Darkest Equestria

The end to the north road came up ahead, its tentative light a sight for sore eyes. Nothing had attacked them the rest of the journey down the old road. Pinkie's nerves and muscles were taught with anticipation, but nothing showed its ugly face. No bandits, or whatever else called these twisting paths home.

They all breached the other side of the forest, and now stood in the light. The road sprawled onward, leaving the darkened place behind and transforming into a grassy meadow. In the distance, Pinkie could see Canterlot stuck to the side of a distant mountain like a torch sconce.

If only the railways weren't completely grown over by the forest, this journey would have been a lot easier. Unfortunately, they had been completely ripped up by the roots.

"We made it." Spearhead said. "That wasn't so bad."

"Please, Trixie saw you glancing at shadows the entire way. She would say you were scared out of your mind."

"You weren't much better." Spearhead said.

Baldwin finished marking the map then showed it to Pinkie. She looked at it, noticing a winding path and a set of directions. It wasn't so much as a line through the forest as it was a set of landmarks and directions through it. She supposed any bit would help navigate the Everfree to a supply cart or traveler.

"Good job!" Pinkie patted him on the back then immediately withdrew her hoof. He felt oddly... squishy? It wasn't quite squishy, but she couldn't think of another way to describe it.

Baldwin nodded, and then looked towards Canterlot. He stayed there while Trixie and Spearhead argued in the background.

"What are you looking at?" Pinkie followed his gaze, seeing only the dark skies and winding old path.

"Beauty can be found even here, however fleeting." Baldwin said. "In ages past, I would come here to read and write."

"Really? Did you publish anything?" Pinkie asked.

"No." Baldwin said.

"Why not?"

"A king does not publish his heart to the world, lest he wishes it vulnerable." Baldwin said.

Pinkie looked at him over again. King. That word reminded her of something. It was jogging her memory, but she still couldn't place it. "Are you a king?"

"No. Not any longer." Baldwin said.

Then it hit her. She had heard tales of a king in a far-off land, Saddle Arabia. All she knew was that he left after contracting a sickness.

"Wait, you're Baldwin. King of Saddle Arabia!" Pinkie slammed a hoof on the ground in recognition. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Show not the heart to a stranger." Baldwin's gaze wandered to Trixie. "And not status to a show mare."

Pinkie looked over at Trixie, who was still arguing with Spearhead. "What is wrong with her?"

"She used to travel the sands of Saddle Arabia. She knew of me and would have used my name for leverage during our travels." Baldwin said. "I kept my identity a secret."

"And now you're telling me?" Pinkie scratched the back of her head with a hoof. "Why?"

"Why indeed." Baldwin hummed. "A wolf does not wish to hunt alone forever."

Pinkie grinned and leaned in close. She tried to ignore the subtle smell of sweet sickness emanating from him. "Are you saying you want to be friends?"

"I would not be opposed to it. As a jester, you would have been welcome in my court." Baldwin said.

"Say no more." Pinkie said. "You and I are now officially friends."

Baldwin huffed and turned back towards the distant Canterlot. For a moment, Pinkie watched it with him, enjoying the feeling of having a new friend. Maybe they weren't exactly close friends, but the start of a friendship was still something to celebrate. It was a rarity in these times.

Then somepony had to ruin it.

"Trixie is sitting down and eating, and she will not be convinced otherwise!" Trixie laid down with a huff and opened her saddlebags.

"You- I can't believe you!" Spearhead snarled. "We should just head back and get to town as fast as possible."

"Trixie cannot hear you." She withdrew a bundle of hay and started chewing.

The look on Spearhead's face would have wilted a flower. His eyes lit up with fury, and he went to open his mouth.

"Why don't we all just have a quick bite and then head back to town?" Pinkie spoke up before he could. "I'm starving!"

Spearhead fumed. He sat down on the ground with an aggressive thump, ripped open his saddlebag, and started chewing on some hay. "Fine but let's make it quick."

The group ate what they could in a short time. Pinkie grinded down some particularly dry hay, it was tasteless and stuck to the sides of her mouth. It wasn't the best meal, but it was better than nothing. Food in her belly warmed her a little, and she felt strength return to her limbs. Her hooves were aching, as they had been walking nearly an entire day.

Pinkie wanted to ask Trixie how her magic worked again but felt like that would be pushing it. Before she knew it, they had all finished their meals.

"Back through the woods then?" Pinkie asked as she stood up.

"Let's get this over with." Spearhead growled.

"Trixie does not wish to be near you any longer than she has to." She said, her cloak billowing in a warm wind. "She is beyond such trifling conversation."

"Then it seems we are in agreement." Spearhead said.

Baldwin was the first to take the lead again, and Pinkie gave him a smile as he went on ahead. She would lead the way through the forest if she had to, but the thick armor Baldwin had made her feel more secure being behind him.

They marched back into the forest, being cloaked in shadow once more. The task was done, they needed only to return. The sounds of the forest enveloped them, drowning out most others.

"How much oil do we have left?" Pinkie asked.

"Enough." Spearhead tightened his jaw around the lantern he was carrying.

That was the end of that conversation.

Pinkie sighed, letting her gaze wander to the sides of the path. She wished that every pony wasn't so hostile to each other. It would be easier if they were more like the serene and stoic Baldwin, who was also apparently a king. The thought of being friends with a king, even if he was a former one, was enough to fill her with proud giddiness. It seems that even after all these years her friend making skills were top notch.

Something moved beyond the lantern's light. She could scarcely observe it, a snap of a twig out of place, a swirling shadow, but Pinkie swore that she saw something. She froze, quieting her breath and perking her ears. Her muscles tensed.

Trixie bumped into her. "Why have you stopped in Trixie's path?"

"Stop holding us up." Spearhead said.

"There is something in the woods." Pinkie whispered. She flipped her hoof-blades from the side of her legs to the front.

Baldwin stopped at those words and reached behind him. From his back, he withdrew his massive half-broken executioner sword. With ease he lifted it, holding its handle in his mouth. It was a weapon that no normal pony would have dreamed of wielding. And he was doing it without earth pony magic.

Spearhead held his spear in his hooves, standing with a weary look in his eyes.

Trixie scurried to the center of the hasty formation, a previously unseen dagger floating next to her. "Trixie does not see such-"

"Quiet!" Spearhead snapped.

The forest keened. They all stood there, listening. And yet, nothing happened. The seconds grew long, and the sound of heavy breathing was the only noticeable change.

"It's nothing." Spearhead lowered his spear. "Should have known not to trust a clown."

"Exercise every caution, lest one not heeded be your last." Baldwin remained at the ready.

"Enough philosophy old stallion. She was wrong, and that is that." Spearhead snarled.

Pinkie's tail twitched. Adrenaline filled her veins in a split second, and she leapt forward.

Something hit the dirt behind her where she had just been standing. She whipped around, only to see a flash of steel flying towards her neck. Pinkie stumbled back; edges of fang-like steel ripping through the cloth around her neck. It just grazed the fur beneath. Her frantic hooves slipped in the mud, sending up a spray of earth as she fell backwards. She hit the ground with a wheeze as air was forced from her lungs.

A stallion was standing above her. His eyes were hidden behind an iron half-mask, forming a familiar half-crown above his head. Just like the wooden effigy. Scraps of black cloth hung off of him, tattered and grimy. Muscles rippled beneath his dark brown coat, thick and unyielding. Scattered scars coated his forelegs, and attached to his front hooves were two hoof blades. They were prong like- each one having two wicked spikes that extended outward.

The stallion wasted no time, bearing down on her with a vicious stab.

Pinkie rolled to the side, crying out as the blade ripped across her back. She kept going, adrenaline fueling every moment.

Shouts erupted as three more figures fell from the trees, blades bearing down on their unsuspecting prey.

Pinkie leapt to her rear hooves, dancing around another swipe. She lashed out with her scythe, cleaving across his face wickedly. Blood poured, and the stallion reared back.

Even with half his face hanging off his skull, the stallion lunged again, stumbling over his own swipe. Half blinded by his own blood; Pinkie was able to swiftly evade the swipe. She flashed her scythe again, ripping off the mask, and another swipe cleaved clean across both his eyes.

Screaming in pain and rage, the stallion blindly swiped in a flurry. Pinkie desperately stumbled away from the onslaught. It was fanatical, unrelenting wrath.

As he raged forward again, a massive blade swung from behind him in a deadly arc. It obliterated his back, sundering bone and flesh with a stomach-churning squelch. The blade pulled free, soaked in viscera. What was left looked like a crushed pinata, spent after a day of games.

"The flower before frost." Baldwin stepped away from his victim and turned towards the next.

Pinkie looked over the battlefield, breathing heavily. These weren't bandits, they were something else.

Spearhead was facing two of them, blades grinding against his armor in a frenzied assault. It protected what it could, but one slash found its way through a joint. It slipped it, stabbing into the flesh beneath. Spearhead hissed in pain and shoved them off. His spear came swinging around, swiping one of the attackers off their feet.

Baldwin joined him, his blade arcing through the air, and slamming into the ground next to the foot of an attacker. Blades scraped across his breastplate as his foe responded with a vengeance.

Trixie levitated her prized skull. She spoke words, unintelligible words that were maddening to the ear. The eyes of the skull glowed red, and thick spectral red tentacles sprouted from the earth like vines. The sight shocked Pinkie, nearly freezing her in her tracks.

They wrapped themselves around an attacker, restraining the slobbering mare. She didn't seem to care, struggling against them with frenzied movements. Gibberish sprung from her lips, and she reached towards Trixie with her hoof-blades.

Trixie backed away in a panic, chanting rapidly beneath her breath as her eyes started to mimic that of her prized skull, red and ominous. She nearly stumbled over her own hooves in her frenzy to get away.

Pinkie forced her limbs to move. Now was not the time to be thinking about why Trixie was summoning tentacles from the ground.

She sprang forward and fell upon the ensnared pony. The blades reached towards her, so she danced around to the back and ripped into the unprotected flesh. Her scythe unleashed a brutal bloodletting, deep lacerations opening up between the grasping tentacles with each swipe.

The pony's struggles slowed, lifeblood flowing from ever deepening wounds. The struggling only ripped them wider, and soon, there was no more blood left to drain. The tentacles receded into the earth, dropping the corpse on the ground.

Pinkie wasted no time and turned towards the next two.

Spearhead grunted in pain as another strike found its mark. He lashed out with his spear, impaling an assailant. With a surge of effort, he stuck the spear into the ground firmly. The clawed menace squirmed on the spear, steadily making its way up it. It was a terrifying sight, and made one wonder if the pony could even feel pain.

Baldwin swung again, and the blow went over a cultist’s head, missing again. He took more hits to the armor, seemingly unphased by the attacks. He swung the blade upward, and the attacker was forced to stumble back. Another hefty swing cleaved head from shoulders, its destructive arc continuing through a thicket with ease.

Pinkie slipped past Spearhead and ripped the throat out of the one he had impaled. Her scythe bit deep.

She pedaled away, breathing heavily. The four attackers were dead in various states of being ripped open and bled dry. Pinkie's scythe wounds marked most of them, and that brought her satisfaction and horror in equal measure. Truly, she was becoming a killer. Or maybe she always was, beneath the smiles and the parties.

No. This wasn't her; it would never be.

"Celestia be damned!" Spearhead's limbs shook. "I'm losing blood!"

"We have bandages!" Pinkie opened up her saddlebags. There wasn't one. It had to be in somepony else's bag.

"Trixie has the bandages-" Trixie's words were interrupted.

"There is still one left!" Spearhead leveled his spear towards her. "You all saw what she did, didn't you? She's with them, she has to be. Why else would she have touched the effigy and then had an ambush waiting for us on the way back?"

"Let's calm down." Pinkie said with a nervous laugh. Now was not the time for this. "We don't know each other's stories. This could be a coincidence."

"Trixie will not stand for such blatant accusations. Just because you do not understand her power, does not mean you can accuse her for it!" Trixie was levitating her prized skull again, eyes narrowed.

One of the ever-distant howls of the Timberwolves sounded, only this time, it was much closer. The shadows grew long, and the metallic scent of blood in the air was all the more noticeable. Such a scene was bound to attract the creatures of the forest.

"We should get out of here." Pinkie said. "You hear those howls? Tend to your wounds and let's leave!"

"No. It's just another trap. Get those bandages away from me!" Spearhead reeled away, blood dripping from open wounds as his gaze darted between them. "I know you are scheming something you witch. And you damned clown, you've cast your die in with her, haven't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Pinkie asked.

"I know you have all been playing me for the fool. I'm the only sane one here, this was all just a trap to lure me out into the forest, wasn't it?" Spearhead said. "Well guess what, you're not tricking me any longer!"

The forest creaked ominously, and the howls drew closer.

"Steady. The ire of the forest draws near." Baldwin heaved his blade again, using hooves and mouth to raise it.

"Spearhead. I know you might not trust us, but now is not the time for this." Pinkie said. "Something is coming, and we need to work together."

"Silence! I won't stand for your lies any longer! There is no way a clown like you could kill like that. You're with them, I know it." Spearhead readied his weapon, pointing it towards them. He swayed on his hooves. Untended wounds took their toll, seeping red from cracks in his armor.

With the sound of creaking wood, a figure emerged into the lantern light. It was a Timberwolf; Pinkie could tell that immediately. She had seen them years ago. Constructed of wood and branches, it was as if a tree had grown into the form of a wolf. However, it had changed since the last time she saw it.

Like the rotten forests it now dwelled, the Timberwolf was sagging and wretched. Its wooden body was covered in mushrooms, and the vibrant green glow of its eyes was now a wretched sickly pink, as if furless flesh. The stench of decay was nearly unbearable.

"Behind you!" Pinkie pointed with a hoof, panic and horror filling her chest. There was no way to get close enough to save him.

Spearhead didn't get the chance to turn as the massive wolf, easily double the size of a pony, latched its jaws around his head. Its wooden fangs cracked against armor and sunk into the gaps of it. The beast picked up the screaming Spearhead and shook its head back and forth rapidly. There was a crack, and Spearhead's body was flung against a tree with a gut-wrenching thud.

He tried to stand, blood leaking from his wounds only for another Timberwolf to emerge. It grabbed him from behind, pulling at his armor as it dragged him into the darkness. He disappeared, gut-wrenching screams sounding in the dark as the beasts descended upon him. His spear was left where it had fallen, useless in the dirt.

"Trixie does not wish to die here!" Trixie scrambled backwards, falling behind Pinkie.

Pinkie took a step back as a Timberwolf turned towards her, its rotten gaze locking onto her. She resisted the screaming urge to run. The only light was from the discarded lantern that Spearhead had dropped when he was pulled in the darkness.

It stepped forward, growling, and only one pony matched it.

Baldwin heaved his blade and stepped into the light. "Peace with adversity, strength through acceptance. Truly, I am a wretched thing."

The wolf lunged forward, and Baldwin sheltered behind his blade. Jaws wrapped around it, trying to tug it free, but Baldwin held strong.

Pinkie shook herself from the mounting dread. If he could stand against it, then she could as well. She darted forward, slicing her scythe across wood. The blade carved deep, but there was no blood to siphon.

The Timberwolf growled and swung its body around. Pinkie was knocked away, skipping across the dirt. She gasped in pain, her ribs aching. She pulled herself to her hooves, body stained with mud.

Trixie was backing away, getting ever closer to that tenebrous edge. She glanced behind her, and her body was tense. It was the stance of somepony about to run.

"Trixie! We need your help! We can beat it together!" Pinkie yelled.

"That thing just killed a pony!" Trixie screamed. “Trixie is not dying here!”

"And we just killed four!" Pinkie said. "Are you not great and powerful?"

"Trixie is indeed great and powerful!" Trixie said, shaking on her hooves.

"Then show me." Pinkie cried. “Because if you don't, we are all going to die!”

At those words, Trixie stopped. She gritted her teeth and levitated the skull in front of her. "Trixie is indeed great and powerful! Behold her magical might!"

The skull glowed, and a strange axis appeared in the air. It spun, a mesmerizing rotating circle of impossible lines and writing. A sound like shattered glass filled the air.

The sigil appeared on the Timberwolf's chest, and its crushing jaws appeared to weaken. It grew slower, the wood it was made of almost appearing more brittle.

Baldwin surged against it, throwing it back. His blade followed the movement, a pendulum of doom. The sound of splintering wood filled the air. If the beast was in pain, it did not show it.

Not to waste a chance, Pinkie Pie limped forward, ignoring the aching wounds on her body. She targeted one of its paws, slicing through the woven branches there. The Timberwolf's stance buckled, and it released a howl of rage. She dodged back from a stomp, breathing heavily from the near miss.

Baldwin raised his blade again, then swung it with all his might. It came down like an avalanche, crushing wood to splinter. It shattered the skull of the Timberwolf, cleaving through its body. Sick sap exploded outward with a shower of splinters, spore, and rot.

The Timberwolf fell, no longer animated by the foul magic that played its strings.

The other Timberwolf was gone for now, having dragged its prey into the dark.

"We need to go." Trixie said, voice shaking. "Before the other one returns. Trixie will not die here after such a victory."

Pinkie felt every nerve on her body firing. Her senses were sharp, her heart rapidly beating in her chest. "What about Spearhead's body?"

Baldwin grabbed the fallen lantern. "It belongs to the worms of the earth now. Follow me, we must make haste."

Pinkie took one last look at where Spearhead had disappeared to. She heard nothing but a distant howl. The amount of blood soaking this clearing was staggering and nauseating all the same. She turned away. Survival came first, not recovering dead bodies.

They trotted down the old road, watching every shadow. Pinkie couldn't help but feel like she could have done more to prevent Spearhead's death. She was supposed to make ponies laugh, why couldn't she have lightened the mood more? Those thoughts vanished as she heard voices ahead.

"They went down this path?" A rough voice asked.

"Yeah, and I expect them back anytime soon. They will be easy pickings."

Dread pooled in her stomach. It was bandits. She would recognize those tones anywhere. Then, she was filled with fury. She was already sick of the forest. Sick of it conniving and tricking and killing. Retribution would come later, for now, they just had to live. Survive. They all had to survive. They had to live to fight another day. It could not end here.

"Cut the lights." Pinkie said.

"What?" Trixie balked. "We wouldn't be able to see anything."

"Get the jump on them." Pinkie stalked forward, steel filling her heart. They just had to survive.

Baldwin met her eyes. He nodded and clicked the lantern off.

Trixie screamed. "What are you two doing? I can't see!"

"Hear that? That's them." A rough voice grumbled.

Pinkie crept forward to the side of the path. As the sound of hooves came towards her, she leapt towards them. Utterly blind, she lashed out like a pony possessed. Her scythe hit something fleshy, ripping through cloth and bone. A moment later, the light clicked back on.

Two bandits were standing there, one had a gaping wound across his belly, spilling blood like a faucet.

Another had his body cleaved in two before he could even draw his blade. Baldwin shoved his corpse aside, his foe obliterated in but a single swing.

"Wait! Wait! I yield!" The other bandit pleaded, clutching at his wound.

Pinkie was about to end him, but she suddenly had an idea. "Okay. You're free to go."

"I am?" The bandit stumbled back, a flicker of hope filling his eyes.

"Go on. Get out of here before I change my mind." Pinkie Pie snapped; she swore she could hear the Timberwolves closing in behind them. They didn't have time. No time.

"Trixie does not enjoy being plunged into darkness like that!" Trixie said. "And why did you let the bandit go? He will only return with more."

Pinkie watched the bandit flee into the overgrowth, leaving a trail of slick blood behind him. It was not too much that he couldn't run, but it left a trail. In the distance, a howl rang out. The words of Baldwin echoed in her mind, "A wise hunter need not chase prey that runs itself to death."

And if that prey caught the attention of something else, that was even better.

"The wolves will find him before he finds his friends." Pinkie Pie said. The words felt strange in her mouth, cruel, brutal.

"Then let us depart, before they find us." Baldwin said.

They followed the path onward. Pinkie was exhausted, her hooves feeling like weights on her legs. Every muscle burned, and the wound across her back was a streak of searing agony. Blood roared in her ears, and her mouth was dry as dirt on a summer's day. She forced her limbs to keep moving.

There was no talking amongst the group as they walked. They were all tired, and it showed in every step of dragging hooves. The only stop they made was to apply bandages to Pinkie's back, which stemmed the bleeding. Then they were off again, at a brisk non-stop pace.

When they breached the edge of the forest and entered back into Ponyville, Pinkie was more relieved than she had been in her entire life.

She did not collapse, though her body wished to. Breath entered her lungs and left it. She survived the forest again. Most of them survived…

Pinkie couldn't get the sight of Spearhead being dragged away out of her mind. The wounds on the bodies she inflicted by her hoof. It was all too similar to that day, that day the town was attacked. When it was burned by the bandits. Her friends butchered, and her, unable to do anything to save them. Maybe Spearhead was a rough pony, but he didn't deserve to die.

She couldn't let the forest get the best of her. Couldn't let this evil get the best of her. All that mattered was excising this tumor, surviving it, and then laughing at the end of it. If she could just keep laughing, then the darkness would always seem a little brighter. And so that's what she did.

Pinkie let out a choked laugh. Her throat was constricted by fear and pain, but she laughed. It was a bitter laugh. She would laugh. Even if she had failed yet again, letting another pony be swallowed up by this evil.

For whom else would laugh in a hell like this?