Tether Of The Soul

Metallic clangs could be heard throughout the throne room. Sorthath’s anger was getting to him because Berath was blocking every strike. The strikes were animalistic as Sorthath did not know how to control his blade, Zerathra. Zerathra was Zestateth’s sisterblade. She was the embodiment of life while Zestateth, well he was the embodiment of death. You would think how strange it was to hear that Zerathra, a blade made of life, was being wielded by Sorthath, the now self-proclaimed King of Tartarous. Well, it is not so strange after all.

I wish to impart to you a little story of how the two swords of the cosmos came to Sorthath and Berath.

This all began from their birth into Queen Froyen’s bloodline. When Sorthath was born, Queen Froyen called upon Gilldahara to witness his birth and bless him. Gilldahara descended from the heavens to Froyen’s side. He watched as Sorthath was born, he gave the foal the gift of grace. He foresaw Sorthath growing to be a kind and just king that conjoined the mortal realm with heaven. He was quite joyous of the stallion that Sorthath was to be in his destiny. ‘Queen Froyen, I bestow upon your coalt Sorthath, the blade of life her self Zerathra! I find it fitting that my mother, Panthiazma. Has chosen Sorthath as the champion of Life!’ Froyen was so pleased upon hearing that her firstborn was to be the rightful heir to her throne. So she did what any mother would do, she would nurture her champion of life to be the kindest king that ever graced the world. She would teach him all about the rules of being a kind and gracious pony, not to himself, but to his people and his family, and most of all to his creator, Gilldahara!

Squelch! ‘How dare you impale me!’ A voice said as blood flowed from the embedded sword. It was stuck, not anywhere vital but it was still inside their body, just below their shoulder. ‘No, how dare you! How dare a god bestow a weapon so fabulous, so magisterial, to a slimy worm like you!? Yes, you were born to greatness, born to be the kindest King of all the realms… Here I am, born to be your shadow, your copy, your filth! Do you know what that pretender to the throne of Heaven gave me?’ The bleeding pony shook his head slowly ‘HE GAVE ME THE GIFT OF DISEASE! Gilldahara foresaw me becoming the visage that I gaze upon right this very second. He forsook and cast me to the depths of Hell. As he gave me Zestateth, I was forever forbidden from mother’s love, from having a brother to call upon in my time of need… From having a loving family to call my own, and from having a loyal friend that I could depend on. I took all of this gift and walked upon the earth seen as scum…’

Berath is quite right about his birth. When Berath was born, his mother was quite confused about how he was born. You see, Berath was not supposed to be a foal to take care of. Her doctors told her that she was incapable of having another foal after Sorthath. In fact, she thought Berath was to be her omen of doom. So she called upon Gilldahara for guidance, and for solace.
Once Gilldahara came to Froyens side once more he was shocked to see a small bundle of faded lavender fur next to the queen. ‘Froyen, you have been gifted with another heir’ Froyen looked up at him with tears in her eyes ‘My Lord, I fear that this thing is a bad omen… Every time I look at it, I am filled with disgust and regret.’ The king of heaven sat next to her bed ‘He is no omen, Froyen! He is the final piece of this world's equilibrium.’ Gilldahara stood over Berath as he lay sleeping. It looked as if the foal's fate was in the palm of the king’s hand ‘Berath! You are the opposing force to your brother Sorthath. I shall take it upon myself to bestow upon you, the blade called, Zestateth! You will be the darkness from his morrow’s rising sunlight. You are his silt, the afterthought of everything clean and pure. You will be the plague itself. Your soul is destined to rule over Tartarous!’

Schunk! Berath felt Zerathra glide deep into his stomach. His rage began to fill his eyes as he stared dead into Sorthath’s. ‘You must be joking, I have lived true to my title and heir to mother’s bloodline. I am pure, just, graceful, and humble.’ Said the brother covered in obsidian dust. Berath grabbed Sorthath’s hoof holding the now-embedded sword with his free hoof and forced Sorthath against his will to dig deeper with the blade ‘Do you honestly think I am jesting?’ Sorthath nodded, his nodding stopped once Berath let his teeth bear and form a smile
‘My dear, dear brother! Everything you claim has been from the sweat of my brow. All of your accomplishments are naught, for I was the one scribing in stone your feats by the blood of those that wished you harm… You claim to be pure, yet you would have me adulterate the walls of the castle, with the wails of those you had me mutilated. They were innocent subjects you deemed, unworthy of your so-called grace… The things I have done, will not grant me restful sleep for they plague my dreams, nor will they ever leave my mind and grant me peace because my soul is nothing more than, silt. To corrode and fester upon this earth.’ A sigh escaped Berath’s pent-up anger ‘You were right on one thing. I do not have a brother. After all, how can you call scum family?’

Screams emanated from Sorthath as Berath made sure to grip tightly on Zestateth with his magic. He ever so slowly twisted the blade to be horizontal, and forced it to cut across Sorthaths neck. Splitting his neck and windpipe open. Sorthath was gasping for air and scared he was going to die, Berath leaned in close to his ear ‘You, will, stay here in this place of agony you claimed as your kingdom. To the end of time. Goodbye Sorthath, you will be forgotten!’
Sorthaths vision began to fade as his soul faded into the open air and it made his body grow limp. It was enough to allow Berath to push his hooves off Zerathra. Berath managed to painfully pull the blade out of his stomach, and gaze at her splendor. ‘I Have beaten your champion. I claim you as mine.’ he wheezed out. Zerathra emanates a blue glow, letting Berath know that he can now wield her.

Without hesitation, he placed Zerathra against Zestateth. The blades melded together and started to expand their size ‘With the great sword of the cosmos, I shall have the power to kill a god. Gilldahara, I will watch the life drain from your eyes. This I swear.’
Berath opened a portal to the pearly gates with the newly combined sword. He stepped through its thresh hold.