to chuckle, briefly coughing after, “Well,” He said, clearing his throat, “Don’t mind me, just gonna lay down here and stare at the skies… forever.”

The filly began writing into her notepad, quickly presenting it to Apollyon.

‘Can I lay down next to you?’

“Sure… just don’t tell my daughters… one of them might just send you to the moon.” He laughed awkwardly.

The filly ignored his lame joke, instead she let out an over exaggerated yawn before stretching out her limbs. Softly laying on the sand beside Apollyon, she planted her head on his arm, nuzzling it before closing her eyes and peacefully drifting off to sleep.

As the filly slept, Apollyon listened to her delicate snores as he stared up into the crimson skies. Letting it’s dark storms become the last image in his mind before shutting his eyes.

Die ac Nocte…

Author's Note

So... what'd you think? Comments, theories and criticism is always appreciated :twilightsmile:

Chapter VI - Laying the Foundation

Apollyon slept soundly, a warm smile on his face and not a worry in sight, but as much as one would like to have that remain, it would not be that way.

His warm smile quickly faded away, allowing a frown to take over. He looked away, tossing and turning, panting heavily and constantly repeating somewhat familiar phrases in between breaths.

“...Help them... we have to…”

“...Won’t… leave you…”

“We… leave them…”

“The children… have to… help...”

One could only wonder what… disturbing dreams he was having to say such things.

The dreams seemed to have lightened their assault on his mind, for he rolled onto his back and ceased repeating such worrying sentences.

Groaning, Apollyon’s eyes slowly cracked open, breaking the crust that had rested there. Even with the blurred vision impairing his sight, he knew in an instant that something was wrong.

Eyes widened, he jolted up, fists clenched and arms at-the-ready. Eyes adjusting from his awakening, he realised he was back in his chambers.

The crimson skies he once burned within his mind was replaced by a stone ceiling. The endless desert was replaced with a confined stone room, and the darkness was burned away by the crystal lamps that dimly glowed.

Taking a deep breath, steadying his heart and calming his mind. He leaned back, keeping himself prompt up with the help of his elbow, before falling back onto the soft surface of his bed.

Glancing to the right, a wave of relief washed over him as he listened to the lullaby of his daughter’s delicate snoring.

Apollyon rubbed his eyes with a free hand as he lingered in his own world.

Was that just a dream?

Looking down at his left arm, clenching his fist and tensing up his muscles, feeling some weight on his forearm.

I can still feel… her head resting on my arm… Who was that filly…

His gaze then shifted to his staff, observing particles of psykana emit from the phoenix and the book.

That place… Do you hold knowledge of such a location?

For a moment, the psykana from the book surged, briefly lighting up the room before dying down.

Sighing depressingly, Apollyon sat up massaging his temples with a hand.

Pulling out his pocket watch, popping open the skeletal case to check the time. The mechanical ticking it emitted was music to his ears and the moving hands were a welcome sight.

“Five-thirty? Well, lucky me.” He sarcastically remarked, shutting the skeletal case and returning his watch to its respective pocket.

Swinging his legs off of the bed, feeling his feet make contact with the stone floor as he sat on the edge. Apollyon took a deep breath through his nose, placing his hands on his knees and squeezing them with all his deprived might.

Glancing to the lamp beside him, he quickly waved a hand in front of it, allowing light to slightly increase its domain over the room.

With the darkness burning away, Apollyon pushed himself off the bed, standing tall and reaching for the ceiling; stretching every part of his body, feeling the satisfying pop of his joints and the sweet release of tension in his muscles.

Satisfied with loose muscles and popped joints, he made his way over to his daughter's crib of peace. A warm smile formed on his face as he looked inside.

Celly, being the eldest, has seemed to have embraced her older sister instincts; wrapping her wings around Lulu and resting her head on her body, giving Lulu a nuzzle every now and then.

Oh, how I wished you could see this…

Reaching in to give them each a loving scratch behind the ears, he stopped himself halfway, using his other hand to pull it back.

Nope, let them sleep, they’ll need it.

Sighing happily at the image forever imprinted on his mind, he turned to the small pile of chests at the bottom of the bed. Getting a firm hold of his staff, briefly lifting it up in the air and tapping it onto the ground, the four large chests were each enveloped in an aura of psykana and then relocated to the side of the room, while his bag was tossed onto the bed.

That’s better. Now, let’s see here… Formal wear… Work wear… Luxuries… Baby stuff…

Knowing what was planned for the long day ahead, he opened up the chest filled with work wear. Inside were clothes that would make the eyes of a fashion designer burn. Plain looking tops that solely existed in the form of black, simple yet reliable work pants that come in a variety of plain, dull looking colours.

At least you’re not here to see this, I’ll never hear the end of it from you if you ever did.

However, a series of long drawn out yawns made Apollyon freeze up, along with the sounds of someone shifting about on their bed and some cute stretching sounds. He tensed up, tightening his hold of his staff and winching as he awaited for a pair of little anklebiters to awaken.

After a moment or two passed and his ears weren't bleeding from the sounds of crying, a huge wave of relief washed over him, for what little freedom he had left was left to himself… at least until they woke from their slumber.

Rolling his shoulders, attempting to make his shoulder blades make contact with each other, he retrieved a towel and a fresh set of clothes - that were arguably the same as the ones he was wearing - before setting his sights to the door that would surely lead to an adjacent room.

Upon pushing the door open, Apollyon was met with a decently large room, a chandelier hung from the ceiling, there a large brass tub that was built into the corner of the room with a stone exterior, and there were benches sitting on the sides of the room.

By the Gods, I really need to get a servant as soon as possible.

Looking to the nearby bench, there was a rectangular wooden display case. Contained within the confines of the case were several large magically imbued crystals, giving off a fiery orange glow.

An aura of psykana enveloped the case, floating over before his eyes of Apollyon, giving him a chance to examine such strange objects.

Inside was a note, one addressed to him. Upon opening the case and retrieving said note, he rolled his eyes as he read the contents.

“Dear Apollyon,

Please utilise the utmost of caution when handling these rare crystals, they’re very expensive and rare to come across, and unless you plan on retrieving them from the Dragon Isles then please use them sparingly, and for the love of Anima…

DO NOT LEAVE THEM OUT OF THE DISPLAY CASE FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME!

Your friend, Harpstrings

P.S. If you break or lose one of them, I’m going to shove my horn so far up your-“

“Yeah sure, whatever you say mum…” Apollyon retorted, folding the note and returning it to its respective place. Apollyon hungrily eyed the magical crystals inside, they gave off an aura of such power and promise; that it would manipulate the weak and tempt the strong willed into hoarding it.

Enveloping one of the crystals in his aura, he retrieved one before closing the case and setting them to the side with his set of fresh clothes. Looking inside the tub, grateful that it was already filled with water, he dropped the crystal in and in an instant the effects began to take place. The calm, undisturbed water began to bubble as the water temperature of the water quickly escalated.

Apollyon could feel the immense heat come from the tub, already imagining the satisfaction and relief it would bring to his body. Just simply washing off all the dirt, mud and sweat that stuck to his body would be tempting enough to just hop in with the crystal inside but alas he must wait.

Once the temperature of the water reached a suitable level, he extracted the crystal from the tub and returned it to its respective spot in the display case. Setting his staff to the side, he started to remove his filthy clothes before shutting the bathroom door.

When the door opened, a wave of steam exited the room along with a human, now cleansed from the filth that stuck to his body and ready to tackle the long and gruelling day ahead of him. Throwing on his boots that were covered in dry mud and dirt, he checked on his daughters, taking care in his steps as to not awake them from their peaceful slumber.

As expected, they continued to sleep, although this time; Celly’s head was flat on the bed while Lulu buried her entire face in the white alicorn’s neck. Smiling at the scene, Apollyon retrieved a pair of blankets from one of the chests, one midnight blue and one pure white before attempting to seperate them from each other.

But alas he failed, the moment Lulu felt that absence of warmth, her legs immediately reached out, seeking somepony for her to cuddle with. This, along with some whimpering from the filly, compelled Apollyon to stop and reconsider his actions.

Sighing, he watched as Lulu wrap her legs and wings around Celly, making his task ever more difficult.

Well that didn’t go according to plan.

After a minute or two of clearly thought out strategic and tactical know-how in its purest form, Apollyon carefully lifted them up simultaneously with an aura of psykana, swiftly sliding their blankets underneath them before letting them down.

A drop of sweat fell from his head, but his work was not done yet. Carefully, he began the will-challenging process of wrapping them together, slowly enveloping them in the warm confines of their blankets; one that was only matched by the warm embrace of a loving mother.

Hoping Lulu would be satisfied with no longer dealing with the absence of her sister, he enveloped them in his aura, before heading out the door and into the artificially lit hallway. Outside the windows, the surrounding land was filled with darkness, the sun had yet to rise and grace the land with its life giving rays, but thankfully that would soon change.

Sunlight, in its purest form began to emerge from over the horizon. Even from behind the windows, Apollyon could see the local fauna rally to the call of the sun, assembling together in its light. Endless hordes of rabbits, birds and squirrels emerged from the nearby forests and basked in the rays of the sun. Unfortunately for them, the hunters responded to the call of the sun as well. Three grey wolves emerged from the treelines, snarling, slobbering at the game laid before their hungering eyes.

At first sight of the wolves, every single prey ran off while the wolves took chase. Though as the three began to charge, the rest of the pack followed their lead for a wave of grey fur rushed out of forests and into the plain fields.

“Such is the way of life… cruel and unjust…”

Apollyon watched as the wolves chased their prey down, easily taking down the ones that were close or that panicked and ran into each other.

“One moment you're standing on your two legs, filled with nothing but hope and happiness, then the next…”

Once their prey got caught in the jaws of death, they felt only a moment of life before being torn apart by other members of the pack.

“...You’re on your knees, beaten and broken…”

Apollyon watched for a moment as the wolves hunted down their prey before letting rip a yawn. Apollyon soon lost interest in the one-sided conflict, spinning on his heels, walking off into the direction of the main hall, the sounds of his boots muffled by the red carpet and his ears catching wind of a series of ear splitting howls.

But as he walked, he floated Celly and Lulu in front of him, they remained in their slumber, unaware of the… ‘event’ that just occurred outside. A warm smile formed on Apollyon’s face and a tear threatened to break from his eyes.

“But, as harsh and cruel life may be, there is still beauty in it…”

Apollyon gave them a little scratch behind their ears, prompting them to flicker at his touch and subconsciously lean into his hand, a growing smile on their face.

“Would you want to take a guess of who taught me that, my dearest daughters of mine?”

Of course, he didn’t get much of a response, but to be honest he didn’t expect one. He could only chuckle as they nuzzled his hand, humming a sweet tune as they did.

As Apollyon reached the intersection of the main hall, he turned, passing by and ignoring the beautiful stained glass image of the alicorn but as he touched the bottom of the stairs, he slowed down before eventually coming to a halt.

As he stood there, as stiff and still as a statue, letting the ticking of his pocket watch echo throughout the silent room. He gripped his staff tighter before closing his eyes and gritting his teeth. After a couple of seconds passed, he pushed on, doing his best to ignore the divine images in the hall as they shone ever more with the glory of the sun behind them.

Making his way to the pile of chests near the entrance of the hall, his head low, only watching the movement of his feet and his daughters in their peaceful slumber. Upon reaching the chests, they were all lifted off the ground and into the air with his mental hold. Splitting them up and making way for himself to walk through unhindered with the chests following right behind.

The moment Apollyon stepped out into the front yard of the manor, he was immediately hit with the chilling air, forcing goosebumps to take form on his skin. The man took a deep breath, the cold air he inhaled was then let out in the form of mist; turning the man into a cloud-breathing dragon for the moment.

Apollyon's attention was pulled elsewhere as he heard a series of soft yawning, looking down to the source, he noticed that Celly and Lulu were stretching their limbs, however a little hindered by the blankets they were confined in. Thankfully, they hadn’t seemed to have noticed the sudden drop in temperature, their warm smiles were undisturbed and eyes remained still and shut.

“No time like the present.” Apollyon muttered, shivering slightly as he made his way to the edges of the Everfree.

Rays of sunlight shone upon the dense forests and lush land in the front yard, Apollon basked in the sun the moment he stood in its light, his skin warming up in its presence. As he basked in the sun, the sounds of movement and disturbance in the grass compelled him to open his eyes. He tensed up his muscles as the noise drew closer.

Apollyon held his staff up high and kept it there until the threat was close enough, however, just as when he was going to harshly embed it into the ground, he froze. Instead, letting the staff down slowly and turning about to face the… ‘individual’.

“Apollyon,” Apis yawned, a shiver travelling down his spine as he noticed the expression of anger about the human’s face, “I-I think we have a problem.”

“Would it happen to be about the soon-to-be-slaughtered bull in front of me?” Apollyon quizzed, making no attempt to hide the irritation in his voice.

“Bleh… That’s disgusting.” He stated, letting his tongue hang out, “Why would it be about that?”

“Approaching someone unannounced in an isolated area is one way to ensure yourself an express ticket to the afterlife, especially one with precious cargo.” Apollyon harshly said, turning about, ignoring the fear on the bull’s face before continuing his journey, “Now, what do you want Apis?”

Apis quickly ran up beside him, “W-well, did you hear the howling?”

“Yes,” Apollyon said, no signs of worry or concern in either his voice or on his face, “The local wolf pack have scored themselves quite the bounty, although numerous and small it would’ve been better than nothing.”

“And this doesn’t have you worried in the slightest?”

“No.”

“Why not? Are wolves dangerous to Humans?”

“By the Gods…” Apollyon sighed, “Yes, they are, but not on the scale as they would be to the other sapient species on Equus.”

“The… world?”

Facepalming, Apollyon groaned into his hand, muffled by it for the next few seconds. Once he was done, his hand fell to his side before his gaze fell upon the bull, “Sure, the world, named after one sole species and the four races - five if you include alicorns”

“So… I’m guessing the world isn’t called Equus”

“Nope, never was and never will be, as long as Humanity has their say.”

“Huh, so… why is the name official in the Empire? And why hasn’t humanity done anything about it yet?”

“Listen,” Apollyon groaned, “As much as I want to enlighten the minds of the inferior, we need to get started on what aragiable land we have”--Apollyon gestured to the land around them--”So, could you please get the others and Clarabelle, if you wouldn’t mind?”

After a moment of intense glaring at the human, Apis conceded, “Fine…” He muttered, “But those wolves are still a problem.”

“Relax, as long as I’m here the wolves will be no threat to us.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Now reaching the edge of the Everfree, Apollyon carefully set the chests down carefully and looked to the bull, “Trust me.” The man reassured, raising his staff a bit before embedding it into the ground.

“The reputation your species carries makes it impossible to trust you and you’re not making it easier,” Apis stated as fact, “But… I just have to put my faith in you.”

“Heh, see, if you only listened to Harpstrings more, then maybe yesterday could’ve been far smoother.”

“Wait how did-”

“But of course, everything in the past could’ve gone a lot smoother if people just listened to us.”

“Wait-”

“But then again, who would you rather listen to? A member of your own species or another of unknown origin but is clearly superior?”

“Hmm, I’m guessing the answer would vary depending on the… cattle?” Apis received a nod, “Well, without knowing anything about them, I would listen to my own.”

“As would we Apis,” Apollyon smirked, giving the bull some much needed relief, “As would we.”

Tapping the staff on the ground, several of the chests opened, revealing all sorts of materials and tools required for a functioning community. The males walked over to the chests, each retrieving items that would assist them in their goals.

With a free hand, Apollyon pulled out an axe, getting a feel of its weight before examining the tool. The axe was clearly made by a fine blacksmith; the cutting-edge seemed to have been freshly stoned, the metal used for the head was of fine quality and the handle and grip have shown no signs of use and the smooth texture of the wood felt amazing to Apollyon’s skin.

Sanded down smoothly and stoned to a sharp edge… Harpstrings does sure know where to get the finest tools…

While Apollyon was admiring the fine craftsmanship of the axe, Apis retrieved a plow specially designed for quadrupeds to pull. The plow, much like the axe in Apollyon’s grasp, was crafted at the same quality; the wooden collar was shaped with care, the shared part of the moldboard could cut through soil with ease and the rope connecting the moldboard and the collar was long and durable.

“Those blades will cut through soil with ease.” Apollyon remarked, getting the attention of Apis, “For us it wouldn’t make much of a difference but for the earth ponies peasants it would be the difference between day and night.”

“Earth ponies grow better crops?” Apis guessed

“Naturally, while humans…” Apollyon hesitated to finish his sentence, prompting Apis to raise an eyebrow “Eh, nevermind.”

“While humans what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Human thing?”

“Heh,” Apollyon chuckled, “Yeah, a human thing.”

“Right…” The bull said skeptically, giving the man a suspicious look, “Listen, I don’t know how any-creature is going to find this place, we’re on the other side of the Everfree. You know; the most unnatural place known to life?”

Apollyon gave him a deadpan expression before shaking his head, disappointment in his eyes.

“D-did I say something wrong?”

“Yes. And don’t worry about whether other creatures find this place or not, because they will, and when they do I’m gonna make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

“Which is?”

With the axe in one hand and the staff in the other, Apollyon turned to make his way to the nearby trees, looking over his shoulder, “Vita sine tormentum” ((A) Life without torment) He said, taking his leave with his daughters still in his mental hold.

Apis watched as Apollyon left for a nearby set of trees, bewildered by the unknown tongue that Apollyon spoke. After a moment or two, Apis turned about, heading in the direction of where he laid rest yesterday, with only a single thought lingering about his head.

The heck did he just say?

When Apis returned with some of the females of his herd, he lent them a hoof, assisting them with putting on the collar before Apollyon ordered them to work on a nearby field. Naturally, most of them glared at the human but Apis pressed them to keep working, before he too joined them.

Not long after their arrival came Clarabelle, bags under her eyes and dragging her legs along the ground quite sluggishly. She first approached Apis, asking if they required anymore help, but the bull quickly dismissed her and directed her over to the human, who was hacking at some nearby trees with an axe in both hands.

“Is there something I can help you with… Apollyon?” She asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

The human had yet to reply, continuing to hack at the trees, his body was sweating profusely and the man was panting heavily. Just as he was about to take another swing at the tree, he missed his target as the moment the sounds of crying filled his ears, instead he hit just above the area he was cutting.

Cursing under his breath as he pulled out the axe from the tree, Apollyon looked to his fillies who appeared to be crying out for someone to comfort them. At first he shook his head, rather annoyed but soon it was replaced with laughter before he started to make his way to his fillies, walking past the seemingly forgotten Clarabelle, who remained motionless, but was staring daggers into the man.

Smiling happily, he picked up his staff that was laid beside them before enveloping them in his aura, lifting them up to his smiling face, “Celly, Lulu, please open your eyes.” He requested gently.

Yet, with their eyes remaining closed, they cried with a fine set of lungs, “Celly, Lulu, please open your eyes, father is here for you.”

Clarabelle, feeling that she wasn’t needed began to head back to Apis, but stopped as the sounds of crying lessened and grew softer. She glanced back at the trio, to see that the sister’s eyes were open, revealing their gleaming orbs that reflected Apollyon’s own. Soon, their cries were replaced with some soft giggling then some happily babbling as they both reached out for his face.

Taking a guess at what they wanted, Apollyon leaned forward to the fillies, satiating their curiosity as their hooves got hold of his face. The sisters laughed and giggled, either squishing or rubbing Apollyon cheeks while playing with his cobalt/golden aura enveloped hair.

Unfortunately for Apollyon, Lulu got a bit too curious, caught in the glow of his eyes, she removed her hooves from his cheeks and went for his exposed eye, “Argh!” He exclaimed, recoiling back and shielding his eye with a free hand.

A chill ran down Clarabelle’s spine as the man recoiled back, she kept glancing between the laughing sisters and the one-eyed man. An endless amount of thoughts raced through her mind, concern for the children as the human recovered. Tensing up, nostrils flaring, she lowered herself close to the ground, digging up the dirt with her hooves.

“Lulu…” Apollyon said, inspecting his hand with one eye, “That wasn’t very nice, you should know better than doing that.”

Clarabelle hesitated the moment he heard his voice, one that had control.

The Lulu giggled softly, babbling happily straight afterwards, “No, it wasn’t funny. Just do what your sister does, the eyes are off-limits.”

Upon hearing some soft regretful babbling, Apollyon nodded before looking at Clarabelle, raising an eyebrow at her current stance, “You might want to reconsider your actions cow” He declared boldly, “Have you said goodbye to the rest of your family? Made peace with your enemies?”

Her eyes widened as she relinquished her stance, although she remained tensed up, “I… thought-”

“Consider your next words carefully, you want to sleep well tonight… don’t you?”

Slowing nodding, she looked to the side, a dispirited look about her face.

Apollyon smirked at the scene, taking her silence as an official answer, “Good, you can tend to them now. I still have work to do” He finished. Hearing his fillies stomachs grumble, he set the content fillies on the ground softly, before returning to the treeline, allowing Clarabelle to nurse the sisters.

Apis could only watch from a distance as the situation unfolded, glancing between the human and the cow, letting out a downcast sigh before returning to the field.

The sun was shining high in the sky while clouds blew past within their respective boundaries of the Everfree. Time flew by fast as everyone did their part, working hard and working together, tagging out with the others in reserve if they needed a break, but soon enough, the hard labour would take a physical toll on their bodies.

Upon seeing the decrease in productivity and hearing the requests to take a break, Apis cautiously approached the human, who was about to start hacking at a fresh tree, “Apollyon…” Apis called out, clearing his throat, drawing the attention of the man, ”W-we’ve been working hard-”

“Granted.” Apollyon interjected, dropping the axe to the floor before heading to a fallen tree that his staff was leaning on, passing by a perplexed bull who had his mouth left ajared.

“Wait, how’d you know what I was going to say?”

As the human took a seat, he shot Apis a deadpan look, “Apis… grab me an apple will you?” He asked, pointing to one of the opened chests filled with produce.

“But-”

“Just grab the apple bull.”

“F-fine.” Apis groaned, ignoring the chuckling human as he made his way to the chests filled with produce.

As the bull departed, Apollyon unchained the book from his staff, disregarding the ominous glowing as he began reading.

The front yard was filled with noise the moment Apis informed the females to take a break. Idle chatter, laughter and condemning were just some of the many things up in the air.

When Apis returned with some fruit, Apollyon dismissed him, telling him to join the others. The bull hesitantly agreed, glaring at the human suspiciously before walking over to Clarabelle.

Flipping over a page, taking a bite of an apple, Apollyon’s hearing deafened as the book briefly flashed before his eyes.

The sounds of chatter ceased.

“...Hello?”

Apollyon discontinued his chewing, feeling a shiver run down his spine.

“It’s nice to meet you too mr hooman.”

The human shot up, dropping his book and apple, turning around and quickly scanning the forest. As he did this, he was struck by an immense headache, compelling him to place his hands on his head. Groaning in pain, he scanned the dense forest again as his vision began to blur.

And that’s when he saw someone familiar.

The same grey filly from before, though this time she did not have her white sundress and flexible straw hat, “Hope?” He questioned, receiving a passive wave with a dispirited look on her face.

The moment he opened his mouth to say something, the filly turned tail and ran deeper into the forest.

“NO WAIT!” He shouted. Acting quickly before the filly got too far, he chained his book back to the staff before picking it up, raising above his head and embedding it into the ground. Taking off, vaulting over the fallen tree, ignoring Apis’ calls as he ran deeper into the dense woods.

Author's Note

The end scene seem familiar to anyone?

Anyway, comments, theories, criticism are highly appreciated and dare I say encouraged?

Chapter VII - To See Beyond

Within the confines of the Everfree, where danger lurks about every corner and the concept of hope is nothing but a myth, two individuals rushed through their forests as if they had a manticore on their tail.

“Hope! Wait up!” Apolloyn shouted, chasing down Hope with a determined look and a steadfast heart.

The filly ignored Apollyon as she continued running, kicking up mud and bits and pieces of soaked vegetation that stuck to her coat, while they only stuck to the human’s boots.

“Hope! Where are you going?!” Apollyon once again shouted, breathing heavily as he felt the intense burn in his legs. He watched as Hope weaved between trees, constantly breaking Apollyon’s line of sight and risking him losing her.

Not willing to gamble, Apollyon attempted to make that tight turn but whether it was bad luck or pure tactical thinking on Hope’s part, the moment Apollyon attempted to turn, his boots lost the very concept of traction leading him to crash, left arm first into a barricade of trees. Groaning in pain, Apollyon stood up from his knees before pursuing although at a jogging pace.

But even though his recovery was swift, he still ended up losing sight of the filly. Apollyon came to a halt taking this time to inspect his arm. Attempting to move it, he felt the shocks of electric signals rush to his brain, compelling him to stop. Keeping his arm close to his torso, he began to scan the endless labyrinth of the Everfree for any signs of irregular movement.

“Dammit.” He cursed under his breath, taking a knee on the wet grass and taking a moment to catch his breath before taking a look at his surroundings, hearing the distant sounds of the mighty cries of birds of prey, the quaking roars of large alpha predators and the warning howls of wolves.

Scanning the area, he couldn’t help but pity himself. Wet and rough uneven terrain, closely compact trees with obscuring thick vines that hung from them like decorative ornaments, these things alone would be detrimental to his own health in a pursuit.

Slowly shifting his gaze to his palm, opening and closing his hand, feeling an odd yet familiar sensation encompassing his digits. He held his palm up to his face, noticing small insignificant particles of psykana roaming near his hand.

Clenching his fists, his gaze turned to the endless paths that surrounded him. Seeing no conventional way to search the endless Everfree, he fell back on his rear, crossing his legs and placing his hands on his knees.

As he sat down, eyes closed, all sources of sounds blocked out with the exception of the pounding of his own beating heart. Around him, particles of psykana began to slowly manifest, and after a moment of haunting silence Apollyon was able to feel several familiar entities.

Many were behind him, though they were just on the edge of the Everfree. They were physically strong yet mentally frail and inept with the exception of three. He could feel their emotions, most of them were negative; envy, hatred, anger, there were several more but it was too weak to figure out what it was.

There were two amongst the group that stood out from the rest however. Powerful… gifted… their presence alone could cloak the others in their shadow. Their emotions spoke to him, worried, unhappy, and deep inside they were longing and aching for a warm familiar presence.

Feeling an odd sensation break out from his eye before rolling down his cheek, his mind darkened when he quickly wiped it off with his arm, regaining his sight upon returning to his meditative stance.

The only other sole entity Apollyon could feel was deep within the Everfree, heading straight from his current position. Weak… scared… anxious, this must be who he was looking for. Tensing up, gripping his knees tightly, he began to concentrate on this sole entity. After a moment of intense concentration, he began to visualize an image within his mind.

There was a large cave that laid nearby, a natural void within the ground.

Picturing a direct route; it was dense, harsh and rough, when he began to picture another with an ease of travel, it would take far too long for him to navigate it. Thus he was left with a path that was to test his endurance and resolve.

Though as much as he wanted to investigate further; to push his sight beyond. He was struck with a pounding headache and was forced out of his mind and ended up returning to reality.

Bringing a hand to his head, seething through his teeth as he massaged his temples. His clear perception of the dark forest became naught, reducing to blurred vision. The once distinct sounds of his surroundings became obscured, for their cries, screams and roars echoed distantly in his head.

Keeping calm, letting himself recover as well as avoiding the need to move his head, he felt something start to run down his nose. Feeling the liquid with his fingers before looking down at his hand. Crimson liquid in its purest form, something he could recognize from anywhere. Wiping it off his face with the sleeve of his shirt as it touched the upper part of his lips, he slowly got back on his feet, using a nearby tree to support himself.

Feeling a bit woozy as he rose, he leaned his whole body against the dark tree, taking the moment to gather his strength before relinquishing the tree's most appreciated efforts in helping him stand. Wisps and particles of psykana remained closeby, happily dancing to the cries of the bird that resided in the forest, bouncing around the man’s head.

Pushing off the tree, keeping his left arm tight to his body, he looked in the direction of the route that leads to the sinkhole and the cave within it, and if fate would favour him, he would find Hope. Though his resolve was still to be tested; for a direct path to the cave was not an easy one.

I better get going soon, it's not wise to linger here…

Laid on the path straight ahead; was everything that would hinder his journey, wet terrain that would spell out his doom if he was not careful, thick vegetation that obscured his path that would leave most to second guess their routes, large fallen trees that would hinder the pursuit of anyone unless you could squeeze under it and towering tightly packed trees that hunters could use as a natural shield.

“Out of all the places you could’ve built this sanctuary… you just had to build it here…”

As he looked deep into that dark unforgiving path, he held out his right hand, taking several deep breaths as he began to channel psykana from his body. The tension in his arm was building up, tightening as particles of psykana started to congregate, creating a single entity at the palm of his hand.

Once the process was complete, what laid in his hand was a sight to behold; A large entity that had a hauntingly alluring ball-like form with no face of any sort.

“Hello there, Regana Lux,” He greeted with a welcoming smile.

The entity - upon hearing his voice - seemed to stir awake, the energy of her form began to spark as she slowly began to move. When her non-existent eyes laid upon the man, she sprung awake, jolting from Apollyon’s palm and into the air, briefly leaving a faint trail of shimmering psykana and letting out a melodic whistle that was almost musical in nature, closely resembling the harmonic calls of the whales that roam the seas.

“Welcome to this chaotic mess of a world,” He said, his arm dropping to the side, “I require your assistance with the search of a young filly.”

Regana seemed to show great interest in his request; glowing brightly, whistling a happy tune as she shook her form up and down.

“You already know the filly’s presence, I implore you to guide me through this deathtrap of a forest.”

Nodding once more, Regana made some distance between the man and herself. Once she was satisfied with the distance she had created, she started to shake violently, glowing ever brighter and compelling Apollyon to arch an eyebrow at its actions.

After a brief miniscule flash of light, the once singular psykanic entity was surrounded by several other smaller entities sharing a similar form. Though the original has appeared to have shrunk in size.

The ever curious entities wandered to the nearby trees, emitting a tune just like Regana , examining the trees as they lingered about before moving onto other pieces of nature. But for those that exhausted their curisority, they floated over to Apollyon’s bipedal form, dancing around him.

“Parum Lumen, assist me in this time of need.” He pleaded.

The break-off entities froze, looking up into the man’s glowing eyes, “Be the light that draws away the attention of the children of Tenebrae, the wild, the untamed, the mindless. Be the circle of protection that deters these threats.”

Glowing brightly, the break-off entities immediately split up, heading in several directions and forming a makeshift circle around the man.

As he looked at the accursed path ahead of him, as Regana floated near his eyes, catching his attention, “Lead the way Regana. ” He requested.

Regana emitted a happy tune, glowing brighter as she performed a flip, turning about before taking point in the wretched forest. Followed closely behind by Apollyon, as well the other break-off entities, all the while keeping in their hastily created formation.

The journey to the cave was short, but harsh, just barely tolerable with the help of Regana.

Although every obstacle laid before Apollyon tested the endurance of his muscles, causing them to ache as he pushed himself further and further. Sweating profusely and breathing heavily as he trudged through deep mud, pushing away large, obscuring leaves to the side, ducking under snake-like vines and climbing over the bones of dead fallen trees. All the while the entities phased through everything unhindered.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Apollyon to arrive at his destination. Regana - being the guiding light in this sun depraved forest - was able to quickly lead Apollyon to the location of the familiar presence.

Reaching a small clearing that bordered the cave, of course, after he pushed the final layers of thick leaves and broke off club sized branches, “Finally!” He said, taking a knee before the void-gate before him, a wave of relief washing over him as the sunlight graced his body with its welcoming presence.

Looking up from the ground, Apollyon stared deep into the void, taking note of its rocky frame with vines stretching down halfway to the ground.

Picking up a broken branch as he stood tall, he cautiously took a few steps forward, keeping an ear out for any sources of noise coming from inside the void. He listened intently for any types of sounds, voices, hoofsteps, crying, he listened for them all.

But nothing… it was as quiet as a desolate battlefield, devoid of life.

Regana moved beside Apollyon, noticing his endless staring and the shaking of his hands, “Something.... isn’t right…” He whispered, slightly trembling at the presence of the void, “There’s something… off about this cave…”

The Guiding light elevated herself, getting up to eye-level with the man, shaking her formless body side to side whilst emitting a low tune, slowly dimming the glow of her body.

“You feel it too… don’t you?” Apollyon questioned, looking at the darkening ball who let out an anxious tune, “No, I can’t leave the filly alone in this place… it's just too dangerous” He finished, shifting his gaze back to the void.

Regana maneuvered around, getting up close to the man’s face. She whistled out a curious tune, glancing between Apollyon and the cave.

“No, wait here with the others.” Apollyon ordered, glancing back towards the scattered lights on the borders of the Everfree, “This filly fears psykana, I don’t know why, but perhaps I can take a guess. Just wait here, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Oh and before you go”--Apollyon held up an arm of a tree--”Be a dear and light this would you?”

Regana complied, emitting a happy tune and brightening up as she approached the top of the branch. She started to shake violently, releasing some miniature sparks here and there before discharging a small flame butterfly; one of unnatural properties for its form burned a ghastly purple and its colour only grew darker towards its centre.

The discharged butterfly fluttered towards the branch, flapping its burning purple wings as it landed on the branch. Smoke began to emit by sheer contact of the entity, quickly sparking a warm, controlled dark purple flame on the top of his torch.

“Thank you.” He smiled, compelling Regana to glow brighter for a brief second, taking in those words with gratitude before joining his brethren. Once Regana had returned to the group, floating around in their endless patrol routes of the void-gate, Apollyon looked to the cave, taking a deep breath, tensing up his body before heading in.

Stepping into the dark void, his footsteps echoing as they crushed the miniscule rocks beneath their weight. His torch burned away the darkness more effectively as he went deeper and deeper, walking further away from the light.

Passing by ferns and mosses, marking the end of the Entrance Zone and the start of the Twilight Zone, a numbing chill washed over his exposed skin, forming goosebumps as he became a cloud-breathing dragon.

Seething through his teeth, looking deeper into the endless void and glancing back towards the entrance, it’s shining light no longer able to reach him.

“Hope?” He called out, his voice echoing as it traveled throughout, “Are you in here?”

Taking a few cautious strides forward, his eyes remained glued to the stone floor, “It’s me, Apollyon. The human from that endless dessert?”

Apollyon stayed silent, halting his movement and listening for anything within the cave.

Nothing.

Nothing but the sounds of the crackling of the burning torch in his hand.

“I know you can’t talk, but If you’re in here, I urge you to please make some sort of noise; A grunt or tapping on the ground with your hoof, anything!”

Again nothing.

Taking a few breaths, Apollyon continued to travel deeper, looking all over the dark cave, noting the passing of fungi as he reached a fork in the road.

“Dammit…” he cursed, looking down both paths before staring into the heart of the flaming torch, feeling a cold sense of dread loom over him.

“Hope…” He said, his body stiff and still, his eyes staring endlessly into the darkness, “Please make some sort of noise, I can’t leave you here.”

For the third time, nothing.

Nothing but the horrid silence that drew his concern even more.

But as the silence drew on, that sinking feeling grew stronger. His hands began to tremble, his beating heart started to pick up the pace and he soon felt a sudden weakness at the knees.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, the uneasy man took a slow step back, only to stop halfway as the sounds of faint crying echoed throughout the cave.

Immediately a sense of urgency washed over Apollyon, he relinquished the backwards step he took, tensing up as he intently listened for those cries. When he heard nothing, when he heard nothing but uneasy silence that tested his nerve, he shut his eyes, blinding himself as he searched for her presence.

Though as quickly as he removed himself from reality, he soon found himself being forced back into it. Feeling a crippling headache combined with the assault of a deafening ring push him back out. The man screamed in pain, the noise compelled him to drop his only source of light before placing his hands to the sides of his head, putting the squeeze on as he fell to his knees.

“Please, help me…” Came the cry of a filly-like voice.

Apollyon gasped, feeling the pain begin to subside as he opened his eyes, silencing his cries and as well as the deafening ringing. The man recalled his strength, slowly getting up on one knee, allowing himself to briefly recover before retrieving his torch from the cold floor as he stood on his shaky legs. Without allowing him time to recover from his episode he recklessly rushed down the path, stumbling slightly but fortunately recovering in the end.

“Hope, is that you?!” He desperately called out groaning straight after, using whatever energy reserves he had to push himself forward, as well as concentrating on not losing his footing.

Keeping his torch ahead to burn away the darkness, on the verge of pushing his limits as he jogged at a steady pace, he ignored his aching mind and body, relying solely on his resolve to keep him moving. He kept his eyes glued to the ground as he traversed the rough terrain.

As he drew closer to the source of the sobbing, he was blinded as the burning heart of his torch died in an instant; blinding Apollyon and compelling him to trip over an edgy bump in the path before falling harshly on the jagged floor. He instinctively pushed out his arms ahead of him, letting them take the impact of the fall, however he exclaimed in pain as the barbed stone edges scrapped the frail skin of his forearms, some managing to get lucky and outright pierce his skin.

Slowly getting up on his knee while seething through his teeth, his glowing gaze fell upon the charred purple remnants of the lifeless torch, still slowly eating through the untainted parts of the wood, “Damn this forsaken place.” He muttered under his breath, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the shaft of the makeshift torch tighter, but just as he was about to throw the lifeless torch away, he froze as a series of alluring and recognisable sounds made themselves known.

The thumping of a beating heart.

The sound of a living being proclaiming its life to this uncaring world.

The sound that would bring tears of joy to a loving mother.

As those rhythmic beats resonated throughout the cave, Apollyon slowly looked up, seeing a flashing red light from around the corner; surging briefly before darkening just as fast. This kept going on again and again. It was then Apollyon noticed a pattern; The flashing light was in sync with the soothing heartbeat.

The rhythmic beating along with the alluring light around the corner drew the curiosity of the man, his eyes widening as he slowly got up on his feet, dropping his torch as he cautiously drew ever closer.

Making his way around the corner, his eyes grew to the size of saucers as his mouth was left slightly ajared - uttering no words - with the appearance of a sight unlike any other.

There - at the end of the void - was a stone shrine, and embedded in it was a foreboding object that sent chills down Apollyon’s spine.

The object was a mace of an intriguing design - for a dark, metallic winged angel fully concealed in hooded robes acted as the head of the mace with its broad folded wings acting as its maul. The hooded angel was resting its hands on the pommel of the sword it held in front of it. The Crozius’ body consisted of a thick rod with leather straps wrapped around it.

“Impossible… A Cruzis Psykanum… here?” He whispered softly, unbelief in his voice.

Though as much as the threat the object presented itself - emitting a red light that synced with the sounds of a heartbeat - he cautiously made his way towards the Cruzis, keeping his eyes locked onto it and not daring to even glance away once, all the while clenching his hands and tightening up his muscles.

As he approached closer and closer, a renewed sense of dread washed over the man as the heartbeats were soon joined by a series of faint, unintelligible whispers that echoed throughout the void, compelling him to tremble in the majesty of Cruzis.

Upon reaching the ghastly shrine, slowly reaching out for the Cruzis with a shaking hand, the heartbeats increased in pace as did the faint whispers. Together they intensified the ruthless assault on his will, refusing to back down and showing no mercy.

Apollyon started to breathe irregularly, taking quick and disorderly breaths as his hand got closer and closer. The feeling of his heart threatening to burst out of his chest was just as irregular as his breathing, but once Apollyon finally wrapped his digits around the body of the Cruzis, the dreaded red was replaced with a calm purple, and the heartbeats and whispers ceased in an instant, filling the void with silence with the exception of Apollyon’s breathing and pounding heart.

Regaining his composure, his trembling body and shaking hand ceased, swiftly replaced by a determined attitude. His wavering hold of the Cruzis changed firm one, tightening his hold with one hand before getting another firm grasp around it.

Tugging at the Cruzis, grunting as he struggled to pull it out in the guise of the shrine's unbreaking hold, Apollyon repositioned his body; feet shoulder width apart and knees slightly bent.

Sucking his belly in, he shot up, pulling the Cruzis from the shrine’s hold.

Looking down at the Cruzis, a smile formed on his face as he traced his hand along the body of the Cruzis, feeling the sensation of the smooth leather as his hand traveled downwards, eventually reaching the pommel of the Cruzis.

The pommel had a shape of a phoenix with its chest pushed out and wings stretched. Its colour - much like the rest of the Cruzis - was debatable due to the unnatural purple aura lighting up the area, but if it was anything like Apollyon expected, then he could possibly take a guess.

However, the whispers that have thought it have retreated, had only regrouped to mount their counterattack but with something up their sleeve.

Their once unintelligible, faint whispers became partially clear, allowing Apollyon to hear a mixture of voices. Old, young, masculine, feminine; A dozen voices speaking in unison however with different thoughts in mind, making their words sound almost alien to him.

But as he stood there, entranced, his eyes dilating as he gazed upon the Cruzis, another more familiar massculine voice entered his head.

“Apollyon!” It called out, sounding distant.

However, the human’s attention remained on the Cruzis, his mind filled with its faint whispers and his eyes enshrouded with its aura.

“Apollyon!” It called out again, sounding much closer this time around.

His focus seemed to have disrupted, for his eyes blinked for the first time since he laid his hands upon the Cruzis, they started off slowly at first but soon began to pick up the pace, blinking in rapid succession as his grip over the Crozius began to tighten.

“Apollyon!” Shouted the voice, resonating in the man’s mind. Finally breaking his never-ending stare, for his pupils returned to their default state before blinking blankly once more. Though as his sight was briefly obscured by his eyelids, as they shot open he realised that in his hands was his book. A book that was simply sitting on his lap with a shadow looming over its aged pages.

Shifting his gaze from the ancient texts to the figure standing before him, he realised that Apis had been standing there, blankly looking at the human with narrowed eyebrows, “Finally!” He exclaimed, groaning as he sat in his rear, “You’ve been staring at that glowing book for ages, is something wrong?”

As Apollyon stared at the frustrated bull, he slowly opened his mouth to respond, but could only leave it ajared with no words to utter, only glancing from his to the book.

“You alright there?” Apis questioned, cocking his head to the side, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, I mean your skin is turning pale.”

With his hands, Apollyon instinctively reached out for his face, his digits splayed out over his cheeks, feeling them up, feeling the immense sweat on them, before resting his hands on the log he sat upon.

“I’m fine.” He said swiftly, groaning in pain as he threw a hand to his forehead the moment he felt an immense amount of pounding.

“Are you sure?” Apis said, raising an eyebrow, “I’m no expert on humans but you look like cow du- Hey… your nose is bleeding…”

“Wha-” Apollyon uttered, freezing as he felt a drop of liquid run down his nose. Upon stopping it with a finger and looking at the crimson that painted a couple of his digits, he wiped his nose with a hand before wiping it on his clothes.

Slamming the book shut and standing tall - compelling Apis to get off his rear - Apollyon picked up his staff, mentally reaching out for the book in his hand, opening it to a random page before chaining it back onto the staff.

Turning to Apis - who seemed to be waiting for him - once he was finished

“Is everyth-”

“Everything’s fine” Apollyon harshly interjected, taking a deep breath as he looked down to the bull, “Fret not about what you saw, now, get back to work, I’ll be-” Apollyon held his tongue upon seeing Apis recoiling back, “What?”

“L-listen, I don’t know how it works for humans but it hasn’t been that long since we started our break.” He claimed.

“It hasn't?” Apollyon said, a bewildered look upon his face.

“It hasn’t.” Apis reaffirmed, “My herd has only been relaxing for few minutes now, and I won’t overwork them.”

Apollyon reached deep into his pocket for his pocket watch, pulling it out and opening the skeletal case, “Ah, I see.” He said, closing the case and returning the pocket watch to its respective place, “Carry on with your break then Apis, I’ll be doing some things, here and there.”

Nodding, however hesitantly, the bull glanced to the side, only daring to look back once he heard the sounds of Apollyon’s boots trudging on the grass, slowly growing distant at every passing second. Seeing that the human’s back was facing him, Apis squinted as the staff in his hand, more specifically at the glowing book that was chained to the staff.

The bull stared endlessly at it, never once breaking his sight of it, however, once the book emitted a brief glow he was pulled from his trance as he was struck by a sudden pounding of the head and deafened by ringing ears. Groaning in pain, Apis stumbled back, bringing a hoof to the side of his head to massage his throbbing mind that felt like it was going to implode.

Though as the ringing ears subsided with only the pounding headache remaining, his ears perked up at the sounds of a series of faint incoherent whispering mixed with chilling cackling that released a sense of dread over the bull.

Going stiff as a statue, Apis could only watch as the human walked away, all the while feeling his heart threatening to break out of his chest and the uncomfortable sensation of his lungs expanding and shrinking at an irregular pace.

Eventually, the ghastly aura of the book dissipated into thin air once Apollyon had created some distance between him and the bull, allowing Apis to move freely, away from his non-existent bounds.

Although he was able to maneuver freely, the foreboding aura remained, compelling him to slowly walk back to his herd with shaky legs and dragging his hooves along the dirt all the way.

As Apollyon turned about, leaving the Apis alone and making his way to where Clarabelle laid, briefly glancing towards his staff the moment he noticed a brief surge in energy, he smiled at the sight of his daughters, who ontinue suckling on Clarabelle’s udders while the cow simply laid there, basking in the rays of the sun.

Clarabelle craned her neck upon hearing the footsteps of Apollyon’s approach, deadpanning at him before laying back down and staring endlessly into the surrounding forests. As the sounds of movement came to a stop, she braced herself for another lecture from the human, but curiosity struck her as seconds passed and she heard nothing.

Craning her neck to look at the human, she noticed that he was simply kneeling down on one knee, using his dextritrious digits to scratch the two sisters behind the ears to which they certainly enjoyed, evident by their joyful harmonic humming that could outperform a choir alone.

Unfortunately their humming was silenced the moment Apollyon manifested an aura around the two, pulling them off Clarabelle’s udders and into his warm embrace. Clarabelle expected to hear a cry of defiance but was surprised to hear a hum of acceptance as the fillies nuzzled their father’s chest with a smile about their face.

“Your welcome to chat with the rest of your herd, Infra unum.” (Inferior one) “These two will be with me for until we get back to work.”

Once Apollyon was finished with their brief social exchange, he rose up from his feet and left Clarabelle alone without uttering another word.

Clarabelle’s focus didn’t remain on them for long, for her focus was shifted to the side as she noticed something moving from the corner of her vision, and when she craned her neck to face the moving figure she witnessed Apis dragging his hooves along the ground, heading the direction of the rest of the herd.

Rolling her eyes, she got off from the ground and onto her hooves before quickly making her way towards the uneasy bull.

“Apis,” She called out as she approached. His ears perking up before giving her his full attention, “Is something wrong? Why are you dragging your hooves and shaking like that?”

Apis opened his mouth to answer her questions but held his tongue, leaving his mouth ajar with no word coming out.

Clarabelle arched an eyebrow at his actions, looking deep into his eyes as Apis pondered in his own thoughts.

“I-It’s nothing, just concerned with the predators that live here.” He said, glancing at the forest surrounding them.

“You’re getting concerned now? But we’ve been here for while.”

“I know, but I feel like they’ve been getting more active recently, I mean, you heard those howls earlier right?”

“Apis… the whole herd sleeps together in the byre. Of course I heard them. We all did.”

“I know, but still… they weren’t like this before, at least not this active.”

Taking those words in, Clarabelle sighed, shaking her head as she placed a hoof on his cheek, bringing his gaze back onto her, “I wouldn’t be too concerned about them, we have a human to protect us and you know what our ancestors have said about them.”

Apis stared into Clarabelle’s eyes for a moment or two, eventually using his own hoof to push away hers, “You and I both know that he’s not here to protect us” He stated as fact, “He’s only here to protect them” Apis finished, eyeing the gesturing to the human and his daughters with his eyes.

Clarabelle shifted her focus to the group. Watching as Apollyon opened one of the many chests and pulled out of what seemed to be a large piece of yellowed rectangular piece of rag paper. The man held it up to his face, gracing his daughters - who were now on his shoulders - to whatever it contained.

“We’re just an obstacle in his path, we are but motes of dust in his presence, nothing more than a nuisance that he’s forced to put up with.”

“Maybe…” She said nervously, looking back at the bull “But without us, his fillies won’t survive long.”

“Not for long, they look like they’re almost ready to consume solids. A month tops remember? But maybe another or two for the dark blue one. He just has to wait until we’ve outlived our usefulness.”

“And then what? What is he going to do? He can’t just kick us out. He can’t just get rid of us.”

Apis deadpanned at her, only chuckling after a few moments of silence. His actions bewildered Clarabelle, ignorant of the reason for his laughter.

“Belle… there’s nothing more dangerous on this planet than a human with purpose, and when properly motivated, they could do anything. They could move destroy armies with a snap of their fingers, lay waste to entire kingdoms with a blink of their eyes and force entire empires to bend to their will with a single thought. So what’s to stop him from simply turning us into ashes.”

“Lady Harpstrings, that’s what.”

When Apis opened his mouth to reply, he held his tongue just before he could utter any words out. Only closing his mouth and eyes when he looked away, sighing before speaking in a dispirited tone in his voice, “Lady Harpstrings can do many things, but even for a mare like her, there are still things that are just plain beyond her.”

“Well if you’d pay attention to her stories then you would be surprised.” She said, pausing for a moment, ”If any-creature could demand something of the humans, its her.”

“I doubt it, humans are very… complicated” He scoffed, “Though I wished she told us about this before-hoof… but, she is a very busy mare.”

“She always is.” Clarabelle smiled, “Listen, we just have to play nice until Lady Harpstrings arrives.”

“Let’s just hope he won’t turn us to ashes before then… That or something… else” He finished, emphasizing the last word with a swift shiver.

“Something else?” She quizzed, tilting her head.

“Nevermind… let’s just get back to the others”

Nodding, however hesitantly, Clarabelle began to turn about but was stopped as she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Perplexed, she looked back at the bull, seeing a stern and determined look about his face.

“This conversation stays between us, we don’t have to tell the others about what they will never understand.”

“As always, Apis” Clarabelle finished, turning about and making her way towards the rest of the herd, leaving Apis to ponder in his own thoughts.

Please come soon Lady Harpstrings…

Returning to the reality before him, he quickly ran up beside Clarabelle, briefly looking at the human who had seemed to move from the chests to towering walls of his manor, sitting in its looming shadow with his staff embedded in the ground beside him. The two sisters were relaxing on his lap, their beautiful wings drooping to the sides - acting as some sort of miniature makeshift blanket for the human - a wide smile on their faces as they enjoyed the ecstatic sensation of Apollyon’s digits scratching their backs.

As Apollyon relaxed in the shade of the manor, enjoying the warmth of his makeshift blanket. He couldn’t help but let out a depressing sigh as he brought a hand to his nose, pressing it there for a moment before holding it in front of him, staring at the remnants of dried crimson from earlier.

Apollyon’s focus shifted from his bloodied fingers to the dark forest ahead of him, and after staring for a moment or two he held out his hand with the palm facing the sky.

In an instant, his staff radiated with a purple glow, however briefly, for particles and strands of psykana began to gather into a single entity, taking shape in Apollyon’s hand.

“Regana.” Apollyon whispered, once her form was complete. Ceasing to continue drawing energy from his staff, thus letting it return to its slumber.

As Apollyon held Regana in his hand, the entity began to stir awake, slowly glowing brighter as her consciousness became reality.

Once Regana awoke, jolting from Apollyon’s hand, the entity started to undertake a process of extreme glee; Radiating brighter as she quickly looped around Apollyon’s head, phasing through the solid manor and bouncing in the air like a rubber ball, all the while humming harmonic calls that mimic that of a whale.

Apollyon smiled at the sight, not saying a word and letting her exhaust herself out.

Upon seeing that the Regana started to slow down, Apollyon caught her in the air, staring into her non-existent eyes, “Regana my friend, as much as I wish to spend time with you, unfortunately it will have to wait.” He stated, his attitude and tone changing to a more disciplined one, “There’s a concern of mine I wish to share.”

As Regana noticed the sudden drop in the atmosphere, emitting a sad tune.

“The ‘Mantle’ showed me something as I was gracing myself with its wisdom,” Apollyon said, continuing after Regana emitted a curious tune, “A Primogenitus relic. A ‘Cruzis Psykanum’ to be exact.”

Regana immediately shot up in the air upon hearing those words, continuing to dance around Apollyon once again, compelling him to sigh, “Regana,” He said, getting the entity’s full undivided attention, “You and I both know the value of these relics but we also know that the Mantle’s vision could be nothing but the deception of the ‘Aether’, and it’s lies are as endless as the black void of the heavens above. So I need you to do me a favour.”

The curious entity let out a questionable tune.

“Look into my mind, find the cave, and investigate the Mantle’s claims. If they’re true, then I shall retrieve it myself, for it will prove useful for the birthing of this kingdom and the protection of its future children. If they’re false, return to me, the sight of a friendly face is always a welcome one.”

When Apollyon finished, Regana radiated with pride, glowing brighter at his words. Once she was done taking in Apollyon’s words, she hovered in front of his face, locking onto his glowing eyes and staring deep into what lay within.

Remaining still for what seemed like an eternity when in reality it had only been a few seconds at the most, Regana emitted another cheerful tune before swiftly looping around Apollyon’s body and slingshotting herself towards the dark confines of the Everfree, leaving a faint, shimmering trail of psykana as she went.

“Good luck, my most dearest friend…” Apollyon whispered, idly giving Lulu some satisfying scritches behind the ears, “I’m amazed how you two haven’t awoken from Regana.” He remarked, a warm smile forming on his face before deciding to lean back against the manor, letting his eyes shut, thus allowing him to enjoy the peaceful songs of the birds.

The break that Apollyon granted flew by like sands being blown by the stinging winds of the desert, and though as much as the man wanted to continue to relax under the shade of the manor, enjoying his makeshift blanket and the peaceful tunes sung by the songbirds, he knew there was much work to be done.

Reaching out for his staff, wrapping his digits around the bottom, he manifested an aura around the slumbering fillies before reluctantly lifting them off his muscled thighs and onto floor grass beside him. Feeling the heat and pressure of their bodies leave him, he got off his rear, dusting himself off before heading down to the chests.

Getting an eye of Apis chatting with members of his herd, Apollyon called out to him, telling him to get back to work once seeing that he had caught Apis’ attention.

Receiving an hesitant but obedient nod, he looked to the members of his herd, ordering them to get back to the formation of the fields with the exception of Clarabelle, who had a much higher task.

Thus they worked, sweat pouring from the human as he continued to cut down trees with the axe in his hands, making more room for future structures while Apis oversaw the formation of future fields, but focusing on the productivity of the first field, and with the permission of Apollyon, he retrieved a sack medium sized sack from one of the chests.

Upon reaching the first of many fields, he opened it up, revealing an incomprehensible number of wheat seeds. Tipping some of its contents in his hoof before scattering them to the field. Only moving onto another section once he was satisfied with a sufficient amount of seeds being scattered into the earth below, before being graced with a healthy amount of water.

Clarabelle didn’t have a strenuous task but it was an imperative one nevertheless, watching over the two sisters as they slumbered under the shadow of the manor, though she laid down on the other side of the sisters from the staff, making some distance that compelled her to let a out a breath of relief. As she watched the others work, there came a dreaded time when the balance of the world would be shaken to its very core: The sudden awakening of the sisters.

Unfortunately, Clarabelle could not tame their wild cries thus leaving Apollyon to tend to the matter himself. Using the same methods as before, he stabilised the world-shattering event before giving them some light head pats and entrusting Clarabelle to tend to them as he worked.

Time blew by rather swiftly as everybody endured the pain of their backbreaking work, though it was easier for those who could tag out when necessary, but nevertheless, an acceptable amount of work was accomplished on the first day. Three decently sized fields were formed on the great plains; with each being sown with wheat seeds.

Though upon noticing orange and red sky, noting on how it consumed the remnants of the remaining blue patches, Apis ordered each and every one of them to rest and as expected, his herd took it without a second thought, immediately returning the farming equipment to their respective chests and dragging them into the foyer of the manor before leaving Apis and Clarabelle with Apollyon, as they headed back around the manor.

The bull stretched every part of his body, reveling in the sensation of his muscles loosening up, letting out a satisfied groan as he did this. Upon feeling his stiff body loosen up a bit, he started to make his way to Apollyon, who was standing at the edge of the borders of the Everfree, constantly shifting his gaze into its dark depths as if he were searching for something.

Apollyon stood there with the staff embedded into the ground next to him, eyebrows narrowed and a frown formed on his face.

Apis was understandably hesitant about approaching him, ignorant of whether he was disturbing him or not, but his thoughts were shaken free as a series of ear-piercing howls sent a sudden rush to his heart.

Just as Apis was about to back away, Apollyon turned to look at him, a frown upon his face as his stare pierced right through him, “You’ve done well,” Apollyon praised, glancing back to the forest, “But this is merely the beginning, so I’d suggest you get some sleep, everyone needs to be at their peak tomorrow.”

“Uh sure but-”

“Apis… I will not repeat myself.” Apollyon said harshly, wrapping his digits around the staff, his knuckles turning white from how hard he clenched, “Return to your herd with Clarabelle, I still have some things to take care off.”

Upon witnessing Appolyon’s harsh tone and whitening knuckles, he backed down, conceding, and leaving Apollyon in silence. Catching the eye of Clarabelle, who was watching the exchange fold out while sitting beside the two sister’s.

Apis waved her over, receiving a hesitant nod as she glanced between the two sisters and himself. Getting up and dusting herself off, she departed, leaving the proximity of the sisters and quickly running up beside the bull.

As their voices grew distant, Apollyon let out a sigh of relief as he made his way to his fillies with the staff in hand. As he neared the two alicorns, a purple aura was conjured around them, levitating them off the ground before floating over to the human’s warm accepting embrace.

While doing this, he felt a familiar presence begin to make its approach.

Upon turning around, he was greeted with the sight of Regana dashing out of the dark confines of the Everfree, flying over the green plains and halting herself once she neared Apollyon’s face, all while leaving a faint, shimmering trail of psykana behind.

“Welcome back,” Apollyon greeted with a smile, relocating his fillies from his arm to their respective spots on his shoulders, left being Lulu’s and right being Celly’s, “What news do you bring?” He requested holding out the palm of his hand, allowing Regana to nest herself in his warm palm.

As Apollyon held Regana in his palm, he was warmed by the sensation of her empowering energy, even feeling it travel along his skin, maneuvering from his left hand to the staff he held in his right.

The entity emitted a harmonic tune, briefly radiating with pride and accomplishment.

“Ah, well done Regana,” Apollyon praised, receiving a cheerful tune from the entity, “I will retrieve the Cruzis when I have the chance, but right now I must lay the foundation for this community.”

Regana emitted out several curious tunes, looking to the left with her non-existent eyes. Once he was finished, she allowed Apollyon to answer them.

“Yes, they are now part of this community, and yes they’re still as inferior regardless of their sapient status, and yes they’re necessary.”

Regana let off a harmonic hum.

“Perhaps, but we will see where the path takes us.”

With another question in mind, she issued another question. One that compelled Apollyon to smirk at the entity, “Observe.” He said, letting Regana float on her own before holding the staff in front of him with two hands, raising it up towards the now blackening sky.

While the staff was in the air, streaks of purple lightning began to spark from the stave’s figureheads and the chained Mantle. His eyes undertook a process of glowing brighter Seconds passed as an aura of psykana began to surround the Apollyon, becoming enshrouded in its majesty.

Feeling that he channeled enough energy, he embedded the staff into the ground in front of him, sending forth a wave of cosmic energy; A wave of shimmering purple washing over the plains ahead of him and ceasing to exist before they reached the borders of the Everfree.

Pulling the staff back to his side, a smirk formed on Apolyon’s face as several wisps glowing wisps took form in the plains, manifesting into several ball-like entities that closely resembled Regana with the expectation of them being a smaller size.

As they were birthed in the fields, the lesser entities started to behave erratically, dashing all over the place, inspecting everything from the miniscule ant to the towering manor itself but thankfully their curiosity of the world around them began to die, leading them to gather around Apollyon’s body, constantly looping around his well-built sweating frame.

“Remain still.” Apollyon commanded with a disciplined tone and attitude. Most froze at his words, maneuvering and stopping in front of him, while others continued to ignore his orders in favour of their own actions.

Groaning with annoyance, he tapped on the ground with his staff, instantly banishing the deviants, allowing the obedient ones to remain, “Good,” He smiled, looking at the smaller entities in front of him, “I have a task for each and every one of you. I need you all to split up and find lost groups of equines, griffons or deer and lead them here. I entrust you in the han- I mean, mind of Regana, for she will oversee your efforts, obey her words as if they were my own. That is all.”

Heeding Apollyon’s commands, the lesser entities radiated brightly, humming some harmonic tones before shooting towards the skies and splitting off in several directions.

“Watch over them.” Apollyon ordered, looking at Regana, “I’m going to rest for tomorrow’s work. Don’t hesitate to call me if there is a problem.”

Glowing brightly, Regana traveled to Apollyon’s cheek, giving him a quick sparky nuzzle before shooting towards the skies, becoming enshrouded as she entered the clouds above.

Apollyon brought a hand to his cheek as he started to make his way inside, rubbing his fingers along his skin, feeling the sensation of electrical static, “Ow!” He exclaimed, recoiling from his hand as it was struck by a miniature streak of light.

Hearing some giggling originating from his shoulders, he relocated the sisters once more, from his shoulders into his mental hold in front of him, “Excuse me? Did you just giggle at my pain?”

Unfortunately the fillies refused to answer.

Lulu gave off a cheeky smirk as she glanced to the sides, seemingly paying no attention to Apollyon while Celestia - with the advantage of larger wings - covered her face entirely, muffling her giggling.

“Argh!” Apollyon uttered in mock pain, placing a hand on his heart, gripping a part of his shirt tightly, “Betrayed by my own daughters, how could I have not foreseen such events!” He cried out, closing the manor's front doors, soon joining his laughter with those of the two sister’s.

Author's Note

So... what do you think? Comments, criticism and theories are highly encouraged and appreciated! :twilightsmile:

Chapter VIII - The Endless Desert II

Oh benevolent defenders of all sacred life, send us your warriors to defend us…

Apollyon uttered a groan as he heard a series of echoing voices distant chanting. Rolling onto his arm, Apollyon felt his body sink into the bed, and with his eyes clenched shut, he witnessed nothing but darkness.

Oh eternal protectors of Ponykind, send us your Angels to shield us from the creatures of darkness…

The man rolled back onto his back, subconsciously planting his forearm above his head.

Angels of the Empress…

Please come…

Please answer our prayers…

As those voices and distant chanting ceased, they were soon replaced by the sounds of light thunder, compelling him to slowly stir awake. Upon cracking open his eyelids, he was met with blurry purple storms above, emitting brief flashes of light inside itself.

Letting his vision adjust, clearing up and allowing everything to be defined, his eyes shot open as his mind processed what he was staring at; The ever recognisable untamed tamed skies from that desert.

He moved to sit himself up, only to feel an immense amount of weight on his stomach keeping him on the ground. Upon looking down, his gaze fell onto Hope who was peacefully slumbering on his belly, uttering a delicate snore underneath that hat of hers.

With Hope on his stomach, his eyes turned to his arm before glancing back to the sleeping filly. He, without a doubt knew that getting up would be pointless, thus he remained still, letting out a distraught sigh as his eyes turned to the burning stars in the skies.

This place again?

He thought, looking to the left, his sight encountering his staff and the aura encompassed Mantle that seemed to interact with the numerous strands and particles of pure psykana that merely floated all over the place.

Clearly this place is significant but in what way?

Squinting his eyes at the Mantle, observing how it touched the surrounding psykana, keeping it in its hold before letting it reign free elsewhere.

What is this place to you?

The response of the Mantle only came in the form of a series of faint unintelligible whispers. These whispers filled his mind for a few moments before ceasing entirely whilst simultaneously allowing its aura to die down, forcing the surrounding psykana to disappear into thin air, leaving no trace of the cosmic energy to terrify the filly.

Alright then… keep your secrets…

The man looked towards the purple skies, taking note of their subtle transformation into skies that wept blood. Holding out his palm towards the crimson skies, the surrounding psykana slowly drifted towards his hand, taking on a single glove-like form as it consolidated with others of its kind.

Now it looked like Apollyon was wearing a second layer of translucent glowing skin over his hand.

I wonder how long it will take for Hope to wake up… Wait… does time even exist here?

As he retracted his hand back, placing it flat on his chest, his mind flashed back to his last involuntary visit but specifically of the moment when he decided to sleep.

Not having anything else to occupy him, he mentally shrugged, clenching his eyes shut, blinding him from all that which existed around, he focused on the rhythmic beating of his heart, as they mixed with the sounds of his breathing, all this while the distant thunder went off in the skies.

If time even mattered here, Apollyon must’ve laid there long enough to last a millenia, focusing on nothing but those three things alone. But as he laid there, the sounds of nearby voices once again echoed in his mind.

A maledicto in tenebris, o misericors, Anima, libera nos.

(From the curse of the darkness, oh merciful Anima, deliver us)

Ex plaga in vento urente, o misericors, Anima, emundet nos.

(From the scourge of the blight, oh merciful Anima, cleanse us)

Ex pericula belli, o misericors, Anima, protege nos.

(From the dangers of war, oh merciful Anima, protect us)

A blasphemia: cecidit, o misericors, Anima, et salvabit nos.

(From the blasphemy of the fallen, oh merciful Anima, save us)

A maiestate tua lux, o misericors, Anima, amplecti nos.

(From the majesty of your light, oh merciful Anima, embrace us)

These voices, whoever they belonged to, were mixed with distant sobbing, some muffled while others were being expressed without concern. Their voices alone carried emotion strong enough to feel from the atmosphere. The pain, the sorrow, the grief, Apollyon could feel it all. But their strengthening desperation and their wavering hope were to only bring about their ruin at a quicker pace.

But before Apollyon could look deeper into their pain, he was interrupted the moment he felt something small pushing against his right shoulder. His eyes shot wide open, allowing himself to bear witness to the blurred accursed skies above him once more.

Letting his sight adjust, becoming distinct and clear only after a few moments. His gaze shifted over to the right upon feeling another set of pushes against his shoulder.

His sight fell upon Hope, who stood there in her flowing and somewhat dirty white sundress and her oversized straw hat.

The filly seemed to be curious about something, for her head was cocked to the side as she stared endlessly into Apollyon’s eyes.

“I-is something wrong?” Apollyon asked, prompting himself up with an elbow.

The grey filly didn’t react immediately, instead taking a few moments to gather her bearing before retrieving her pencil and notepad from the confines of her hat, using both to convey a message to the human as she hoofed it over to him.

‘You were talking in your sleep’’

“I was?” He questioned skeptically, receiving a nod from Hope before she started to write another message.

‘You kept whispering something’

Apollyon let her words sink in for a moment, looking into her eyes, “What was I saying?”

Hope merely shrugged, shaking her head before conveying another message.

‘Something other than Equish’

“I see… How long was I out for?”

Again, the filly shrugged.

‘I’m not sure. I tried to wake you up before but you didn’t’

“Oh, well, I’m up now right?”

A small gentle smile formed on the filly’s face as she revealed to him another message.

‘Yep, and that’s what matters!’

Apollyon mimicked Hope’s smile after he read her message, shaking his head and chuckling along, “Sure, that’s what matters…”

The man rose to his feet once he was finished, his gaze looking out towards the boundless desert that stretched far beyond what his sight could see alone. After uttering a sigh, he dusted the sand that clung to his clothes before slowly stretching out every part of his body.

Hope watched the man with a pair of curious eyes, observing how his muscles stretched as he slowly leaned to the sides or pulled on his limbs, bringing them closer to his torso.

The grey filly looked down at her own body, comparing it to the human stretching in front of her.

It was then a light bulb lit up above her head.

Hope stood up on her hind legs before attempting to copy the human’s actions. However, as one would expect for a quadruped, her attempt to stand on two legs was met with a failure. For the moment she tried, she immediately lost her balance, stumbling back a few steps before falling onto her back completely.

Dazed for a brief moment, the little filly’s eyes began spinning in dizziness, thankfully she was able to shake her head out of it before standing up on all fours upon recovering.

As she stood there with shaking legs, the sounds of snickering entered her ears, compelling her to look in the direction of the source.

There, she witnessed Apollyon glancing away once her eyes fell upon him, she watched as Apollyon snickered into his hand, attempting to muffle the noise. While the man attempted to regain his composure, he voiced out his pain the moment struck on the side of the head.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing the side of his head before looking in the direction of which his head was struck.

There, he witnessed a steaming filly who was sitting on her rump, crossing her legs and puffing out her cheeks, pouting as she looked away.

Apollyon’s eyes were drawn to the sand he stood upon, finding a small notepad covered in the dry desert sand. But despite getting hit by the fuming filly, he uttered a brief chuckle before crouching down to pick up Hope’s only method of communication.

Upon retrieving the notepad from the confines of the coarse and rough sand, he walked over to the pouting filly of who turned away from the man.

Apollyon could see the steam emitting from her head, noticing how it slowly rose into the air.

Amused by her antics, a smirk formed on Apollyon’s face as he held out his hand, notepad within his grasp.

“Here… you seemed to have… ‘misplaced’ this.”

The filly paid no attention, slightly shifting away from the human before pointing her to the sky.

“Heh, very well then.” Apollyon chuckled, laying the notepad onto the brim of her hat, “I’m very sorry for laughing at you, Hope.” He said, clearly catching the interest of as she opened one of her eyes and looked up at the man.

“If you need something, I’ll be standing over there,”--Apollyon gestured in the direction of the staff and the Mantle--”I’ll be trying to find a way out of here.”

After giving the filly a pat on the head, Apollyon rose to his feet, spinning on his heels before making his way to his staff. Upon retrieving the relic from the sand, his gaze quickly shifted back to the filly, of who seemed to be watching the human with interest for she no longer wasn’t in her pouting position. Instead she was standing on all fours and facing Apollyon.

She - of course - was surprised at the sudden attention, uttering out a gasp before quickly returning to her pouting position.

“Smooth Hope, real smooth…” Apollyon remarked, receiving a ‘hmph’ in return making him chuckle.

Exploiting the opportunity while he had it, the bottom of the staff was lightly tapped onto the sand, sending out a miniscule almost invisible shockwave that knocked all the sand off, cleansing the taint off the figureheads. With that done and dusted, the relic was then embedded within sand before the Mantle’s chains were released into Apollyon’s care.

The man's eyes were set upon the pages of the Mantle, idly wandering the edges of the hill he and Hope had conquered, flipping through and reading the ancient texts it contained.

Though as Apollyon occupied himself, Hope was intrigued by his actions, her head tilting to the side as the filly observed his interest in the book. But as Hope stared at Apollyon’s ceaseless actions, the mind of the filly was torn elsewhere the moment she heard a series of grumbles emitting from her belly.

A frown grew on her face as her hoof met the surface of her belly, feeling it rumble and quake as her stomach roared once more. Hope’s jaw clenched as her eyes traveled up to the figure of Apollyon, pondering on whether to bother him or not. But the moment another roar resonated throughout the desert, Hope reluctantly got off her rump - feeling a little weak on the legs - before meekly walking towards the occupied man.

Apollyon - who was so preoccupied in the book - failed to notice the approach of the little filly, continuing to flip through the Mantle’s contents before his gaze turned to the burning stars above.

Hope’s hoof slowly reached out for the man’s leg, but as it neared, the filly hesitated, hovering her hoof just a few centimetres away from Apollyon’s calf. A droplet of sweat formed on the filly’s forehead as she remained in that position, continuing to stay as still as possible.

The filly choked up, eventually lowered her hoof to the sand. Turning about as quietly as possible before raising a hoof to walk away. But her stomach betrayed her, letting out another roar that forced the filly to wince at the sound.

“Hope?” Apollyon called out, making the filly’s hair stand at attention, “Is something wrong?”

The filly swallowed the lump in her throat before turning around to meet the glowing gaze of the towering human, but much to her surprise she was met with a knelt-down man with a warm comforting smile upon his face, “Did you need something, little one?” He asked gently, his book under his arm and his full attention on the filly.

Hope uttered a distraught sigh, retrieving the notepad from the brim of her hat and writing with a pencil she retrieving from the insides of said hat. Once the filly was done writing, she hoofed the notepad to the kneeling man.

‘I’m hungry’

“Hungry eh?” He replied, receiving a series of shameful nods from the filly while her ears flattened against her head, “Hey, what’s wrong, little one?”

As the human’s question hit the filly, her gaze went to the side, staring at the sand that was under the guise of her shadow.

“Little one…” He said softly, his alluring voice slowly drawing the attention of the filly, “Was it because you said you were hungry?”

The filly stared endlessly into his eyes, letting his question hang in the air for a few moments before eventually looking away and answering Apollyon with another series of shameful nods.

Hope winced as the human uttered a sigh and witnessing him shake in his head in disappointment from the corner of her vision, “Hope…” He said, making every part of the filly’s body tense up at the sound of her name, “Why would you be ashamed for asking for food?” He asked, handing the notepad to her in hope that she would construct a message for him.

But instead of writing a message down like Apollyon had hoped, she instead placed the notepad into the confines of her hat before looking away in shame.

“Don’t want to talk about it?” Hope nodded, making Apollyon sigh disappointingly,“Very well, I understand.”

Upon hearing that, Hope’s eyes widened slightly before her gaze shifted to the human, “But if you ever want to talk about it, then let me know… ok?” Apollyon sincerely said.

The sheer warmth of his words warmed her beating heart, forcing a smile upon the filly as she gave the man a nod.

“Come on,” Apollyon smiled, patting her on the head, “Let’s find you something to eat.” Finishing his exchange, Apollyon rose up, returning the Mantle to its respective place onto the staff, retrieving the relic with both hands once the Mantle was chained.

Hope watched the actions of the man with interest, noting on the way he held the staff in the grasp of his hands; front and centre of his body and hovering slightly above the sand.

“That way,” He said, pointing in the direction to the left of Hope, “I can see a desert oasis over those dunes. There’s a small desert house in the area as well, likely to be food for you there.”

Hope’s eyes traced the man’s finger, looking ceasely into the boundless desert, but upon seeing nothing, her gaze shifted back to the man, shrugging once his eyes were laid upon her.

“Don’t worry, you’ll see it once I climb over that fourth sand dune in the far distance.” Apollyon said, receiving a perplexed look combined with a specific gesture of her pointing to herself, “Oh you’ll be on shoulders, little one. You’re starving and you’re very young, so you should be conserving your energy, not burning through it with a journey like this.”

Hope held up a hoof in an attempt to protest, but was cut off the instant Apollyon spoke, “This is non-negotiable. I’d prefer it if you didn’t collapse on the way.”

Seeing no chance of winning, Hope relented, her hoof slowly lowered before her rump met the sand. Her forelegs were then raised up towards the untamed sky while her eyes locked onto Apollyon’s own.

Apollyon chuckled at the sight, proceeding to crouch down in front of the filly once he made his way over to puffed up filly, “You know, you might as well make yourself a balloon if you’re gonna keep puffing up your cheeks like that.”

Hope growled lowly at the human’s suggestion, looking away while keeping her forelegs raised.

“Up you go.” pollyon chuckled, lifting her up onto his shoulders upon placing his hands under her forelegs. Though as much as the filly wanted to keep her cheeks puffed out, she reluctantly began to silently laugh - making the same movement and facial expressions as anypony else would make while laughing - as she was lifted up from the desert sand.

“Comfortable up there?” Apollyon asked, exploiting the sole movement of his eyes in an attempt to see if Hope was good or not, “Tap my head once for yes, twice for no.”

After a few moments of feeling Hope shift around on his shoulders, seeking to find that perfect position, she eventually gave Apollyon a light tap on the head, “Good, now hang on tight, I’m going to climb down this steep hill here, alright?”

Upon receiving another light tap on the head, a smile formed on Apollyon’s face as the digits of his hands wrapped themselves around the body of the staff, keeping the relic front and centre of Apollyon while he took the first steps of this short journey.

Approaching the edge of the hill, Apollyon took absolute care as he began to make his way down, sparing no effort in keeping his balance. All four of Hope’s legs wrapped themselves around Apollyon’s head and neck respectively, tensing up the moment Apollyon started to go down.

“Be careful little one, you’re still an Earth Pony. You could still strangle me with your legs if you tried.” He warned, feeling a leg leave his head before her hoof met the top of his head, “Just don’t squeeze too hard and it should be fine, little one.”

Apolloyn could feel the sheer body warmth of the filly reaching out to him, spreading from his neck to his head as Hope squeezed tighter, reacting accordingly everytime Apollyon stumbled a bit. Apologising before continuing on, the journey down became somewhat smoother as the man started to get used to Hope’s added bodyweight.

Eventually Apollyon made it to the bottom of the hill without much of an incident, uttering a sigh of relief left his mouth the moment his feet met the flat desert plains. Hope’s legs then loosened themselves, granting Apollyon’s heating skin with a wave of fresh air that felt absolutely divine to him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, a hint of worry in his voice, rubbing a hand along the front of his neck, “Didn’t scare you too much right?”

Hope removed a foreleg from Apollyon’s head, inserting it into her hat and pulling out her notepad to yet convey another message to the man, holding the object in front of Apollyon’s face once she was done writing.

‘No, I’m fine’

“That’s good” Apollyon smiled, continuing his journey to the next set of dunes ahead, “You know, now that I think about it. Where did you learn to read and write, little one?”

‘Home’

“Oh, your parents taught you?”

‘Mostly my mum, daddy was always busy at work’

“Ah, and speaking of, where are your parents? Did you wake up here alone?”

The atmosphere in the air dropped the moment Apollyon asked that question, even as he walked, he could feel the filly hesitate to answer the question for there were long pauses in between her writing.

‘When I woke up you were sitting still with your eyes closed for some reason, and as for my parents I’m not really sure where they are. But I hope they’re around here somewhere”

“Haven't your parents told you not to speak to strangers?”

‘Yes. But my daddy also said the symbolic heads of your staff are really special and those who have them are good ponies’

“Oh, is that so? Do you know what they are?”

Apollyon heard some gentle humming as he waited for an answer, but was surprised the moment Hope conveyed a message that didn’t contain the answer he sought.

‘Uh, I kinda forgot, but from what I remember from the top of my head is that, I think, both the phoenix and double-headed eagle is considered sacred to a group of hoomans’

Apollyon stared at the answer that hung in front of his face, letting it hang there for a moment before his eyes shut and his head shook from side to side, “You know, you’re a lot smarter than most… creatures I’ve met, little one”

‘I read a lot of the books that daddy brings home, mister hooman’

Apollyon stared at the message hanging in front of him once more, letting a few moments pass as he took those thoughts in.

“Scientia est potentia, parum unum,” (Knowledge is power, little one) Apollyon whispered, a pleasing smile forming on his face, “Praesidio bene” (Guard it well)

‘Did you say something?’

“A special phrase spoken among humans… Well… one particular group of… kleptomaniac humans.”

‘What is the phrase?’

Apollyon then gladly enlightened her curious mind with the phrase, even explaining the word he used to describe this particular group of humans.

‘Why are they called that?’

“Well, let’s just say that property always seems to go missing whenever they show up.” Apollyon then scoffed, chuckling for a brief moment, “Bloody Magpies…Claim it in the name of the House my a- ow! Hey!” He exclaimed, feeling a small hoof strike him on the head, forcing him to stumble slightly.

Swiftly recovering, Hope avoided the burning stare of Appolyon as he attempted to get a look at her, exploiting both his head and eyes to do so, failing miserably in the process.

And just as Apollyon opened his mouth to scold her, he was cut off as Hope hung another message in front of the man’s face.

‘No bad language Apol’

In an instant, his eyebrow was raised, “Apol? Seriously?” He deadpanned, receiving a light tap on the head, compelling him to groan annoyingly before releasing a sigh of defeat, “Very well, little one. You will have it your way.”

Upon hearing those words, Hope’s forelegs shot towards the sky in a cheerful manner, her face beaming at the defeat of a human.

But despite the filly’s victory, Apollyon could only smile as his gaze turned to the desert sand, observing the content movements of the filly’s shadow as she pumped her forelegs into the air.

Heh, kids…

Time - if it existed here - passed as Apollyon journeyed with Hope to the Oasis that was hidden beyond mere sight. The blood weeping skies slowly consumed the dark purple storms overhead, converting their streaks of light from purple to red.

Hope’s gaze was drawn to the unnatural modification, her muscles began to tense up as the skies above emitted a sense of dread upon her. Her fluffy ears flattening against her head every time those distant storms resonated throughout the desert.

Apollyon could feel Hope’s body beginning to tremble under the shade of the skies, their storms beginning to intensify and frighten her to the very core.

To Apollyon, the immense fear building up inside the little filly was unbearable, he needed to distract her from those accursed skies. Sweat began to form on his forehead as he sought for something to distract the little filly for a prolonged period of time, and upon placing his hand on his pocket, his eyes widened in realisation whilst he silently cursed himself for not thinking of this earlier.

Reaching deep into his pockets, he pulled out his personal pocket watch, raising it above his head while simultaneously calling out his nickname for her.

“Little one,” He called out, his voice immediately drawing her gaze to his head before they were quickly drawn to his hand and the shining object within its grasp, compelling her to utter a gasp at the sight, “Would you like to see this?”

Although he couldn’t see it, he could feel Hope’s eyes widening and sparking with sheer awe at the sight of his pocket watch. It’s sheer beauty alone would trap dragons in an unbreakable trance.

Apollyon felt her little hooves retrieve the shining object from his hand before hearing them rub themselves all over the skeletal case and the engravings.

“A thing of beauty… isn't it?” A broad smile formed on his face upon feeling a hoof tap him on the head, “It was a gift, very rare and very special.”

Apollyon heard a click to which he assumed was the skeletal case popping open.

“It doesn’t seem to work in this place. Which makes me wonder if time even exists here you know?”

He chuckled when he received another tap on the head, “How about you hold onto it for a while. Legend has it that if you stare long enough something amazing will happen. Vague but still it's worth a try”

A lie… but she didn’t have to know that, just whatever kept her eyes from the skies.

Fortunately for Apollyon, Hope’s mouth was left ajar as she began to stare endlessly into the pocket watch, examining every single part of it with wonder and astonishment.

The human decided to exploit her disinterest of the sky, climbing up the hill at a swifter pace compared to before, utilising his staff as support for each and every step closer to the top.

Praising the Gods upon reaching the top of the hill, his eyes sparked as he was graced with a most welcome sight in this barren unnatural desert.

Surrounded by various dunes existed the colours of lush green and sparkly blue oasis. Tightly condensed thriving bushes and towering palm trees all planted around a large natural spring. By far the only living things to have been seen in this strange place.

Apollyon’s eyes looked further, towards the otherside on the borders of the oasis, he caught sight of a box shaped house primarily made out of sandstone. Even with the massive distance between them, Apollyon could see two differing shapes cut into the building; uneven squares acting as windows and a rough shape of a rectangle acting as the front entrance.

Oddly enough, there weren't any visible makeshift blinds or even broken pieces of planks nailed together to even make a door, leaving to whoever lived there exposed to the outside. This lack of security and privacy compelled Apollyon to squint his eyes, feeling an aura of distrust surrounding him.

However, Apollyon’s thoughts were pulled away the moment he heard a loud audible gasp from above, mixed with a series of sudden movements as if that individual were trying to get down.

“I know you’re excited, but I’m not taking you off my shoulders.” His words compelled Hope to growl at the Human, quickly returning the pocket watch and before retrieving her notepad, writing a hastily scribbled message.

‘What?! Why?! The oasis is right there!’

“Because there might be some hidden dangers that I have yet to unveil, and until I’m sure it's safe you’re staying right where you are.”

Some grumbling was heard from above, before another message hung in front of Apollyon’s face.

‘Fine…’

“It’s for your own safety, little one.” He sighed, “Now hold on tight while I climb down this last dune.”

Upon receiving a light tap on the head, the digits of both his hands wrapped around his staff before he steadily began to make his way down for the final time.

Apollyon halted as he approached the borders of the lush oasis, his glowing gaze scanning everything from the smallest bush to the leaves of the palm trees.

The distrustful aura he emitted into the atmosphere grew evermore the longer he stared at the silent oasis. As far as he could tell, he was unable to sense anything with a moderate amount of life force in the area.

But other life forces in the area were the least of his concern, for it was what he could not see or sense. Non-living things like traps.

And what perfect place would be for traps within the silent oasis, the dense bushes and tightly compact palm trees would conceal them without much effort.

Apollyon’s gaze turned to the staff in his hand, tightening his hold upon it before looking back to the oasis in front of him.

“Little one,” Apollyon called out, feeling the filly plant her jeans on top of his, “You’re just hungry right? You don’t feel thirsty at all?”

The man felt her head leave the top of his before hearing the scribbling or pencil against paper.

‘Just hungry’

“Alright that’s good. This means we can just detour straight for the house on the other side.” He said, his boots kicking up the sand as he started to walk around the oasis.

‘What if we get thirsty?’

“Then I’ll get the water, I’m still not sure if there are any traps that exist within the greens of the oasis.”

‘What makes you think there are traps here?’

“Well, as far as I know, this is the only place where people can find drinkable water and some food if we’re lucky. Which makes it a likely place to attract… undesirables”

‘What’s so bad about that?’

Apollyon uttered a tired sigh, “Little one… you should be conserving your energy, how about we leave the questions for another time, ok?”

‘...Ok’ Hope ‘said’ allowing Apollyon to utter a breath of relief.

Thus a game of silence began, the only sounds ever heard were the distant thunder above and the sound of the sand being disturbed as Apollyon trod upon it, leaving his boot prints behind for the desert wind to cover them up and clean up after his mess.

The walk to the lonely house was short and painless, just how anyone would like it.

Stopping in front of the house, Apollyon stared into the black void of the house’s dark interior that not even the natural light above could illuminate.

Staring endlessly into the dark, Apollyon’s muscles tensed up as he scanned every part of the house, seeking for any sort of anomalies.

“Little one,” Apollyon called out, making the filly sit up straight, “Wait here, I’m going to make sure it’s safe.”

Upon receiving a tap on the head, his staff was embedded into the sand before his hands relocated themselves under Hope’s forelegs.

Hope showed the expression of laughter at his touch before feeling herself being lifted off his broad shoulders and onto all fours upon the desert sand.

“You are not to move from this spot, little one.” Apollyon said with a stern gaze, to which Hope immediately complied, sitting on her rear before saluting Apollyon.

“Heh, kids…” He chuckled, patting Hope on the head before ruffling up her mane.

Setting his sights upon the seemingly abandoned house, Apollyon vigilantly watched its open windows and entrance, his knees slightly bent as he approached, ready to jump out of the way, to propel him from danger in the event of an ambush - or even to shield a certain filly from harm.

Though as he arrived at the entrance of the dark abode, nothing has taken the opportunity to jump at him, living or not. Despite this, the man didn’t let his guard down.

Bending down slightly to avoid hitting his head as he stepped inside, the only things that were clearly visible was the glow of his eyes and a dim glow of a crystal that seemed to be sitting atop of a bench to the right of him.

Seeing a potential source of light, Apollyon carefully made his way to the crystal, raising his legs high in the hopes of not hitting his shin against any hidden low-level objects. Reaching the crystal, he hovered a hand over it, ordering the crystal to illuminate the house and burn away the darkness.

Upon feeling a presence near it, the crystal lit up, fulfilling its purpose, and allowing Apollyon to get a view of the rest of this small home, and from what he saw, it seemed to be big enough for a single living individual to reside in.

The bench that the crystal sat upon was made from sandstone, it’s structure seemed to be merged with the wall and floor, becoming one with the house.

Behind him laid a small bed big enough for one, however it was smaller than regular human beds to which Apollyon took note of. The makeshift bedding used for it seems to be used from various animal furs and hides rather than proper bed sheets and blankets.

Looking to the ceiling above, he could swear that the distance between his eyes and said ceiling were about a couple of centimetres apart.

From there, his gaze was immediately set upon the chest. Upon taking a knee in front of it, his hands began to molest the object as they traced themselves all over, feeling its structure and body.

Not feeling any hidden switches or magical runes, his hands relocated themselves to the lid, pushing up slightly to dig his digits under to gain some leverage before pushing it up a bit more. Stopping once a gap large enough was made for his eyes to see through, his glowing gaze peered inside, once again seeking for any sort of sabotage.

After scanning the insides for what seemed like an eternity, he began to fully open the chest but with the utmost caution. Triggering nothing, he uttered a breath of relief as he wiped the droplets of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Little one! You can come in now!” Apollyon shouted, looking deep into the interior of the chest, discovering what he was hoping to find.

Food.

A loaf of bread and three mangos.

Apollyon uttered a disappointed sigh, slowly shaking his head as he stared at the low amount of food for the filly.

Hopefully this will be enough for her… for now at least…

Upon hearing the sounds of miniature hoofsteps stepping onto the sandstone floor from behind, he reached inside, grasping a mango in his firm hold, examining every part of it before retracting back and handing it over to the filly.

“I hope you’re not picky, there’s not much for you, little one.”

Feeling the weight of the mango leave his hand, his head tilted to the side as his eyes caught sight of a diary with a leather cover.

Intrigued, he reached out to it, feeling it’s smooth texture as he retrieved it from the confines of the chest.

Shutting the chest closed, Apollyon rose up to his feet - mere centimetres away from bumping his head against the low ceiling - before making his way to the sandstone bench.

Hope watched the man open the much smaller book, rapidly flipping through its pages as he left his staff leaning against the wall.

Though her eyes were drawn to her belly as her stomach let out another roar that was even louder than before. Not willing to endure another, her little mouth opened wide before her flat and broad teeth sunk into the mango, feeling its juicy insides spill from her mouth.

Her eyes lidded close as she enjoyed the divine fruit. Losing herself to her instincts, she spared no effort in stuffing her face of the fruit, her stuffed mouth now forcing her to puff out her cheeks in order to fit more.

Upon taking one more bite of the fruit, her attention was drawn to the right as she heard Apollyon’s voice along with a slam of a book.

“Dammit,” He voices out, his eyes turning to Hope, “It seems that the the entirety of this journal is written in a xenos tongue.”

A perplexed expression was formed on Hope’s face in response to his choice of words”

“Uh, it was written in a different language.”

In an instant, the look of confusion was replaced with a one of understanding.

‘So what now?’

Hope asked, utilising her notepad and pencil.

“I’ll think about it. But how about you get some rest, little one?” He said gesturing to the bed behind Hope.

Looking toward the singular bed, a frown formed on her face as she realised something, and upon looking back to the human, she hit him with a look of concern.

‘What about you? Where will you sleep?’

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He assured, giving Hope a smile, “Besides, the bed is too small for me anyway.”

Silence fell upon the two as their eyes locked onto each other, the feeling of concern was mutual but one had to concede.

Hope eventually uttered a sigh, nodding solemnly before making her way to the bed. Approaching the place of rest, she reared up on her hindlegs, allowing her forelegs to reach the top of the bed before jumping on top, immediately losing herself in its soft and warm body.

But she didn’t succumb to sleep yet as Apollyon expected, instead she readjusted herself to lay down on her side, whilst facing the human, of who gave her a little wave of his hand.

“Rest well, little one. I’ll be here when you awake.”

Hope gave him a nod whilst still laying down, letting out a drawn out yawn along with the smacking of lips as the sounds of distant thunder sounded off.

Soon her eyes began to slowly close, blinding herself from the rest of the land with only the picture of a pair of glowing purple orbs looking at her with a warm smile.

As Apollyon watched Hope’s sapphire irises become obscured by her eyelids, and her silence now replaced by a series of delicate snores. The once warm smile he once showed slowly disappeared, fading to a neutral expression as a hand hovered over the crystal, dimming it’s light before his gaze shifted over to his staff.

With a tired sigh, he grabbed hold of the staff before carefully making his way outside, treading with caution to not bump his staff or himself against anything in fear of waking the filly.

When he finally made his way outside without managing to wake up Hope, he held his staff in front him, gripping onto it with both hands before raising it up and impaling it into the sand.

“Protect us, as we slumber under your vigilant watch.” He whispered, his knuckles turning white as he tightened his hold over the staff.

The Mantle surged brightly for a brief moment in response, emitting a series of faint unintelligible whispers before falling silent but keeping its aura.

Apollyon remained standing there for a moment or two, watching the beauty of the Mantle’s aura as it shined in this dark desert. Eventually, the hold of the staff was relinquished before he turned about, and proceeded to return the abode without uttering another word.

Stepping inside once more, he wasted no time in leaning back against the wall, ever so slowly falling to the ground as he stared towards the ceiling, his eyes slowly lidded close.

It's a wonder we didn't get stuck in a loop... what was different this time around?

The thought remained in his head, thinking about the possibilities of such a circumstance. Upon taking a deep breath he whispered a few phrases.

Eam Angeli, pugnare fortiter…

(Her Angels fight bravely…)

Et exercitus Eius Angeli, erat magna

(The valour of Her Angels was great…)

Author's Note

Did you miss me? :trollestia:

Comments, criticism and theories are highly appreciated :twilightsmile:

Chapter IX - Traitors' Caravan

Author's Note

I have returned to lay waste to your boredom :trollestia:

Oh and from now on there will be a reserved comment from me for each new future chapter that will be published. Just so you are given the opportunity to individually like or dislike chapters if you wish and pass on criticism. You don't have to of course but it is well appreciated. :twilightblush:

I got the idea from here: https://www.fimfiction.net/group/214603/fim-will-live-on-forever/thread/441233/can-we-please-commision-this

Finally, just so that you're aware, I've rewritten the 'Voices of the Father'. I've only added a few minor things here and there to accompany the new art it was blessed with and gave the thing something called grammar, so if you've already read the old one then it won't be necessary for you to read the rewritten version.

Unless? Nah I'm just playing with you... unless?

Chapter IX - Traitors' Caravan

Under the rays of the sun that reigned all over, giving life to the land and to the creatures that inhabit it, there existed a quiet dirt road that was sandwiched between thick pine forests. The dirt road stretched far beyond the sight a person could see; going over large hills and flat plains alike.

However, the silence of the road would temporarily be tarnished, as a large group of armoured bird-like quadrupeds made their way down the road, escorting a griffon-drawn wooden wagon that bore the weight of a partially covered rectangular iron cage on its back.

These creatures were much larger and bulkier than your average equine, more so than your average earth pony. Their front talons were as sharp as mastercrafted blades while their back legs contained the average muscle mass found in a mature stallion.

Their superior bulked up appearance was only enhanced with the addition of their thick plate armor that covered them from head to toe, but with the only exception of their joints missing a plate or two, but they made due with chainmail.

On their broad backs, they each carried a pack filled with all the necessities; ranging from stale plain food to the tools required to set up an encampment. Pickaxes, saws, axes… each and every one of them made an ear cringing sound when they were hit up against their armour.

These giffons were equipped with weapons that ranged from swords to crossbows, that of which seemed to have been fresh from the smith. For either their weapons have yet to see the horrors of combat or that they simply took pride in the maintenance of their gear.

The boots of the quadrupeds marched onto the ground, leaving their mark and desecrating the road while the metal clanking of their armour rang out through the forest, disturbing the peace and quiet that has existed after the absence of the last group of travelers… if there were any that is…

Their gaze turned left and right, high and low, keeping a vigilant pair of eyes out for this road that would be a perfect place for an ambush.

Warriors - no matter how green from selection - would have much ease in a place like this, for the concealment the trees would provide as well as the short distance between the road and the treeline would allow them to easily cut down unlucky bastard who was on the flanks of the wagon, while the thickness of the trees would act as a natural barrier against any sort of ranged weapons… if they manage to retaliate that is.

“This has to have been the easiest job we could’ve taken!” A griffon said, resting the body of his spear on his body whilst he walked beside another of his kind, remaining behind the trap covered, creaking wagon, “Quick and simple, just the way it should always be!”

“Meh,” The other griffon shrugged, glancing at the sword that was contained within its sheath, “I prefer to fight something, get the blood rushing and the heart pumping. You know what I mean?”

“Come on Thistle, what’s not to like about a quick cash-grab?” He said, the sound of metal clanging as he nudged Thistle in the side, “We did what we had to with no effort whatsoever, in exchange for a big bag of bits to spend.”

“I never said it was bad Pontus, just… really, really…boring.”

“Oh come off it! You can get all the action you want later tonight after we turn in this contract to our employer.” Pontus with a sly smile, lightly pushing his battle-buddy, “Think of the chicks you could score after we drink a barrel of mead or two.”

“Pfft, yeah, I’m gonna pass on that. The last time you said that, we ended up in the woods with a pair of bows, a quiver of arrows and an arrow shot right in my tender part of my rear.”

“Hey, the doc said you would be fine.”

“The doc also laughed to her heart's content after hearing what happened,” Thistle proceeded to face-talon himself after he recalled what happened, “By the Gods… absolve me of these memories…”

Letting the silence take the reins for the moment, Pontus did his best to hold back his laughter, choosing instead to mess with his buddy, “Well, it seems like the Gods don’t like you, so it looks like you’re stuck with them, you unlucky bastard.”

Thistle’s talon returned to the floor as his gaze turned to his partner, arching an eyebrow, “Says the griffon who was born out of wedlock.”

“Eh,” Pontus shrugged, “I did manage to get that arrow right in between the plates, while drunk and under the cover of night mind you, so I think I’m pretty lucky.”

Thistle uttered an exaggerated groan, one that was so loud, he seemed to have unintentionally gotten the attention of someone, for their attention was immediately drawn to the iron cage as a long, low moan emitted from its interior.

“Well, well, well… looks who’s finally awake.” Pontus said before kicking the dirt of the ground as he jumped onto the wagon, the combined weight of him and his armour briefly destabilizing the wagon the moment he landed.

Wrapping his talons around the flat bars of the cage, he peered inside, catching sight of a lone feminine equine shaped figure. The sounds of her horseshoes making contact with the bars rang out as she slowly rose up from her slumber, flaring out her oddly shaped wings that didn’t seem to hold the patterns of feathers.

It was then she opened her eyes, revealing her amber coloured orbs with slitted pupils that were practically feline in nature.

“Hello there beautiful…” Pontus smirked, forcing a fearful look to befall the trembling mare, of who shrunk herself to the side, clinging to the bars of the cage.

“Feeling… alone in there? I wouldn’t mind providing you some company… if you know what I mean…”

“Pontus, leave the merchandise alone before the boss sees you, you godsforsaken filthy heated dog,” Thistle warned from behind.

“Oh relax, Thistle,” Pontus attempted to reassure, glancing at the griffon, “I don’t think she- AH!” The griffon screamed out in pain, releasing his hold of the bars the moment he felt a surge of pain shoot up signals from his talon to his mind.

Falling off the wagon, he landed harshly on his rear. Beginning to growl, Pontus felt his blood begin to boil while he heard some chuckling beside him. His eyes fell on his talon; the source of the stinging sensation he endured, there he witnessed blood pouring out from two holes.

Clenching his talon tightly, he looked to the thestral, eyeing the blood dripping from her fangs. It was then she hissed at him, flaring out her bat-like wings whilst lowering herself close to the ground, as if she were preparing to pounce on him.

The thestral remained in that position, appearing to remain defiant, but the continuing trembling of her body betrayed herself, showing her real emotions.

“Damn you, you filthy equine!” He shouted, rushing to stand up before lowering and pointing his spear at the mare, who gasped and retreated deeper into the confines of the cage, but before he could do anything he would regret, a dominant masculine shout compelled him to freeze in place.

“What’s going on here?!” The voice shouted out, sending forth an order of silence within the area and forcing Pontus to quickly drop the spear to the ground.

Ah crap… Pontus thought as he heard the ground slightly quake behind him. Upon turning around, his eyes locked onto a large figure, one that was way above the average size of their species, and the thick armour only made the figure look even bigger.

“Well?” The imposing griffon said, taking a step forward before leaning into Pontus’ personal space.

“Nothing Captain, I was only playing around with the Thestral and then she bit me, that’s it,” Pontus answered.

Smelling the stench of deceit from his claim alone, the Captain’s eyes were drawn to the spear that laid on the ground before shifting to the thestral in their custody.

He noted the thestrals trembling, swearing he could see her dark coat turning pale as if she just witnessed her whole life flash by in a blink of an eye.

“Is that so?” The Captain questioned, to which he received a nod in return, “Well in that case, play with your boyfriend here instead.”--He said, gesturing to Thistle--“The Thestral is valuable and is to be left untouched and untainted as stated by our contract, so she’s off limits to everygriff with the expectation of our employer. Am I understood?”

“Crystal, Captain!” Pontus shouted, mock saluting his leader.

“Good, but if I catch you trying to pull the same stunt again, I’ll chop off your talons myself, but for now…” The Captain then pulled out a rolled up brown bullwhip from his side,letting it unroll to its full length as it fell to the ground below, “Twenty lashings.”

Seeing and hearing what he was going to have to endure for pushing his luck, Pontus lowered his head, his eyes staring at the armoured greaves of his superior.

Lovely…

The thestral watched the scene before her, feeling the irregular pace her heart was beating at, imagining the disciplinary punishment she would witness before her own eyes.

From within the cold confines of the iron cage, she crept up to the door, keeping her eyes locked onto the soon-to-be-punished soul as the group slowly made their way to the treeline, soon escaping her view thanks to the large dull grey tarp overhead.

Although she would not be able to see what was to occur; the voices and the actions of the griffons were enough for her to paint a scene in her mind.

“Strip him down and tie him to that tree,” She heard the leader order, his deep and bold voice carrying the authority of a very prestigious general from a very disciplined military.

It sounded like Pontus’ equipment was thrown onto a pile, for the first batch of gear was muffled by the ground while the others were not, for the sounds of clanking metal and the jingle of chainmail filled the air soon after.

“Easy with that gear boys, plate armour ain’t cheap,” Pontus remarked.

A few steps were overheard, sticks and rocks being crushed under the creatures weight.

“Bite down on this son…” Came the words from a much older and gruff sounding griffon, “It helps… Trust me, I know…”

There was a brief moment of silence from them, the thestral could picture Pontus’ hesitance but eventually followed through with the other griffon’s advice.

Then came the sounds of somepony clearing their throat that was quickly followed by a brief announcement, “For the inability to keep himself under control. For the drawing of lethal weaponry against valuable merchandise that was to be brought unharmed and untainted to our employer. I sentence Superior Private Pontus of the Bastard Sons to disciplinary punishment… Twenty lashes… of which he will carry the sentence now.”

There was a brief moment of somber silence that felt like it lasted an eternity, but it wasn’t long until she heard the first of many cracks of the Captain’s whip, followed by many shrieking cries and the shouts of numbers, “One... Two... Three!”

Although the commotion outside would be considered disturbing and outright cruel to many, the thestral couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen to her.

They called me merchandise… What’s going to happen to me… What are they going to do to me?

Witnessing the cruelty of her captors, and knowing the barbaric nature of griffons, she couldn’t help but picture the many dark ‘what if’ scenarios that rushed through her mind.

Gruelling labour? Gladiator? Servant to some priss Highborn? Or… something far worse?

The mare felt a lump grow in her throat, and she soon came to a realisation that she had to escape before she was ‘delivered’ to this employer of theirs.

“...Six… Seven… Eight!”

Still hearing the cracks of the whip and the griffon’s pain, she jumped to action - under the assumption that these merc’s were distracted by the show before them - inspecting every part of the cage door, from the keyhole to its hinges, both of which showing no signs of weakness to exploit.

“Damnit,” The mare cursed, stomping her hoof, sending forth a metallic banging sound upon making contact with the bars of the bottom of the cage.

Though as she cursed under her breath and wondering what to do, the sounds of heavy-weighted footsteps drew her attention, compelling her to gasp as she realised that they were coming towards her.

Backing deeper into the cage, only stopping once she felt her rump make contact with the iron bars, her shrunken pupils remained on the door.

The door that led to her freedom, to her life, and to her future.

Soon enough, an armoured griffon came into view, coming from the right side.

His head turned to the trembling mare, who had her tail tucked between her legs and her ears flattened against her head.

“Don’t get any funny ideas, equine. Our employer is paying us well to bring you in and we’re very inclined on doing just that.”

The mare didn’t say anything, was it fear that prevented her from doing so? Or simply because she refused to, regardless, she held her breath, her eyes locked onto the griffon's own whilst she shrunk into the corner of the cage.

“Nothing to say huh?” He remarked, inspecting the keyhole to see if the mare had tried tampering with it.

Hmm… good, it doesn’t look like she was messing with it…

Done inspecting the keyhole, he turned to the mare, his face bearing no signs of anger nor regret, “Just be a good quiet equine and do as you're told. Don’t try to escape either, you won’t get far enough and you'll only piss us off.”

The mare remained silent, to which the griffon nodded and accepted as her answer before turning to his group and heading in their direction, assumingly to watch the show.

It took some time for Pontus’ punishment to have been served, much needed time that could’ve been spent on the road.

“...Eighteen… Nineteen… Twenty!” The Captain finished, taking a step back and filling his emptied lungs with much needed air as he looked at the scene before him.

Now, if the Captain did not have preexisting knowledge of why Pontus was kneeling on the ground and why his forelegs were wrapped around the tree, he would’ve assumed he was one of those types of griffons that hug trees and nature and whatnot, spinning their tales of ‘going with the flow’ or something along those lines.

But fully knowing what had happened, his gaze traveled lower, leaving Pontus’ upper plumage before entering the domain of his lower coat. Several lines, some deeper than others and some criss-crossing existing wounds marked his fur coat.

Open cuts that were exposed to the elements, all beginning to release a crimson liquid that ran down his body; only seeping into the fur once the liquid had traveled far enough.

“Untie his bounds,” The Captain ordered, watching a pair of his subordinates obey without a second thought, “You all know the rules,” He stated, looking to each member of the surrounding group, “Whatever merchandise we transport, whether it be living, dead, or inanimate, is not to be threatened or damaged, in any way, shape or form.”

Taking a breath, he glanced towards Pontus - of who commented to the griffons beside him whilst he was being lifted off the ground from his forelegs, “Was that it? Heh, shame… I was beginning to enjoy myself.”

The Captain shook his head, looking to his subordinates again before continuing his speech, “And another thing, we may be mercenaries, but our organization has standards. Break them, and you will be subjected to disciplinary punishment as Pontus before you. Now with that done and dusted, let’s get back to it!”

The Captain’s finished with an authoritative dismissal, trusting his subordinates with seeking out and completing their own tasks and duties, while he looked towards Pontus once more, who was wrapping tainting the cleanliness of bandages with the assistance of Thistle. Wrapping his wounds in white that was quickly consumed by liquid red.

Uttering a sigh of disappointment, he started to make his way to the cage, his heavy-weighted steps most likely announcing themselves to its occupant while he rolled up his whip.

His eyes peered into the dark confines of the cage once he had arrived, just barely making out the thestral’s figure that blended in the dark, practically becoming one with it, the only thing giving her away was a pair of seemingly floating eyes.

“Why?” She asked, voice breaking.

“Why what?” The Captain responded harshly, turning his massive frame to face the mare.

“...Why did you take me from my home?”

“Money,” He replied without hesitation, “You, a thestral, are worth a lot to our employer, to what reason I don’t know, nor do I care.”

“You shouldn’t do this. They’ll come for me, you know?”

The Captain scoffed at her words, “Who’s going to come for you? Your clan?” He paused, letting her conjure up her own sense of false hope, “Face it, they won’t come for you. Your clan wouldn’t dare step into the domain of the outside world, a world they have chosen to isolate themselves from. So tell me thestral, who will come to your aid?”

The mare remained silent, her pupils constricted to the size of a pinball while her feeling of hope became nothing but a memory, allowing the fear to consume her body.

She subconsciously brought a hoof to her chest at a snail’s pace, seeking comfort through the actions of grasping a certain item, but as her hoof encountered nothing, all alarms rang off in her body and she immediately looked down, gasping upon seeing nothing hanging around her neck.

“Heh, recognise this?” The Captain questioned, regaining her full attention.

And there, in the griffon’s talon, she saw what her hoof sought for.

A slim silver chain carrying the weight of a pair of crossed wings, its etchings were finely detailed, giving off the patterns of feathers found on the regular wings of the pegasi.

“You know, I’ve never understood why you hold these items so dear to your heart,” The Captain commented, “Your wings don’t even resemble the ones here…”

He then eyed the mare suspiciously, vigilantly watching out for her to give off any sudden movements or changes in her body.

“Are these wings meant to represent somegriff? No…” He smirked, picking the chain up with his other talon, letting the necklace dangle high, “It can’t be those damn pegasi, there’s no way your race would ever consider interacting with them.”

The mare kept her silence, sweat beginning to form droplets on her forehead.

“No, not them… but perhaps… something else entirely?”

Her shaky eyes locked onto his own, her muscles constantly switching to a tensed and relaxed state.

“Ah, I see…” He nodded slowly, “So answer me this… If they had created you in their image, why would they have your kind roam the dark, cold and lonely night while every-creature roams the bright, warm, and populated day? Why do you continue to worship and love them even if the feelings aren’t mutual?” He paused, letting his questions sink in.

“Have you wondered about this yourself? Is this the first time these questions have popped into your head?”

But as much as he wanted to continue, he was interrupted by a voice beside him.

“Captain?” A young griffon called out, getting his leader’s attention.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready to continue forward. We’re just waiting on you.”

“Thank you Private, I’ll be there in a moment. You’re dismissed.” He ended, receiving a salute from the Private before turning to the mare once more.

“I’ll now leave you to contemplate in your own thoughts thestral,” The Captain reached into the cage, just managing to squeeze his talon through the squats gaps before dropping the necklace in front of her, “Pray to them while you still have the chance, I doubt you will once we turn you over.”

Leaving the mare on her own, he crouched low to the ground as possible, preparing to take flight, and with muscles tensed signaling that he was ready, the Captain leapt off the ground and into the air, the flapping of his wings sending gusts of wind to the surrounding areas below, kicking up a wave of dirt into the air.

With the Captain gone, the mare rushed to reclaim her necklace, but unfortunately the mare, one her hooves got caught in one of the gaps of the cage below, compelling her to trip and fall just short of the precious object.

Though it appeared she had landed harshly, she didn’t seem to have recognised the pain, for her sole focus was on the necklace alone, all other concerns to her were seemingly secondary.

After pushing herself off the bars, uncaring of the marks she would've received from the fall, she finally retrieved her prize, quickly picking it up before bringing it to her chest and sitting on her rump.

It was in that very moment - of when she held the object with an iron grip, never ever wanting to release it ever again - the dam in her eyes broke, releasing a wave of tears never seen before, seeping into her dark coat and falling to the iron bars and wooden wagon below.

The sounds of her sobbing drew the attention of the rearguard, but even they refused to pay notice, choosing to favour ignorance instead, as their minds flashed back to what happened not too long ago.

Clutching the precious object in her hooves, her broken state was seemingly being pieced back together; her trembling and tears quickly reduced to naught.

For despite the circumstances she has found herself in; Being left alone, captured and contained in a cage like an animal, a miniscule amount of happiness found itself on her face, taking the form of a small smile that would be easy to miss and hard to detect were it not for gleaming white fangs.

She remained in that single position for quite some time, never once reacting to the rough road conditions the wagon found itself in or to the voices heard outside.

Eventually however, she found the strength to pull the necklace away from her heart, holding it in front of her for a moment before placing back her it belonged all this time.

Around her neck, where the symbol it bore was hanging low enough that it would always remain as close to her heart as possible.

The thestral closed her eyes as she felt her soul being cleansed, placing her forelegs in a ‘x’-like fashion on the necklace, pressing it against the tuft of her chest. Remaining as still as possible, she took in several deep and slow breaths, blocking out all sounds of the world around her and focusing on the only source of noise inside of her.

The smooth, rhythmic beats of her heart.

“Oh merciful Faust,” She whispered sincircly, ears flattening against her head, “The cradle of Hoomanity itself; The saviours and protectors of Ponykind…”

In the thriving greens that rested in front of Nequam, the cattle were seemingly doing their part, but naturally, most or perhaps all were doing it begrudgingly, showing no joy and taking no pride in their back breaking work.The sheer amount of their negativity could even draw the attention of wendigos, if they were anything but myths of course.

Meanwhile, while the cattle glared, gossiped or complained about a certain bipedal being, Apollyon made use of his hands, utilizing both to hold the axe and swing it at one of the many trees of the Everfree, only managing to cut it down after many muscle burning swings.

Silently yelling timber as the tree fell to his axe, he wiped the beads of sweat that profusely poured from his forehead, taking this moment to glance at the most welcoming and motivating scene to his left.

The two sisters that slumbered peacefully in the shade of a large emptied chest. His staff embedded in the ground beside them as well.

Celly, seemingly already taking her older sister's title to heart, shielded Lulu with one of her wings, wrapping her small dark blue form with her wing like it was a white feathery blanket.

The man couldn’t help but smile at the sight, though as much as he wanted to stare forever, he had to pull himself away in order to continue his aching. Thus, after moving to another tree that was sentenced to death, he lifted up the axe again, adjusting his form and bringing the tool behind his head before moving to carry out the tree’s fate.

But after only managing to get one swing in, he was forced to look away, eyes clenched shut as an intense pounding of a headache struck him without warning. In an attempt to alleviate the pain that has suddenly befallen him, he brought his hand to his forehead, expressing a brief pain filled groan while he massaged his temples.

It was then a brief flash occured beside him, quickly fading away and leaving Regana in its place. The wisp - whilst whistling a series of fast-paced tunes - approached the man, stopping to hover just in front of his hand-covered-face.

Her singing suddenly ceased at the sight of the man’s palm directed towards her, “I’m… fine… “ He assured softly, slowly collecting himself, “Just… didn’t sleep well is all.”

Taking several slow and methodical breaths, he returned to his full height upon feeling the pain beginning to subside, leaving his hand on his forehead a moment longer before letting it fall to his side.

“Return.. to your duties,” He ordered, not allowing his brief episode to get in the way.

Regana merely stared at the man with her non-existent eyes, refusing to even whistle her harmonic tunes.

“I’m fine, Regana,” He reassured, looking at the concerned wisp, “Just the lack of sleep piled on with stress. I’m fine… I’m sure of it.”

The wisp remained silent for a few moments, probably contemplating on Apollyon’s state. Eventually however, she whistled a somber tune in response.

“I appreciate the concern, but I do not need to sit down,” He declared, pulling the axe from the tree before having it rest on his shoulder, “Now, would you kindly return to your duties?”

Her once bright form darkened momentarily, ceasing to even emit sparks before disappearing in another flash of light, leaving no signs of her presence.

Apollyon exhaled a depressing sigh, slowly shaking his head shortly after.

But instead of getting right back to the task at hand like he urged himself to, he instead simply… stood there, eyes locked at the missing bit of the tree, staring for who knows how long.

Finding the strength to look away, his grip tightened as he looked into the dark confines of the Everfree, pupils darting all over the place, scanning every part of the perfidious forest for as long as he stood there.

Growing tired at staring at such a distrustful yet undoubtedly valuable place, he finally returned to his own self-assigned duties. Once again preparing himself to swing his axe as he faced the tree, not even sparing a second for its last rites before carrying out its sentence.

After enduring the uncounted hours of hard menial labour, Apollyon was left physically and mentally drained of energy and willpower alike. Dropping his rear on the top of the chest, eye’s turning to the sleeping sister’s next to his boots. He was rather surprised by how they continued to remain unaware of his presence despite the noise he created when he fell, only twitching their wings or shifting closer to each other before resuming their slumber, compelling a tired smile to take shape.

But as he watched them sleep peacefully, mind blank and idle with no purpose to occupy it, his digits subconsciously interacting with each other, his smile fading out of sight. Eyes diverting and locking onto the blue sky above, a million thoughts rushed through his mind, many of which undoubtedly concerned the fillies but also of that place and Hope.

Earth Pony, Pegasi, Unicorn.

Strength, Flight and Magic.

Three races, three teachers…

But was there enough time to search?

Even when faced with the welcoming blues above, he couldn’t help but picture its accursed skies. Replacing those above with those ever dreadful colours of purple, black, and crimson.

Then there was the filly…

A little girl, alone, in that… perfidious place.

Is she alone right now? Or am I still with her?

Is she in danger? Or is she safe?

Does everything there stop while I am awake? Or does it simply continue?

Is there something behind that sweet innocent face of hers? Or is she as harmless as she appears?

The man placed the palms of his hands on his eyes, letting out a long dispirited sigh upon doing so.

To think I have to conjure up these damn thoughts directed to a little girl;To imagine the possibility that she’s a threat in some way, shape or form… is simply just… unbelievable…

Dragging his hands off his face, his head to the staff, reaching out to it as it stood there in all its glory, basking in the light of the sun with its aura remaining dormant. Just mere moments away from grasping the staff in his hand, he froze, unable or perhaps refusing to complete its journey.

The man could merely stare at his hand as it remained hovering in the air, so close to feeling its body in his hands.

But he couldn’t… something was wrong.

His eyes wandered the fields around him, his gaze jumping from birds in the skies, to the waving trees and to himself.

It was then he noticed it.

He felt the sensation of the breeze hit him, but the sounds of the wind whooshing past his ears was muffled. It was the same with the chirping birds and the dancing trees; their actions were barely even audible, being muffled to a great degree that it would outright eliminate one of his senses.

His irises flashed, with a sense of dread washed over him, enveloping him whole. His attention being drawn to that same part of the Everfree of where he stared at recently.

It was then he overheard a… voice? A feminine voice that echoed inside his head.

‘Whose existence pervades all sacred life… be they loyal or traitor… living or dead’

“Regana,” Apollyon called out from within, instantly catching sight of her manifesting in front of him in response to his call.

The wisp hovered in front of the man, assumingly emitting her tunes while her form passively sparking with energy.

“That voice… can you hear it?” Apollyon asked, feeling a sense of relief beginning to combat the dread while in her presence.

Silence claimed Regana for a few moments, perhaps she was listening or searching for what the man was hearing, for her form floated in the air, unchanging in energy or shape.

‘Whose judgement is ever true and just… ‘

‘Whose fury is matched only by their compassion and love for us… ’

Regana surged brightly, singing a tune to Apollyon, before continuing to listen to the voice.

‘Oh merciful Faust… whose beauty is outweighed by her benevolence…’

‘...Send us a savior, a deliverer, to take us from our home and lead us to a land of peace… and prosperity…’

The voice ceasing, his hearing senses returned to its full might, being able to hear everything around him once more.

Chirping, chatter, delicate snoring, everything.

“Go. Find the source of the voice and report on your findings,” He ordered, speaking with a fire in his voice, “Proceed with the utmost care, old friend. Many dangers still lurk in this lawless land.” Apollyon then received his answer that was in the form of her glowing brightly before blinking out of sight.

Leaving nothing but minor strands of psykanic energy that quickly dissipated to nothing.

The caravan and its griffon escort remained in the grasp of the forest they’ve chosen as their route; the dirt road becoming more rough and harder to handle. Protruding rocks and deep ankle high holes in the road were only some of the things that plagued the route, disrupting the stability of the place.

The mercs were only able to make it so far before starting to get a bit sluggish, their muscles struggling to endure the physical strain of carrying all their gear for much longer.

From above, the Merc Captain could see the resolve in his soldiers being slowly drained from them, the eagerness and fire that once burned brightly in their eyes was now going cold; on the verge of being snuffed out from existence.

He also noticed a pair of griffons falling behind, it would be a crime if he failed to recognise them, considering he recently punished one of them and the other was his battle-buddy.

Suddenly, out of nowhere a loud snap with a series of aggressive shouting and cries of pain was projected into the area, drawing the Captain’s attention back to the wagon.

The Captain’s eyes were beset upon a wagon that was crippled on one side while the other was in a tolerable condition. Missing its wheels, it collapsed to the left, falling onto a griffon and pinning one of his hindlegs under its own weight along with the weight of the iron cage and its occupant.

“ARGH! GET THIS DAMN THING OFF ME!” The mature griffon cried, screaming his pain to the heavens above.

The others rushed to help the pleading griffon without even a speck of hesitation, some taking flight over the cage and wrapping their talons around its bars, while others stood to the wagon, ready to lift the wooden body off the broken griffon.

“Come on, need some extra pairs of talons over here!”

“Lift on three!”

“Altogether! One, two, THREE!”

With their combined teamwork, the wagon and cage was lifted off the broken griffon, of who announced his pain for the whole world to hear. With him free the youngest of the group was able to drag him out of harm's way allowing the others to release their defective means of transportation.

The Captain landed beside them, looking to the broken griffon as he tried to move parts of his crushed body.

“Hold his talons down! Now!” He commanded, pushing the fallen griffon to the dirt and placing his weight upon him while the others obeyed, “Calm down and concentrate on your breathing, the more you move, the more it's going to hurt.”

Heeding the words of his superior, his once rushed irregular paced breathing slowly transitioned into slow methodical ones.

“Good…” The Captain nodded, taking his chance to look to the lower body of his fallen comrade.

From the surface, his armour was dented and crushed inwards, but its removal would be advised to fully inspect the condition of his leg.

“Alright, this looks like an unscheduled stop lads,” He said, hearing a set of agreeing murmurs and seeing some nodding, “But priorities first, I need that cage off the wagon, an inspection to see if it can be salvaged and a griffon to watch over our fallen comrade.”

Hearing a set of tasks needed urgently done, a number of his mercs took the initiative, jumping to it with the purpose of getting them done as quickly and carefully as possible. Naturally their fallen comrade was treated with more care than the others, being dragged to the sidelines in order for him to not to get in the way of the others.

“As for the rest of you,” The Captain continued, eyes glancing to a falling sun, “You all know your assigned duties, so get to it.”

With the promise of rest just over the horizon, these exhausted mercs summoned every last bit of their dwindling strength, each and every one of them rushing to put down their packs beside the wagon before heading out to do their part for the group. But as the others grabbed their tools to cut down trees, or set up a campfire pit with a set of cooking equipment beside it, Pontus and Thistle finally caught up to the group, the former groaning and hissing as the latter assisted him in taking off his uncomforting gear.

“Damn, hope it aint too bad,” Pontus remarked, watching the fallen griffon being cared for by another, “It looked like it hurt.”

“Luckily it was just the leg and nothing more, now hurry up and remove your armour, I need to check those bandages.”

“Yeah yeah, just watch the tail alright?”

Managing to successfully remove Pontus’ armour without (much) pain or issue, Thistle inspected the condition of the bandages wrapped around his friend’s body, noting down the rapid degrading of their bloodied forms after a short journey.

“It’s alright for now, but we’ll have to get them changed in the morning.”

“Anything else, sweetheart?” Pontus smirked.

“Unless you want to die from an infection, DO NOT get them dirty or wet. Otherwise I’ll be dragging your body back home to your sister.”

“Oh, it’s nice to know you care, besides I’m just foraging for whatever food we can find here,” He shrugged, “Can’t possibly be too hard.”

Thistle sighed, planting a talon on his forehead, “And yet you still manage to amaze me by doing the opposite of what I advise against,”

“I swear, it was one time.”

“You’ve said that for the past five time now, Pontus. I- urgh, nevermind,” Thistle left, uttering an annoyed groan, only turning to face his friend after retrieving a spear and a pair of empty buckets stacked upon one another, of which he gave Pontus to, “Come on, let’s go.” He said, bringing his friend within the confines of the forest.

After passing on the menial but essential tasks needed for the construction of the camp, the Merc Captain - frustrated and annoyed after encountering a series of unfortunate events that would most likely severely hinder their progress - needed to check up on the merchandise, any injuries she may have suffered would most likely lead to a down payment, or worse.

Arriving at the front of the cage, chest puffed out and head standing tall, he looked into the tarp covered cage, his eyes once again just barely making out the equine shape of the thestral as she sat in the back corner, back facing him.

What is she doing?

With curiosity taking control, he snuck to the side to where the thestral would be, his movements were slow and careful, hoping she would remain oblivious to his large and heavy-weighted presence.

Upon taking one more step forward, he leaned in slowly once he was close enough to eavesdrop on her, only to be confronted with some form of religious praising and pleading, wishing for some sort of divine intervention from a saviour that was never to come.

The Captain scoffed at hearing the thestral’s nonsense. Disregarding it as nothing that required his attention.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for the griffon mercs to make a clearing for the camp, it was quick and efficient under the Captain’s supervision; always passing on the next set of tasks to be completed if a merc completed theirs sooner than expected.

And with the darkness quickly washing over the land, their campfire became a beacon of light in the dark heart of the woods. Chirping crickets and the crackling of the campfire replacing the songs of birds in such a treacherous place.

Those mercs with roaring stomachs and drooling beaks congregated to the assigned cook of the group, passing their quick but most sincere thanks to him before finding a spot to consume a well-earned meal - be it alone, with a battle-buddy, or with a small group.

Some other griffons didn’t have the luxury to unwind and eat with their group however, for they had an important task assigned to them: aerial patrol around the camp or the first watch on the merchandise.

Now watching over the merchandise would be easy, especially since they were still able to get a warm meal in their bellies but over the amount of ear bashing nonsense the thestral uttered from her mouth would only make the duty just barely tolerable.

So naturally, aerial patrol was perhaps easier to endure, although you have to suffer through with a cold empty stomach. But nogriff ever said anything about sneaking away a few pieces of rock hard, bland stale bread to be eaten while they carried out their assignments.

Thistle returned to the camp with Pontus - both in a state that resembled most of those who returned earlier; Absolutely deprived of the resolve and the will to to carry out another task and somehow looking worse compared to when they left. In complete silence, they returned bearing gifts to the cook.

One bucket barely filled with berries of varying colours and another not carrying anything at all.

But despite such a small tribute, the cook graciously accepted such a fine gift for the group, pouring them each some sort of stew from the boiling pot as thanks before taking the buckets off their talons and returning to his meal.

Pontus turned about upon receiving his meal, leaving Thistle to pass their most sincere thanks to the cook before joining him under a stretched out tarp that was held up from several trees and branches; acting as some sort of hastily set up shelter that could shield a number of occupants from the affects of the weather if it were to attack them with hard rain or blistering winds and the debris it would send their way.

Pontus scooped up a part of his meal with a crude wooden spoon, bringing its warm substance into the confines of his beak as his friend sat down beside him. Pontus took his time with his meal, savouring its taste as it remained in his beak before swallowing it whole, feeling a warm sensation run down his throat.

“Better than plain bread and berries,” He remarked, scooping up more from the bowl.

“No arguments here, I can’t wait to get back to the guild to get our pay.”

“Food Thistle. Real. Hot. Food. ALL day long,” Looking at the stars above, his mind picturing such possibilities, “I wonder if Vilod would still make us that mead mixed with juniper berries…”

“After we wrecked her tavern?” Thistle scoffed, “Not a chance, we still owe her a lot before she starts serving us again.”

“Yeah, that is true… But we should be able to pay most of our debt off with this job alone. Don’t you think?”

Thistle’s eyes locked onto Pontus’ own pair for a brief moment, he opened his beak to say something but held his tongue, his thoughts wandering in dark places.

“Speaking of money…” He finally said, gaze being pulled to the iron, tarp-covered cage that had remained in the centre of the dirt road, “A lot of bits for a single thestral… Don’t you think?”

Pontus followed his friend’s gaze, eyes widening in an instant, “A bit too much if you ask me,” He whispered cautiously, diverting his gaze to the other mercs in his group quickly, “Our employer sure does her badly. Paying enough upfront to outright buy our silence as well…and let’s not mention the agent they sent ahead.”

“I know, and it has me… a bit on edge,” Thistle admitted, matching the volume of his voice to Pontus’, “All this funding and griffonpower - All this, just for a single mare.”

“She’s important to somegriff, but I think it's better if we don’t know anything about her or the job. It might get us killed.”

“Maybe… but it doesn’t change anything.”

Out of nowhere, and without any signs, a collective shiver ran down their spines in unison. Their body temperatures plummeted below average, ignoring their layers, and clouds emitting out of their beaks, “D-damn, y-you… f-feel that?” Pontus stammered, dropping his emptied bowl onto the drop before wrapping his talons around his forelegs.

“Y-yeah…” Thistle shivered, eyes looking to his friend, “The hell was that?”

“I don’t know…” Pontus shrugged, diverting his gaze to the other griffons in the camp.

Unfortunately, it seemed everygriffon in the camp experienced the same phenomenon they did. Their own temperatures matching theirs, regardless if they were by the fire, and momentarily turning each of them into cloud breathing dragons.

Though strangely enough, the cold wave left as quickly as it arrived, allowing their temperatures to rise back to a nominal level. But as much as someone would expect for relief to claim them, these mercs were only left with a sense of dread.

Thistle and Pontus knew the look on everygriffons face when they turned towards them; it was - without a speck of a doubt - a face consumed by fear. The emotion itself being so powerful, predators would be able to smell it from quite a ways away.

Morale dropped far deeper than the depths of Hell itself, their eyes darted all over the camp as the chirping of the crickets ceased and the sounds of the cracking flames and their own heartbeats continued.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this…” A merc commented, unintentionally spiking a deeper fear amongst his comrades.

“Boy you’ve always got a bad feeling about something,” The Merc Captain said.

“But sir, there’s no way the temperature would just drop like that…”

“Y-yeah…” Came the voice of a much younger griffon, speaking more once he stood up and made his way beside the campfire, quickly becoming the centre of attention, “I-I’ve only h-heard such things occurring when… the ‘Spirits of Boreas’ are near…”

Immediately, a collective number of annoyed groans was uttered amongst the group, alongside a few comments.

“Here we go again…”

“Oh Dyauspitah spare us…”

“What’s the kid got to say about them this time…”

Perhaps more unnecessary comments were said in silence, though with a roll of the eyes to go with them as well. But the boy continued despite hearing seeing the universal act in before him, his mind remaining determined and unaltered.

“I’m telling you they’re real! Spirits from the Frozen North whose breath sends forth a blizzard that is deathly chilling to the touch all while bearing an undefined form that is as cold as the emotions they hold towards us mortals.” He paused for a bit, letting his words fill the atmosphere, “No amount of fire or warmth will save us, we will starve in this starving land for this place will no longer be able to bear life. We will not be able to go home with the waters of the ‘Great Rift’ frozen and all ships - naval or airborne - are confined to its place with such extreme condi-”

“Ok, I’ve heard enough,” The Merc Captain interjected, drawing many uneasy eyes of varying colours to him, “These stories are as false the false God or Gods these Equines believe in, and I will hear no more of such nonsense.”

“But-” The Private attempted to protest, immediately getting cut off once again.

“Enough!” The Captain bellowed, sighing and taking an opportunity to take a breath, “Get some sleep lads, we march at first light.”

Sporadic mummers of agreement filled the air as some griffons turned to their own devices or made their way to the less populated shelters that were set up while others who preferred to be alone leaned against a tree, leaving the Private and the Captain alone to wage a war of endless staring towards each other.

One could only imagine the thoughts rushing through their minds as their eyes locked onto each other. One side's thoughts were probably filled with possible scolding and punishment he was to endure while the other was probably filled with possible scolding, punishment and discipline he was to inflict and enforce.

“Lucky you Private, you get to take the second watch on the merchandise… starting now,” The Captain said, a spark of fire in his eyes.

“Y-yes sir,” The Private replied rather dispiritedly, with his head low and at a volume that was barely a whisper.

As he started to make his way to the isolated cage, his Captain passed off another order to which he had no choice to accept, “Use your rations to feed the merchandise, and make sure she doesn’t try anything funny.”

The young Private remained silent, not risking anything and keeping his own thoughts to himself, lest he suffer a more gruelling form of punishment for his insolence, thus he did what he was ordered to do, replacing the merc who stood watch over the prisoner and the group before retrieving a loaf of stale bread from his marching pack and placing it in the cage, without disturbing her odd prayers.

“Oh Dyauspitah, may this night be short and uneventful…” He whispered to himself, wishing he could shut out the thestrals obnoxious, pretentious worshiping behind him.

With a combined sense of silence and an immense amount of exhaustion claiming the mercs, they calmly and swiftly drifted off into the lands of dreams and distant memories. Some dreamt of battle, wealth or power, while others dreamed of families, love or purpose. But regardless of what they dreamt of, what they all had in common was that it would not last any longer.

Slowly. One by one. Each of the slumbering mercenaries began to toss and turn; eyes clenched, jaws and muscles tensing up, their talons reaching out to grab hold something to give it an iron grip.

All this, while a series of distorted masculine and feminine voices that ranged from all walks and ages of life. These voices began prying, scratching and clawing into their inferior minds with languages known and unknown to the mercs.

But their intentions on the other hand... Who's to say?

Murderers, traitors, kidnappers, thieves, heretics…

...Their greed grows strong...

...They taint Her name with their foul existence...

...They must die...

...They exist only to be slain...

...They must suffer for their sins...

...Burn them in holy fire...

...Cleanse them. Drain them. Purge them...

...Make. Them. Suffer.

Chapter X - To Wisp Somepony Away Part I

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Chapter XI - To Wisp Somepony Away Part II

Back at the camp, where the campfire grew weaker, Thistle and Pontus were dangerously wandering close to the realm of distant dreams. They’re eyelids grew heavy, the holding up of their exhausted forms grew weaker and their attention span and awareness of their surroundings practically became non-existent.

Whilst they stared at the majestic fire, they rubbed their baggy eyes, let out exhausted yawns, and stretched every fibre of their being to their heart's content.

Thistle looked to his tired friend, much like himself, Pontus was devoid of energy and the will to stay awake.

The silence was infuriating, and the lack of purpose or tasks left the mind to wander; leading himself to recall his dreams.

His beak slowly opened with the intention of speaking his thoughts, but he held his tongue before he could spit out any words, uncertainty filling his head.

Has he heard them too? Or was it just me?

Did he see anything like I did?

However, Thistle was pulled from his thoughts the moment a familiar voice brought him back to reality.

“Something on your mind?” Pontus asked rather tiredly, curiously staring at his friend, “You’ve been staring at me for a few seconds.

A cheeky smug then formed on his face as a thought rushed past, “Hey, I know I’ve got females going weak at the knees in my presence but I didn’t know I’ve got males doing that too.” He quipped, speaking confidently as he pushed his broad chest out.

Thistle raised an eyebrow, unamused, and moments later, he shook his head, clasping his talons together as he looked to the fire before him, sighing, “Your dreams…” He started off somberly, “Do you recall them?”

Noticing his friend's tone, his attitude quickly shifted to adapt to his friend's needs, “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

Thistle held his breath, looking to the divine stars above, “After the events of one fateful battle…” He began, “I arrived at the gates of Vikuntham, bloodied and beaten. It was everything as was described by the Temple Elders”

“What did you see?”

“Shining towers of white, imposing statues of our long lost ancestors of legend and many hunting grounds for the chosen.”

“Did you see the ‘Great Hall?’” Pontus asked, leaning in, eagerly awaiting the answer.

“I think I was about to… but…”

Pontus grew concerned after hearing that last word, his brows narrowing as the expression on his friend’s face grew more wretched.

“...I fell, Pontus. I fell through the clouds and hit the ground harder than when you hit that Equine… I thought I was worthy to become one of the chosen. I mean, I even heard cheers of praise and joy when I arrived at the gates, but I guess I wasn’t, just like most of our kind.”

“Don’t think too much of it, Thistle. It was just a dream and it's unlikely that you’ll die anytime soon. Besides…” He left off, only continuing once his friend was making eye contact with him, “...we still have one hell of a life to lead; Conquering cities, creatures, plundering and raiding, all that fun stuff.”

Thistle scoffed at his words, unable to keep himself from chuckling, “You forgot tavern fights and drunken nights, Pontus.”

“I knew I was forgetting something,” He smiled, laughing alongside Thistle moments later. But as their laughter drowned out the sounds of crackling fire, the sudden rustling and disturbance of bushes compelled them to cease and jump up from their spots with weapons drawn.

But tensions and muscles eased alike the moment a large familiar being - carrying the shape much like their own - shot out of the woods, steam emitting from his head and eyes burning with fire.

“Captain?” They said in unison, ignoring the appearances of the other mercs, instead, maintaining their full attention on the Captain they watched him stomp straight to the cage, leaving deep marks into the dirt road.

Determined and clearly infuriated, the Captain unlocked the door before throwing it wide open. Ducking low and rushing in, he let out a primal roar from deep within himself, one that quaked the earth and sent the tarp flying from the top of the cage, granting a show to be observed by his mercs, free of charge of course.

“Come here!” He yelled to the cowering Thestral, who was backing away from the Captain, though it would serve her no good, for the moment he rear made contact with the corner of the cage, the Captain shot his talon to her mane, grabbing a talon-full of hair before pulling on it like a leash, dragging the miniscule Equine outside with ease.

Her screams of pain, and pleads to stop filled the air. Evergriff watched as she tried to bash her captors talon in hopes of forcing him to let go, though it went to no effect.

Now throwing her out of the cage, he glanced at Thistle and Pontus who were walking to him, bombarding him with questions he wasn’t too keen on answering at the moment for he had more pressing concerns to deal with.

“Please…” The Thestral started weakly, receiving the attention of the Captain. Tears taking form from her eyes, she looked up to the massive griffon, “...please… d-don’t hurt me…”

Undeterred by such expressions and pitiful words, the Captain grabbed the Thestral by the neck before lifting her up in the air. The mercs watched in silence as their Captain placed an immense amount of pressure on her slender neck, “What have you done Thestral? What monstrosity have you prayed to come save you?”

The Captain alleviated his iron grip, allowing the Thestral to somewhat breath and barely give back an answer, “W-what… -ack- -alking about.”

His anger consuming him, the Captain roared as he swung about with the mare in tow, slamming the back of her body against the iron cage before intensifying the pain he was inflicting upon her, “Don’t play dumb with my you filthy Equine!” He demanded, bringing her forward slightly before slamming her into the cage once more, “Half my company is gone because of the monstrosities that have been sent to reclaim you!”

“Captain!” Thistle shouted, gaining his superiors attention. The lesser griffon noticed the life being strangled out of the Equine as she struggled to pry away the griffon's talons with her hooves, “The merchandise… Our paycheck.”

“What does it matter?! She’s going to die either way, be it at our talons or our employer’s. The only difference is that our’s will be quick and painless, while his will be slow and painful - after she’s been used up and ruined of course, inside and out.” The Captain stated harshly before returning his attention to the mare, “Now talk you damn Equine!”

Fear filled the thestral as she looked into the Captain’s eyes, he was consumed by blind rage; willing to break the very rules he was meant to enforce in order to get the answers he sought for.

The thestral’s sight of the world around her began to darken, her struggling grew weak, becoming almost non-existent.

Please… Father… somepony… help me…

In the opening moments of when her life began to leave her body, her ears perked up upon hearing a series of whistles and tranquil humming alike.

The Captain’s eyes were drawn to his right upon hearing the same sounds the thestral heard. And the moment his mind processed what he was looking at, he released the thestral in an instant, allowing her to fall to the ground and granting her a chance to recover.

Coughing and wheezing, the little thestral desperately tried to push herself off the ground. Her shaky legs tried to push her body up, only to give in once she made it a quarter of the way.

Ignoring the seemingly lifeless Equine body left on the ground, the Captain gathered the remains of his unit, each of them drawing their weapons, however shakily, as they prepared to face the entity before them.

There, floating about the centre of the dirt road, was a purple spherical ball of cosmic light. From a distance, it’s form looked to be consumed by ghastly purple flames whilst also emitting purple sparks of energy.

It’s form surged and died down in sync with its tunes, seemingly eternally locked in a battle between light and dark; for its presence alone burned away the darkness whilst also having its light consumed by it.

“W-what is that?”

“By Dyauspitah…”

“I-I’ve never seen anything like that…”

As the griffons contemplated their own lives at seeing such a majestic sight. A purple miasma creeped into the area, washing over and enveloping everything in the general vicinity.

An aura of cold dread, fear, despair and discontent filled the atmosphere. These emotions grew so strong, that one could taste and smell them from a kilometre away.

And possibly revel in their negativity…

The wall of armour and flesh slowly shuffled back with their tail falling in between their legs.

The only exception of the group being the Captain, who remains steadfast and devoid of fear despite the circumstances he found himself in.

“Muster your courage griffons!” He said, voice unbreaking, “We have faced far worse beings than some sparkling ball of light.”

“B-but sir-“

“I don’t have time for your beak son. Prepare yourselves!”

“But Captain! Look at it…”

The Captain did look back at the floating light, but not at the demand of his subordinate, but at the sudden sounds of magical sparks that seemed to grow violent with every passing second.

“What… is it doing?” Came the question of the Captain, as he observed the entity from a distance.

The entity appeared to be growing in power.

The magical streaks of it emitted from its form grew more erratic; more unstable. While it’s flaming form surged with energy, becoming a burning beacon of light for all the world to see.

But before they could observe it any longer, the entity emitted a brief flash of blinding light - a light so immensely powerful that it could have illuminated the night sky - compelling them to bring their forelegs up to shield their eyes.

The mercs were blinded from all that laid around them, leaving them openly vulnerable to a fatal strike if one desired it, but it seemed no one had this in mind, for fate had a different path for them to take.

In the moments when the light died down enough for them to grant each pair of their purple eyes a moment of respite to recover and adjust in order to get a grasp of their surroundings, they were only left bewildered and puzzled as they registered what now laid around them.

The miasma.

They had been consumed by it.

There was nothing in sight for their gaze to lock onto.

There was no night sky, no moon, no forest, nothing… The only things that were there were them and the miasma, that is all.

“Where are we?” A griffon asked, turning about on the spot whilst remaining huddled close to his comrades.

“I can’t see anything… Can you guys see anything?

“No… not a thing…”

“This ain’t right… something’s wrong here…”

“Shut it!” Demanded the Captain as he glanced to his quivering subordinates, “Where’s the Equine? Does anygriff have eyes on her?”

…

The mercs were hit with a moment of eerie silence, as they expected any other griffon but them to speak up and pass their leader an answer, only to receive none.

“I guess that’s a no.” Pontus unnecessarily remarked who in turn received an elbow from Thistle.

“A-actually Captain,” A merc spoke up, “I think she was still somewhere behind us when that… thing showed up.”

“Alright, then that’s where we’re heading. We get her, then we fly out of this mess.” The Captain paused, turning about and pointing deeper into the miasma, “Keep an eye out everygriff! We move slowly.”

Some mercs nodded, acknowledging his orders while others simply remained silent and still. Eventually, a griffon took the first steps forward, breaking formation with his comrades following suit.

The Captain remained in the middle of the group, diligently coordinating his soldiers movements and adjusting their formation as required.

In the end, the formation took the shape of a diamond; one that constantly altered its shape and covered most of their zones with their flanks covered.

Sounds of metallic impacts emanating from their armour made themselves known as the griffons cautiously walked in one direction with weapons drawn and muscles tensed. Their hastened breaths and racing hearts were testing their resolve, even more so for the younger warriors of the group.

But then came the immediate stop of one of the mercs who led the group, “Hold up.” He said, holding up his talon.

The others heeded with his request; stopping and keeping a pair of vigilant eyes out for any signs of trouble.

“Do you see something?” The Captain asked, remaining in the centre of the formation, “Is it the Equine?”

“No, but… does anygriff hear that?” The point-griffon asked, prompting every other merc to listen for anything out of the ordinary.

They all remained silent, some even holding their own breaths.

…

But there was nothing.

The griffon in the rearguard did his best to maintain his will and keep his own morale high. Through the acts of emanating prayers from his beak and constantly reminding himself what laid beyond this mortal life if he were to fight and die without breaking.

With his sword at-the-ready, his gaze shifted from left to right and from right to left. He scanned his zone with care, not daring to spare a glance to his sides instead entrusting his comrades to cover his flanks as he will cover theirs.

Time had seemingly slowed down around him as he scanned his zone once more, his eyes catching a glimpse of a dark griffon-like figure. The figure appeared to carry the frame of a female griffon, more slender and smaller than the male counterparts.

The merc opened his beak to bellow out a call to his fellow mercs, but stopped upon being hit with a feminine voice that was beautiful and could soothe and tame the wildest beast.

“Gyules~” She sang, the voice compelling the eyes of the male to widen to an abnormal size in response.

That voice… I know that voice…

“...Clio?” Gyules whispered, his voice shaking much like the weapons in his talons, “Is that you?”

Gyules eagerly waited for a response; to hear that bewitching voice once more to soothe his pounding heart.

“Yes, it is me my dearest beloved. Come, I wish to embrace you myself, but away from prying eyes…”

With his heart and mind latched onto the hook that was her words, Gyules couldn’t possibly resist.

Nodding earnestly, Gyules impatiently ran headfirst into the miasma, his mind absent from the task he was supposed to carry out.

Clio’s dark form only seemed to be moving further away as Gyules got closer and closer. Everytime he thought he would break through the miasma and meet his beloved, he was only met with disappointment and frustration as forelegs met nothing solid to embrace and love.

But after countless tries, he would finally confront what he had sought for…

Before Gyules stood a beauty of a griffon, carrying features and traits he would eternally cherish and love.

“Clio?” He whispered with much disbelief, the dams in his eyes on the verge of breaking, “I-is that you?”

His beloved simply smiled and slowly flared out her wings, upon noticing his tearing eyes beginning to wander all over her slender body.

“Has it been so long that you have forgotten what I look like dear beloved?”

Gyules shook his head, the hold he had on his sword going weak in her presence, persuading him to drop it, “No… I’m just… surprised to see you here; in front of me.” The male paused for a brief moment, lost for words to pass onto Clio, but after a few moments he was able to find them and speak his mind with a breaking voice and an aching heart, “H-how are you here? I thought I- no… I know I saw you-”

The male was silenced in an instant the moment he felt a digit on his beak. His own eyes locked onto hers, and within them, he could see himself, breaking down in front of her.

Clio hushed him softly, cupping his cheek with a talon before closing the distance between their faces, “Does it matter, my love? I’m here now and I’ll always be beside you, now and forever…”

Hearing such promises, Gyules could do little but smile ear to ear before moving in for a warm and tender kiss to implant her beak. Feelings of warmth and affection filled his insides, it felt like his spirit was being robbed by the act. However, much to his disappointment, the kiss did not last forever, for she found herself pulling away moments later, preferring to nuzzle his tear soaked cheek but with the addition of a soft whisper emanating from her beak and a malicious smile behind his ear.

“You know… you can take that armour off now… darling.”

“Hear what?” Came the first few voices in response to the sound of silence.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“I think those Zebra potions are having an affect on him.”

Then came the Captain, “What did you hear, son?”

The point-griffon took a moment to respond, most likely contemplating on what he had seemingly heard but the others haven’t.

“Voices… it sounded like… voices.”

“Can you describe them?”

The griffon nodded, “Yeah, they sound like… creatures… males, females, children even. They sound so familiar… I-I’ve heard them somewhere before…but where?”

Such a description drew the concern of his comrades, getting many quick brief glances from them.

They will not be given the chance to forge their own thoughts on the matter as something more pressing received everygriff’s attention in an instant as a shout rang out from the rear of the formation.

“Hey… where’s Gyules?!” A griffon exclaimed, shocked and surprised at the sudden absence of a fellow griffon.

But the moment the other mercs had processed what was said, a pain-filled cry was howled towards the heavens from the rear of the formation, drawing all the different coloured irises in that direction.

The cry lasted more than a few seconds at the most, striking fear into the hearts of the griffons, but in the opening moments of when the cries ceased to exist, an object was thrown towards them, landing just a metre away from one of the mercs before the momentum carried it before their paws.

Intrigued, the merc took a knee to examine the object. With a shaky talon, the mercs reached out for the shadowed object, but it only took a few moments for him to utter a gasp before stumbling a few steps back as soon as he realised what it was.

It was a helmet. One that was bloodied and dented from unknown sources.

It didn’t take a genius to guess who it once belonged to.

“I think we got our answer…” Pontus spoke up, holding his spear close to his armoured form. His heart - and those of his comrades - was starting to pound at a rhythm and beat that matched war drums, which thunder and quake a roaring battlefield with their fury; inspiring courage to one side whilst inspiring terror on the other.

Within mere seconds, the Captain felt an ominous sensation within himself, prying into both his mind and heart. The situation was quickly turning against them and he knew it, but to break now would be a death sentence for all of them, however if they all remained strong-

“What the-“ Came the words from a fearful and anxious griffon from the rear, who, upon turning found that three of his comrades were missing, including the point-griffon, “Where’s-”

This merc wasn’t spared a chance to voice his question out, for a number of torturous screams sung out to their gods, pulling the Captain out of his own thoughts.

The mercs attempted to pinpoint a general direction from where it came from, but their echoing cries sounded like they originated from all sides of the faltering formation.

“Defensive formation! Now!” The Captain ordered, knocking the thoughts of retreat out of their minds.

The griffons under him responded in an instant, their sense of discipline taking their very own bodies to form a circle around their fearless leader with their weapons pointed out in every direction.

With this formation of flesh that was estuned in metal suits, each of their zones were covered whilst the Captain would coordinate their efforts from the centre.

They were ready… well… with the exception of one that is. One with early mature features and who was subconsciously and swiftly pacing back and forth outside of the formation in a frantic state, leaving himself vulnerable to whatever horrors that existed in the miasma.

The Captain saw the way he had walked back and forth; head craning in all directions as if he were searching for something that wasn’t there, hindlegs taking minor and major steps alike with no coordination whatsoever, and talons that waved his sword wildly with no thought as he constantly swung his quivering body around.

There was no doubt about it.

He was losing it.

He was succumbing to his fears and his terrors, he was being consumed by them.

“Don’t even think about it, son!” The Captain warned, but his words have appeared to have been ignored or gone unheard.

Other’s from the group called out to him as well; advising, pleading, begging him to return to the fold though it seemed to have gone in vain.

“Oh this ain’t right…” The faltering merc shouted hysterically, “W-we, we have to get out of here. We have to get out of here!” He ended with panicked breaths as he flared his wings and took flight, breaking line of sight with the Captain.

“Wait, you fool!” The large griffon yelled, reaching out to his obscures form with an open talon. And before anygriff could muster the chance to do anything to prevent his death, the fleeing merc was forcibly pulled by some unforeseen force back to earth and deeper into the heart of the miasma.

Regretful silence held a tight leash on the remaining merc’s tongues as their comrade screamed for his life. Then came ear cringing sounds of metal being shredded, flesh tearing, bones breaking, body burning.

The gurgling sounds of death echoed throughout, replacing his screams and his pleading for life. The gurgling, cackling and bubbling, one that closely resembled the actions of blowing air through a straw that resides in a cup of water.

It was rather fortunate for the living mercs, despite the obscurity and the uncertainty the miasma enforced upon them, most of them were rather thankful that they didn’t have to witness his death as it sounded almost… monstrous… in nature.

And whatever monstrosity caused that… savage and animalistic death seemed to have its sights on them next.

The combined sounds of snarling and growling slowly began to make their appearance, alongside a series of distorted whispers that spoke in an unknown tongue; Haunting their mortal forms, vexing their unclean minds and cursing their corrupted souls.

Little did they know that they were simply reaping the monster’s malediction.

They sensed Death’s Bell looming over their heads. His cold, unforgiving scythe at their necks ready to collect their dues.

Each of them felt their ends approaching; the final chapter of their stories that’ll never see the light of day, and it began where it always must, with the grueling silence before battle.

These remaining mercs stood their ground and held firm in spite of the overwhelming amount of fear that was claiming all but one of their hearts.

The only things preventing the dishonourable act of retreating was their Captain at their backs and the faith that burned brightly inside their hearts alongside a single phrase repeatedly playing in their minds.

‘I may tremble, but I must not flee.’

Some may have whispered prayers upon their beaks, requesting their Gods to bless them with divine strength and courage to overcome what horrors laid beyond.

Although it seemed their prayers would go unanswered…

A series of faint steps moving a mediocre pace suddenly announced their presence.

They grew louder and louder, drawing closer and closer with every passing second, and from their quickened jog, the mercs were able to pick up their clumsy thumping beats of their steps, as well as the clattering sounds of metal plates making contact with one against one another.

Naturally these mercs came up with their own deductions about what they might be dealing with, but before anygriff was granted the chance to speak their minds, an obscured, shadowed griffon-like figure took shape in the miasma.

Bellowing with fury and unmatched hatred, and carried by its momentum from running, it broke through the miasma upon leaping towards their tightly packed formation with a sword raised high above its head, ready to swiftly bring down and cut down the mercs.

“Scatter!” The Captain yelled, exploiting his free limbs to push whoever he could out of the strike zone before shifting his body into a defensive stance and bringing his own sword up to take the blow.

Getting into position with just a moment to spare, alone he took in the full blow of the strike, his massive muscled mass absorbed every bit of kinetic energy the shadowed figure had mustered up.

And within that miniscule time frame, as his body prepared to exhaust some his energy in order to push off the strike, he managed to get a brief but good look at his attacker.

It's dark corporeal griffon body looked nothing like the being they were supposed to resemble.

Its lower fur coat and upper feathered layers were as pitch black as coal, emanating a dark aura that reeked of death and plague from its back and from the end of its tail.

The pair of eyes it had were soulless by appearance alone, bearing the blood red colours of its victims with no trace of its irises in sight.

The armour it wore was pitch black and as dark as the abyss, sporting curved spikes on its vambraces, pauldrons and its helmet, giving off an intimidating devilish appearance alongside the hellish red glow that emanated from within the gaps of the dark armour.

Although the Captain uttered a minor grunt from his beak, he managed to push off the hellspawn without much effort, sending it back a good metre or so.

“WHAT IS THAT THING!?” A griffon shouted out as he reformed himself into a fighting stance.

“It doesn’t matter!” The Captain declared, catching sight of many more of its kind rushing their position from both ground and air, “It shall fall and perish like all our foes!”

Now raising his sword high above his head, the towering griffon bellowed out a primal eagle-like war-cry from deep within his diaphragm before pointing his sword at the charging enemy.

The moment the Captain’s war-cry graced the ears of his subordinates, they instinctively let out their own before charging the enemy head on with fire in their bellies and adrenaline pumping through their veins.

The mercs who held crossbows within the grasps of their talons remained where they stood, choosing to bombard the enemy in hope of thinning out the herd before their comrades were engaged in brutal close quarters combat.

Unfortunately for them, they only managed to get a few shots off before being forced to cease and switch to the hostile aerial units, lest they risk hitting their own already outnumbered warriors who had harshly crashed into the enemy.

The mercs fought tooth and nail, offering them nothing but blood, toil, tears and sweat. But much to their dismay, or perhaps to their enjoyment, these dark griffons fought as hard as they did, fighting for every millimetre of ground and not taking a single step back.

Even these red-eyed warriors voiced out phrases and barked out orders, but it came out rather distorted and somewhat echoey, practically unintelligible in the end, leaving the mercs clueless to their words.

And despite the soulless appearance they had and the daemonic armour they sported, the pitch black figure fell and bled just like they did; Tainting the ground with a black tar-like substance before biting the dust and meeting their maker in whatever abominable dimension they existed in.

This once peaceful area was defiled by the sounds of battle; metal upon metal, pain-filled cries, grunting and crossbow bolts whizzing by.

The ground was desecrated by blood of red and black, while tainted by the bodies of fallen warriors from both sides.

And to think that somewhere within the midst of this roaring battlefield… was a little thestral…

Light returning to the thestral eyes, she regained consciousness slowly, her mind beginning to register the tremendous amount of stress and strain on her neck.

As her life slowly returned to her form, her body immediately took the chance to recover and take in as much air as possible. She coughed, spit and wheezed, her lungs rapidly expanding and contracting as she did so.

In these moments, as her once blurred sight returned to her amber irises, the first thing she noticed was the ghastly miasma that had engulfed her and everything around her, sparing nothing.

Though her ability to see was hindered by a great length, her disoriented mind was able to catch glimpses of several obscured bulky figures making quick but precise movements.

After catching sight of a few more figures battling with instruments of death before her very eyes, the horrendous sounds of battle and war raged, torturing her ears, forcing an instinct to flee to overwhelm her.

Fearing the consequences of remaining, her mind and body begged her to flee the area as soon as she could.

After granting herself a brief moment of respite, the thestral used what little strength that had slowly returned to her in an attempt to push herself off the ground and onto her hooves once more.

But despite the pleading of her kind and body, the thestral lacked the resolve to push through the aching pain that held onto her body.

Grunting with every struggle, the mare rose halfway with a weak set of shaky legs, and without the mental strength to push through, she unfortunately collapsed on her stomach, leaving her back to where she had started.

It was then in this grim moment, tears that gleamed in the beauty of the moonlight began to break from her eyes. The dam that once held back the flood, now breaking from an overwhelming amount of pressure, releasing the first few tears and allowing them to roll down her furry cheeks.

All she could do in this very moment was muster the little strength and energy she had to bring her forelegs over her eyes with a slow addition of her leathery wings as well.

Father… I’m so sorry… I never should’ve left…

With the concept of hope left her mortal form, she was unable to avoid the internal conjuration of wishes, regrets and apologies as she cried to her heart’s content, announcing her emotional and physical pain in the form of sobbing to those nearby.

The broken thestral cried for what felt like hours, but not for much longer.

It was then a series of euphonious tunes and harmonic humming reached out to her, compelling her own pair of ears to immediately perk up in the presence of its invisible musical notes.

The combined humming and the gentle tunes quickly eased her sobbing, leaving her nothing to do but slowly remove her wings and hooves from her face and shifting her head to the left at a snail's pace.

And what she saw on the other end must’ve been something that rivaled a once in a lifetime experience, for the moment her head shifted to the left and her eyes and mind registered what she was staring at, a gasp emmanted from her ajared mouth as her own amber irises widened whilst simultaneously altering to a glowing purple.

The mere existence of cold fear and despair was erased from reality, allowing a warm feeling of hope and safety to take over.

On the opposite side facing her was a purple ball of spectral fire, emanating with purple streaks of light.

Is that a… wisp? But… that could only mean…

Then came a moment of clarity, as she realised what this momentous occasion meant to her, to her clan, to Ponykind as a whole.

The wisp hummed to her again, alluring the thestral with its soothing songs.

It was then a sudden urge to make a break for it claimed her; to make a daring dash to freedom in order to leap into their warm and loving embrace.

Seemingly sensing the shattered state her body was in, the wisp blessed her with a gift.

From naught but thin air, a purple aura made up of an energy that closely resembled its user, enveloped her Equine form like a personal barrier.

In mere milliseconds of the manifestation of the aura, the pain that held an iron grip on her mind became naught. Her own strength even returned to her, granting her the capability to rise up from the dirt and take the first few steps to the promise of safety with a miniscule smile about her face.

These steps were slow and - in a way - lacked focus as she stumbled and tripped on her way.

Her attention remained solely on the wisp, not even sparing a moment to look down at her hooves to concentrate on her uncoordinated walk or take heed to the skirmish occuring around her.

It was only her, and the ever alluring wisp.

After passing many obscured figures who quickly disappeared into the miasma just as fast as they emerged from it, a loud voice snapped her out of her trance.

“Hey!” Came an aggressive shout from behind, sending all alarms going off in her body, forcing her to attempt to make a break for it.

But she didn't make it far, gasping as she felt a sudden tug and a hard pull of her tail, sending her back into talons of her captors in a dazed and fallen state.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” The merc said, flipping her fallen form onto her back before planting his talon on the tuft of her chest.

Feeling an immense amount of weight on her chest, so heavy that she felt parts of her vital internal organs being pressured by her own very rib cage.

With the situation looking very grim and growing more desperate by the second, the thestral reacted in a way to flee the confines of the talon. Opening a gaping void that was her mouth whilst barring a pair of white sharp fangs, she swiftly brought them down into the griffon’s talon, prompting him to release her in an instant.

The moment she felt the weight of the talon leave her and hearing a brief cry of pain, she rolled back onto her hooves before bolting towards the wisp who appeared to be waiting for her.

It only continued to fly through the miasma in intricate paths after she had caught up, leading the thestral away from the most intense parts of the battlefield into the more… ‘calmer’ parts.

As the presence of obscured warring figures became completely absent in her vicinity, a sense of eagerness and relief washed over her.

The promise of safety and salvation for her and her kind was at the tips of her hooves.

All that remained to be done was for her to simply follow the wisp to the promised land.

Or so she thought…

Electrical signals shot straight up to her mind upon feeling a foreign body penetrate her left hindleg, forcing liquid crimson to run down it.

The mare cried out in sheer agony, halting her journey for a chance to steal a glance at her wound and what could’ve caused it.

Inside, lodged deep inside her callow flesh was a wooden rod with a metallic arrowhead coated in red.

As it was a bad time to freeze up in a dangerous area, the thestral winced with every attempt to move the injured leg. With a clenched jaw, she continued after the wisp with her injured hindleg with a bit of a hop in her movements, doing her best to keep it off the ground lest she be forced to experience the burning pain of her torn flesh.

Sensing her need for aid, the wisp once again emerged from the confines of the miasma, stopping just short of her muzzle before moving to examine her injury.

Though before it was provided a chance to remedy the issue before it, he wisp set its gazed with its non-existent eyes to the direction from which they came. Its once harmonic tunes shifted into more discordant and unmelodious one as its form altered into a more violent, unstable state; emitting sparks that mirrored conjoined musical notes that was written by a mad man who held no concept of musical theory.

Mustering the strength to contain itself, the wisp held back its destructive urges in favour of prioritising its charge and guardian duties.

Turning about to lock eyes with the mare, it gestured with its form for her to continue forward, as well as enveloping one of her forelegs in a purple aura and lightly tugging it in that same direction.

Seemingly getting the message the wisp was attempting to convey, the thestral obediently nodded before proceeding to move at a slow, sluggish pace while her guardian became naught as it disappeared in the miasma, leaving scorched spots and a trail upon the earth as its destructive urge returned.

“She’s getting away!” A faceless merc shouted, who made an attempt to give chase only to be obstructed by a talon that leaked with red liquid from a pair of holes.

“No she’s not…” The minorly wounded griffon claimed boldly, loading his crossbow with a bolt that was coated in an unknown green substance.

With his crossbow locked and loaded, the griffon blindly took aim, internally visualising and predicting where the thestral’s body would be at this point in time.

After taking in quick breaths, he made a move to pull the trigger only to have his bolt’s projectile path suddenly thrown off target as his crossbow was forced down by a talon.

“What are you doing?!” The faceless mercenary demanded to know, forcing an immense amount of weight on the crossbow.

Faced with an enraged comrade who was angered by his actions, he opened his beak to explain his actions with hopes of calming his brother-in-arms, but a brief feminine cry of pain silenced him in an instant.

Smiling, the wounded griffon pulled his crossbow away from his comrade, “Don’t worry about it,” He assured in a calm tone, “She won’t get far.”

Growling, the faceless mercenary shoved his ally with an unoccupied talon, “But why are you firing blindly in this fog?! The job was to bring her in alive!”

“You heard the Captain. Her dying here would make no difference for she dies either way, be it through far more merciful means by us compared to what our employer has in for her.”

“But there’s a bonus to bring her in alive you fool! That’s why the Captain had Pontus knock her out in the first place!”

“She dies here or she escapes,” The wounded griffon countered, “Would you rather have our guild lose its reputation and payment, or would rather get somewhat paid when we return her lifeless body.”

His comrade was unable to muster a reply however, for a cacophony of ear-cringing and discordant instruments screeched and screamed in their presence, instanously overwhelming their hearing and outright deafening them both in the process.

Their attempt to block out the inharmonious racket that made their brain throb and pound with every passing second were in vain, for even if their ear drums were blown out, their minds simply became the next target.

They both fell to their knees screaming as they each struggled to endure the many haunting voices that only grew stronger as a familiar entity appeared before them in a much more violent state.

“Feel our wrath!”

“Suffer and perish heretic!”

“Burn, vile xeno!”

“Die! Die! Die!”

As the mare walked with a bit of a hop in her step in an attempt to avoid using her injured leg, and although her injury was a pressing concern that was reserved in her head, she couldn’t help but wonder where the wisp had gone and what actions it had set out to do.

And in the opening moments of when such thoughts were conjured in her head, it seemed that they would be answered, though rather vaguely for, originating from behind, quite a fair distance away from herself, came a pair of voices that sung the choir to their destruction - to their end - to the heavens above, though how their lives came to an end left more… creative minds to fill in the blanks.

But however it may have ended, however the final chapter of their stories came to a close, those tortured cries that made her ears find themselves splayed back against her head left no doubt that… their end… was indeed…

Painful.

While the mare was unable to prevent herself from imagining what unbearable consequences her asailents brought upon themselves, a burning and stinging sensation surfaced atop of her already wounded leg that drove her to seeth deeply through her teeth.

Even though the constant burning and stinging sensations in her leg infested her thoughts, she pushed on, disregarding the pain as something that would not need immediate treatment and regarding it as something that can be pushed aside until later.

After spending a minute - one that felt like a lifetime - of aimless walking, the thestral managed to break free from the grasp of the miasma.

Like everypony, she would take this chance to take in as many deep breaths as possible whilst gazing at the beautiful night sky, but a sudden affliction of weakness took her.

Within seconds, panic took hold as her legs struggled to support her own body, her heart rate began to slow and everything she could lay her eyes upon became naught but a blur.

Moments later, she fell to the ground, limbs refusing to respond to her commands despite every effort to keep herself standing.

She wanted to scream for help, she wanted to cry out for the wisp to come save her and bring her home, but all that left her mouth was incoherent mumbling and groaning.

Unable to utter anything meaningful, she resorted to the thoughts in her mind - the only path that allowed her to forge words that actually meant something.

Please come save me… Don’t leave me here alone…

As everything around her slowly faded away, and the sounds of her beating heart slowed down, images of her young life flashed in front of her faster than the speed of light.

With her eyelids coming to a close, inviting nothing but darkness to her sight, a single image was left imprinted in her head.

One among few that’ll possess a permanent and special place within her.

The wisp that had brought her salvation and the harmonious songs it bestowed upon her, persuading a weak smile to take shape.

Battle continued to rage within the miasma, the sounds of violence and unchecked aggression only seeming to intensify with every passing second, the sheer ferocity and barbarity of the griffons remaining as strong as ever.

Pontus and Thistle appeared to be in the thick of the action, eagerly shouting out numbers with each fatal blow they dealt towards their dark foes.

“Hahaha! Thistle!” Pontus called out, holding up a sharp digit, “One already!”

“I’m on two!” Thistle boasted, parrying an incoming strike before bashing his attacker in the beak and thrusting his sword into him, “Make that three!”

“What!?” Pontus exclaimed with disbelief, “I’m not letting some runt-born griffon outscore me!”

The motivated griffon then sent a kick into a dark griffon's precious jewels - a nasty move that surprisingly worked - before thrusting his spear into its throat while it kept a tight hold on its groin region.

“Dirty move.” Thistle commented, parrying another strike, redirecting the sword of his opponent to the ground and locking it in position before sending a chained blunt assault consisting of a knee to the chest and an elbow towards its dark face.

“If it means I will be drinking for free tonight, then how they die is of no concern to me.”

Keeping true to his word, he unleashed several cheap tricks upon his enemies, dirt thrown in their faces, poking/scratching their eyes out or even backstabbing those who were preoccupied with his allies, taking their would-be kills for his own.

But as the lifeless bodies of griffons continued to hit the ground, bloodied, bruised and broken, the unnatural purple irises of the mercs faded away, reverting back to their original colour as the miasma that devoured them slowly began its retreat, leaving the area entirely and returning their sight to them in the process.

One would expect this event to be met with cheers and a reinvigorated spirit for bloodlust and glory, yet nothing of the sort occurred. Instead, the sounds of battle ceased in an instant, being replaced by shocked gasps, weapons falling to the earth and mournful sobbing.

The many bodies of those dark griffons were absolved of the blackness of their corporeal forms, lifting a nonexistent veil from the eyes of the mercs, revealing unto them several traits that would be an insult if they themselves were unable to recognise them.

Fur coats and layered feathers of brown, white and grey, similarly styled armour matching their own with weapons to match and the many familiar faces branded into their minds from months or even years of serving alongside them.

Their comrades.

Their brother-in-arms that were slain by their very own talons.

Their brothers from different mothers that promised to watch out for each other in every single battle they faced.

All either lying face first in the dirt, to the stars or even to their own killers.

Even those once dark griffons were speechless, most collapsing to their knees before bringing their blood-stained talons to their faces, leaving the blood of their comrades marked upon them.

From here on, only a single phrase was played in an endless loop within their mind as they struggled to endure the ruthless onslaught of psychological trauma this single battle enforced upon them.

“W-what… what have I done…?”

Author's Note

I don't think it was my best work, but feel free to criticise and comment. I'm always looking for ways to improve :twilightsmile:

Chapter XII - Sacred and Profane Part I

There existed an unequal amount of groaning and moaning under the dreaded night sky, alongside the sounds of flesh scraping themselves along dirt, exposed tree roots and edged, uneven stones alike.

If an individual were nearby, the assumption and the thought of a serial killer or perhaps a monster that was lurking nearby would be the first thing that would come to their anxious mind, as it dragged their victims to their den - in whole or broken - all whilst whistling or humming a rather hypnotic, soothing tune and dancing to the sways of the trees.

Light soon returned to one of these victims, opening his eyes to a blurred environment that was seemingly on the move. The instant his sight adjusted and became clear, he took a moment to get a bearing of his surroundings and of the current situation he found himself in.

Looking down, he found that his limbs were enveloped in some sort of ominous purple aura; His talons, wings and paws were bound together, restricting their movement and preventing any chance of escape.

His lower half appeared to be suspended up in the air, while his other half endured the sensation of being dragged along the ground like filthy garbage.

His form was devoid of his bulwark of metal and his sword was absent from his sheath, leaving him practically defenceless. And much to his annoyance, whatever was dragging him seemed to find some joy in dragging him near jagged rocks or sharp thorns or whatever harsh terrain he was to endure now that his flesh was exposed and vulnerable.

In this situation, he was obligated to feel concerned about his well-being and whether he was going to make it out of this predicament or not, but the nearby singing and humming seemed to have a hand in preventing him from falling into a panicked state and keeping his nerves in check.

That singing… I heard that somewhere before…

In complete silence, though except for the attempts of stifling his cries as his body made harsh contact with nature around him, he got a look of his surroundings in hopes of finding where the singing was originating from.

Slowly craning his head to his left, there was nothing of interest but the commonality of nature itself and the sanctity it provided if left untouched by the hands of sapient life.

Though upon looking to the right, he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as he found two other familiar griffons who were in the same boat as him - one of them being the Kid, the other being his battle buddy.

They - much like him - were bound and being dragged around the area in the same manner.

There would’ve been an attempt to convey a message to his comrades, but unconscious griffons don’t tend to be great conversationalists.

But even if they were awake, there would be no time to spare for planning and talk, for his eyes were graced with a change in scenery as he was dragged towards a large clearing of forest.

A large, imposing stone structure sat upon a small hill, asserting its authority and dominance to the ends of the land. Its bulwark was made of chiselled stone, it had a pointed arch that only seemed to have contributed to its colossal height and mesmerising stained-glass images that were somewhat visible via the strength and power of its interior lighting.

Purple beings of spectral fire patrolled the building in complicated patterns, circling around the building like a flock of ravens in hopes of getting a chance to vex nearby intruders with their curses.

As if the building didn’t give off a grim atmosphere with its foreboding presence alone, its occupants had decided that it needed some sort of atmospheric ambience in case more dim or perhaps jolly individuals didn’t get the message they were trying to convey.

From within the structure, resonating in sync with its interior lighting, came chants in a foreign tongue that rose to a crescendo with an accompanying sombre set of tolling bells and church organs.

The chanting started off in a melancholic melody mixed with immense sorrows that spewed with a sense of mourning? ...and perhaps the absence of hope? That is until it progressed into something more… dark, sinister… driven.

The mercenary swallowed whatever bravery he had left as his mind flashed back to that crimson field they found the Kid in, or what was left of him, considering the state of his mental health when he was discovered.

But the disturbance of nature that gradually grew louder with every step persuaded him to look back down, feasting his eyes on a bipedal figure who appeared to the griffon in a way that was… abnormal and alarming to him.

Translucent purple wings that were far larger than that of the pegasi or griffons, a spike circle that glowed purple and sat around his head, and a mark between its ghastly purple eyes - a glowing white mark that seemed to have resembled a candelabrum or a candle tree.

Or perhaps it was just a figment of his imagination, for the moment he blinked, there were no such glowing additions to the creature’s body, though it didn’t mean the image had abandoned his mind either.

But with the chilling image branded into his mind for as long as he would live, in the same moment, a sense of familiarity was filling him.

‘I… think- no… I know I’ve heard of something like that before… but where?’

Though as hard he attempted to recall the memory, a masculine voice made itself known, drawing his undivided attention.

The creature seemed to be conversing with one of the purple flames. Speaking in a tongue that was impossible to ascertain, though spoken at a volume that was easy to overhear but not so loud as to disturb his unconscious comrades.

Maybe he was asking questions, to which the spectral flames answered or responded in the form of gentle humming or musical chimes.

However, out of all that conversation, there came two words he recognised instantly:

Equine and Griffon - Though the pronunciation of his species was butchered beyond all recognition.

But there he saw her; the thestral - who was enveloped in the same magics he was, except she seemed to get better treatment considering her form made no contact with the ground whatsoever.

The Equine looked to be asleep, but her grimacing face and the subtle wincing suggested she was in pain.

‘Wait… what is she doing here?’ The griffon mused to himself, confused and puzzled at her presence, ‘Shouldn’t she be back at the camp?’

Then came the conjuration of various scenarios that could have possibly led to her appearance here.

Naturally, none of them were good as he recalled the Kid’s words and the crimson field.

“... Monsters… It wants her…” He whispered aloud, lost in his mind as he started to connect the dots, only to be torn from it a second later as the conversation he was meant to be listening to fell silent.

It was only then he realised that the bipedal figure had set his gaze upon him, simply awaiting his reaction before beginning his approach.

The griffon attempted to make some distance between him and the creature, but a sudden immense amount of weight on all of his limbs prevented him from doing so.

Soon, he towered over the anchored quadruped, allowing a moment of realisation to strike him as he figured out what he was looking up at.

An ape…?

A small frown on his face quickly shifting into an expression filled with disgust and disdain.

“Wretched filth…” He remarked, revolted at the sight before him.

The ape then raised his knee up high, preparing to curb stomp the griffon into an unconscious state.

The griffon attempted to break free of the metal chains, but to no avail. Fully knowing that there was no getting out of this, he let out one last cry of defiance and anger, “Do your worst, freak!”

For a moment, he witnessed the creature give off a smirk of amusement before bringing his boot down unto his beak, delivering a force that sent him into the same state his comrades were in.

Apollyon stood over the now unconscious griffon mercenary, dusting himself off and straightening his shirt before turning about, grey baggy eyes noting an insurmountable amount of orange and red behind the manor as he set his attention on Regana and the thestral in her grasp.

The mare had seemingly gone through hell and immense torment; Her body displayed signs of physical trauma, and perhaps even so deep as to cause mental scarring.

Seeing her in such a foul state; bruised, cut, bloodied and mane unkempt, his hands clenched tightly, visualising them wrapping themselves around the throats of those responsible.

He would’ve remained in that state for a while, but with a brief flash of his glowing eyes and an aura surrounding his being, he found himself relinquishing his clenched fists; easing up and relaxing them into something more open.

“Give her to me,” He said, arms held out to receive the suffering mare, “I’ll take care of her while you seclude yourself and recover your strength.”

Regana obliged, emitting some chimes as she gently floated the thestral into his arms belly up, continuing to leave her aura around her wound whilst the rest of the body was deprived of it.

The moment she landed in his welcoming arms, he felt the burning heats of a dry desert from her body, her temperature only seemed to grow with every passing second.

He cradled her like a parent would to their beloved child while they were in their most vulnerable, undeveloped state.

“The pain will be over soon…” He soothed, moving to take a knee and place her on the grass, however, his gaze locked onto a gleaming amulet around her neck; a winged amulet that gained his immediate interest.

While his left arm and knee remained occupied supporting and evenly distributing her weight, Apollyon ran his thumb all over the amulet once it was in his grasp; feeling the feathered patterned engravings of the detailed wings.

“Intriguing… Don’t you think?” He said, hearing a chime of agreement coming from the side.

Now claiming the amulet from the unconscious mare, he held it in the palm of his hand, finding himself wanting to continue to contemplate on it for a bit longer, but another chime from Regana prevented it.

“Right…” He whispered shamefully, confining the amulet to the safety of his pockets as he was reminded of his duties.

Apollyon made a move to gently place the mare onto the grass below, but a sudden series of howls somewhere nearby stopped him from doing so.

Naturally, his gaze was drawn in that general direction, but as more and more wolves announced their presence near the domain of the manor, the upcoming ritual was reluctantly halted. With the threat of the daring wolves growing bolder, he sought refuge inside the manor.

Standing tall with the mare once again in his embrace, he moved to take a step forward, only to be preemptively stopped by Regana who yet conveyed another message in the form of humming, setting her non-existent eyes on the three mercenaries behind him.

The man spared the unconscious trio a glance, eyes remaining on them for a mere second before he had decided their fate.

“Imprison them in the cellar - it’s not an ideal place for them, but it’ll suffice for the time being.”

Regana chimed in response, letting him continue towards the manor so that he may absolve the mare of her unjustified torment.

The light of the sun shined upon the grey clouds that heavily congested the sky, but whether it was some divine act of Anima or some perfidious machinations of the Everfree, a decently sized section of the clouds broke apart, granting passage to a set of heavenly rays to rain upon Apollyon and his charge.

With divine rays raining its light and warmth on them, a pair of amber irises slowly revealed themselves as her eyelids cracked open.

Is that… the light? It’s so… warm… and beautiful…

Her delusional gaze shifted over to her saviour, whose face was obscured by a shade. But the proudly displayed purple halo around its head and a candelabra on its forehead left her to take a confident and well-educated guess.

... Lady Faust? Is that you? ... I-I am… so tired… my ‘Benevolent Lady’...

The Griffon Captain held up a torch in front of a large pyre that entombed many of his subordinates. He maintained an iron grip on the torch, threatening to snap in half as he stared at the lifeless warriors before him.

The pyre existed within the centre of the torn down ruins of their campsite, near the only road and far enough from the surrounding trees.

Its construction was made with the utmost care, consisting of wood, dead leaves and whatever dried grass they managed to find for its structure and stones of various shapes and sizes to surround the base with.

Encircling the pyre, just in front of the stones, were the weapons of the fallen, ranging from shortswords to longswords. The blades of these weapons were embedded into the ground, acting as a makeshift miniature armour stand for the fallen’s gear.

Their breastplates went over the pommel with a helmet placed on top while their greaves were laid out in front of the stand, one pair leaning on the stand itself and the other pair was put on display on the grass.

His heart grew heavy as the sun rose, warming their cold forms with its golden rays.

‘Let’s get this over with…’ He said to himself in silence, closing his eyes and sighing before turning about, facing those who still remained among the living.

The remnants of his company, broken in spirit, sat on their rear ends, heads low and talons holding their griffon shaped amulets.

He recognised the expressions they all mirrored, for it was undoubtedly familiar to him.

They may deny it, but he himself knew that deep within, each one of them wanted to weep aloud and mourn for their fallen brothers. But naturally, they refuse, choosing to withhold their true feelings lest they appear to be weak to those still living and to those above.

“As we commend our fallen brethren to the Divines; Their charred bodies to our Great Mother and their smoking remains to our Great Father…”

The Captain caught the eye of each one of them planting their beaks upon their amulets, leading him to do the same.

“We hope for nothing, but their well deserved eternal rest within the Great Halls of Vikuntham…” He left off this sentence, leaving the rest to be said by his subordinates.

“... And we wish for nothing but to one day be reunited with them…” They recited in unison, getting off their rears and standing-at-attention; wings tucked in, head held up high and a balled up talon placed diagonally across their chest.

With their part done, their superior turned about, placing the crackling torch upon the pyre with care before taking a few steps back.

With a heavy heart and lingering regret, each of them retreated into their minds - their worlds - recalling their memories with the fallen as they watched several specks of flames fall upon the dry materials and spread the life of fire throughout the pyre.

Staring into the flames for what seemed like an eternity, some or perhaps most of them witnessed the pyre the manifestation of… recognisable places inhabited by burning, life filled griffons - ones they drew out a sense of familiarity within them.

The actions and locations of these… ‘Images’ varied wildly, for instance. Some visualised peaceful places such as taverns, humble cottages or inns, while others saw places of conflict and battle; besieged cities and open battlefields were among them.

While some of these locations were somewhat similar to the next, what occurred in them was the only thing that set them apart from each other.

One scenario involved a cosy cottage with a humble family eating at a table with a special guest. They laughed, smiled and passed on witty remarks among each other.

The echoes of their laughter haunted this one’s ears, but… perhaps even more so with the emergence of the next scene.

One of the family members placed a talon on the guests shoulder, and mouthed words none but one could hear.

“Take care of my son, he has a bad habit of getting himself into trouble.”

The guest got up from his chair, before returning the gesture with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about him, sir. I’ll take care of him like I would my baby brother back in Griffonheim.”

Another scenario revealed a place of battle; a war torn field of fire filled with equines and griffons fighting. They slayed and were slain, the casualties of both sides were mounting, and the deaths were gruesome and brutal; such is the nature of war.

Then came the scene of a griffon who had fallen; was mere moments away from meeting his maker, but before the equine could deliver the deathblow, another griffon arrived, pushing the pony away and killing it without hesitation.

The saviour then turned to his fallen comrade and offered him a helping talon, pulling him onto his paws and talons before passing him his sword with an accompanying set of words, “That’s twice I’ve had to save your hide.”

“What? We’re keeping count now?”

“Well, somegriff has to, brother.”

“Pet names too?”

The saviour merely shrugged in response, shoving his ‘brother’ playfully before heading off, perhaps seeking his next victim to sink his thirsting blade into.

And then came another scenario, one showing a pair of griffons in a populated tavern. They ignored all the surrounding chatter, for they were simply lost in their conversation.

“One last job, huh? I think I’m a bit too young to retire and settle down… I don’t exactly have enough bits to last me…”

“Trust me. After this job, you won’t ever have to seek employment again. The pay is so great, you’ll be able to buy some land, build some property and settle down with my sister… She’s madly in love with you.”

“I know. You don’t have to tell me.”

Then came a moment of contemplating silence.

“So… what do you think? You in? Or am I going to have to find somegriff else?”

“Oh, I am definitely in, but… out of curiosity. What are we doing exactly?”

“The details will be given out tonight, but from what I’ve heard; we just have to foalnap some thestral mare. How hard could it possibly be?”

These recollections of memories, these exchange of broken promises, brotherhood and opportunities had hypnotised them. Each of them was filled to the brim with regret and sorrow.

As they loathed in self-pity, the Captain turned about, leaving the group in hopes of figuring out what to do next.

Alone, he arrived at the empty cage, the purpose of which switched from containment to merely being represented as a symbol.

A symbol of their humiliating failure.

“Damn it!” The Captain bellowed, furiously ramming a balled up talon to the cage’s bars, deforming it in the process before pacing back and forth, letting out his hate-filled rants, “I knew it! I knew it! This job just seemed too simple to be some simple foalnapping. Our client’s representative just had to ‘forget’ about informing us of whatever that unholy abomination was and of its ability to do whatever it did TO. MY. WARRIORS! Divines be damned!” He finished, sending another fist into the cage.

With his rant seemingly over, the Captain attempted to regain his composure; taking several deep breaths and removing his stinging talon from the cage.

As he subjected himself through this process, his attention was drawn to the side upon hearing movement and the subtle disturbances of grass, dirt and rock. Soon, he found himself staring at his remaining subordinates, one of whom came forward holding out an open brown leather bag filled halfway with the amulets and charms of the fallen.

Glancing from the objects to its holder, he saw the many emotions he and the others shared (except two): Hatred, anger, fury, wrathful.

He saw a need for revenge in each of their eyes, a need to avenge their comrades from whatever unholy monstrosity slayed them with full knowledge that they might- no, WILL die in the process.

And revenge he shall deliver.

“What’s the plan, boss?” A griffon spoke up, brandishing his weapon, showing his superior that he was ready to go at a moment's notice.

Others too followed his example, mere moments before their leader answered the question that was everygriffs mind with a series of swift and decisive actions.

Reaching into his marching pack that laid among the others of seemingly identical packs, he pulled out an object bearing a short, brass cylindrical form with one side being the largest segment compared to the rest. But the most alluring part of this object was the glass lenses, each with various runes and symbols etched into it.

The eyes of his subordinates flared up in understanding as he held up the apparent key to their vengeance.

And as if they knew what their leader wanted them to do next, as if it was fully expected of them, the griffons rushed to make preparations to travel; redistributing a recent surplus of crossbow bolts and bland food, leaving everything else that was deemed as unnecessary to be piled upon the crippled, primitive transportation device before setting it aflame.

Upon feeling a sudden increase in heat in the area and hearing another set crackling fire, their captain brought the object to his eye, granting himself a view of the world around him unlike any other.

A sight beyond sight.

A veil that has been lifted from their inferior eyes.

Around them, wandering about in the air was… fragments - pieces of glowing blue energy that came in mismatched shapes and forms. Though these fragments came abundant, they gave off no… significant presence.

It was weak. It was insignificant. It was - put simply… nothing… at least compared to its competitor.

Scanning the area more, his eye caught something that could only be described as irregular, abnormal, an anomaly.

Among the atmosphere of blue, existed a trail of purple that merely floated idly in the air, stretching from the treeline to the ends of the road.

Looking at this… anomaly made his heart sink into his stomach and his head pound with an accursed headache, but even when he granted himself a moment of respite through looking elsewhere, his form shivered, grew weak and even suffered from brief lightheadedness.

Was it a curse of some kind? A parting gift from the thing that attacked them last night?

However, if it was, then strangely enough, it did not seem to affect his subordinates, for they seemed to be completely unaffected by the anomaly’s curse; practically enjoying greater freedoms than he was at the moment.

Most of them took notice, proceeding to barrage him with questions he was not keen on answering with the full truth. Instead, he lied, waved them off and reassured them: “It's nothing… the ‘monovoir' was just overpowered by a rare amount of magicka in the air.”

Some bought his lies, while others did not.

Those who did, simply backed away, giving him his space while those who did not, glared at him with suspicion, tightening their hold on their respective weapon before looking away, acting as if nothing ever happened.

Nevertheless, he set out to follow the trail to wherever it led, keeping a fair distance away from it as he did so, lest he succumb to something worse than what he was already experiencing.

Though, despite not being capable of wielding magic directly, there was something in the air he could still… feel, even just by paying it attention.

It was radiating with the very definition of power on an unimaginable scale, so large that he himself felt a colossal shadow looming over him.

While ignorant of what it was or what it was even capable of, the sheer overwhelming amount of power and authority it projected spoke for itself.

However, there was something else he could feel, something he could sense…

It was subtle, so subtle that it was outright impossible to ascertain what it was.

Or it could just be nothing.

Nothing, but the dreadful results of a fatal mixture of stress and trauma that led to his imagination to go wild, but even after the uplifting thought, he wasn’t so sure…

A yawn forced its way out of Apollyon’s mouth as he stepped into the domain of his chambers, his sight immediately shifting to the left, falling upon the crib and its snoring occupants and the Mantle he had left beside his bed.

With the utmost of care, he shut the door to his chambers, not daring to awaken the snoring pair that occupied the crib to his left, lest he suffer the combined wrath of a pair of wailing alicorns and be robbed of hours or even a few minutes of beauty sleep.

Most likely feeling his presence, the Mantle sparked to life, immediately bombarding Apollyon’s mind with distorted whispers as its psykanic energies illuminated the room.

“A faithful child of Anima who was harmed by pigeons - leave the poor thestral be.” He said, gently placing the shaking mare on the bed with her head prompted up by his pillow.

The Mantle whispered again, talking to the man with a mixture of voices that was testing his resolve in its own right. But the man said nothing in return, instead, he took a knee beside the bed, bringing his hands together to interlock his thumbs before placing them on his chest.

“Some privacy, if you will?” He asked, prompting the Mantle to conjure a dome barrier that was large enough to surround him and the bed entirely.

Shutting his eyes from the world around him, leaving no material object or being to occupy his attention nor his thoughts, he focused on his breathing, inhaling and exhaling deeply several times, paying no heed to the incoherent whispers at the back of his mind.

Moments later, he rose from his kneeling stance, opening his eyes and hovering his hands over the shaking mare before him.

He began whispering in an ancient tongue as he planted one hand on the mare’s tuft whilst the other remained in the air, face up towards the ceiling.

The mare’s breathing started to pick up as Regana’s aura left her hindleg, but it quickly subsided with Apollyon’s aid, who replaced hers with his own.

With the spreading of the toxins halted from spreading further, he continued the ritual.

A psykanic aura then enveloped the poisoned bolt, and with some pressure placed below the head it snapped like a twig - quick and simple - before it was quickly extracted out from the side of the feathered fletchings.

Apollyon held no concern about the possibility of her blood spilling onto his sheets, for no red liquid left its residence whilst under the influence of the barrier.

The action, however, brought her much pain, forcing her to scream in pain while the man made every effort to contain her movements, struggling to hold her still whilst she made attempts to jump up and while her limbs flailed about.

As she began to leave red marks upon his arm as she smacked and whacked away, Apollyon continued with her restoration, enduring the uncoordinated assault with narrowed brows.

Soon he held his tongue, casting a ball of flaming purple in his right hand before continuing.

Thus, swiftly and firmly, he placed the abnormal flames upon the mare’s hindleg.

Instantly, she cried out to Faust as intense heat burned her flesh, her chilling screams even challenging the strength of the barrier that contained them.

She made every attempt to squirm away, to flee from the burning sensation, but Apollyon held her down, whispering apologies both internally and externally. And it was only after a gruelling half a minute or so did he relent the treatment, retracting his hand and letting the flames become nought.

The thestral’s cries soon died down, being reduced to simple seething and hastened breaths, but soon, those too will cease to exist as she transitioned into a more stable state, one that was calm, still and relaxed.

A smile took shape at the sight, more so as he observed the effects of the flames he forced her to endure.

Her once opened wounds were sealed completely, its scars practically invisible from the eye unless someone actively sought for it or someone with prior knowledge of the scars' location pointed it out.

After failing to stifle another tired, drawn out yawn, his grey baggy eyes caught the eye of something he failed to outside.

The thestral’s flank was as blank as a fresh piece of paper or a canvas that was left untouched by an artist. Though he was rather intrigued at such irregularity, his questions would have to wait, for sleeping ponies aren’t capable of answering questions well anyway.

With the healing ritual complete, Apollyon rose to his feet, prompting the Mantle to befall the barrier and allow him free rein of the place like before. He spared a glance to the alicorn sisters whilst he stretched every tight fibre of his body from left to right, the feeling of his muscles loosening up was an enjoyable sensation he would enjoy.

Despite the rising sun, informing flora and fauna to sing their life to the world, Apollyon could not help but exhale a sigh of relief for his chambers were not filled with longing cries.

Smiling, he fell back onto the end of the bed, the part that was left unoccupied by the mare, in hopes of catching at least a few minutes of shut-eye while the concept of peace and quiet remained true.

But there it came…

It started off small at first, a small subtle unintelligible mumble that quickly morphed and erupted into full-blown wailing and bawling that demanded to be fed as well as an unending amount of love, attention and comfort to be given to them.

Apollyon frowned, bringing his forearm over his eyes, groaning frustratingly, perhaps even screaming internally.

“... Why?”

After a long, enduring process of soothing the sisters, Apollyon shielded the byproducts of his yawn into his left forearm as he stepped out into the sun-covered hallway with the sisters and the Mantle in his grasp.

The presence of golden rays warming the trio.

His hold of the sisters in his right arm grew stronger upon feeling them shift about in his embrace, yawning and stretching their little limbs before resuming to nuzzle and smear their faces on his chest, humming whilst doing so.

Though, he did not enjoy the loving sensation as much as he would like.

Their horns, though somewhat blunt (at this age and just barely), did threaten to pierce or cut his top, and if it did, it would leave an embarrassing feeling of exposition that has rooted itself deeply within the human mind. But nevertheless, he appreciated the instinctual displays of affection… as well as the fact that their horns were not abnormally large enough to be embedded within him.

Fully knowing that his obligations, responsibilities and duties may have doubled with the arrival of the thestral and griffon prisoners, he set out to the fields, not wanting to waste more time idling about.

But as he neared the corner and was about to make the turn himself, he found himself witnessing three minor wisps dragging three seemingly lifeless bodies past him.

Following Regana’s example, they each dragged their prisoners in such a way that caused great discomfort or suffering to their forms.

One was dragged solely by the tail while being suspended in the air, another was being dragged with their face scraping itself on the cold stone, while the final one was having its head accidentally banging on heavy stationary objects and decorations that lined the hallway.

These wisps even seemed to revel in their actions; the natural light their bodies produced surging and dying down at an unrivalled pace so fast it mirrored laughter…childish, sadistic laughter.

Feeling a sense of irritation directed towards the wisps, Apollyon lifted his staff and tapped it on the stone floor several times.

And with such simple actions, the wisps became his audience; dropping their respective prisoner and ecstatically rushing over to him like a dog who hasn’t seen their owner for an incomprehensible period of time or a five-minute trip to the store.

They did what he expected them to do; bounce and dance around his broad being like a group of children skipping around a fire pit. Singing harmonic songs that delivered peace and tranquillity to the foals in his arms, compelling their perked up ears to flicker at the touch of musical notes and a small warm smile to take shape on their faces.

The wisps ceased their antics as soon as they saw Apollyon open his mouth to address them, bumping into each other as the lead wisp froze and paid heed to the man.

“Hey,” Apollyon said as calmly as he could, “Cease your acts and get those savages in the cellar in one piece. I’d prefer them to be somewhat functional if Regana is to extract anything useful from their tainted minds. Do you understand?”

The wisps nodded with the entirety of their flaming forms before returning to the prisoners to do his bidding.

Much to his satisfaction - though entirely expected of them - the wisps followed his demands to the letter, taking care not to accidentally bump the griffons into anything while on the slow journey to the cellar.

“Oh, and do be sure to wash up the thestral once you’re done. I don’t want her waking up with blood stained on her coat.” He added, to which they each let out another chime in response before leaving his sight.

The moment they disappeared around the corner, he let loose a sigh into the air, staring endlessly down the hallway, lost in his thoughts. He would’ve kept fixated until the end of days, that is, until he heard a squeaky voice below speak up, a voice that was purely unknown to him.

“...Bwha.”

Intrigued by the sudden soft voice, he looked down to the two only possible sources the voice would have originated from.

Upon looking down, he witnessed Celly staring in the direction of the griffons. Her magenta eyes sparkling with curiosity and interest.

On the other hand, Lulu was just… drooling and chewing on his shirt; subconsciously putting more of his shirt into her mouth whilst she continued to sleep in his warm embrace.

A series of fluid movements took place after he chuckled at the heartwarming sight.

Firstly, his shirt was removed from the confines of Lulu’s mouth and replaced with her hoof, of which she drooled onto and sucked on it now and then.

Next, Celly was wrapped in a glowing purple coat and lifted high enough to be at eye level with him. His glowing hypnotic eyes reflecting onto her own.

“Were you trying to say ‘bird’, my dearest Celly?”

Her head tilted slightly, with her ears flickering and directed towards him.

“Come on now,” he urged gently, waiting with anticipation, “Can you say, ‘bird?’”

Again, Celly tilted her head, just to the other side.

“Hmm… What about ‘Fa-th-er’,” He sounded out slowly, “Can you say, ‘Fa-th-er?’”

Much to his delight, the little filly began sounding out the word. Apollyon leaned in as he awaited the result, smiling gleefully and with sparkling eyes.

“Ffwat-er.”

…

After hearing her attempt, it took a few moments for him to register what had just occurred, though he quickly brushed off the harmless act.

“Quite the joker aren’t you, you little ankle biter.” He tittered, clearing his throat straight afterwards, “Right. Let’s try that again, shall we? - Can you say, ‘Father?’ - ‘Fa-th-er’.”

“...Ffw-at-er.” She repeated, seemingly trying to match the desired word’s pace.

A sigh left his mouth before it formed into a soft smile, “... Close enough.” He remarked, carefully planting his lips on Celly’s forehead - a loving act she enjoyed to her core, giggling happily and reaching out in a vain attempt to wrap her wings and forelegs around his head - before returning her to her spot beside Lulu.

“Alright then… Time to go to work.” He said drowsily, rubbing the heavy, dark bags under his eyes once he had started walking to the work fields, yawning and stretching along the way, “Oh, and please don’t tell Harpstrings or Regana about this - They’ll never be capable of letting this go.”

He smiled after receiving one last series of babbling, repaying her with some scratches behind the ears, “I’m glad we’re on the same team.”

Apollyon’s view of the work fields gradually grew as the doors were psykanically pulled open as per his demand. Though much to his annoyance, for whatever poor excuse for a reason, he found himself staring at empty, unattended fields.

But it was only through the acts of some deep breaths and the massaging of his temples that an early unnecessary outburst was spared… at least for another time.

Stepping outside onto stone before onto the sunlit grass, his issue of the unattended fields was quickly brushed aside once he was reminded of the tranquillity of the area.

The stillness in the air and the surrounding silence was something he could listen to every day.

However, someone else seemed to harbour other plans…

Regana manifested beside the man, her sudden appearance immediately gathering his full attention as he faced her with concern in his eyes, “Is something wrong? You should be secluding yourself, my friend.”

By subtly thrumming, she answered his initial question and passed on relevant bits of information as the distance between them and the trees grew shorter.

Once he was hit with harrowing silence, the Mantle was embedded within the earth harshly as he had arrived.

To all the animals, be they hostile or passive, big or small, in spirit or in body; every one of them felt a disturbance in the very sacred fabric of nature herself.

The cries of wolves, birds, rabbits were just among the few that echoed throughout; crying alongside the subtle shaking of the ground as they fled the scene to comfort their families.

The commotion and sudden shift of energy in the air even drew the curiosity of the wisps, but unfortunately, they seemingly shied away just as fast as they had revealed themselves.

A few dove into the earth, a few fled back to the manor, but all were silent… as they should be.

Naturally, only Regana and the sisters remained, the former recoiling back as if she were disturbed whilst the latter shifted even more so than usual, unintelligible mumbling out something for a moment before settling down.

“For such barbaric animals, they are quite persistent, aren't they?” He stated rhetorically, releasing his hold on the Mantle before bringing it up under his chin.

“Very well then,” He smiled, craning his head to the sole wisp of the area, “Together, we shall send them home… in a body bag. But for now, we shall await their arrival, and you will seclude yourself and return to full strength after you are done extracting whatever is useful from the prisoners. Do you understand?”

There was a moment of silence between the two, but after a meek chime and a blinking of his eyes, Regana vanished, leaving the family to themselves.

“Such a pain,” He sighed, looking down at the fillies whose open eyes met his own, “Oh, I hope I didn’t disturb your much-needed rest.” He said, providing complementary ear scratches as he started walking to a nearby fallen log.

Realising they had his loving attention, the sisters smiled, giggled and blew raspberries at him, and in response, he did the same, but with a few extras such as: Sticking his tongue out and making silly faces and sounds that would be considered inappropriate for an adult such as him.

After making one last silly face for them to laugh at, he crouched low to the ground to set them down safely, “Just stay here and relax, you two. I’ll just be over there.” He assured, pointing where an axe and several ‘x’ marked trees were located.

But instead of letting get right into what needed to be done, the sisters began uttering whimpers and soft cries that were excruciatingly painful for him to listen to and outright impossible for him to ignore.

With his back facing them, he groaned painfully to the sky before turning about, receiving a set of happy smiles and giggles as he approached.

Standing before them, he lowered himself to the same position as before, smirking as he observed them reaching out to him, wings and forelegs alike.

“Fine,” He said, feeling the sensation of two sets of limbs trying to wrap themselves around his neck upon picking them up and placing his rear down where they once were, “But only for a few minutes, I need to get back to it soon.”

His words fell upon deaf ears, for the sisters did not appear to care, as they were seemingly lost in their world as they nested comfortably themselves on his abdomen.

Seeing as they helped themselves to their living bed, a thought entered his mind as he glanced between the trees and the fillies.

Seconds later, he planted a hand over his eyes and sighed.

... Perhaps I didn’t think this through…

Author's Note

Hello there :trollestia:

Comments and criticism are highly appreciated and more than welcome :twilightsmile:

Scene Art by: JodTheCod

Chapter XIII - Sacred and Profane Part II

In a dark room where the light dared not invoke its presence, three winged quadrupeds remained suspended off the ground by chains of unknown origin. And as if they weren’t strange enough, the ends of these metallic interlocking links were seemingly connected or pinned or held up by… nothing… and yet, they displayed no issue of stringing these creatures up.

There were three states of wakefulness that claimed these mercenaries: the first was fully awake and delusional. The second was fully unconscious as he had been for who knows how long. And the third was coming to his senses; groaning as he stirred awake from the first one's ongoing delusional rambling.

“We’re going to die, we’re going to die, we’re going to die. But I can’t die here, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

The third cracked his eyes open, immediately like his head and body was pelted endlessly with rocks and stones. But even as they were opened, he saw as much as he did with his eyes closed.

He saw and was enveloped by the very definition of darkness. His eyes couldn’t even begin to perceive anything around or in front of him, even if they were breathing down his neck.

Soon, as he became fully aware, his head snapped to his right, hearing someone familiar rambling, “Psst, hey!” He called out, in the tone of a slightly louder whisper, “Kid, is that you?”

He got no direct response, but the familiar never ending incoherent whispering he had heard when they found him left a good chance that it was him.

“We’re doomed, we’re doomed, doomed, doomed, doomed. There’s no getting out of this… we’re dead… we’re dead griffons walking.”

“Snap out of it, Kid. Speak sense or not at all!” The sane griffon demanded, causing some rattling and jingling as he attempted a lunge in the direction of the voice.

“No, no. You’re not listening, it's a pasture, get it!? This whole thing, Is. One. Big. Cage. Don’t you understand!? We’re going to be rounded up like sheep, like lambs to the slaughter. A-and they’re the wolves. Here to BURN, KILL, AND MAIM US ALL!”

The Kid took a breath after bellowing his words out before continuing, although with a softer voice.

“This is it for us… The end…”

If circumstances were different and if his memory was wiped clean of that distressing image outside that structure, there was no doubt that he would claim that the Kid was beyond saving and simply deserves a mercy killing… but it wasn’t… and the kick it delivered to his beak immediately dismisses it as being false.

Before any more disturbing thoughts could be conjured within, the sound of a door opening with moaning and creaking hinges echoed all around. With the sounds of the opening door, some manner of purple light burned away the darkness, allowing eyes to see once again.

With light now illuminating the area, the sane griffon saw that he was in a stone room, one that contained empty racks for barrels filled with wine or mead, and a staircase on the other side of the room (from him) to collect said barrels.

Soon after the door opened, a series of footsteps alongside something metal meeting stone held the tongues and the sobbing of the strung up mercenaries.

The two who were awake swallowed whatever bravery they had left as those chilling sounds grew louder and louder alongside a voice that invoked dread and discomfort in their souls.

“What makes you believe one of them will serve us well? Their deaths will serve us just fine.”

One griffon weakly whimpered while the other waited in horrid silence in the presence of a hauntingly beautiful song.

“Is that so? … A sound recommendation, should he prove to be cooperative.”

Soon enough, their eyes laid sight upon a flaming ball hovering beside that… ape; a flat faced, well-built, bipedal being that carried a staff bearing religious or symbolic iconography, and a chained up book, a book probably carried more wisdom and knowledge than you would be willing to withhold.

As his boots felt the last of the stairs, he turned to look at the mercenaries with cold glares and death stares; eyes that would be as dull and lifeless as lead were it not for their glowing effect.

Was he contemplating on how he would kill them? Was he thinking about how painful or merciful it would be?

One shudders to imagine what inhuman and monstrous thoughts lie behind that skull of his, and they would have the honour of finding out.

With fluid movements, the creature took a number of steps to the midpoint of the room, before planting his staff down, releasing it to cross his arms soon after.

“Which one?” He asked, after his eyes turned to the floating orb.

His disinterest in the conscious griffons spiked as humming filled the room, his entire body turning towards the sole griffon who remained unconscious, unaware of all that was occurring around him.

As Apollyon began his approach, the griffon in the middle screamed and yelled to get his attention, fearing what the ape would do to his comrade. Unfortunately, he failed spectacularly, for Apollyon paid no mind and snapped his fingers.

Given the go-ahead, the staff sparked to life, filling the room with energies of unknown origins and capabilities.

With an aura already manifesting from thin air around the book, ghastly purple tendrils reached out to them, creeping and slithering in a snake-like pattern towards them.

Despite what was approaching him, he made a quick shift of his head to his right, making every struggle to wrap his talons around the flat-faced freaks throat.

But with every attempted struggle or pictured strangulation upon the creature, the chains tightened their squeeze, restricting blood flow, scraping off their layered feathers and cutting into their exposed light pink skin.

The mercenary cried out his pains to the heavens above and beyond, such primal cries dared to shake the foundation of the manor and crack its stained-glass windows.

The man crossed his arms as he stood in front of the unconscious griffon, simply waiting for the obnoxious screeching to cease so that he may continue in a more tolerable environment.

Not keeping him waiting any longer, the staff’s tendrils lunged into different locations of the griffon’s form. One for each of his eyes, two for the temples of his skull, and three for his heart.

His primal screams that deafened all were silenced slowly, being reduced to nought in but a few short moments. His beak remained opened, as if he were still screaming to his Gods. And the movements of his possessed body became erratic, quick twitches, sudden struggles and reactions to things that may or may not have existed.

The Kid was spared of the torture, at least physically, with eyes closed he turned his head and most of his body away, unable to bear the sight of the scene.

As the screams ceased, leaving nothing but fast-paced breathing and soft whimpers being uttered by the Kid, but not for much longer. After moments passed, the Mantle’s tendrils departed from its victim, leaving his suspended body almost lifeless, now seeking paths to its new victim.

The Kid tried to ball himself up and edge himself to the darkest corner of the room. Eyes closed, they began to elicit tears as regret and fear consumed him with a phrase constantly repeating to himself.

“Please let this be a nightmare, please let this be a nightmare, please let this be a nightmare, nightmare, nightmare, nightmare…” Came his shaky whispers, “Wake up, wake up, wake up. Home, home, I just want to go home…”

As the rambling continued, a series of voices echoed from the Mantle. Ones he could only perceive as demonic in nature. Unintelligible, garbled, dark… It was mixed with the horrid screams ranging from children, females, and males alike.

“Leave me!” The Kid cried, weeping as closely as he could to the wall, “P-please leave me alone!”

After hearing some sort of disgruntled shouts, the chains pulled back even more, forcing the Kid to face the tendrils against his will. But even then, he refused to look at them. To acknowledge their existence. Preferring to keep his pair shut to preserve his mind lest he succumb to absolute madness.

Unfortunately for him, the Mantle would not grant him such a luxury, even if he were to retreat into his own mental fortress he built for himself.

Soon, the Kid heard voices, whispers, and laughter. It was somewhat quiet at first, but it quickly grew louder with every second, and sinister with every other.

The tendrils reared up like snakes readying to strike as several prayers dedicated to heretical Gods left the beak of the griffon. But just as he managed to get a sentence in, they struck, leaving the Kid in the same state as the individual before.

Apollyon watched with little care or concern as the Kid endured the same torture as the first griffon.

Disinterested, he dusted off his shoulders, and waved over his accompanying wisp, “Come now, my friend. Let’s see if he will serve our interests.

Staring down at the griffon, the wisp released a series of sweet chimes, prompting the man to speak.

“Yes. Bring him into the waking world.”

It nodded with its whole corporeal form and obeyed, hovering beside one of his ears and unleashing a discordant tune that shocked him to life.

“AHH!” He screamed, panting heavily with a rushing heart. Like the others during their awakening, he suffered from indistinct vision and lack of familiarity with his surroundings, “W-where am I?”

Just managing to make out a blurred figure, he leaned forward and blindly called out to it, “C-captain? Kid? Is… is that you?”

After a vain attempt to reach out to the figure, he glanced at his talons, only realising they were wrapped by metallic links as his sight adjusted to his surroundings.

Panicking, he yanked hard on his restraints, compelling his bounds to place harsher pressure on his limbs, leading him to cry out even more.

“Keep resisting, and you won’t be able to walk ever again.” Apollyon said, getting the griffon’s full attention.

“An ape?!” He yelled, appearing shocked, “W-who are you?!”

“It doesn’t matter who we are, savage. What matters is our plan. A plan in which you will serve and take part in.”

Looking straight up at Apollyon, he sent a projectile of saliva to his face. But thanks to Regana, it never reached him, for it evaporated and turned to steam upon touching her once she had placed herself between the two.

“Never! I would rather die than serve some lowly groundborne!” He declared, pulling hard on his chains and screaming, attempting to swing a balled up set of talons at him.

Apollyon gently repositioned Regana to the side with a gentle nudge of a few fingers, granting him an audience with the griffon once again, this time with an infuriated stare.

“You test my patience, filth. Don’t push your luck, or you will end up like your comrades over there.” He warned, calmly gesturing to his left.

The griffon’s eyes followed the hand until it reached his lifeless comrades.

Within seconds turned back to Apollyon, bellowing out countless curses, insults, and threats as he thrashed about like a spoiled child having a tantrum.

The man sighed and did little but raise a brow at the irritating sight, simply waiting for him to get winded and for silence to befall the room once again, which it did, but in due time, once his lungs were deprived of the oxygen he needed.

The griffon’s need to bellow out his pain was overwhelmed with the need to cry and mourn. His thrashing came to a stop before his head hung low, glittering tears running down his feathered cheeks before crashing onto the stone-cold floor.

“Though I understand why one must elicit tears for their fallen brothers, know that this is not the time to cry, gryphon. For I bring you an offer of a lifetime, one that would be stupid and wasteful to pass up on.”

The griffon continued sobbing, muscles tensing and talons clenching themselves.

“If you refuse, then we will drain you and leave you to die — here and now — just like them.”

For a few moments, both sides said nothing, most likely waiting for the other to speak up. But just as Apollyon parted his lips to speak, the griffon’s head rose. His cracked red, teared up eyes meeting the man’s ghastly pair.

“Do not bore me with offerings I have no interest in, you ugly monkey. I have no need of them.”

The ends of Apollyon’s mouth curled up slightly, “Do not be so quick to dismiss my offering, gryphon. I am sure you would be inclined to believe otherwise once you hear of what I have to offer.”

Hearing this, the griffon eyed the man with equal amounts of curiosity and suspicion.

“A chance — one for both your dearly beloved and child back home.”

Within seconds of mentioning his family, the air grew tense as his brows furrowed, and he breathed out heated air. Apollyon forwarded a hand, palm faced down.

“Settle down, gryphon. Know that we have no intention of doing anything sinister to them. In fact, we have the intention of doing the opposite.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe you? To just take your word for it?”

“We have nothing to gain in exterminating two specific gryphons that live on another continent entirely. Though we are capable of such things, it’ll be nothing but a waste of precious time and energy.” Apollyon took a breath, continuing upon seeing that the griffon remained unconvinced, “Our goals lie in Equus-Terra alone — Nothing more, nothing less — Whatever happens elsewhere is of no concern to us.”

The glare of the griffon gradually weakened and eased up, his eyes unsteadily filling with uncertainty as they drifted down towards the floor.

“We can help you, gryphon. But only if you submit to our service. Our boon is not a charity, nor is it cheap. It will cost you a piece of yourself, but it’ll cost nothing compared to everything you’ll save.”

Once Apollyon talking had ceased, the griffon was left to contemplate in his own isolated world in silence for a while, that is until the sounds of a familiar set of voices caught his attention.

He quickly found himself staring wide-eyed into Regana’s radiating form, recognising the source of the noise originating from her. The pupils of his eyes dilated to the point where it took over the irises, as if he were completely entranced with what he saw.

At first, it seemed to go well, for he managed a smile and pushed out tears of joy upon hearing childish laughter and a beloved voice that longed for him. But it soon faded into obscurity, as did his smile, being replaced with endless amounts of sobbing and meaningless words of comfort and promises.

It was only when he was confronted with goodbyes, did he manage to break free from Regana’s hold on him, “No!” He shouted, rapidly shaking his head, ”Get out of my head!”

“What you see are nothing but memories. We are merely reminding you what is at stake.”

The griffon shot Apollyon a glare, “I know what is at stake! I do not need to be reminded!”

“Hmm, is that so?”

“Yes, it is!” He yelled, taking a moment to regulate his breathing, “I see them in my sleep… I see them in my wake… In every moment of my life, I see them - even now.”

“And here you are, instead of home.”

His head hung lowly as if he were ashamed, “It pains me beyond recognition.” He said weakly before looking up, “But I will not stand idly by and watch another of my sons die…”

He shook his head, eyes releasing a stream of tears, “...not again, not this time.”

Apollyon’s head craned over in the direction of Regana, who hummed continuously, prompting him to nod understandably before addressing the griffon, “Then choose, gryphon. Acceptance of servitude in exchange for aiding your dying son. Or rejection, favouring your pride and comrades, but at the cost of you, your child and possibly, your beloved, who will have to endure another loss… just with your eternal absence this time.”

The griffon’s head hung low, letting out a heavy sigh. Feeling himself being torn apart in two separate directions, struggling to endure the torment of the two loyalties his heart was bound to; Every promise, step and every journey with both sides only served to abuse him even further.

In time, after the passing of a few aching minutes, he found himself looking back up at Apollyon, whose glowing pupils seemed fixated on a silver ticking contraption. They were only pulled away to lock onto the griffon once a sweet hum passed through his ears.

“Have you made your decision?” Asked Apollyon, staring inquisitively in the mercenary’s eyes.

Even though he had, the griffon struggled to find the words for it as he suffered under the weight of all the shame, guilt, and regret he forced upon himself. And it was only after Apollyon spared him a moment did he muster the strength to get some words out.

“Divines help me… “ He whispered in a desperate manner.

“Your Gods can’t help you. But I can.” Apollyon claimed, boldly, confidently.

The griffon sighed heavily and raised his head, eyes locked onto the man’s face, “I… I, Skeiron, submit to your service, groundborne.” He emphasised, making no attempt to mask his contempt.

Apollyon grinned, despite sensing a hint of disgust and disdain emanating from the mercenary and his voice.

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear…” He shifted his head in the direction of Regana and nodded, “Let him down.”

The faithful wisp did as was demanded of her and had Skeiron lowered to the floor with care before the chains unwrapped and pulled themselves away from him.

Skeiron hissed as he immediately moved to massage and soothe his aching forelegs, that is, until a smooth-skinned hand brought itself into his view. He traced the limb back to its owner and scowled.

“Rise, Skeiron. It’s time to go to work.”

The griffon repeatedly glanced between Apollyon and to the helping hand offered. After a couple of glances, he craned his head over to his comrades, whose bodies were lowered to the ground as well.

Upon seeing them in such a state, a sudden spike of anger got the better of him, and he quickly made a reckless attempt to slap away the hand offered. But he missed thanks to Apollyon preemptively retracting his hand.

Regana moved to punish Skeiron for his actions, but was halted before she could, by the very same hand.

Skeiron then arose in silence from the stone floor, using the wall to his back as support before falling onto all fours. He stared daggers at Apollyon, who retrieved the Mantle and intriguingly watched the griffon move to attend to his comrades.

With diligence and in silence, he laid them together flat on their backs. From a first glance, both would give off the impression that they had departed the mortal realm were it not for the subtle rising and falling of their chest or the soft groaning and moaning they uttered from their beaks.

He uttered a sigh of much-needed relief before taking a couple of steps back and praying for their wellbeing, eyes closed and head lowered.

In time, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. While his eyes were still fixated on the pair of bodies, he could hear the sounds of footsteps becoming faint with every step, leading him to quickly speak his mind, “My comrades… Did-”

“No, I didn’t.” Apollyon interrupted, answering in a way as if he already knew what he was going to ask.

“Why then? I’m bad, if not worse, than everygriff in my company. So, why? Why me?”

The silence between the two lasted for seemed like an eternity, as one eagerly sought an appropriate answer. And soon enough, it came, Apollyon spun on his heels and faced him, clearly frustrated.

“They say every man has a fatal flaw; You, Skeiron, have two - with one of them being in a critical state. Thus, we chose you; To exploit your… predicament.”

His heart skipped a beat in response, he recoiled upon seeing images of his family flashing in his head while he was haunted by the echoes of childlike laughter and a feminine voice.

“Need I go on?”

“No!” Skeiron yelled, compelling the man to arch his brows while the griffon took a moment to regain his composure, “No… I’ve heard enough.”

“Good.” Apollyon said, eyes shifting away upon hearing some humming pass through his ears, prompting him to nod. And as his eyes shifted back over to the griffon, he began taking long strides with a neutral expression on his face, “One last thing, if you don’t mind.”

Groaning subtly, Skeiron turned about, only to be confronted by Apollyon and his staff, the latter of which projecting an aura of psykanic energy around itself. When the Mantle was jabbed towards the griffon, the very same aura enveloped and claimed him, leaving him frozen and at their mercy.

“W-what. Are. You. Doing?!” Skeiron stammered, finding it difficult to talk while he battled for dominance over his body.

“It’s time to play the part, gryphon. Your real emotions, actions and intentions will betray and expose you to your former allies. We’re just making sure you can play the part without failure, so do nothing, but accept us.”

With that said, subtle streams of what appeared to be cloudy purple smoke emanated from the Mantle, making its way to Skeiron’s chest. But despite what Apollyon demanded of him, he was unable to fully accept what was forced upon him, compelling him to resist as fear and distrust reeked off him worse than a rotting corpse.

The moment cloudy smoke passed through organic matter and his gambeson with ease, a burning sensation erupted in his chest. He writhed, groaned and hissed in their grasp as they did who knows what to his insides, and it was only moments later until the effects began to reveal themselves.

Skerion’s heart was highlighted purple, glowing to a degree that surpassed layers of feathers and pink skin. Before long, the effects started to spread, travelling swiftly through arteries and veins alike, stopping only once psykanic energy reached and consumed his eyes, shifting them into a state that resembled Apollyon’s.

Once his eyes were consumed, he was dropped to the floor and left to recover. He panted heavily on his knees and sought the strength to stand. Upon rising onto all fours, Apollyon witnessed the energies lingering for a while before fading back into obscurity, leaving the body in a state where all seemed normal.

Apollyon gave off a prideful smile, tapping the staff on the ground and dispersing the energies into thin air. He placed a hand on the griffon’s shoulder and squeezed tightly, “Because of your rational thinking, your son may yet live long enough to start his own family one day. You should know that.”

And with nothing more to say, he spun on his heels and departed the room, waving over his faithful companion along the way and allowing the darkness to start to settle in once again.

Skeiron watched in silence the light left the room, glittering tears eliciting from his eyes and falling gracefully to dampen the stone floor as he looked at the griffons left behind, “I’m… sorry, my friends.” He whispered, his voice breaking, “But you couldn’t understand… could you?”

And before following the lingering strands of the wisp, he stood tall, head high and wiped away his tears, back facing the pair, unable to endure staring at their crippled state any longer.

Author's Note

Comments and criticism are highly appreciated and more than welcome :twilightsmile:

Chapter II - A Gift from a Friend

“Come now, let’s get you fillies inside.” The man said, rising to his two feet, placing the sling over his shoulder, and grasping the body of his staff. Climbing the stairs he once sat upon and stopped in front of the pair of wooden doors.

He let his free hand feel up the stone frame of the doorway, “I dub thee ‘Nequam’ (‘Worthless’) and once I complete your overhaul, I shall rename you to something worthy of being the first Castle constructed by me.”

Once he was done, he removed his hand from the stone door frame and placed it on one of the doors, with a push, the door slowly creaked opened, giving the man a narrowed view of the interior. Pushing some more, feeling pain in his sore muscles, he stopped briefly before repositioning himself to put more effort in his legs, pushing again he managed to open the door although using more effort than he would’ve liked.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he took a breath of the interior only to recoil away from his own body.

Oof, I need to take a bath… I smell worse than a Diamond Dog…

The man felt some squirming from his sling, looking down, he saw Lulu and Celly were moving around, pushing against his chest or each other. Rolling his eyes, he placed his own hand between them, slightly wincing in pain from their hooves scratching against his fragile skin.

They keep this up I might reconsider getting them horseshoes…

Once they stopped squirming about, he slowly retracted his arm before giving Lulu a little scratch behind the ears - prompting it to flicker at the touch and bring a small smile on her muzzle - before providing the same treatment for Celly.

Giving them a smile before leaning his staff against the wall and taking off the heavy load from his shoulders. But the cold air that hit his back while simultaneously relieving the pain his shoulders carried brought some much needed relief.

His bag looked far worse than him, it was covered in sweat, dirt and mud, probably smells worse too, his staff wasn’t as clean when he started the journey but he made a note to maintain his valuable and irreplaceable equipment.

Grabbing his staff before looking around the interior of the foyer. It wasn’t what he had expected. The foyer was well preserved and well lit thanks to the windows and the open door but it was a bit dim in some corners.

Furniture suited for a foyer was positioned around the entrance like crystal holders attached to the walls, it had the same features as a candle holder, just that it held small magical crystals instead.

Hovering a hand in front of the crystal holders, it started glow slightly, slowly building power before it began to glow ever brighter, illuminating the foyer and eradicating the darkness.

A wide red carpet with golden ends and fringes led from the entrance to the main hall.

Ornate wooden chairs with red soft cushions and no backrest flanking the sides of a circular glass table with a golden frame and legs. On the glass table was an empty crystal vase and a chessboard. Unfortunately the sizes of the chairs and tables were not suited for him, smaller and shorter than human sized furniture.

Above the table was a rectangular mirror, that showed his own reflection; dirty and filthy, only enforcing the reason to have a bath.

Oh if she saw the way I looked right now…

Shaking his head free from his thoughts, he moved on from the foyer into the main hall, passing through another pair of wooden doors that were already opened inwards.

When he entered, there were several storage chests and sacks just sitting there.

The chests were not in the best condition, the metal was rusted and the wood was splintered. The sacks were dirty and damaged, some had holes in them with fruits and vegetables falling out.

But something caught his eye, on top of the chests, just laying there, was a note.

Walking over and picking it up. It was addressed to him. He unfolded the letter and started reading aloud.

“Dear Apollyon,

Just as promised, I have left you and the fillies some supplies you will need to survive in such an isolated location for a time, but I have left several key items to help you become self sufficient so you won’t have to rely solely on my support.

These things include:

Several cattle for feeding
Tools for lumber, mining, farming, fishing, etc
Various types of seeds for farming

I recommend talking to ‘Apis’ first, he’s the only black bull in the herd and is its head. It’s best to find out and work out a deal with him for letting the fillies feed from them.

I’m not entirely sure if you are familiar with farming, but if not, then you could also ask the cattle. They may stand around all day and eat grass, but they do watch what happens around them.

Your personal items in the main chambers.

It was unfortunate that you could not stay and that we could not have traveled together, but circumstances have deemed it so.

I will return in a month to see how you and the fillies are faring, by that time, I hope you have unlocked the gate to make transportation and travel far easier.

But until then, stay safe.

Your friend, Harpstrings”

Smiling at the note, he folded it back up before leaving it on the chest. Turning his attention to the main hall, he noted down all the features of it.

Hanging from the ceiling were four evenly spaced golden chandeliers with dim magically powered crystals instead of candles.

To the sides were finely chiseled stone statues with a bust of a male unicorn. The unicorn had a helmet but without any face protection, permanently showing his deadpan expression.

In between the statues were ‘ponikins’ clad in suits of medieval plate armour built for nobleponies who became knights, but these sets of armour were ceremonial in design. Metal plates of armour covered with a brass finish protected most of the ponikin except the underbelly, knees and hocks.

Additional accessories included a royal blue plume for the helmet, a brass symbol of the sun on the left side of the chest acting as the crest and a royal blue cape with a symbol of the sun that wrapped itself around the barrel.

The man subconsciously gripped his staff tighter, swiftly shifting his gaze to other things in the main hall.

In the main hall was a pair of doors on the left and right, leading into an adjacent room, but these rooms were identified with a brass sign secured onto the door.

On the West side was the dining hall and the East was the common area.

At the end of the main hall was a wide set of cold stone stairs with the same blood red carpet going up it and stopping at the top before another red carpet took over, heading off into two directions: The East and West corridors.

You know this place looked smaller on the outside…

Looking around some more until he grit his teeth at the sight of beautiful stained glass arched windows all sharing a picture of Alicorn with a shimmering white coat and a fiery, yet calming orange mane with several streaks of yellow and dark orange.

The Alicorn was lying down in front of a small group of foals with the rays of the sun shining upon them from the right. There were no plate inscriptions, or messages carved into the wall, just the picture.

Sighing, Apollyon decided to head to the dining hall first.

Entering the dining hall, it was a decently sized room with enough space for a Human and two future fully grown future Alicorns, but the height might’ve been an issue.

A long table covered with a white sheet was in the centre of the room, with chairs under the table. Several dining tables were placed together to give the illusion that it was one long table.

On the table was several crystal holders that laid dormant.

The only lighting came from a single chandelier that hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room and several evenly spaced stained arched windows that held no pictures.

Hearing some yawning, Apollyon looked down to see Celly and Luna reaching the stars before opening their eyes to the world.

“Good afternoon, my sweetest Celly and my dearest Lulu.” Gesturing to dining room, “Look, this is where we’ll be eating from now on and not in the cold, bitter dark wilderness.”

Giggling and laughing, they did their best to reach out to him.

Sighing, his eyes flashed purple. His staff and eyes dimly glowing purple. A warm and welcoming purple aura surrounding the sling and the the fillies.

Lifting the fillies up to his neck while simultaneously taking off the sling and leaving it on the side of the room. He received a hug and nuzzle from them as thanks.

Chuckling a giving them a muzzle in return, “Oh, what am I going to do with you two?” Receiving a happy babble from each of them.

“Come, let’s take a look around the manor.”

Seeing another door that led to an adjacent room with a sign labeled ‘kitchen’ beside it. He walked over and opened the door.

Upon entering the kitchen, his nostrils were filled with an assortment of herbs and spices. However his eyes widened at the interior of the kitchen.

A cooking oven for baking and a huge fireplace for stews, or smoking and roasting food.

Pots, pans, kettles, skillets and cauldrons filled the tables with herbs hanging from a herb drying rack hanging low above the tables.

A small water supply complete with a sink and drainage was on the side.

I really need servants to help maintain this place…

Hearing some babbling from his shoulders, he looked to his sides and realised that his fillies couldn’t see, “Oh sorry,” he apologised, placing them on the back of his shoulders so that they could see the kitchen.

“Well? What do you think?” Hearing some questioning babbling from them he scoffed, “Pfft, of course I can cook. Have you tasted my- oh right.”

Hearing them laugh and giggle, “Oh quiet you two.” Mumbled Apollyon.

At the end of the kitchen was a door with a small arched window built into it. Sunlight shined through the small window and Apollyon could see the greens of nature.

Apollyon clumsily walking through the kitchen to get to it, doing his best - however miserably failing - to avoid hitting the corners of tables and walking face first into hanging metal pots and pans.

After making it through, he brought a hand to his forehead to rub it.

Damn these pony sized rooms…

Hearing some laughing from his shoulders he shook his head and craned his neck around, “Excuse me? Are you laughing at my torment?”

Apollyon gasped when he heard some agreeable babbling, “You’re both grounded until I die.” he stated, getting some pleading from them before taking the back exit.

Apollyon and his fillies were greeted with a view of lush green plains perfect for raising farms and animals.

Cattle littered the thriving fields, simply eating the grass or talking to members of their own herds. A black bull, the only male of the herd, was surrounded by females, relaxing at the far end of the field. The herd carried a diverse breed of cattle, brown, white, black and white. It was one of the most diverse herds ever seen.

“I hope the male is nothing but reasonable.” Apollyon said, looking to Celly, “What do you think?”

However, Celly’s attention was elsewhere, the white Alicorn magenta orbs were drawn to the sun, staring into the depths of its warmth and power.

Apollyon traced her gaze and glanced back to her, “Don’t stare at the sun Celly.” He ordered, bring Celly to the front of his shoulder, burying her face in it.

He looked to Lulu, who shared no concern with the sun, but with her missing sister, wondering where she disappeared to. After a moment or two after her sisters ‘disappearance’ Apollyon heard some soft whining from his right shoulder. Sighing at being inconsiderate, he levitated both of them under his chin.

Lulu’s once sad expression was replaced with a joyful one as she found her light, wrapping her legs around Celly’s neck and nuzzling her like no tomorrow. Celly however didn’t seem to notice Lulu, instead, she attempted to climb over his shoulder, no doubt wanting to stare into the depth of the sun, as if wanting to comprehend its secrets.

Tensing up, Apollyon immediately power walked to the other side of the field, the talking of the field ceased as he got the attention of the herd and breaking Celly’s fascination of the sun.

Approaching, Apis, the black bull, who was simply laying down with several females surrounding him. Apollyon couldn’t tell from glance if it was for ‘protection’ or just to simply prove something else, but it made him clench his fist at the sight.

Apollyon walked to him, getting a smug look from the bull as he approached. Nearing his presence, Apollyon embedded his staff in the ground, flashing his eyes and staff at the bull.

“Apis! I’ve come to bargain.” Apollyon declared, receiving a smirk from the bull, “My demands are as follows: Your females are to feed my fillies in exchange for what your heart desires!” He shouted again, attracting quite the crowd.

Apis looked at the Human, before repeatedly glancing from him, to the Alicorns under his chin. The blue Alicorn, nuzzling the white one, while she was accepting it but trying to gain a little distance from her.

Apis started to giggle softly before it slowly shifted to full blown laughter. Apis laughed ecstatically on the ground, prompting Apollyon to raise an eyebrow at his unprofessional antics.

The surrounding females kept their eyes on Apollyon, ignoring the head of their herd as his laughter resonated throughout the field.

Soon, it slowly began to die down, catching his breath and wiping a tear that broke out from his eye. Apis stood up, still trying to contain his laughter before slowly making his way over to the Human.

The bulls height wasn’t imposing, but his bulky physique certainly compensated for it. His toned muscles tensing up as he walked over, still tensing as he stopped in front of Apollyon.

Standing face to face or face to… chest, trying to size the Human up. Whether it was confidence or pure arrogance, Apollyon couldn’t figure out the atmosphere of the field, but he could most certainly take a guess.

Apollyon looked down at the bull as Apis gave a cheeky grin.

“No.”

Author's Note

And thus we have the chapter. Need criticism to help improve and if anyone has an idea to avoid the repetitive use of babbling for the fillies then please share.

Chapter XIV - Sacred and Profane Part III

The sun still reigning from above the sea of light blue and dabs of white, Apollyon stood upon a hill of swaying bladed greens alongside Skeiron, whose form was covered in a gambeson and was armed with his sword and dagger. With the Mantle in hand, Apollyon tapped the bottom of the staff on the ground several times, startling the mercenary.

“It is time,” He said, “You know what is at stake. Heed my demands, and I’ll see to it that your son's health will blossom. No one else needs to be buried anymore.”

“Right.” Skeiron whispered, eyes and facial expression now inflamed with determination, “This is the only way.”

Flaring out his wings and taking off, sending dust alongside a small gust of wind in all directions upon takeoff, while Apollyon remained there, simply watching the mercenary fly for a few seconds more until he heard a series of heavy weighted hooves disturbing the grass nearby.

“You wish to speak, then speak, Apis. But make it short, I don’t have time to deal with you.”

Apis, annoyed and somewhat heated from the human’s dismissive tone, stepped forward and spoke up, “You haven’t been here long, and already you’re bringing in unfamiliar faces and scents… I guess what Harpstrings says about your kind is true.”

Apollyon chuckled, recalling her words with a grand smile, “‘If somepony wants a problem in life; go find a hooman.’ Never have I been offended by something I strongly agree with… But as for the unfamiliar beaks and scents, they’ll be far more soon, so I recommend keeping your mouth shut and don’t draw any attention at all like a good for nothing nobody.”

Eyebrows narrowing and body tensing, Apis stomped a hoof on the ground before speaking with a slightly raised voice, “Are all hoomans as annoying and difficult to put up with like you? Or are you the only one?”

“Yes.” He answered nonchalantly, “Now gather your herd, and don’t draw any attention to yourself, less you plan on making yourself a target.”

“And the foals?”

“I’ll take them off Clarabelle and watch over them. You just focus on your herd. Got it?”

“Wait but-”

“Good.” He cut off, leaving the bull speechless, “Now get going, Apis. I can feel their presence encroaching upon the borders of the Everfree.”

Granting Apis a view of his backside, he dismissed the bull entirely, focusing his mind on far bigger concerns present at the moment.

Huffing at his actions, Apis turned in the direction of his herd and began making his way there, mumbling behind the human’s back as he did so, “I can’t believe Harpstrings actually puts up with you…”

Apollyon overheard this but refused to make a remark on it, giving Apis a glance, a quick shake of his head and nothing more.

With the sounds of soothing humming entered his ears, the man shaped up a white smile as he held out his palm to an approaching wisp.

“Well, hello there, little one.” He greeted, allowing the radiating wisp to nest and seek comfort in his palm, “What news do you bring of our uninvited guests? And please, don’t spare the details.”

The wisp then passed him all the relevant information in the form of humble chimes, hums and melodies.

“Let’s not… at least for now, little light. I wish for them all to see what happens when animals dare to transgress against Man and our charges.” He let his arm fall to his side, robbing the wisp of its ‘nest’, “Run along now, little light, I’ll let Regana take over from here. Oh and, do me a favour and bring the prisoners out here, bounded, if you will?”

Getting an obedient nod from the wisp before it departed from his sight, Apollyon looked to the treeline, closing his eyes and focusing beyond it, picturing a group of griffons hesitantly waiting outside the Everfree.

“And so it begins…”

Standing on the literal boundaries of the outskirts of the Everfree, the mercenary Captain along with his entourage stared endlessly into the never-ending thickness of brush, crooked trees and jagged stones. All, except for the Captain, felt their hearts drop into the pits of their stomachs, unable to shake off their seconds thoughts that this may have been a bad idea.

“The Everfree… it just had to be the Everfree.” A mercenary commented, prompting more comments to be said aloud.

“You’ve heard the stories Equines said about this place. The way everything works on its own without their interference.”

“Not including beasts that roam this accursed place… manticores, sea serpents, ursa’s, wolves…“

“And that’s what they’ve seen… we don’t know what else is in there.”

“Enough!” The Captain demanded, silencing them all instantly. Blood boiling as he turned to face his faint-hearted comrades, “The Bastard Sons have dealt with worse before, this is simply one of those times again.”

One of his subordinates stepped forward, an honest thought in mind to say aloud, “With all due respect, Captain. But there is NOTHING familiar about facing off against our own.”

The weapons of the mercenaries slowly lowered to their side as their comrade confronted their leader, “While we have faced monsters and beasts of all shapes and sizes, these… things turned our brothers against us! Our comrades in arms have fought by our side since we left our homeland!”

He shook his head in disbelief, “... Loyalty like that isn’t easily found nor is it easily matched, but when we encountered that… thing it’s like what we all the battles and hardship we endured together didn’t even matter.”

He was met with mumbles of agreement from his receptive comrades.

“Unicorn magicks; Illusions?” A mercenary suggested.

“I don’t think so…” He disagreed, “I think it’s something worse… something far more sinister… Chaos magicks maybe?”

“Chaos magicks?” A fellow mercenary repeated. “Come on Chiron, you’re starting to sound like the Kid now. Everygriff knows that Chaos magick isn’t real, the unicorns have tried exploring that route, and they failed to bear any fruit.”

“Are you so inclined to believe that? Everygriff knows that you cannot trust those noble pansies. They will lie, they will cheat, they will do everything but tell you the whole truth.” He paused for a moment, taking a breath, “And after what we all saw last night, would you still hold any doubts?”

Reminded of the events, his comrade shook his head and backed down, allowing Chiron to continue.

“I- We don’t know what we’re dealing with. But I know one fact for sure, and that fact is that we are in way over our heads, to keep going is a death sentence.”

“So would be returning to the guild with our blood brothers lives not paid for dearly in blood.” The Captain said, “We don’t have a choice, we either come back with vengeance claimed and a trophy in a bag or not at all. Flee with our tails between our legs, and… you all know how deserters and cowards are treated, so you can expect the same.”

The look on their faces once he reminded them of this was all the answer he needed from them. Most stepped back, gripping onto their weapons tightly, while others did as little as hold their tongues.

He nodded, “That’s what I thought.” He affirmed, letting out a heavy sigh, “Now ease up lads, pass your prayers and hold your charms close to keep the seeds of heresy and corruption at bay. Once Pontus and Thistle return from scouting, we will make our move.”

“So why’d the Captain send us out? Instead of, you know, griffs who have actual experience in scouting before?” Pontus asked, flying through tamed skies of blue dotted with white fluffy spots of different shapes and sizes.

“Clearly he just didn’t want to see your ugly face!” Thistle jabbed, shooting Pontus a smug smile, continuing to fly high above the Everfree alongside his blood brother.

“Oh please, chicks are falling over each other just for this mercenary.” He claimed, gesturing to himself.

“You’re disgusting! It’s a wonder Vilod still puts up with you!”

“What can I say?”-He casually shrugged, tilting his body slightly so that his form was facing Thistle-” She loves me too much to get rid of me.”

“HA! We’ll see about that, just wait till we- Wait, what’s that?”

Taking notice of his shouting, Pontus adjusted his flying stance quickly to accommodate a potential threat Thistle was pointing at. Both warriors reared up, hovering in the air with their weapons ready, and their war faces on. But as the silhouette grew as it made its approach, its shape became more distinct to make out, eventually leading the two to ease up and lower their weapons upon recognising who it was.

“Skeiron?” Thistle questioned uneasily, face filled with bewilderment as the fellow mercenary approached, stopping only once he was within forelegs reach.

Within mere milliseconds, the blood brothers caught sight of all the open wounds that littered Skeiron’s form, all recent, turning a dark shade of red as the blood clotted up to slowly begin the healing process.

“By the Divines, What happened? We thought you and the others perished when you didn’t return to us.”

The griffon in question shook his head, panting heavily, stammering, “N-no, I- We didn’t perish, Thistle, we were taken against our will. I managed to escape, but the others… the others weren’t so lucky…”

Gently placing a talon on his shoulder, to which Skeiron seemed to stare at for quite a while before getting a question he must know the answer to, “Are they dead?”

After a few seconds of long anxious silence, the blood brothers began to fear the worst, that is until Skeiron spoke up, managing to get the words out, “N-no, they’re alive I think, they… they just weren’t lucky enough to escape.”

“Did you manage to see who or what was behind this?” Asked Pontus, tightening the grip on his weapon.

“Only a glimpse, from looks alone he appeared to be a bipedal creature with apelike features.”

“A monkey? So, we’re dealing with a monkey?” Said Thistle, a hint of doubt in his voice. He did continue, but only after getting confirmation from the griff before him, “So you’re telling me that a monkey caused ALL of this?”

The brothers waited in anticipation, some part of them hoping that Skerion was wrong, hoping that their group was not bested by some creature with no affinity towards being sapient. But alas, their hopes were crushed once Skeiron reaffirmed his claims.

“Unfortunately, it would appear to be that way, friends…”

Muscles tendons tensing in his neck, Thistle rushed up to the griff, grasping a talon-full of his gambeson before pulling him closer, “Do you remember where you came from?”

Skeiron reacted accordingly to the sudden heated aggression, wrapping his talons around Thistles, nodding, “I remember; it was a manor of sorts in a clearing.”

“Take us there.” Thistle demanded, simultaneously releasing and pushing the griffon, granting him the ability to move freely once again.

After recovering from Thistle’s shove, Skeiron did as he was told, though appearing to hesitate for a moment. Nevertheless, he took the lead while the others followed close, right on his tail; flying with such determination that shadowed Skeiron’s instantly; their wing power alone altered the course of clouds or forced a few to break off from the main body.

Flying at great urging speeds along with the simple guidance of Skeiron, the trio managed to spot the target building in no time. Making their approach with their eyes set on the building and the clearing, the trio began to ease up on their speed, slowing down to a much more controllable and discrete state.

“Is that it? Is that the place?” Asked Thistle, steadily flying alongside Skeiron. And after getting a nod in response, Thistle braked to a full stop but remained hovering in the air, the others followed suit.

“Hold fast, griffs.” He ordered, pointing to one of the many clouds his eyes locked onto, “Let’s use the clouds to get a better view. Go and grab as many as you can, griffs.”

The others saw no reason to argue with him; thus they did as they were told, each grabbing as many clouds as possible whilst holding no concern over the shape and size before moulding them all together to form an even larger fluffed up cloud for them to exploit, like a child playing with dough.

Only after combining each of the clouds they gathered did two of the mercenaries placed and faced themselves towards the rear; wings flared out and ready for action. While Thistle hung his head over the front, granting him unrivalled sight from the skies, “Remember, slow and steady, any quick movements will draw unwanted attention.”

Skeiron and Pontus adhered to Thistle’s reminder, keeping the movements of the clouds to match the surrounding ones. And though it was slow, they managed to close the distance to the manor undetected, their natural and highly advantageous cover situated high above.

“Hold here, this is good enough.” Thistle said, taking a look-see and scanning the entirety of the clearing with care and focus.

“What do you see?” Asked Pontus, glancing over to his blood brother whilst remaining in his spot alongside Skeiron.

“Hmm, nothing of value as far as I can tell… just some cattle, but I doubt they would have half a brain to even give us anything of value.”

“Won’t argue with you there, the only thing they're useful for is bodies for a compliant workforce.”

“Or a meat shield to stand in the way of monsters or invading armies.”

“That as well.”

Thistle and Pontus continued to jab shots and chuckle at the mocking insults directed towards the grounded creatures, it was only when the laughter had finally died down did Pontus shift his gaze over to Skeiron who drew his concern.

Strangely, Skeiron appeared to be lost in his world, eyes staring off into the distance of blues and greens. Now, this alone wouldn’t warrant much concern, but what action he carried out besides staring, albeit intentionally or unintentionally, did.

The griffon’s talons and body were shaking as if he was exposed to frosty elements for a long period of time, he seemed to have constant trouble in taking in a good breath and the pupils of his eyes appeared to have shrunk to the size of a pinprick.

Despite thinking, he should just leave him be, Pontus placed a talon on his shoulder, startling him unintentionally, before shaking him gently, “Hey, you alright there? You don’t look so good.”

Skerion stammered, “Y-yeah, I-I’m fine… j--just nerves… just nerves…”

Pontus scoffed at the trembling griff, “Nerves?! You hear that, Thistle?”

“Yeah I- Wait… I think I see the monkey, he’s coming out of the manor, and uh…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it's just, I expected a creature with more of a… slouched posture.”

“Well, what is he doing, brother? Can you tell from here?”

“Of course I can, you twit, just be quiet…” And silence is what they gave him.

Through the eyes of Thistle, he witnessed a bipedal creature standing in front of the manor’s opened doors with staff in hand. Distinctly, he focused on observing his actions, for he seemed to be passing orders and throwing commands with simple gestures of his hand.

As the griff continued to watch, he was unfortunate to have witnessed a scene that made his eyes widen; Two bounded griffons with brown, dirtied sacks placed over their heads were carried outside in a purple aura, one that appeared to be projected from similar spectral flames that they encountered last night.

He then watched as the griffon prisoners were lined up beside each other before being dropped onto the floor; ready to be put to the sword.

Thistle jumped up the moment his mind pictured a very bloody image. He turned to the others, who awaited to hear what he saw.

“What’s wrong? What did you see?” Queried Pontus, his mind inquisitive of what Thistles eye bore witness to.

“I’ll tell you griffs on the way, but right now, we have to get back to the Captain as quickly and as discreetly as possible, or we’ll have two more sets of tags to bring back to the guild.”

Alarmed by such a response, the two traded places with Thistle before beginning the long process of steadily manoeuvring their cloud a fair distance away, away from prying eyes.

Apollyon inhaled deeply, taking in a breath of nature, eyes closed, and upon opening them, he managed to catch sight of a lone feather free-falling from the corner of his eye.

Holding out a palm, he caught the brown feather long before it had a chance to embrace the grass.

Intrigued, he held up the feather to his face by the quill, staring inquisitively at it for a few moments before craning his head to the cloud infested sky. Hearing some disembodied humming, the feather was deformed under the weight of his crushing grip.

Awaiting the return of the scouts to hear of what news they bring of the foe they seek, these griffs occupied themselves to the best they possibly could, despite tensions being high and their emotional and mental state being on edge.

Some checked their weapons and armour for the hundredth time, others prayed to their Gods and held their charms close to their beaks. While the things they did were different, they all sought the same thing, some manner of comfort, an activity to distract themselves and keep dark unwanted thoughts at bay.

Showing no signs of deviating, they continued to do these as if they were on a loop, that is until the scouts announced their return with hard flaps and a not so subtle landing. Their return caused an unintentional uproar in the area, but it was quickly silenced once they realised that they… brought a plus one with them.

Everygriff stared at the plus one, gripping their weapons tightly and donning their plated armour, already fearing the worst.

Their respected Captain approached the scouts, proceeding to listen to their discoveries first, nodding appreciatively before diverting his attention to the familiar plus one; staring him down, “Still among the living I see, huh, Skeiron? ... What happened? Where did you and the others run off to?”

As Pontus and Thistle stepped to the side, Skeiron’s shaking legs failed to support him, he fell onto his knees, head low and eyes to the Captains front talons.

“S-sir, we didn’t run, we were captured, taken against our will… ” The Captain arched a brow. “... We were assaulted by… unholy griffons… they beat us down, bounded us and had this… light drag us off to a manor in the Everfree.”

The Captain nodded as he took in his words, “And how did you escape?”

Skeiron felt his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach, hesitating to provide a sufficient answer.

Luckily, nogriff seemed to urge him, instead they all held their breaths as they awaited his response, granting him a few seconds to strengthen his heart.

“Truth be told, Captain.” He started, head raising till his eyes locked onto the Captain’s. “I felt our Great Mother Prithvi smiling upon me. I felt her holy words grace my ears, guiding and leading me away from death and to my narrow escape. It was close… but safe to say, without Her, I wouldn’t have made it out.”

Dreading silence fell upon the group, as most or perhaps all awaited the Captain’s judgement. Their leader stared at Skeiron for what felt like an eternity, holding a contemplating expression about his face.

Eventually, once the expression faded away, everygriff held their breath as they awaited to hear Skeiron’s judgement - to see if this was the end of the line for him or not.

“Stand, Skeiron.” The Captain ordered, offering an open talon.

The griffon stared at the talon for a moment, only accepting it after the Captain leaned forward a bit more.

“Can you fight?” The Captain asked, patting the rising griff on the shoulder as well as glancing to his sheathed dagger.

“Y-yes sir, I’m a bit shaken, but I can fight.” He claimed, chest puffed out.

His leader hummed for a bit, eyeing him from top to bottom, but soon enough he seemed to be pleased by his answer, nodding appreciatively before turning to face the rest of the group, calling for their undivided attention to brief them on their next move.

“Warriors, time is of the essence, so I’ll keep this short. Your silence, composure and obedience is demanded.” The Captain paused for a moment - eyes jumping from solider to soldier. “Two of our comrades' lives are at the mercy of a bipedal creature, one who appears to be able to wield magick.”

They obediently continued to listen, focusing on the words of their leader.

“We don’t know the school he hails from, but we’ve seen what havoc he’s wreaked upon us… It’s unlikely that most of us, if any at all, will be walking away from this alive. But we’ve dealt with magick wielders before, and thus I have a strategy to deal with this one.”

Expressions of wrathful anger along with fiery determination in their eyes covered most of them. Talons clenching and easing their hold on their weapons, and continuing to repeat this process as the plan was swiftly given.

Positions were given, groups were formed and assigned, issues were pointed out and resolved, all that was left was the approach and the execution of the plan of attack… and a reminder, of course.

“Remember griffs, it's them or us. We’re either walking out of here and back to the guild with a trophy, or we’re walking in the clouds beside our ancestors and under the Divines themselves. If it is your destiny to die here, then make it a good one!” He smiled at the sight of instruments of death being raised high, it faded away when he dismissed them a moment later, however, “You all know what to do, so get to it!”

After one last set of nods, many griffons flared out their impressively sized wings before launching from the ground and into the sky, already setting out to the most dense and clustered up clouds they could find.

Soon, all that remained on the ground were four griffons: the Captain, Skeiron, Thistle and Pontus.

The one festooned in padded armour of linen and wool was the next to depart with Thistle and Pontus right behind him. But before they managed to even send a miniscule dust storm outwards in hopes of joining and aiding their comrades, the Captain prevented them from doing so, waving them over with a simple combined mix of gestures with his talon and head.

“Did you need something, sir?” Thistle asked, quite inquisitive as to why they were held back.

“Yes.” He confirmed, eyes and face displaying signs of anxiety and suspicion, “It’s about Skeiron… I would advise caution while you are both around him.”

“Suspecting something off about him?”

The Captain nodded, “Nogriff here can vouch for him, and he’s been unaccounted for quite some time. Divines know what he’s been exposed to, but that knowledge is reserved for them and them alone.”

“Do you think he will turn on us?”

“Unfortunately, I do.” He sighed, a talon being placed upon Thistle’s shoulder as his eyes glanced between the blood brother’s, “So whatever you do, keep an eye on him and keep a blade always within reach. Do I make myself understood?”

The two reacted quickly, standing at attention with a balled up talon going diagonally across their metal chest, “Yes sir!”

“Good. Now get back to it.” The Captain barked, sending the two on their way before he followed; soaring to the same height as his subordinates before coordinating and supervising their efforts. And thanks to his efforts, as well as the motivated spirits of his underlings, the griffons were already on the move, all within the time span of a few minutes.

Despite its intended intentions, the cloud covered approach was making great time, though to be fair, it was not like they were attempting to infiltrate a heavily monitored and secure area and insert themselves from the skies.

Just like the trio did before, the mercenaries forged a larger cloud with their bare talons and rode on it like a vehicle that was powered by wing power; A white fluffy aerial assault barge, carrying soldiers with violent and killer intentions.

Through the guidance of the scouts, and the coordinating efforts of the Captain, this group of mercenaries were approaching their desired destination; a clearing of green that was soon to be a battleground stained with liquid crimson and rotting corpses.

With the clearing in sight, the Captain demanded that the cloud comes to a full stop. Upon its non-existent movement, he ordered his soldiers to head to their assigned positions with their respective groups.

Some jumped off here, while the rest remained where they were.

The Captain was one of the few who jumped off, entrusting those on the clouds to uphold their task while he adhered to his.

After breaking through the shield of leaves, branches and vines, the Captain found himself landing on the ground with ease, but as he arose and prepared to direct his subordinates, he found that they were already making their way to the manor; using a loose line formation to comb the dense Everfree.

Although he was pleased with their initiative, he did not waste time passing praise, instead preferring to join the line as they made their approach, encroaching on the clearing with weapons drawn and ready, relying on the sounds of nature to drown out the clanging of their armour and the pounding of their racing hearts. But through acts of faith, not only did it ease the latter for most, but it also eased the tension in their minds and bodies.

Prayers for strength, favour, forgiveness, mercy and many more travelled from their hearts and departed their yellow beaks with intended destinations to their Gods above. But the harsh reality they had to accept was that it was uncertain if they or anygriff was going to answer… they could only hope that somegriff would.

In due time, the Captain and his small detachment of mercenaries arrived at the clearing. It should’ve been a pleasing sight to see a place not infested by clusters of trees with thick vines hanging down from them. But deep inside, they held feelings they would never admit: a feeling that the Everfree is perhaps safer than what is in that clearing.

The Captain then gave his orders, and though they were passed on in a whispering manner, the tone of the demands remained ever dominant and ever stern, “Keep yourselves concealed behind the trees, and be swift about it.”

Heeding to his will, they rushed to hide behind curved trees and shrubs, tucking in their wings and tails as to leave as little of their large bodies exposed to the risk of being seen by the eyes of their opponent.

Once they felt secure, pupils of various colours slowly edged out from obscuring cover, eyes shifting focus from brown tree bark to the field of green, the structure of stone and the figures who existed in front of it.

Flat on their sides, two griffons with sacks over their heads and chains acting as their bounds endured the sweltering heat of the sun bearing down on them. While the one standing perfectly upright, the one with apelike features and who held an ominous staff in his right hand enjoyed the shade in complete silence just a few steps behind them.

Curiosity seeped into their minds as they squinted their eyes at the ape, every one of them wondering the same thing: ‘What was he doing?’

Before long, other questions soon arose, sparking some manner of concern and second guessing within the hearts of the Captain’s subordinates.

“Why… is he just standing there… and doing nothing?”

“Is he waiting for something? Is he… waiting for us?”

“Is he expecting us? Did he know we were coming?”

“Should we strike now while his guard is down? Is his guard even down?”

“Are they even alive? Why aren’t they moving?”

“Is he baiting us? Is there some kind of malicious scheme at play here?”

“What should we do?”

“Captain, what should we do?”

As they turned to their leader, searching for some form of guidance for the path which they were to take, they found him staring at the ape with an inquisitive set of eyes. Nothing was heard, said or done, both from the Captain and his subordinates for quite a while, that is until a griff grew tired of waiting and stuck his head out to take another peak; one that he will regret for as long as his life remained.

Squinting his eyes, focusing his attention on the ape and nothing else, letting everything caught by his eyes become a blur, he scanned him from top to bottom, taking mental notes ranging from anything as large as the staff he held or to the attire he sported.

Eyes once again running up from his shoes to his head, the griffon’s eyes trespassed across his eyelids, of which retracted open, showing off a pair of glowing purple pupils who traced the origin of the gaze back to the source.

The impatient griffon recoiled slightly, gasping as he did so, but he refused to retreat into hiding, instead he leaned further in, eyes wandering the structure of the face until he caught sight of a scene of the ape flexing up a malicious smile and baring his white canines.

Heart skipping a beat, his eyes bare white with no pupils in sight, the mercenary appeared to be paralysed as he continued to engage into a staring contest with the ape. Though his body was frozen, his mind was not; he simply retained the ability to think but not to act.

Strangely so, whether in a spiritual or physical manner, he could feel himself losing ground the longer the duel went on. His eyes grew heavy as his soul experienced the sensation of a weighted object bearing down on him, vision slowly being consumed by the blackness creeping in from the outer parts of his sight.

And when he tried to resist - expending sheer mental willpower to repel the ape’s influence - it only led him down a path that tested him.

In the initial stages of resisting, the griffon barely managed to crack a crooked smile as well as moving his digits in a twitchy manner, perhaps even to go as far as to briefly flex or tense up his muscles. But with the passing of a few seconds, the ability to do these things faded into obscurity as the shifting, tensing and flexing of his body entered into a state of stagnation.

No longer was he capable of moving or feeling anything, and it was just a matter of time until his influence began a hostile takeover, the ape enforcing his will upon his form. Within seconds, the griffon’s movements were not his own as he was forced to watch his body ignore his demands, favouring a foreign influence one.

Loss of the physical aspect of his body only left two more territories to be conquered. That being what laid within; his spirit and his mind. Leaving no time for respite, the siege and conquest of these territories began swiftly, and already the consequences have begun to show.

The sounds of high-pitched whirring overwhelmed his ears, he could feel the presence of cold voices clawing at his soul and his mind, tearing down defences and obstacles with ease to reach their prize.

And just as the light seemed to fade from his eyes for the final time, the griffon was pulled to the side, falling on the ground harshly.

In these opening moments of being spared of meeting his Gods in person, nothing left his beak other than dry, heavy coughs, rapid panting and the wet liquid contents inside.

Once he had recovered from coughing up his lungs and spitting out his saliva, he looked up, finding several sets of griffon eyes staring right at him, all holding their breath as they gripped at their weapons anxiously.

Fortunately, before anything rash had been done, everygriffs mind was turned to the direction in which the sounds of a voice and shifting plates of metal came from.

“I believe we’re expected, griffs…” He said ominously, withdrawing from his cover and returning his blade to its leather holding before continuing, “I’m going out there.”

This immediately provoked a bewildered and shocked reaction from his underlings, who in turn attempted to protest such actions, but a brief stern oppressive stare reminded them of their position, compelling them to back down.

“Good.” The Captain said, “Now, weapons down and keep your tempers in check. I’ll approach alone to see what he has to say. But above all: remain vigilant. I surely do not need to remind you of what magick wielders are capable of.”

Some griffons nodded while most didn’t, for they chose to remain silent and appear to be willing to go along, despite it being a flawed idea.

The Captain revealed himself, announcing his presence in the form of pushing away branches and bushes as he stepped into the clearing, showing no signs of fear in the presence of the ape’s haunting gaze and colossal size of the manor.

He approached on all fours; leaving the marks of his hybrid body upon the grass as he steadily made his way to the prisoners.

Even one as experienced as himself, the Captain still could not prevent his body from reacting as he neared the ape. His blood boiled, his wings twitched uncomfortably, and he struggled to maintain a calm, neutral face.

A raised palm directed at him compelled him to stop in his tracks; stopping before the prisoners whose coat appeared to be coarse and rough while parts of their feathered layers appeared to be plucked off.

“That’s far enough, xenos gryphon.” Apollyon warned, catching sight of the way the Captain flinched, to which he smirked at.

No one said anything. Not even those who spectated from afar; letting the winds and the wolves howl as they anxiously awaited to see who would make the next move.

“So, the leader of this particular company of degenerate xenos mercenaries arrives at last.” Then with a palm faced up, the ape then gestured to the prisoners in a way as if he were presenting an object of value to a guest of honour, ”As you can see before you: We have been waiting.”

The griffon growled as he glanced between the prisoners and Apollyon.

“I must confess. I was rather… peeved that you continued to persist in transgressing against us, despite half of your company being annihilated by our hands, or should I say… by yours.“ He witnessed the eyes of the griffon twitch. “But in the end you persisted, that’s… something I respect, and yet that’s something I resent.”

The Griffon Captain didn’t say anything.

“I had hope that by wiping half of you out and reclaiming our own, it would teach your dim minded kind a lesson.” He began shaking his head, “Unfortunately, that would not appear to be the case.”

Eyes alight with fury and hatred, already consciously picturing himself committing violent, bloody actions against the ape.

“An ape has strayed from his dirty tribe… Why? Why are you here?” He questioned, making no effort to mask the pain-filled hate in his voice.

Apollyon chuckled for a moment, the sets of his canines briefly revealing themselves, “Is the term ape meant to be degrading to us humans?”

“I care not about insults or what your tribe calls themselves, ape! Now, why are you here?”

“Oh, you know, the usual…” Sparking supernatural forces to life, a smile plastered itself on his face as he witnessed the griffon get startled responding to his actions. And with a hand raised to his face, he flipped it over to its palm and back repeatedly, continuing, “Touring a foreign land, extinguishing fires, protecting our charges… eradicating xenos, you know, the usual.” He ended, a grim look about his face.

The Captain glared at the ape, struggling to ease the growing tension in his stiffening neck and tight shoulders even as he released the hilt of his sword.

“Come now, gryphon. Lose the sour face, for we are currently living a rather memorable moment. One that you will never forget.”

“And what would that be, ape?”

“... Your finest hour.”

Perplexed, the griffon was left wanting to know more, unable to resist becoming inquisitive.

“What are you talking about? Explain yourself! Speak sense!”

“Don’t worry about it, for you, will witness it yourself soon enough. But for now, I will allow the transfer of my prisoners over to your charge. They’re your problem now, as they always have been.”

The ape then took several steps back, giving the Captain some breathing room to attend to his mercenaries while he continued stepping back deeper into the looming shadow of the manor.

The Captain didn’t budge a bit, however, a pair of suspicious eyes seeking any signs of deception on the ape’s part.

The bipedal creature did little, but smiled back, the ends of his boots pointing outwards while the ominous staff his hand wrapped around leaned out to the side in a diagonal manner.

Even with the ape displaying himself in the open in a non-threatening manner, the Captain still approached the two with caution, all while keeping a pair of vigilant eyes on the ape, for the threat came not in physical prowess, but in arcane magicks.

He fell on his knees once he had eventually reached them, eyes assessing the chain bound prisoners who look like they’ve been through Hell and back before his talons pulled one up back onto his knees.

“C-captain?” One of them called out faintly, his voice young, distinct and barely a whisper.

Their leader made a move to put their minds at ease, as he heard the desperation and wavering hope in the griff's weak voice.

“It’s me Kid.” He said, “Don’t talk, save your strength. We’re going to get you home.”

The Kid didn’t say anything, choosing to instead focus on his breathing, an action to which it sounded like he was struggling with, much like finding the strength to stay upright. Reasons being that his breathing was obnoxiously louder than it needed to be, and his body constantly drifted from one side to the other and were subject to fall were it not for the aid of his leader.

“A shame really.” The ape remarked, catching the Captain freeze for a moment before carrying on with his assessment. “A waste of a young, spirited life; One that held great potential, like most young do.”

The Captain continued, giving no notice to the ape.

“... And like most young; Their great potential is squandered by foolish endeavours imposed onto them by the old, bitter and power hungry.” He paused as he caught a death filled glance from the Captain, to which he smiled at. “Like, say something as petty as mercenary work… wouldn’t you agree?”

Unfortunately, it would be left without a proper response as the griffon’s attention was divided between his subordinates. He slowly removed the sack, eyes staring in shock as he processed the sight.

Just like the sack, the Kid’s feathered layers were soaked in blood and tears, while his cracked yellow beaks might’ve just been the colour of dried crimson. But he was more fixated on the Kid’s eyes; pale and cloudy, almost deprived of life in contrast to his young spirited ones prior.

Despite what his feelings desired, he could not afford the time to express his sincere apologies, instead he leaned in close, but kept his beak just shy of the sight of the ape’s eyes.

“Can you fight, son? Or walk at the very least?”

The Captain would be left wanting an answer from the Kid, as his attention appeared to be elsewhere while his body gently swayed from left to right.

Their leader steadied him and kept him centre before also attempting to keep the Kid’s head up, which leaned heavily to one side.

“Hey, stay with me, son. The living are not done with you yet.”

The Kid didn’t seem convinced, eyes half lidded, and staring into the far distance as he fell to one side.

The Captain refocused his efforts into trying to keep him awake, letting him fall to the ground, favouring pushing, shaking and shouting at the Kids form, “No, no, no, no! Stay with me, kid!”

He continued this process for a while, but despite his efforts, the last remnants of life departed his body, leaving nothing behind but a corpse.

And once one was gone, he rushed over to check the other, who unfortunately had departed the mortal plain as well.

After a few moments of silence, he leaned back on his heels, sighed and shook his head, his forelegs already beginning the process of removing their tags.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, gently patting their forms before rising.

“A young fruitful life wasted... in the pursuit of glory.” Apollyon remarked, “He could’ve made a great soldier to a warlord some day, much like the rest of you.”

The griffon clenched his talons, brows narrowed, addressing him with a frown, “You aren’t going to let us leave… are you?”

Much to his dismay, the ape began chuckling lowly, shaking his head with disbelief.

“No. I’m not.”

Wings twitching and body shifting anxiously, his tail swayed side to side at a mediocre pace as he had another stare down with the ape.

“Remember, xeno… This is your finest hour. Why in the merciful name of Anima would you ever want to leave?” He asked, a look the griffon could only describe as malicious plastered on the ape’s face, feeling a cold aura of dread emanating from his hairless form.

Despite the amount of open space around them, one felt himself as cornered as a rat, leaving them one option; one real way that held any real chance of them getting home.

Using his tail that swayed idly in the wind, he raised it high, shaped it up into a hook and pulled down.

The moment that was done, several bolts that came from various angles whizzed through the air, their iron heads set on a bipedal target of flesh and bone.

The moment they flew, the Captain dived out of the way and laid in a prone position until the threat of friendly fire was over.

Recognising the threat that came his way at a rapid pace, Apollyon did little but raise a brow at the onset of incoming bolts.

Upon nearing their target, Regana arose from the earth and flocked over to Apollyon’s side, emitting unstable waves of and sparks of psykanic energies.

The waves shattered the bolts mid-air, while miniature lightning struck those that remained whole and in the air, deforming them into ashes.

All that remains of their initial sneak attack laid on the ground; ashes that followed the gusts of the wind and splinters of wood and bent iron heads.

Everygriff who witnessed the performance stared on with wide-eyes and with beaks hanging open, their minds still processing the event just a few moments ago.

Apollyon took their shocked faces as his cue to shift his attention to Regana, her psykanic fury beginning to subside as his hand gently caressed her corporeal form.

“My thanks, my dear.” He whispered sincerely, receiving a series of melodic tunes in response.

Thrown into a rage, the Captain rushed onto his hind legs, drew his sword and charged the man, keeping his pent-up anger inside until the last possible second, that is until the Mantle sparked to life and released an ear-piercing banshee-like shriek into the air, forcing every griffon in the vicinity to ground.

Winged quadrupeds rained from above, crashing onto the field harshly with no given opportunity to use their wings to slow their fall, while griffons hidden in the treeline expose themselves to Apollyon as they fell forward, rolling on their sides with talons planted to the sides of their helmets.

Nevertheless, each of them suffered under the Mantle’s fury; Crying out guttural screams from the bottom of their lungs, begging for the noises that overwhelmed their senses to stop.

“MAKE THEM STOP!” Each one of them yelled, “MAKE THEM STOP, THE VOICES! MAKE THE VOICES STOP!”

Apollyon and Regana watched observed the spectacle from where they stood, one checking the time on his pocket watch nonchalantly while the other let the notes of her soothing songs flow into his ears.

And with his eyes occupied with the thinnest hand ticking over to the next numeral in line, a gap emerged between the cries of the mercenaries, being filled in with pained groans and ragged breaths.

Helmets flew off their heads and came tumbling along the grass as they removed them, in hopes of blocking out the so-called ‘voices.’

Apollyon watched them squirm and flail about a little more, and only after deciding if they had enough, did he snap his fingers, signalling the Mantle to cease its assault, which left the only screams in the field to belong to the griffons.

With their screams beginning to die down, Apollyon made his way towards the Captain with long strides in his steps, crouching low to the ground once he had arrived near his head.

“Is that all you have to offer, gryphon?” He asked, scoffing, “Just some primitive bolts and some pain filled screams and begging? In all honesty, I expected more from a species who claims to be superior to Ponykind and their so-called ‘Gods.’”

Ears still ringing and with vision blurred beyond all recognition, the Captain's talons wrapped themselves around the closest thing he could identify, that being Apollyon’s boots.

“Stand, gryphon! Put your strength up for display! Prove to your non-existent Gods that you’re worthy of entering your non-existent kingdom in the sky!”

With that said, Apollyon pulled his leg away with ease, finding the Captain’s hold on him to be feeble, as he expected.

All the Captain could do look up at an undefined figure, brows narrowing as his talons furrowed themselves into the dirt, leaving their mark behind as tried to stand up on all fours, “D-damn, ape!” He spat, face meeting the dirt once his legs gave out.

A heavy sigh left Apollyon’s mouth, shaking his head disappointingly at the griffons before he turned his backs to them, eyes set on his faithful companion.

Arms wide open with palms facing the pale blue sky, he bellowed from the bottom of his lungs, “Come, Regana! Display true strength to these lowlifes! Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!”

Heeding to his commands, agitated flames and lightning began to grow out of control as her form grew brighter, and without being interrupted, the entity emitted a brief flash of blinding light - a light so immensely powerful that it shined through forelegs or arms and eyelids shielding one's eyes.

Everyone shielded their eyes and looked away, some even to go as far as to show them their backs. But in the end, as the coruscation passed and the sounds of intense crackling of fire and lightning fading away, they turned their eyes to face the wisp, only finding themselves staring at an equally strange yet familiar phenomenon.

A glowing purple translucent form of a giant wolf with a set of plain blank white eyes with irises being non-existent. A single white marking of a candelabra that was displayed proudly on its forehead, chest and hind spots. And within its translucent form, around the area of the wolf’s translucent furry chest of where the heart would be located, resided the entity herself.

The griffons uttered shocked gasps with the slow appearance of a growing set of jagged canine teeth. Their heart plummeting into the abyss of their stomach as aggressive snarls and territorial growling was directed at them.

With a hand, Apollyon felt up her leg, running the appendage through its glowing fur. He could feel a warm life-giving sensation pulsating from the wolf’s core throughout the body, with the form of the entity brightening up and dimming down, mimicking the rhythm of a soothing heartbeat.

His hand soon returned to his side after giving it a series of pats, his cold stare now falling solely on the fallen Captain, who was kind enough to do the same, “Rather fascinating… Wouldn’t you agree? Such a magnificent being, a beautiful creation of Anima; one that will break the status quo of the world.”

The griffon angled his head and spat out a projectile of gathered saliva onto the grass, an action that made Apollyon shake his head before he continued to watch the xeno focus on his recovery, with his subordinates doing the same.

Though despite his efforts blocking his voice out, focusing on regulating his breathing whilst also seeking for some form of spiritual or physical strength to stand, he couldn’t help but pay heed as something alarming passed his lips.

“Get them.” Apollyon said, withdrawing from Regana’s side and planting his rear and leaning back on the manor’s stone steps, with the Mantle right beside him.

All eyes fell upon Regana, most overtaken with fear, dread and worry as they identified her as the foe they were to face.

That is, if they possessed the courage to confront her.

“Fight or flee. I care not which, for you, will serve me well either way.”

Apollyon tested the griffon's patience when he curled up a smile, forcing the Captain to rise with his sword in his grasp, now directing its pointed edge at him.

“So what will it be, human?! Fight or flee?”

Apollyon raised a brow, nonchalantly pulling out his pocket watch to glance at the time before lowering it and looking at the griffon, “Neither.”

The Captain recoiled slightly back, looking as he was somewhat offended by his response, “Why not? Are you apes too cowardly to fight your battles? Stop cowering behind some relative of an ursa and face us like a real warrior!”

Apollyon lightly chuckled, ignoring the insults and provocative statements as his eyes shifted over to the lifeless prisoners, “You should’ve listened to that kid’s stories more often. If you did, then you could’ve had a chance at a more fulfilling life.”

Swiftly, the leader glanced at the Kid, locked onto his cloudy eyes, mind flashing back to all the stories told.

“But it's too late now,” The man continued, gathering the griffon’s attention. “And I grow bored with this conversation. Take them.” He ended with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Regana howled to the skies above before charging the Captain, shaking the earth with each step.

Surprisingly, he managed to centre and keep himself balanced and thus stood his ground in face of the colossal threat. Once in melee range, he bravely unleashed an opening thrust directed to her nose, not expecting it to hit but hoping it would deter a swift lunge attack.

And it worked, just like he thought it would.

Seeing the wolf hold back, confidence surged in the Captain. He stepped forward, thrusting and swinging his sword, but despite the increase in aggression, he always returned to a guard position.

His boldness inspired his subordinates to recover and move in to support their leader as quickly as possible.

Some took to the skies while others remained on the ground, but they equally tested Regana’s capabilities.

So far, she had dodged every attack flawlessly, strangely, even when her eyes were drawn elsewhere. But with numbers on the griffon's side, they knew it was only a matter of time till her luck ran out.

Not seeing anything but growls and barks come their way, the mercenaries grew bolder and more reckless. Dangerously closing in, well, within striking distance of mouth and paws alike.

And just as they were going to make an aggressive push to do some damage, she struck back and drew first blood.

Gracefully slipping a griffon’s thrust, she exploited his blindside, getting a mouthful of hybrid eagle before chomping down, teeth crushing bone and armour with minimal effort.

When the others moved in to strike the wolf, bellowing out a vengeful battle cry, every griffon in the vicinity felt the impact of a highly dense concentrated amount of kinetic energy. Those on the ground were sent to the treeline they appeared from, while those in the air were sent further beyond, crash landing somewhere in the Everfree.

And as they moaned and groaned and tried to recoup after having the wind knocked out of them, Regana shook the earth with a stomp, bringing into existence a series of oddities.

Rifts of arcane energies tore itself into reality near each griffon. It shifted and reformed itself into a vortex or a whirlpool of differing shades of purple with particles of the same energy rising, following an anticlockwise motion much like the rift itself.

With the sudden manifestation of such an anomaly, it was only natural for the mercenaries to try and crawl away; Entrenching their decrepit talons into the soil and pulling on blades of grass just to gain a few centimetres of ground.

But regardless of how hard they forced themselves, even with adrenaline, urgency and purpose pushing them, their efforts could never be enough.

From within the abyss of the rifts, an uncounted number of dark, identical chains shot out into the world with malicious intent. They each wrapped themselves around the closest limb, preventing them from fleeing.

Though it didn’t stop some from trying.

Some resisted; pulling on their chains in a vain attempt to loosen it, while others were still content on trying to flee.

They were so narrowly focused on their own goals that they failed to notice more cold chains slithering towards them in a snake-like pattern, and by the time they did, it was already too late…

Metal links latched onto their limbs and secured them down, giving the opportunity for the other seemingly living pieces of metal to creep up their limbs or circle them like predatory sharks.

Panic had ensued once cold chain links had secured themselves around winged appendages and armoured torsos. With primal cries being let loose from their beaks as those same chains strangled the life out of them.

And those who resisted endured a crueller fate than those who did not.

Their lower fur coats bled crimson, while their upper feathered layers would be rubbed harshly off their skin, granting real estate for a number of shameless brands to be imprinted upon.

As blackened chains heated up into a fiery magma orange, their cries intensified, sending nearby wildlife into a cowering frenzy, seeking refuge in their homes and among their kind until the ongoing conflict subsided.

“Throw Skeiron and some others to the side.” Apollyon ordered, making the entity crane her head in his direction, “I need some to be capable of limping back home to their nests. For what good are messengers if they arrive at their location unable to fulfil their purpose?”

There came no response from her, but there did not need to be any, for it came in the form of deeds.

She turned her attention back to the mercenaries and did what was demanded.

As per his will, the chains had Skeiron and a few randomly selected harshly tossed aside like how a child discards unwanted toys. The others weren’t so lucky, being forced to be branded against their will, the pain being so incomprehensible that some passed out or died outright while those who possessed a more brutal and stubborn will screamed at the top of their lungs with bleeding vocal cords and yet continued to endure and live.

“Some fine warriors here.” Apollyon claimed, passing them a brief nod of solemn respect, “But… it is a shame they have sealed their fate. Dispose of them.”

Regana acted without hesitation, already utilising her mental will to pick up their weapons and direct their pointed ends at those who remained chained, naturally lining up a shot in the gaps or the weak points of their armour.

As their blades remained suspended high above the ground, she craned her head over to Apollyon, seeking his final approval and with a response that came in a grim nod, their own respective weapons came crashing down to their desired targets, ending their lives quickly and putting an end to their suffering, with the last thing they saw being an unholy form of an abomination as the life in their defiant eyes faded into obscurity.

And so, the chains retreated from whence they came, uncoiling themselves from impaled corpses, retracting back into the enshrouded depths of the rifts, and compelling the anomalies to cease to exist; Rapidly shrinking and collapsing in on itself until it was nothing but a humble, harmless purple speck of what it once was.

Skeiron and those lucky enough to be tossed aside like a rag doll and those who were luckier to remain conscious for a chance to recover could do nothing but stare at the bloody scene in mere shock. Eyes engulfed with disbelief and their beaks open.

Apollyon chose this as the moment to address them; Getting off his rear and walking to Regana’s side, he began speaking to the griffons, starting with a gesture to those who laid behind him.

“Let this be a message to all those who will or have transgressed against us. Those behind us had the privilege and the honour of being the first to fall before our unrivalled might - May them and others like them continue to follow suit.” He paused for a moment, now gesturing to the griffons before him, “I now grant you this moment to depart, gryphons. Seek out your guild, seek out your masters, we have full intent of bestowing the same privilege and honour to them as we have to those behind us.”

The griffons were paralysed with indecision; With most looking at each other, seeking some form of guidance on which path to take. Though soon enough, one of those who remained rose from the dirt and pushed himself up onto his hind legs, blade drawn and at-the-ready.

This had surely caught Apollyon’s attention, whose expression turned neutral as others followed that griffon’s lead, except for one, who slowly limped into the treeline.

“Fool…” The first griffon spat, “You give us terms that both lead to a dead end… Which of them do you think we are prone to choose?”

Apollyon stayed silent for a moment, a dissapointed frown taking shape on his face, “Very well then. A good death it is.”

He then looked to Regana, who in turn looked to him; seeking orders. After being given a simple nod, she let out a drawn out howl before making her cautious approach, growling as she did so.

Most of those who remained stood firm on their own, while some others trembled in the face of certain death, but a primal cry from the first griffon compelled them to stand strong with their comrades.

“Pain now; Reward in the afterlife!” The griffon shouted, his sword raised high, “Charge!”

The other griffons charged into certain doom, with fear and the instinct to flee suppressed from the resulting battle cry.

Regana charged in turn, closing the distance quickly with her long strides, leading to the griffons to halt their advance and collectively brace themselves for the impact. Standing together, and pointing the ends of their bladed weapons at the entity, the frontline attempted to thrust their mixture of swords and spears into her chest.

But before they could pull off such a feat, a burst of blinding holy light erupted from the wisp that laid in the creature’s chest, quickly blinding the griffons frontline before Regana rammed straight into them, shattering the line and crushing two underneath her weight.

The griffons tried to move quickly to recover and stabilise in order to fight back, but they were never given a chance, for Regana mauled them down, showing no mercy nor hesitation. But as she was terminating one griffon, she narrowly dodged a spear, one that barely grazed the top of her muzzle.

Looking in the direction in which the spear came, her ears flattened back as she growled and bared her teeth at a pair of injured and weary griffons

“Nice throw, Pontus.” One jabbed, passing him a sword that laid on the ground.

“Shut up, Thistle.” The other retorted, readying his blade.

Regana slowly approached the two, stopping just short of them before steadily moving back in an attempt to keep both in sight as they tried to keep to her sides.

“You know what they say… the bigger they are, they harder they-” Pontus suddenly let out a deafening shriek the moment he felt a burning pain in his side. Vision blurred and breathing heavy, the surrounding sounds faded in and out as his head slowly craned over to his side.

He quickly identified a foreign object embedded deep within him, one that was enveloped in a purple aura, it pierced the chain mail just underneath the plate, causing crimson red to flow. The moment the aura dissipated into thin air, the will and strength to stand departed his body, forcing him to crash onto his knees and fall onto his right side, with indistinct figures and voice being the last thing he saw or heard before all became black.

“Pontus!” Thistle cried out, staring at the lifeless body.

He wouldn’t stay stunned for long, for he began bellowing out a battle cry as he moved in with his sword held just behind his head to hack. His form spilling with righteous fury, he brought it up high over his head and down to slash at the entity. But she swiftly and gracefully cut an angle and swatted with a front paw from behind, sending the griffon across the area until he was forcefully halted by a tree.

Despite the harsh impact he endured, Thistle kept moving, albeit very slow and minor. There was an attempt to push himself up, but after the sounds of loud pops and cracks, he dropped to his side; shrieking until his lungs were deprived of oxygen.

Panting heavily, he kept his mind centred on the methods of his breathing, trying to keep it slow and methodical as his constricted pupils jumped from corner to corner. His hearing began to fade in and out, with the only sound being distinctly heard was his heart, which pounded inside his chest. Though, it began to pick up the pace the moment his eyes locked onto Apollyon, who crouched before him.

“Your stalwart courage demands commendation, gryphon. Your kind has always proven to display such feats in the face of such... abnormality. Were circumstances different...” He held his tounge, eyes flashing as they widened, "...No. The offences committed are punishable by death."

Apollyon held out a hand, one festooned with a glowing blanket of purple, before resting it on Thistle’s forehead, “May you rest peacefully in Her warm, eternal embrace.”

Thistle’s enraged expression softened upon his touch, his heart rate slowed and the lids of his eyes grew heavy. Within seconds, his tense body eased up slightly, eyes shut and breathing seemingly ceased. After that, it didn’t take long for his body to settle and relax completely.

Apollyon remained there in absolute silence for a few moments, only rising and returning to Regana’s side once he was ready. As he repeatedly ran a hand through her translucent fur, his eyes stared at a certain part of the Everfree.

Upon hearing a series of incoherent whispers, he relented, “I see… Well then, keep me updated and make sure nothing disturbs his journey, will you, my dear?”

She paid him a nod moment before he sighed and headed in the direction of the stone steps. Hearing one last howl and witnessing a bright flash originating from behind, he found himself walking alongside a floating Regana without her wolf extension.

“With Skeiron already gone, we must deal with the passing of his disgraced band of mercenaries.”

Regana’s form brightened with a set of whispers.

“No.” He said sternly, “You must rest while there is no conflict. Have some menials strip them of anything useful before piling them up somewhere elsewhere and torching their bodies.”

Again, more whispers though with her entire form glancing towards the manor.

Apollyon sighed, his hand massaging his temples for a few moments before he spoke, “Though I wish for nothing to hold them in my arms and seclude myself for the day. Unfortunately, I must inspect the local populace. The mercenaries weren’t exactly subtle, and so it is likely the populace are in uproar and in immediate need of pacification, so it is dire that I attend to them.”

Regana emitted a series of melodic chimes whilst briefly shaking.

“Yes. Rest well. If I need you, I will summon you.”

Her form radiated brightly just moments before she retreated through the manor doors. And with their exchange complete, he stood at the top of the stairs with the Mantle at his side and a hand behind his back, witnessing menial wisps litter the field and carrying out the duties set out for them.

Author's Note

Comments and criticism are highly appreciated and more than welcome :twilightsmile: