Everywhere and Nowhere

As the late afternoon rolled in, the clouds had finally parted to let sunlight through, its rays shimmering off the blue-grassy terrain. A mild breeze brushed over Beatrix and her scant attire, flowing with the wind while she looked over the steady decline. Ahead was the seaside, and beyond it, a veil of thick mist that whirled over the waves. The adventurous mage half expected a ghost ship to sail out, given how mythical the Lost World was. Any story could turn out true!

“We’ll need tae sail if we're tae reach th' stronghold near Equestria’s borders, ” Oona reminded, standing by her side.

“Sail? As in…on a boat?” The violet mare asked, bending forward to scan the shoreline. Outside of one rickety dock, there wasn’t a boat or ship in sight. The party moved on and settled into a spot in the meadows where they waited.

“Relax,” the sheep insisted, placing both hands on Beatrix’s tense shoulders, rubbing tenderly. “We have a mukker who’ll help us over. But fur now, we must prepare. ”

The witch scrunched her snout while reluctantly nodding, trying her best to be patient. It was better for her that she fully grasped her archaic trait. Beatrix found one large half-buried stone, wiping off some dirt before she and Cerise took a seat as their male companions prepared for their sparring session. Both the ram and pegasus began to remove their armor pieces to stretch out their limbs. Beatrix summoned a plate on her lap and produced two teacups.

“Handy,” Cerise commented in wonder, watching as her friend pulled out a kettle from her inner cape, brown liquid pouring out with hot steam. “Ohhh, is that-?”

“Tea helps my mind focus,” Beatrix admitted with a smile. She and Flurry Heart set up this equipment, initially used for alchemy. But now, the witch used it to brew tea, filling the atmosphere with a rich aroma that tickled their nostrils.

“Mmm, so good! Imma gonna need that formula afterward!” Cerise giggled, accepting the cup as the two mares blew off the steam before taking a delicate sip, letting the warmth spread through their bodies.

“Sorry, I can’t! It’s a family secret,” Beatrix teased, winking at her.

“Ye should be payin’ attention, lassie,'' Dion proclaimed loudly, looking over his blade. “These are techniques ye outta be applyin’ tae yerself.”

“O-oh, I am! Trust me, I’ll be taking notes,” Beatrix insisted, though her eyes had already begun to wander, distracted by her teacher’s scarred physique once he removed his cape and pauldron. The eager witch couldn’t help lick at her lips before pushing them to her cup’s rim, slurping down more tea. She glanced to Oona, who had taken a seat beside her while humming in thought.

All three ladies watched as their fellow fighters sized each other up and down in preparation, muscles taut and ready. Midnight had finished tossing aside his armor, the breastplate the last removed, exposing his bulging muscles much like his partner, with only a loincloth wrapped over his groin. His ears perked up, hearing his wife whistle at him, where the blue pegasus responded with a smirk and a wink.

“Haaaa.… So dreamy~” Cerise sighed as little hearts fluttered in her eyes, hands cupping her cheeks.

“A'richt, laddie. Let’s set some ground rules,” Dion requested, cracking the joints out of his neck. “You’re free tae add any kicks or punches as ye like, but Ah expect ye tae focus on usin` yer weapon. Yer nae tae try tappin’ intae that hidden braun 'til Ah say sae. Got it?”

“Got it!” Midnight agreed, twirling his spear around his body before taking a battle stance. “The same goes to you too, right? You won’t be using your Onoma?”

The ram chuckled. “Oh, trust me. Ah won’t be needin' it. ”

This made the pegasus’ eyebrows furrow. “Hey, don’t get cocky! I thought you said you wouldn’t hold anything back!”

“Weel, you’ll have tae make me use it, won’t ye?” Dion taunted back, a broad smile to his lips before he took his stance.

“Don’t tak' this seriously, you two,” Lady Ewe reminded, with Cerise nodding in worry. She knew her husband well enough to know that he could go a bit too further than necessary.

“Ah, don’t get yer fleece riled up, Oona. A bawherr freendly banter ne'er hurt anyone~!”

The two warriors circled each other before Midnight made the first move, lunging forward. But unlike the more nimble Penumbra, Dion forced his blow down with one swing of his claymore before shoving his body to push the pegasus back. Midnight stumbled a bit before regaining his footing, a little shaken. “W-whoa! I knew you’d be strong, but holy!”

“Heh. A’ve climbed mountains wit logs an' boulders over mah back, makin' mah way up an' down 'til exhaustion caught up,” the warrior ram explained before swinging his sword from across, clanging against Midnight’s weapon. “What kind ov trainin' did ye participate in, hmm?”

“Hngh! We had an obstacle course, protocols, a lot of stretching and routines, times ten if we failed or got too tired!” Midnight grunted, trying to get more offensive in his strikes as steel rang with each daunting blow.

“Pha! Ye’ll need a lot mair than basic military shite if ye want tae protect yer herd, Midnight. Now quit thinkin’ about yer wife’s udders an' give me a barnie!”

That response got the sparks flying off their precise strokes, the pegasus managing to shove the ram back a couple times while taking the blunt force of Dion’s sword. Despite the trash talk, the spar remained civil; everyone gathered, aware they needed to challenge each other for the road ahead.

Yet Beatrix couldn’t shake off how impatient she was, tapping her heeled boot as frustration and dread mounted over her head. They should be moving, trying to make as much time possible to save her daughter! Who knows how far ahead Zeloph was?

A gentle hand stroked her thigh, drawing her eyes back to her lover, who smiled calmly at her with a knowing gaze. The witch took a deep breath as her tapping steadily slowed, calming her nerves with her drink. They would get there, she told herself. They were going to get Abby back.

“Eep!” Cerise cried, hands covering her mouth as Midnight got hit in the chest, the blunt blow knocking his spear out of his grasp as he tumbled into the meadow.

Dion stood over, panting, wiping his brow of sweat. “Stand up,” he ordered. “Keep fightin’!”

Growling lowly, Midnight steeled himself to his feet, leaping forward to retrieve his spear. But Dion intercepted with a swift knee to his face, once more knocking the pegasus down. The stallion groaned, holding his swollen cheek while glaring up at his opponent.

“Ye’re becomin' tae predictable, laddie,” Dion snorted. “Again!!”

“Gyaaaagh!” Midnight sounded off, spreading his wings to try and overpower the arrogant ram. Yet each beat was missed before Dion dropped his sword to take hold of Midnight’s plumage, delivering a hard kick into his gut before repeating with a stiff knee. Saliva flew out his gaping mouth before raising his head, only for Dion to headbutt him back into the ground.

“O-ooowww fuck! F-fucking bastard..!!” He groaned, clutching his head.

“An' ye ca' yerself a fighter? A’ve fought against proud stallions an' mares who put up a better rammy than this. Ye're nothin’ mair than an amateur, ” Dion stated in disappointment.

“Dion, stop!” Cerise yelled, glaring at the ram. “You’re going way too hard on him!”

“Butt out, princess, ” he barked back. “This isn’t yer fight. This is th' only way tae get through tae stubborn stallions. Sae... ” He picked up his sword before tossing the pegasus his spear, letting him stand back up before retaking a stance. “Ah think now's a good time tae call out th' beast, isnit?”

Midnight huffed, soaked in perspiration before giving a short nod. Despite the knowledge that this was a sparring match, anger began pumping through the pegasus.

How dare Dion get the upper hand of him. He was better than this. And as Midnight drew out more strength, his muscles slowly expanded in size, his green eyes gleaming while the whiteness drowned in red. With a loud yell, he lunged for the warrior with almost savage blows, finally taking the offensive that pushed Dion back.

“C’mon, laddie! Shaw me th' hyper stallion! A’ve taken jobbies that hurt harder than this!"

“Gnnagh! Shut up!!”

“Make me, ye empty-heided tumshie!”

Their brawl became more physical and aggressive, each blow making Cerise cringe and shield her eyes, unable to watch her husband get pummeled. Beatrix, too, grew concerned at the contest’s sudden change in pace. “Don’t you think your brother’s taking things too far? Shouldn’t we stop them?”

“Aye, he is,” Oona agreed, lips pursed. “But ye have tae understand. That’s just how our people motivate each other.”

“What do you mean?” Cerise asked.

“Part ov th' chieftain’s duty is tae ensure that his clansmen can defend not only themselves but thair famlies as well. An' none valued that mair than our faither. He wis exactly as raucle an' harsh when trainin’ Dion; out of necessity an' love. He wanted mah brother tae become th' man he was meant tae be sae that one day, Dion can take over as clan chief. That is why mah brother is strict wit Midnight. He wants only th' best for him.”

Cerise bit her lip, conflicted. While she could appreciate the reasoning, she still didn’t like how brutal their spar had become as, looking back to the pair, Midnight had collapsed to his knees, panting heavily, bruises and cuts drawing red lines over his arms and chest. The pegasus struggled to get back, looking up to Dion, equally as battered.

With a deep sigh, Midnight lowered his head. “Okay.… I-I yield!”

Cerise almost let out a sigh of relief, glad this was over. That was until Dion seized Midnight by his throat and lifted him. The hyper stallion limbs and wings flailed in alarm, startled by the absolute fury in the ram’s crimson eyes.

“Ye wot?” He said in a low tone.

“I-I yield! I said I yield!” Midnight choked. “Isn’t that what you want?! For me to accept that I can’t grow stronger like this?”

“YE FUCKIN’ TWIT!! How DARE ye insult me wit that shitwashed tongue! ” The ram bellowed, slamming the pegasus back into the ground. Both Cerise and Beatrix started to rise, having had enough violence, but Lady Ewe pulled them back down with a shake of her head.

“Yer fortunate tae have me as yer opponent,” Dion spat, releasing his hold from Midnight’s neck. “If Ah was anybody else, Ah would have impaled ye wit yer own spear an' be done wit ye! A true warrior ne'er admits defeat 'til he draws his last breath!”

“But...gaagh! I can’t beat you! I-I can hardly land a blow, let alone fight! W-why should I?”

“Ye’re not fightin' fur yerself, you jobbyheaded bugger! You fight fur them!” He pointed to the three women who sat there uneasily. “You are their shield. You stand in th' way ov anyone who threatens their livelihood. Those who fight fur themselves are destined tae fall. But those who rise up despite themselves get tae go home tae their loved ones, knowing they're safe. That is why ye must fight!”

Midnight wheezed as Dion’s weight lifted off his chest, his words circling around his head. Weakly, he lifted his head as the ram began walking away, going for what was known as ‘the low stretch,’ an old tactic to get his sparring partner to engage him.

“Ye think Zeloph will shaw ye mercy? Or any stallion that wants yer claim tae th' throne? How are ye tae protect yer guidwife when ye lie thair, helpless tae dae anythin' but watch them strip her down an' fuck her repeatedly 'til-”

“N-noo…. NOOO!” Midnight growled, staggering to his feet, glaring at the ram for providing such a heinous vision. Fist balled tightly, teeth clenched as hyper strength returned through his body. “No one… NO ONE TOUCHES MY WIFE!!!”

He screamed in outrage, charging at Dion with a speed and fierceness that made everyone gasp. The clash knocked the claymore from the ram’s grip, shaking him upon impact as Midnight unleashed a flurry of punches. Cerise nearly teared up at his loud decree, the display of primal, dominant fierceness causing her body to grow hotter.

Finally, Midnight had the upper hand!

But this fury was not completely blind. Each blow aimed precisely where it needed to be, Dion feeling his ribs crack before he caught each fist in his palms, the two at a standstill, muscles straining to push against the crushing weight. The two warriors glared hard at each other, nostrils flared before reeling their heads back to bash their skulls together, the sound loud enough to echo.

Both males fell to their knees, panting heavily, sweating profusely. A searing headache coursed through Midnight, yet he kept his forehead pressed against Dion’s. The ram let out a wry chuckle, raising his tired arm behind Midnight to pat his neck, red eyes staring proudly into green.

“Thair it is, lad,” he huffed. “That’s th' determination A'm wantin' tae see! What ye lack in experience, ye mak' up fur in raw talent. Ye've got what it takes tae tame th' beast wit'in ye, Midnight. Sabaid mhath!”

Midnight sighed, hissing as both men struggled back to their feet and carried each other by their shoulders. “T-thank you for helping…but man, why does your head hit so hard?”

“A’m a ram,” he chuckled. “A’ve got two layers o' skull keepin' mah brain fae splatterin’. Any mair force from me an' A’d murdurr ye.”

Midnight and Dion exchanged tired laughs before the ladies lifted off their seats to give them a place to rest. Immediately, Cerise comforted her husband, taking a wet rag from Beatrix to wash over his bruises and wounds. Lady Ewe did the same for her brother with a few ointments.

“Damn it, Midnight, you should have been more careful!” Cerise whimpered. “I don’t wanna see you get hurt like that again.”

“I-I know, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “My desire to get stronger blinded me from what’s really important. But the next time I fight.… I know who I’m fighting for.”

His words touched the charcoal mare’s heart, making it flutter as Cerise pulled her blue dummy husband for a big kiss, petting his messy mane.

“Yaaaaoowwh!!”

The couple paused to look to Dion, who clutched at his side while Oona applied some healing magic, a soft green glow emanating over her hands. “Ah think ye might have popped somethin’, laddie!”

“That’s what ye get fur playin' roughly wit yer friends,” his sister scoffed, lacking any pity for her brother’s foolhardiness.

“Maybe just a wee bit,” Dion admitted with a stiff snicker. “But th' laddie needed tae learn. An' speaking ov learnin’...” His attention drew to the witch. “That’s enough downtime fur ye, lassie. Get that great arse in gear!”

“A-ahh, y-yes, sir!” Beatrix meeped, putting away her cup onto another side of the rock before standing in attention. She flourished her cape and whipped out her own blade, a stylized rapier she had produced through alchemy with a bit of help from her half-sister, Flurry Heart. She found it easier to manifest Erebus over its shape, making it a little more manageable to wield.

“Ye call that paukit needle a weapon?” Dion teased. “Looks mair like a prop!”

“Hey, we worked hard on this,” Beatrix harrumphed, hand holding her wide hip. “It’s not as heavy, and it gives me style points~!”

“Aye, perfect fur such a theatrical shaw mare,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah suppose finesse does suit ye, but keep in mind what Ah said about usin' both hands.”

“I will…though are you sure you wanna keep going? It looks like Middy roughed you up quite a bit…”

“Pft. Ah can be a reckless bastard, but A’m nae a baw juggler. Ah know when Ah should stop. Sae don’t worry, yer match isn’t wit me. Ready tae take th' reins, sister?”

“Certainly,” Oona nodded, finishing her own cup before taking to Beatrix’s opposing side. The two walked further from the stone as their friends watched, spacing out some distance between them as the winds picked up again.

“Ah trust ye haven’t slacked off?” The dream faun asked.

“Of course not!” Beatrix insisted with a smile. “Though granted, I've mostly been focused on finding Abadonna, so I can’t say I’ve made that much progress.” She'd lost count of how many realms she’d traversed in pursuit of her child. Yet despite what she'd learned on her journeys, it remained another dead end.

“Well, it's fortunate we're on this journey then. Fur like mah brother, Ah can’t be gentle wit ye. Not 'til ye prove yerself capable of handlin' Erebus’ unlimited might.”

“Aye,” Dion nodded. “Hold nothin’ back, Beatrix. Use yer Onoma when ye can!”

“I... Okay.” She nodded, taking in slow breaths to relax her mind. Beatrix didn't want to admit it, but she feared its tremendous power. The idea that it could whirl out of control and bring harm to her friends and loved ones.

While it allowed her to overcome powerful villains like Shadow Scythe, the momentous duel had shaken the universe and threatened to tear it apart as both were pushed to their absolute limits. The reaper was more innovative, smarter, held more potential than her. If not for her friends, Beatrix couldn’t have prevailed.

The witch reminisced over her woes before she and her teacher began their duel. The mage did as requested, holding nothing back as she fired off her strongest elemental spells at the shaman. Bolts of lighting, licks of fire, shards of ice launched while Lady Ewe dodged or cast a barrier to protect herself. In retaliation, she swirled her dreamcatcher staff as circles drew from below, pale blue light shimmering underneath Beatrix.

The witch launched forward, skipping away from each sigil that formed. While she had never seen her mentor use many offensive spells, Beatrix was aware of the consequences should she remain in one of these archaic circles.

Cerise and Midnight watched with interest, the former still scrubbing away at the pegasus’ cuts. “I’ve never seen this kind of magic! It looks so pretty!” Cerise complimented.

“Oh, ye wouldn’t be thinkin' that if ye get caught in that spell,” Dion explained, rubbing at his sore chest. “This is Oona’s only means ov attack. Once th' circle completes around th' target, they’ll be trapped wit'in a bubble 'til it pops, takin' a lot of damage an' knockin’ ye out cold.”

“Whoa…”

“Th' drawback is it takes time an' energy tae cast it over an' over like this. But should it succeed…”

Beatrix was about to unleash a storm of magic until her feet touched the inner ring. As it completed, mist-like magic swirled around her to form a barrier.

Panicking, the witch tried to break free from the seal’s hold until a burst of magic flashed around her. The spherical cage popped as the witch fell to her knees, struggling to fight off the urge to sleep.

“C’mon, Ceann Oga…fight it!” Oona quietly urged as she drew another circle around her lover. Once more, an enchanted bubble formed from the blue mist, sealing Beatrix in what would likely end their bout. Remembering what was on the line, the witch steadily calmed her mind, taking a deep breath to focus on drawing out her archaic magic.

And, in a purple flash, the bubble dispersed as Beatrix emerged with her Onoma awakened. Her costume had dispersed, wisps of cool cosmic dark energy wrapping around her voluptuous figure. Velvet black tendrils wriggled off her limbs, the Demiurge that slept within her Prima Materia binding to her flesh, sensuous to the touch.

Unlike her usual cute appearance, she took on a more mature beauty. Her hair rose and floated about her, filled by the constellations of stars. Her eyes opened, showing cat-like pupils that shimmered. A curtain of the night billowed around her supple shapeliness.

“Yes! That’s it, lassie!” Dion cheered from his seat.

“Way to go, Bea! You’ve got it!” Midnight supported.

“Whoa! She's so…beautiful,” Cerise exclaimed in a soft voice, having not gotten a proper look at her friend’s transformation the first time when they battled Shadow Scythe.

Yet none stood prouder than Beatrix’s opponent, smiling brightly as she bathed in the brilliant illumination of her own Onoma. The area flashed and sizzled under the spells they wove, matched by the cross of their weapons in a refined dance.

“Concentrate,” murmured Lady Ewe, gently directing the witch to her sword.

“I-I will.… I’m... I can do this!” She reassured herself, channeling the Demiurge through her rapier. To her blinking surprise, the blade swarmed in dark matter, momentarily shaping itself into the energy blade that she wielded to take down Shadow Scythe.

But while that one had been more of a clumsily produced cleaver, this one was far more refined, precise, to match her growth.

Her eyes lit up in glee, staring over her weapon as her arcane magic flowed freely over the needle-shaped blade. “I-I did it? Ha… Haha! I did it!! Yes!”

“Well done, Beatrix!” Lady Ewe congratulated. “Now, while ye still have control, strike yer opponent down!” The dream faun shaped a mystical barrier around herself. Beatrix, gripping her rapier tightly with both hands, lunged and struck the shield with all her might, shattering it almost instantly, the force blowing Oona backward. In mere seconds, the cosmic blade dematerialized as she put her stylized rapier away, rushing to help her mentor back to her cloven feet.

“Are you okay, teach?” She asked, patting her over.

“Aye, A’m alricht. Ah know Ah told ye not tae hold back, but woooo!” She giggled, tenderly embracing her pupil. Beatrix melted into Oona’s luscious touch, jubilation washing over her for properly wielding Erebus’s true power, if only for a moment.

“Ahh.… Ah think this calls fur a celebration! How’s about we hae a picnic?”

“Yes, please! I am starved,” Midnight exclaimed, rubbing his bare tummy while Cerise rose up to assist Beatrix in setting up lunch. The witch pulled out a red and white checkered table cloth to drape over the wet grass, summoning a basket from the Prima Materia, full of snacks, goodies, and sweets.

“Ah man,” Cerise cooed, eying the sugary cupcakes, sprinkles layering the creamy frosting. “You really hit the motherload~!”

“Careful, or they go straight to your hips,” Beatrix warned teasingly while she and Oona set up napkins, drinks, and sandwiches. Her statement made Cerise scrunch her snout.

“Oh, please. I always keep in shape, no matter what I eat! See~?” She sensually wiggled her wide hips, causing her friends to snicker while Midnight watched with flustered cheeks.

Soon, everything was laid out perfectly, and the group could enjoy their feast. Dion and Midnight chatted about any war stories from previous battles they fought while Beatrix was nagging her big-horned lover about teaching her that ‘bubble trap’ spell.

This left Cerise in an awkward position, not having much to offer to the group. In fact, part of her was upset that she didn’t participate in any sparring for herself.

She knew everyone needed to be in top shape, but what about her? She was more than a princess and had access to her father’s dark magic to work with!

While she munched slowly in her moody thoughts, she noticed the basket started to shake and tapped Beatrix’s shoulder. “Uhm… Bea?”

The witch pulled out of her conversation to look at the rattling basket before out popped a smaller, cuter version of herself, comical fanfare sounding from somewhere. “Tadaaaaaa~!”

“Mini-Trix?!” Beatrix clamored.

“In the flesh!” The tulpa grinned, stepping out of the basket and striking a dramatic pose. “Didn’t think you’d go on an adventure without me, did ya? No way am I leaving you, crazy kids, without my splendor and much-needed guidance!” She bounced on her heels, her oversized brimmed hat waving about while sporting a childish smirk.

“Actually, we were fine,” Beatrix argued, irritation clear in her throat. “Just go home! We don’t need you here!” Her doppelganger paused, stroking her chin as if to consider the request.

“Mmmm.… Naaaah, I think I’ll stick around! It’s not fair you get to have all the fun to yourself. You’ll need my support if we’re to find Abadonna!”

“No, I do not!” The witch insisted, reaching out to grab her, only for the miniature unicorn to twirl away, cackling.

“Too slow, dummy! You should work on your cardio more~!”

“Why, you little--!”

Like a comedic routine sketch from a cartoon, Beatrix chased her tulpa around the meadow, spouting curses at each other.

“Should we help her out? Mini-Trix seems like a handful,” Midnight suggested, trying to hold back laughter.

“Mini-Trix is a concept given life by Beatrix. Sae technically speaking, she should be acceptin’ her tulpa rather than chasin' it off,” Oona offered, holding her mouth over to hide her giggles.

“As long as she doesn’t get in our way,” Cerise murmured with crossed arms. “The fewer distractions, the better.”
Dion nodded at her sentiment, reminded of when the creature had interrupted the wedding. He gave a whistle before shouting, “Oye, Mini-Trix!”

This caused the tulpa to stop in her tracks to address the warrior ram, Beatrix flying over her head without realizing she had stopped, tumbling into the grass. “Yes, sir?”

He beckoned her over with his hand. “Come, sit wit us. Would ye care fur some cake?”

“Ohhhhh! Why thank you, I love cake!” Mini-Trix beamed, turning to her bigger self with her hands on her cute, curvy hips. “See? Your friend here appreciates me. You should start doing the same~!” Blowing a raspberry at her, she marched through the air to plop her rump into Dion’s lap. Beatrix rolled her eyes, brushing the wet grass off her clothes before taking back her seat.

Oona proceeded to cut the cake, passing it towards Cerise before the tulpa seized it.

“W-wha?! Heeeey!! That was my slice,” Cerise pouted.

“Pft! Get your own, tubby,” taunted Mini-Trix, the two engaged in a staredown, almost enough to cause lightning to flicker between their brows.

“Settle down, children. Thair is mair than enough,” Lady Ewe laughed, giving the charcoal mare her slice as more banter filled the air, everyone settling down.

Luckily, the mood lightened with Mini-Trix around, providing small shows of fireworks and magic while the group ate.

And while it flustered her to no end, Beatrix was somewhat glad her tulpa manifested, helping ease her mind from the long and no doubt dangerous journey still ahead of them.

The sound of snipping pecked at Shadow Scythe’s ears, strands of long midnight hair cascading down the nephilim's back. Having conjured golden scissors, Zeloph severed his lengthy mane while humming a calming tune. The reaper brooded with crossed arms, waiting for her accomplice to finish his ‘transformation.’

It didn’t take long for him to figure out Belladonna’s clothing spell, though his choice of wardrobe was…unique. Instead of a priests’ pale robes, he adorned a mahogany leather jacket, fluffy fur collar with a patched design of six wings hiding a ball of light. Worn jeans tightly clad his lower body, a pair of knee-high biker boots strapped over his feet. He had no undershirt, so his chest and abdominals remained bare for her begrudgement. Once he finished his haircut, the scissors disappeared.

Zeloph brushed his fingers through his wavy locks before shaking his now medium-length hair, his bang curling over the right side of his face. His eyes fell onto Shadow Scythe, a coy smile spreading his lips.

“Well, how do I look?” He asked, holding his arms out.

“...like an 80’s reject,” the reaper snorted, unimpressed. “No, wait…. A poser of an 80’s reject.”

Her witty response only made him chuckle. “So much dishonesty! I can see in your eyes, Shadow Scythe. Though I wonder what… interesting thoughts lay behind them~.”

She waved him off, turning away as her cheeks flustered. He could tell she was infatuated. Not by choice, of course, her mind fought angrily against her body, having so long denied it of earthly pleasures. “Gngh! Of all the things you could have dressed up as, why a wannabe rockstar?!”

“I’m actually very fond of the aesthetics of that era,” the nephilim responded, popping his fur collar. “Reminds me of when my sister and I toured through the various cities. The wild fashion sense, the catchy music, the dancing.… I don’t know why, but something just clicked with us. My only regret was never embracing that due to my ‘purifier’ mindset…” Zeloph let out a long sigh. “In the end, I guess Ana would be right. There was a spark of rebellion in me.”

The mare’s icy blue eyes took in his appearance, unable to help herself. “Hmph, for a sanctimonious asshole…the leather looks good on you,” the reaper muttered.

“Ahah, see? Honesty! Isn’t it a lovely feeling~?” He teased.

“Don't push it. Just lead us the way already. We’re wasting time!”

Zeloph kept his smug grin as the pair made their way towards the base of the mountain. There was no real easy way to climb outside the narrow path. And judging by the strong gales blowing through them, flying might prove hazardous.

Upon placing his hand upon the rocky exterior, Zeloph let out a violent shudder, clutching his shoulders. “Oh no...”

“What is it?” Asked Shadow Scythe.

“Can’t you feel that heavy spiritual pressure? It’s enormous! I’ve never sensed so much dark magic in one place. That couldn’t possibly be Belladonna.... Could it?” Zeloph guided the unicorn’s hand, and a surge of ominous energy coursed through her arm, making her pull away instantly.

“I-impossible! There’s no way she’s gotten this strong in only a few months,” the reaper insisted, glaring into the murky clouds that shrouded the mountain’s peak.

“Nonetheless, whoever is up there is immensely powerful. It would be unwise to continue like this,” Zeloph shook his head. “I think now’s as good a time as any to awaken your Onoma.”

The unicorn nodded, understanding that she would still be outmatched if she fought Beatrix as she was. They walked away from the looming monolith and stood across from each other in the open field.

“Before we start, are there any questions you’d like to ask?” Zeloph offered. If his comrade would accept herself fully, he needed to ensure there were no misunderstandings or doubts.

Summoning her wicked sickle, Shadow Scythe considered his question, with one concern coming to mind. “So…what’s the deal with Doppia? Why wasn’t she sent with us? I mean, not that she’s much help, to begin with, but surely she’s more than the Burning King’s personal bitch…”

The both of them shuddered at the horrible implications. “Let’s…not imagine the details, shall we? Though I assure you, she’s far better suited for infiltration than combat. In fact, she’s the weakest among the Vice Lords.”

“Pfah! Figures…”

“That being said, I would advise underestimating Doppia,” the fallen one warned, looking down to the ground. “I’ve seen what she is capable of. The illusions she weaves, the giddiness she feels while tormenting her victims…it’s absolutely sickening. Make no mistake, Shadow Scythe. That mare is deranged.”

Her eyebrow rose, curious how someone deemed so ‘weak’ could also be such a threat. “And why’s that?”

“Well... Let’s be thankful that she didn’t ask for any of our hairs…” was his only response, clearly uncomfortable with going into details. It wasn’t much of an answer for the reaper, but it would do for now.

In truth, Shadow Scythe was thankful to be away from the smug enchantress and her deplorable master. The Burning King’s presence alone was so overwhelming, she openly trembled.

“So, what are we doing now?” She asked, doing a couple of practice strikes at the air, her steel blade whistling with each swing. “How am I to unleash my full archaic potential?”

“You must be at peace with yourself—mind and body in complete harmony. I believe you’re closest to that during conflict,” Zeloph proposed, extending his aetherial wings from his back, each of the eyes aligning his wingspan opening. “You’ve lived a violent, if not sophisticated, life as a reaper. Death, to you, is as natural as the need for water. And what better way to accept yourself than through battle with a worthy opponent?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d consider you my equal,” Shadow Scythe countered, but the angelic pegasus wagged his finger.

“Oho, but I believe you do. You’ll never admit to it, but you find banter with me far more appealing than the alternative; an eternity of loneliness. And if not with me, perhaps a certain theatrical mage comes in mind...”

Her snout scrunched, hands bawling over the shaft of her sickle.

“But if you still insist that all are beneath you, then come,” the Fallen One challenged, warmth glowing around his hand before his heavenly blade emerged from the light, taking a combatant stance. “Prove me wrong~!”

Shadow Scythe gazed heavily at her opponent before her lips curled, her sickle glinting.

“Heh…. Don’t tempt me,” the reaper cooed, swinging her weapon around before taking her battle stance. “I’ve beheaded many arrogant fools in my time as a death goddess. After I’ve unlocked my Onoma, yours will look nice on top of the pile~!”

Zeloph’s smile deepened. “That’s the spirit. But do keep in mind…” In a flash of light, he was instantly behind her, her pale eyes widening in realization. “You’re not the only one trying to reach the full extent of their power~.”

Grunting, she swung behind her, steel meeting steel as their weapons locked into each other. Shadow Scythe threw herself off before his wings could strike her, immediately launching back to swipe at Zeloph. The cunning angel swiftly dodged and parried each strike amidst sparks, a feat not easily done due to how long his zweihänder was. Yet the winged immortal managed to swing upward, knocking the reaper into the air before taking flight.

Now Shadow Scythe was on the defensive, conjuring a magical barrier to guard herself against each blow Zeloph delivered from every corner. Growling, the shield erupted to knock him aside, floating back down to get some distance between them.

“Gngh! He’s exceptionally quick,” the reaper admitted, having a hard time keeping track of Zeloph’s movements until the fallen one hovered above her, gazing down at her with such haughtiness. If direct assault wasn’t going to work, she’d have to rely on magic.

Her hand and horn flared in a gloomy aura, conjuring advanced spells woven to unleash in a barrage. Yet the nephilim wasn’t deterred, opening his palm as golden rings with wings turned around him to deflect her magic before vanishing instantly. Remnants of the ophanim, a now extinct order of angels, remain in his prowess, using their invulnerability as a temporary shield.

“What!? You’ve gotta be kidding me!” She bellowed, enraged by the futility of her own spells, the number of tiresome years she spent studying to perfect her magic. And none of it phased the Fallen One.

“Has it dawned on you yet?” Zeloph asked, tilting his head. “That all your shortcomings are because of your inability to accept weakness?”

“I…am not weak!!” Shadow Scythe sneered. “I refuse to be weak! I am the Goddess of Death, claimer of souls! All who know me shall fear me and despair. Now get down here so I can tear your head off!!!”

This display of ignorance only brought Zeloph’s hand to his forehead, shaking with a disappointed sigh.

“Do you even listen to yourself!? I mean, how do you expect to become powerful when you’re too afraid to accept that you aren't?”

Shadow Scythe's eyes widened as if a bullet had been shot through her. Her hand gripped her sickle firmly, visibly shaking with fury over the fallen one’s claim. “Afraid..? You think I am afraid!?” She broke into cruel laughter, earning a look of concern from the nephilim. “You’re wrong! WRONG!” Shadow Scythe bellowed, drawing as much magic into her sickle as possible, an eerie glow highlighting steel.

Her eyes leaked tears, her state of mind crumbling. She couldn’t admit that she was, indeed, weak. She despised it. The very thought of it made her want to vomit. “I AM DEATH INCARNATE! I FEAR NOTHING! NOT BEATRIX! NOT THE BURNING KING! AND CERTAINLY! NOT!! YOU!!!”

Shadow Scythe cried as she swung wildly, launching crescent waves of deathly magic at Zeloph. Startled, he channeled his own Onoma into his zweihänder, causing it to ignite in radiant light. A light so bright, the entire plain darkened under its intensity.

The vibrant humming grew louder until it was a high pitch ring. In a single sweep, he unleashed a vast solar wave to diminish her attacks before blasting the ground, the impact sending Shadow Scythe hurtling a few feet from where she stood.

The unicorn struggled to stand back up, catching her breath frantically, eyes wide in alarm. Zeloph slowly descended from the sky, his eyes equally surprised. The field had been obliterated, earth flickering with ambers too bright to be normal fire. Not even the pyrokinesis the Burning King demonstrated matched the intensity of those flames. Shadow’s icy eyes were pinpoints, realization settling in.

“N-no…. T-that was… It can’t be!!”

“Solaromancy,” Zeloph answered, his arcane magic dissolving off his blade, violet vapor hissing off heated steel. Exhaustion leaked down his face, that attack alone draining him of energy, his knees shaking. Yet, he managed to conjure a glimpse of that brilliant glow that matched the massive orb shimmering from the sky.

“But that’s impossible! The only being able to wield the power of the sun was…”

“Celestia.” He nodded, staring into his own palm. “I’ve heard stories about her during my containment. A noble, kind ruler who conjured the sun’s light as magic, bestowing her subjects with its majesty. It’s a power I once coveted but always thought was beyond my capability…”

Zeloph closed his eyes as the brilliant golden wisp of his aura bathed around him, concentrating into a single shining source within his chest. “But through Apollo, I may harness the sun’s beauty and access its sacred power.… Gnh!” Almost instantly, the energy dissipated, fatigue weighing down on the winged immortal.

“Hmm.… It appears I'm not ready to handle this form of ancient magic,” he groaned, shaking off how tired his body was while glaring softly at Shadow Scythe. “And maybe, I was wrong to think you were ready to unlock your own…”

“Damn it.… Damn it!” She muttered between clenched teeth under her breath, slamming her fist into the ground. “How could I have reached my limits?” Surely, if she tried to absorb more souls, she could match the fallen angel in strength.

Yet, any morsels that held real power would prove difficult to contain. And now, knowing what abilities Zeloph could bring forth with his arcane signature, even stolen power wouldn’t be enough to bridge the gap.

“I...” She struggled to say the words, shaking violently. “...I-I yield.”

“Ooh? Has the prideful death goddess finally given up?” Zeloph questioned, lowering his blade to the ground. “If this is some ploy to lower my guard…”

“It’s not! No tricks,” Shadow Scythe insisted, her robes billowed around her when she stood up from the dirt. Her fists balled at her sides, staring down at herself, bristling with frustration, unable to shake the unbearable truth. The reaper was responsible for all her failures. Vainglorious pride had led her to all this. And unless she could somehow break the vicious cycle, she would remain stuck.

“I can’t live like this,” she admitted, more to herself than her comrade. “I can’t keep pretending like I’m better off on my own. Because I’m not! I’m too weak a-and selfish to realize how far I’ve fallen…. I threw away my freedom just to become strong. But it’s only made me sick. I hate this! I hate feeling this! And whether it's because of the empathy forced upon me or not, It doesn’t matter! I can’t deny what I’ve become…”

Quiet tears rained down her face, flashes of Beatrix, Sunny, Cerise and the rest of their friends, all smiling around her. An image of the witch offering her hand to her…. Oh, how badly she wanted to take it. To be loved.

“I…I am afraid,” Shadow Scythe confessed. “I’m afraid for what will happen not only to me but to them. I care about them. I don't want them to die and fall before the Burning King! I may have lost my will, but I won’t lose my soul! And if helping you find the library ensures their safety, then I’ll do it!”

As she looked back to Zeloph, she was startled to find him growing taller. Except… no, he wasn’t moving. Just staring at her with an astonished expression. Her head followed her gaze to realize she was somehow sinking into her own shadow. The smoky aura steamed from her until she completely dissolved into her shade.

“Ehh!? Where did..?” He asked, looking over the small spot of darkness, not seeing his own shade steadily grow larger before it was too late. Instantly, the reaper emerged, her magic forming tendrils to seize Zeloph’s wings and limbs, immobilizing him. He froze upon feeling the curve of her sickle pressing against his throat yet remained seemingly calm. The reaper, her cloak still merged in the shadowy substance, brought her face next to his, panting heavily.

“W-what is this? How did I..?”

“Well, well, not bad,” Zeloph complimented, his many eyes observing Shadow Scythe’s new ability. “The moment you relent and accept your weakness, the shadows gave you safe passage…literally, in this case! Seems you can travel through any contour or dark silhouette and strike from any angle. Incredibly versatile and deadly! I believe this to be the gift of Thanatos.”

“Thanatos,” Shadow Scythe repeated, her expression much calmer and in control once she understood that this was the power she sought. And, admittingly, when she first sank through the sea of endless black, it felt like she was under an ocean, with only Zeloph’s reflection being her source of light. If she were to fully grasp this magic, she could expand her field of reach! A familiar grin appeared on her pale blue snout.

“I see the potential, almost like how I used the manor's power.… This power, ‘Thanatos,’ will serve me well in our mission,” she agreed, already thinking up ways to better exploit her archaic energy. And, more importantly, to best approach Beatrix, should they inevitably meet.

“Well done, Shadow Scythe! I will admit, I had my doubts. But you’ve proven yourself worthy and have silenced me rather masterfully. Now then, let us make haste an-”

In an attempt to pull himself free from the unicorn’s hold, Zeloph felt the tendrils tighten, Shadow’s sickle pressing harder into his throat, threatening to slit his jugulars open. He looked to the cunning reaper with a look of deep annoyance.

“... oh, you are kidding me! Really?!”

“As if I’d let you go when I have you right where I want you,” she whispered into his feathery ear, so low and soft that it sent shivers down his spine. “I should slaughter you right now after everything you’ve done.”

Zeloph gave a long sigh. “Y’know, I was beginning to enjoy how great it was not being backstabbed after helping someone...”

“That’s your own damn fault,” Shadow Scythe reminded, her hand tugging at his head high enough to further expose his neck. “You may have new light, but your soul still burns for vengeance. You really think your precious daughter will appreciate the news of how you killed her mother? How stupid are you?”

“And you’re going to be the one who protects her from me?” He chuckled dryly. “Isn’t that deliciously ironic~?”

“It would be easy and quick,” Shadow Scythe purred, her vessel getting off to the power of toying with the Fallen One’s life. After so long of being frustrated and at the mercy of someone else, it felt so good to be back in control. “Consider your merciful end, my personal thank you for awakening my true power.”

“And after you’ve ‘repaid’ me, then what?” Zeloph asked with a harsh breath, cold steel at his throat. “You’ll take on Beatrix and the Burning King all by yourself?”

“If I have to…”

“Oh, c’mon, Shadow Scythe. I know you’re smarter than this! You’ve seen what awaits you in Pathos. And don’t think your immortality will spare you from the Burning King’s wrath. Once he has liberated, he will find you!”

His warning caused a deep shudder through her body, causing her physical form to manifest more, her shadowy hold loosening a bit. Shadow Scythe knew she didn’t want to live a life where fleeing was her only option until that grotesque demon eventually caught her. As much as she refused to trust Zeloph, he was right. And killing him now would prove a grievous mistake.

“Do you still intend to kill Beatrix once we face her?” She asked. And for a long while of quiet consideration, Zeloph shook his head.

“I don’t…actually want to kill her,” he confessed. “I know Abby would never forgive me if I did. All I wanted was to see Belladonna burn, but that ill will has washed away after coming here. It’s…almost like I’ve forgotten why I wanted her dead. Perhaps she does still elude me…but make no mistake; her getting to Abadonna before I do could cause a cosmic calamity, on a scale which the multiverse has never seen! And…I can’t face her alone.”

As best as he could, the fallen angel turned his head towards Shadow Scythe, an almost pleading look in his magenta eyes.

“Please…. I need your help.”

The pale unicorn considered his plea before hesitantly releasing her grip, withdrawing her sickle from his neck. “Alright, I’ll allow you to live a little longer,” Shadow Scythe accepted as only she could. “You’ve, at least, proven to be a more reliable ally than most. Perhaps you’re still of use to me, after all.”

Rubbing his throat, the winged immortal chuckled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way… friend~.”

She snorted at his notion with dejection, but a small curl to her lip showed otherwise. The pale unicorn slipped between the shadows of nearby trees and rocks to further test her limits with this strange, new energy.

And once she was satisfied with Thanatos’ familiarity, she and Zeloph turned towards the ominous mountain before them. There would be more time to train their Onoma, but they must continue their journey, should Beatrix already have reached the summit.

The question was, from the raw power that radiated about the atmosphere, what awaited them above the dark clouds?