A Veiled Pilgrimage

A brown coat earth pony stallion stood panting. Numerous scars marked his body, a sign of a well travelled and arduous life, or more simply, perilous. A black eye-patch looped around his head and covered his right eye. His black mane was nothing special, but it drifted in the light breeze of the current reverie. His ruby eyes held a firmness to them, backed by experience and conviction.

All over his body, various items and equipment glimmered with power you'd never suspect.

A figure stood opposite to him, who held the advantage despite all of his preparation and collection of advantages. What use was amplification, no matter how strong, against the magic of a supreme one? Especially when he was but just a lowly earth pony.

This didn't matter.

Like he had done it a hundred times before, he softly turned his head to look around in all directions, as though he thought someone conspiratorially could be watching this death match.

"I will put you out of your misery. That I can promise you."

The stallion, whose intensity had once been so great, allowed himself to consider the shift calmly.

Then, with the tiniest drop only on the right side of his lip, he frowned briefly.

His next words were only heard by the figure opposite to him.

"E—"