A/N: This came faster than I thought. Next chapter should be up soon enough, taking enough time for school and what-not. Gonna start off with.... Well, I don't wanna ruin it for you, the loyal readers, so I'll keep my mouth shut for right now. Have fun everyone.
He walked down a dark, cold stone hallway, stumbling every other step as blood dripped from his wounds and onto the floor. He stumbled and fell to the floor, breaking his fall with the only hand he could still use. He began coughing, more and more blood spattering from his mouth to the stone floor, his miniature reflection staring back at him. Sighing heavily, he pushed himself up again, using the stones of the wall to keep his balance.
“Alright…. Alright… I think.. I think I lost them…” he said, trying to catch his breath. He used this moment of safety to think back on just how he’d found himself there…
ABOUT TWENTY YEARS EARLIER
It was a dark night in Ponyville when Applejack walked down the road, an unconscious stallion thrown across her back. Her face was streaked with tears, and her strength was just beginning to fail her.
“C’mon now… Just…. Just a bit further.” She whispered to nopony in particular as she trudged along, not sure where she was going or what to do when she got there. She looked from side to side for a place to stop, a place where she could put the stallion down and go to sleep. She sighed, looking down in defeat as her knees finally gave out beneath her, the gravel coating the ground rushing up to meet her. She tried to get back to her hooves, but she couldn’t get a grip on the rocks, and the weight on her back wasn’t helping at all. She began crying once more; cursing herself for not being able to carry her burden, and cursing the stallion for making such a foolish decision, but in the end it all meant nothing.
Her love was dying, far as she knew, and there was nothing she could do to help him. She lacked the strength of body and will to do anything but lay there in the street and cry.
“Applejack? Applejack, is that you?” came a familiar voice, and the farmer turned to see her friend Twilight through the loosened strands of her hair. “Applejack, what… Who… Why…” the lavender librarian seemed at a loss for words at the sight before her, but her country counterpart did not have enough patience for her to solve the conundrum.
“No… No time ta’ explain, Twi’… Just… Just lend me a hoof will ya’?” she asked, her lungs burning as she struggled for breath. She was growing dizzy, though if it was from lack of oxygen or anxiety, she did not know. The last thing she thought before the sweet void of sleep embraced her was one of worry, both for her health and for that of her stallion.
The stallion, though unconscious, was as healthy as one in his condition could be. His heart beat as it should, his lungs took in and pushed out air at regular intervals, and to any doctor he would seem perfectly healthy.
But no doctor could define what ailed him if they tried.
For deep down, in the corners of his heart and soul, there had always been a darkness. A darkness that, instead of driving him to steal candy as a child, drove him to free slaves. A darkness that, over the years of his life, had accumulated. For every deed of goodness he performed, the dark within him had grown, eventually driving him to release it in a burst of anger and rage that ended in the death of his father.
But, with the death of his father, only more darkness was born into him, the flames of anger and guilt beginning to lick at his very soul as he fled from his past and his future. And, as his life progressed, his new life, the darkness had been welcomed. It had been part of life, a balance to the light he held.
But the toll it took upon his body more than evened out the equation. By the age of twenty, he looked to be at least in his thirty’s, and so on. His mind changed with his body, growing as old as he appeared, yet never straying from the youthful joy and humor he had before his fate changed forever.
And then, at the age of twenty-five, he lay at a crossroads. His body, though living was empty, his soul long since departed to an astral plane beyond even his comprehension. Though he did not know it, his soul was being fought over, and his decisions from then on would have repercussions throughout reality.
“Ugh, that’s the last time I try to cleanse an evil forest.” The man known as Wolves Fang muttered, awaking to find himself in a far cry from the forest he’d left. He stood in a field of wheat and wildflowers, a soft breeze blowing and causing both to sway. He walked, his hands outstretched to catch the wheat as a he passed, the crickets and other insects flying away as he passed in silence. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life, the birds flew, singing their serenades to him as the passed in glory, the sun shining bright and the sky blue as the deepest sea, clear and amazing without a cloud in the sky.
He felt his heart thumping in his chest as he saw this beautiful sight, and let out a laugh of wonder as he broke into a sprint through the field.
“Yeah!” he yelled out, enjoying the feeling of freedom and health rising within him as he whooped and hollered through the rolling plains of grains. He felt at peace. He felt alive. He felt happy.
And then, in an instant, it was all gone, replaced with burning flames and screams of pain. He looked around to see people, animals and homes, all burning, blazing with light as they called his name. His true name. Tears streaked down his face, staining his skin, and he turned to the only solution he could see.
He ran. He ran as fast and far as he could, through the fields once more. The birds flew and sang again, but in pain and sorrow as their homes burned around them and the flames scorched their feathers. The tears continued to flow, and his feet never stopped pushing him forward, further and further as the flames licked at his heels, urging him ever onward. He heard voices, faint at first but growing louder over the roar of the flames.
His cloak, which had served him well throughout the years, caught fire first, the flames spreading quickly as he fell to the ground, burning flowers rising to meet him as one last thought raced through his mind.
Why?
The cost of life and liberty
A/N: Alrighty guys, here's chapter two. In case you guys hadn't noticed yet, I'm going for a more feely, flashbacky tone on this one. Let me know what you guys think about that, cause I love to hear your guys' opinions on what I'm doin. On a side note, I was listening to a lot of this guy when I wrote this, just so you know. Later.
Yes, that’s when it started. The man thought, wandering through the corridors of his prison. He could feel an infection growing in his shoulder, and knew he had to escape soon. But, his mind wandered again to the past. Back in that forest… Called Everfree… This all began. He sighed, the action causing more blood to force its way out of his throat. It had been so long ago. So very long ago….
_________________________________________________________________________________
“So you dragged me out of the forest?”
“Yep.”
“And I was already… Like this?”
“Well it’s not like ah got any magic, ya silly man.”
They’d been going back and forth since they’d awakened. Fang, though seeming a bit more off than usual, had quickly adjusted to his new form. He only had one question for his and Applejack’s gracious host.
“Why?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Twilight replied, not sure of the origin of his question.
“Well, for starters, why am I still alive?” he asked, being met with nothing but shrugs all around. Sighing, he moved on to his next question. “And better yet, why am I a pony now?”
“Now that, I think I can explain.” Twilight piped up, eager to prove what she knew. “While you were in the forest, what was on your mind?” she asked. The greyish-brown stallion before her blushed ever so slightly as he answered.
“I was thinking of Applejack. How I’d lied to her, and such.” He stated calmly. There was an uncomfortable shuffling of hooves from beside him as Applejack shifted slightly.
“Well, that might explain it.” Twilight announced, ignoring her friends discomfort for the time being. “You were casting a spell and thinking of a pony, thus when the spell was interrupted the thought, the raw magical energy and the darkness you’d already collected from the forest accumulated, and gave you a new form based on your desires.” She said. While she and her farming friend looked ecstatic, Fang looked worried, confused.
“So… the darkness I’d gathered went inside me… Right?” he asked, his voice wavering the slightest bit as he tried to reign in his emotions.
“Well, yeah. It didn’t really have anywhere else to go.” Twilight explained sheepishly. She knew how druidism worked in his world, what it cost, the toll it took, and all such information. By her logic, however, it was a miracle he was even alive, let alone transformed into one of their kind, so she’d had some amount of hope.
But he knew better.
“How long do I have?” were the only words that came out of his mouth. Applejack simply stood flabbergasted at the question, not understanding the workings of druidic magic. Twilight sighed slightly, doing calculations in her head for a moment before reaching a verdict.
“Well, and keep in mind this is an educated guess, but by my calculations, you should live about as long as the rest of us, which is to around sixty-eight years old. But…” she trailed off, not sure exactly what to say.
“But what?” this time it was Applejack inquiring about his future.
“Well… The dark magical energies may have affected your brain, so you may experience… Occasional… Hallucinations, and maybe some other symptoms of various mental disorders… And they might get worse over time.” The room went silent as the grave as the words sank in, and each pony’s thoughts went in different directions.
Applejack’s went towards Fang, wondering just how these hallucinations would affect him in the long run, as well as her family, and if her efforts to save him had all been in vain.
Twilight’s thoughts went back to her calculations, hoping to find some way to reverse the effects, a way to spare her friends the pain of mental instability.
Fang’s thoughts went to how he would tell fantasy from reality, and what the repercussions would be if he couldn’t.
He refused to ever be clapped in irons again.
“How… How bad will these hallucinations be?” the silence was broken as the druid once more queried about his impending madness. Twilight sighed again, unable to give an easy answer.
“I’m not sure, this is the first time I’ve dealt with this and, like I said before, this is all an educated guess. You could be fine, or you could be out in the streets ranting about the apocalypse tomorrow morning.” She replied. “I wish I had better news, or even a definite answer, but I don’t. I’m sorry.” The room went quiet again for a moment, all present hoping beyond hope that everything would turn out for the best.
They stayed there for most of the day, talking, drinking tea, anything to distract themselves from their predicament. But Fang stayed quiet, his eyes distant as he simply went through the motions. Soon, the day was winding to an end, and not a word more had been heard from him as Applejack and him left the library. On the walk back to the farm, she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fang, what’s on yer mind? Ya haven’t said a word since Twi’ told us the news.” She exclaimed, worried about the state of her love’s mind.
“I know, I just… I just don’t know how to handle all this.” He replied with a sigh, a frown crossing his lips as Celestia’s sun sank low on the horizon. In truth, he had many ideas on how to handle his predicament, but none that he dared give voice to. He adjusted his clothes as best he could, watching the feather that was gingerly attached to his ear sway in the wind that carried the intertwined chain and string, and listened as it clinked together in tune with nearby wind chimes. The world itself seemed to have become so dark and melancholy to his eyes, filled with sadness and pain.
Applejack simply watched as the ageing stallion slowed slightly, looking down in dejection.
“I don’t understand.” He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. “Mother Gaia gave us all the gift of life, the means to survive, yet man turned his back on her… But here I stand, a man who did naught but protect her dwindling domain, release it from darkness, and yet I am the one who must die, while the unworthy live.” His tone was graveled now, his anger flaring, feeling as if his sacrifices had been in vain, that the earth cared not for her children who stayed loyal, but catered to her betrayers like a favored son. “It is I who must live the rest of his days in pain and insanity.” He sighed once more, tears forming in the pin of his eye as they fell to the dirt below.
“C’mon now, like Twi’ said, ya might be fine, and ya should live to a ripe old age no matter what.” She said, placing a comforting hoof on his shoulder with a shy smile. They stopped as she did so, Fang returning the smile, though his was more halfhearted than hers.
“Thank you, Applejack, but I…” he stopped for a moment, trying to think of something to say. “I… Never mind.” He said, shaking away the thoughts he’d had in that split second as he resumed their walk.
“Aw, come on, ya know ya can tell me anythin’ Fang, right?” she asked as she caught up to his momentary burst of speed.
“No, actually, if I remember right my inability to tell you everything is what got me into this predicament in the first place.” He replied with a mischievous grin.
“That so?” she asked, playfully shoving the druid away and into a bush. “Huh, funny how that works out, ain’t it?” she asked, watching as Fang did his best to rise from the bush with his newest appendages. “Aw c’mon, ya walked here from tha farm in the shape of a dang dog sugercube, ah think ya can walk back as a pony. After all, we’re both four legged ain’t we?” she asked as he finally found his footing.
“Yes, well, there are many differences between the two of you I could point out, but the answer is yes, I can walk there, but no, I cannot stand back up very easily after falling.” He exclaimed, using his telekinesis to shove Applejack in a similar, though slightly more powerful, fashion.
They carried on like that long into the night, until they arrived at the farm of the Apple family, and turned in for the night.
_______________________________________________________________________________
He smiled slightly, remembering the day. It had started off so terrible, but ended so great that he couldn’t think back on it poorly. He chuckled sadly as he stumbled down the stone corridors, nearly tripping over something’s remains. He didn’t bother to look as he continued on his way, not wanting to see the reactions, the pain and suffering he’d caused with his choices.
“Hold on, I think he went this way!” he heard the voice and accelerated into a shuffle that would have put the undead to shame, trying his best to escape the bearer of the voice without further injury to himself.
“Just… Just a little farther..”
