//-------------------------------------------------------// The Fallen One -by Tsunami Rain- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1 of 3 - A Stone's Path //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 1 of 3 - A Stone's Path Chapter 1 of 3 - A Stone’s Path As the sun falls below the horizon-and the equines find their way home for the night-a certain statue stretches, sore from his daily routine of standing stock-still. His name is Hapi, he was once the god of the river which he now spends his days watching as it lazily drifts by. But no more, he has long since ascended from this realm, his only link to this world the statue which his son, Ramses, crafted. Every night, he is freed from the forced position of the statue, and is able to wander the city until the sun rises once more. He enjoys his nighttime excursions as standing on that rock all day makes his hooves itch. He absentmindedly runs his fingers through his mane and flicks his tale, testing the air. Satisfied he gives a mighty heave and jumps silently into the air flapping his wings gently so as not to wake anyone. Hapi flies around until he spots the dwelling where his son resides, gently landing in front of it. He waits there for precisely six minutes and twenty-three seconds, when Ramses finally appears. The creature that just walked from the shelter was a spitting image of his father. Ramses was a winged minotaur, and he was a demi-god living among mortals, only he knew of his father’s true existence, and only he knew of his life status; which was exactly the way he wanted it. Ramses has inherited his deitic father’s longevity and has consequently been through many events in his life, both good and bad. A long time before he settled in Dehenet, he was recognized as quite a hero by his people. But those days were over, he has failed. The last of a dying race, and he must live with the guilt of causing its destruction. Of course, there were other minotaurs in the world, they just didn’t have wings, so it wasn’t the same. Hapi motioned for Ramses to climb onto his hand, as he could not hope to keep up with the god, even in his statuesque body. He then took off once more into the air, and soared under the stars to the mountain range that split the land, ending the desert and instating a region of fertile soil with forest and plains abound. It was a short flight for him, but would take any other creature upward of four months to brave the desert heat and even spot the range on the horizon. Setting down on a clearing that he and his son frequented, Hapi looked over the world he has known for much longer than any other creature alive today, and was content. He would suffer any number of hours in the sweltering desert sun, as long as he can continue to have these moments- these moments of reflection with his son. Hapi usually thought about the times before the ascension, when this land was filled with beings such as he, when it was a blank canvas- a playground for the gods. But this time, he simply sat and watched his son as he thought of his own adventures throughout the land. Hapi felt sad for Ramses, as he knows the trouble and pain the last of the winged minotaurs has been through; he knows the guilt that must weigh down on his shoulders, the guilt of surviving, the pain of losing the entirety of his race. Ramses was indeed thinking about the fall of his race; about his narrow escape; about the reason the Guardians actually attacked his people; about his failure to protect his people, his failure to live up to his title, his birthright, his father. He remembered it well, and wished he didn't. Yet, Ramses wouldn't forget it for the world, he wanted to remember; he wanted to know that he had failed, that he needs redemption. //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 2 of 3 - The Champion's Guilt //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 2 of 3 - The Champion's Guilt Chapter 2 of 3 - The Champion’s Guilt Ramses was the son of the creator of the great, winged minotaurs. He was destined for great things. He grew up training, in all manner of things. At the age of twelve he was sent into the wilds below the mountain range in the far North that his race called home, and was tasked to survive alone for a year; with permission to carry out in any means necessary. Ramses was ready for the task, he sought out a cave in which to domineer, and ended up running into an Ursa Major. The battle for territory was long and arduous, but Ramses walked away and the Ursa didn't. He used that cave for about seven months, but was then forced out of it by a torrential downpour that flooded anything below sea level. Resorting to travel for the last five months, he set out to see what the lands past his mountain home would hold in the way of challenges. For five months he fought any creature that stood their ground in his path, each and every time he came out victorious, but with a new scar to tell another story. He came back home a hero, having earned his title, his birthright- Ramses, Demi-god and Champion of the Winged Minotaurs. He lived under this guise for many years, fulfilling the deeds tasked to him by the gods, and besting any foe that jeopardized the good of his people. Eventually, he got cocky, and started looking for trouble, and fought tougher and tougher foes. When one day, he went too far......... Ramses had upset the Guardians, those beings that guarded the border between the mortal world and the realm of the gods. He wanted to search the realm for an Agent of Death, but in doing so, violated the pact created between the gods and the winged minotaurs. The Guardians were relentless, not showing mercy even to the young, the old, or the disabled. Ramses, by the order and aid of his father, fled. He ran non-stop, until he reached the very mountain they now sat on, reflecting the past in silence as they did every night. In the end, he was to blame. He let his achievements go to his head; he got too ambitious and he caused the fall of his race. At first, it was too much, he spent hundreds of years roaming the labyrinthian ruins of the great cities that once thrived with the everyday banter of thousands upon thousands of creatures just like him. But no more. No. Now, it was just he, Ramses, Champion of the Dead, Holder of Untold Guilt. During this time, many legends sprung up about the Great Minotaur, the protector of priceless treasures hidden deep within his labyrinth. After tirelessly scouring the world for any sign of his son, searching everywhere except the very home of his creation, searching for centuries on end, Hapi found his son. He took Ramses to Dehenet, where he told the people of Hapi’s power, and grace, and love. He carved an eighty foot statue of his father, right in the middle of their town, and as the community grew, so did the legends that followed the winged minotaur everywhere he went. He just lived on, looking for an opportunity to redeem himself, to regain the respect he once had, and leave out the ignorance that tainted his life once before. //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 3 of 3 - A Token of Forgiveness //-------------------------------------------------------// Chapter 3 of 3 - A Token of Forgiveness Chapter 3 of 3 - A Token of Forgiveness Hapi, unable to bear even seeing his son in such depression, no matter how humble, had to think of a way to make Ramses happy once more. He wanted to show that any action can be forgiven, no matter the scale of the consequences. He sat there, playing with the dirt, as he used to do in the olden days. And inspiration struck him. He would make his son a mate! Ramses would be soaring through the skies, unable to withhold his joy, or so he hoped. He took Ramses home a little early that evening, and went straight to work, it would take a long while, but his son’s birthday was in three weeks, and what better gift than that of redemption?! He went back to the mountain range, and followed them North; searching for the lost land of the winged minotaurs. Upon reaching his old home, Hapi stopped just to reminisce for a time, he then scooped up a giant double-fist-full of clay from the side of the mountain, the very material he used to make the first being in his image. Flying back through the mountains, he stopped a few peaks away from their usual place of reflection, and began the steps to forging new life. The days passed, and he made slow progress, but the night before Ramses’ birthday, he had finished. Life had been made. Hapi awoke instead-to the great surprise of everyone in the city-at noon, and shot off into the sky, heading for the mountain where his creation lay hidden. He blew into the dormant body, and poured all of the love he held for his son into that one breath, ensuring that they would be perfect for each other. He realized that there was still one problem to be addressed, this lovely cow he made had no name. She needed a name before she was ready to meet Ramses. Nephthys. He had found a name, it was perfect. Nephthys. It tickled his tongue whenever he said, it would make Ramses very happy, and he knew it. Flying back to the city, and finding every single inhabitant listening almost religiously to his son’s speech as he attempted to explain the statue’s sudden urge to wake up and walk away. Hapi, laughed, and addressed the people himself, “Ramses is right, my dear people...” his voices boom through time and space as he tells the tale of the old gods. That night, there was a huge celebration. The party was held for Ramses, and his acts of valor. After mingling for a while, he returned to his father, where they set off to their mountaintop, unaware of the surprise that waited for him. Upon reaching the place of memory, Ramses immediately noticed that something was different, though he couldn't exactly put his finger on it... After talking for about an hour, Hapi couldn't wait any longer. He called out, and sang her name to the heavens. “Nephthys! Come from where you hide!” At that, the beautiful mate that he had spent so much time making for his son, revealed herself. Ramses’ jaw dropped, and then he was fifty feet in the air, howling with unending joy. He came back down after realizing he should probably meet her, and introduced himself. He spent countless hours just talking to Nephthys, telling her of the people they once were. As the moon began to disappear behind the horizon, Hapi took them home, and resumed his place in city central, watching over his new people, the many peoples of the great Eastern desert. Hapi awoke the next evening to find that mountains of flowers and other gifts were situated around his base; but one stood out in particular, one token that could only have been brought by one of his own, a labyrinthian memory. The sword which Ramses used to vanquish the foes during his time as the Champion of the Winged Minotaurs. It had been lost in the destruction of their home, or so he thought. “How did you managed to pull this one off, Ramses?” Hapi quietly mused to himself. //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue //-------------------------------------------------------// Prologue The Fallen One Prologue A group of nomadic ponies is travelling North across the endless desert, praying to their gods that they may find water. A dune that is easily fifteen times the size of any other in the area suddenly crosses their path. The ponies stop, wondering whether to turn in a different direction, or to brave the treacherous climb in a wind that only exists around such mounds. One pony, weak of heart and will, shakes his head and turns East, hoping to have better luck by going a different direction. The rest of the ponies watch as he trudges through the sand. Once he has crested the third dune, the rest of the group look to each other for confirmation, as they all nod in agreement, they face the hill once more and begin the dangerous climb. As they reach the pinnacle of the massive pile of sand, the ponies all gasp as their breath is stolen away from them. Below is a giant river, with a thriving community stretching across both banks, entirely hidden from view by the sheer size of the dune the group was standing on. All along the river is a stretch of beautiful, green grass, presumably the reason for the city in the first place. In what they assumed to be the city center, there was a giant statue of a great being who stood on two legs. This being was crafted with great skill, it's horned head reaching the sky along with the intricately carved wings, its tale resting gracefully wrapped around the rock on which the being stood tall. The fatigued group of travelers set off down the hill with a renewed vigor, curiosity spurring their exhausted bodies onward. The buildings were all made of red clay from the river bed, and they were supported by thin, scratchy logs from trees which lined the river on both banks. They reached an inn just as the sun was setting. Inside there was a tavern surround by doors which likely branched off into rooms for rent. The innkeeper, noticing new faces, came out from behind the bar to great the weary nomads. He offered them a table, and some drinks. Once that was provided, the innkeeper sat down with them, and answered their questions. He explained that the city, called Dehenet, was founded upon the resting place of Hapi, the god which resided in the river. The statue in the center was of the artist depiction of Hapi. Amongst his ramblings were many more interesting facts about the city, plus some old myths and stories that he had acquired during his time at the inn. Once it seemed as though the innkeeper had said all there was to say, the group of ponies requested a room large enough for all of them, and as soon as they were shown which was theirs, they settled in and went to sleep.