The Glorious Sun

The cell was dark. Shadows covered the walls. The corners were filled with the remains of previous occupants, and the odd rat. The only light source was from the barred opening up above, high above the stone floor. The light threw the small room into a sharp contrast - the walls were old, and mossy, but they held strong.

The opening above seemed to mock the newest inhabitant, who was currently curled up on the cold floor. He sat there, unmoving. What little sunlight there was shone on his body. His body was thin, and emaciated. Small strands of electric blue hair hung from his head, and what remained of his tail was the same color. His skin was clearly visible between the patches of dark gray fur that had managed to stick onto his body. That skin was mottled brown; it was more appropriate for a decaying body than a living being.

Or perhaps not; the last thing the stallion remembered was a large sword flying towards his chest, and an instant of pain that dulled away quicker than he could blink.

He flapped his wings, trying to see what they could do. Unfortunately, they were just as decayed as the rest of his body. Taught skin covered these limbs, with the majority of his feathers missing. Sighing in defeat, the stallion looked up at the small window, wishing he could still fly. He wondered what he had done to be put into such a poor condition.

Time passed slowly for the stallion; minutes grew into hours, hours into days. That same light persisted throughout, never ceasing, never fading. He wondered if he had gone insane. After several moments of thought, he realized that could very well be the case. Before he could take his thoughts any further, though, he heard the shuffling of armor and labored breath. The stallion looked upwards, his eyes widening in surprise.

A body fell through the window, smacking into the ground in front of the dark coated stallion. He looked upward, wondering who had interrupted his imprisonment. Astonished, he saw a milky brown face peer at him from beneath a metal helm. The pony above nodded once, then moved onward, his slight build covered by sturdy armor.

The stallion in the cell moved forward cautiously, approaching the dead body. A faint glow ensconced the body, and the stallion’s eyes were drawn to a metal chain around the body’s waist. A grabbed it, and he realized it was a key chain with a single key. Hoping beyond hope, he rose and staggered to the door, pressing the key through the metal bars and into the hole on the other side. After a second of struggle, the key slid into place, and a small click could be heard.

The stallion pushed the door outward, free from his imprisonment. He walked forward, a long hallway in front of him. He was cautious, side stepping ponies that were in a worse state than even he. They were mindless, or seemed very near so. Their cries and moans were disconcerting, more proper for a beast than a rational being. Shuddering in strange horror, the stallion found a staircase that led upwards.

After a brief climb, the stallion found himself in a courtyard, enclosed by the same stone from below. There was a large wooden gate at one end, and there was a small pile of ash in the center, pierced by a small sword. The stallion regarded it curiously, wondering why there would be a sword embedded in the ground. He nudged it with a hoof, and recoiled. The sword was blazing hot, and glowed a dull red. The stallion’s interference stirred the flame, and a small red flame flared to life at the base of the kindling.

The stallion wasn’t sure why, but he felt safe at that moment. A sense of calm washed over him. He jerkily kneeled down and rested on the sparse grass near the bonfire. Warmth spread through his body, and many of his aches melted away. He sat there, basking in the fire’s warmth. It was only when he shifted that he noticed a bright glint in the corner of his eye. Looking down, a small pendant lay on the ground, its chain rusty and a faint picture on the inside; it was eroded to the point where he was only able to make out the general shape of a mare.

The stallion picked up the pendant, inspecting it closely. There was a small note on the side opposite the picture. He unwrapped the ripped paper carefully, and read it.

“-while you’re gone. I know that the Princess is drafting all eligible stallions for the guard, but that doesn’t change how I feel about this ridiculous war. Please, I don’t want you to come back boasting a minotaur’s horn; just come back safe. I love you, Thunderlane.”

The stallion squinted at the writing, and felt a pang in his heart. The writing had been covering a picture; it was of a dark coated stallion, with an electric blue mane. He tucked the note back in and hung the pendant over his head, letting it rest against his chest. His thoughts drifted to his own identity. He remembered nothing, save for how his life had ended. It almost seemed ridiculous: how could he be alive, if he had already died?

Standing up, the stallion decided he had spent more than enough time resting. He moved to the gate, and pushed it open with what strength he could muster. After a moment’s exertion, he had opened it far enough so he could walk through. Stepping through, the stallion gaped at the sight before him.

A large tower, composed entirely of crystal, captured his immediate attention. It stood high and proud above the surrounding cityscape. The sky was a light gray, and the surrounding mountains were speckled white and black. The streets closest to him were blocked off by debris and mounds of dead bodies. Stepping forward, the stallion noted that one of the bodies was not, in fact, dead.

It was the same pony that had helped him escape from his cell. The same armor, same slender build. He was bloodied, and had collapsed near one of the debris mounds. The stallion rushed over, unsure of what to do. His savior raised his head as he approached, then spoke softly.

“Ah... hello there. I had hoped you weren’t hollow. It appears I was unmistaken. My name is Pipsqueak... I came here for a purpose... to find someone. But, as you can see ... I don’t have long to live. I suppose I failed in that regard. But you...you can carry on the torch. Hear me out, will you?”

The stallion stood still as a memory jogged in the back of his memory.

Pipsqueak... he’s a friend, of my - brother. Rumble. Pip was so small, but this stallion is so... old. What happened?

The undead stallion nodded. “Of course, just... tell me,” he said raspily.

Pipsqueak wasted no time. “I came here, to find a stallion named Thunderlane. No doubt he’s hollowed, but ... he’s the older brother of my friend. He asked me to find his brother while he tried to find a way into Canterlot... and so here I am, bleeding out in the Crystal Empire.” Pipsqueak coughed loudly. “Please... find him. He must be here somewhere, I know it. All those that died after … after the Light, have been brought here. Please, find him, and tell him his brother is looking for him.” He coughed again, blood dripping from his mouth.

The stallion stood straight and took a step away from Pipsqueak. That name... That picture was so similar, and we both have a little brother... I think I’m who he’s looking for.

“I - I’ll tell him. I’ll find him, and help. Is there anything-?”

Pipsqueak shook a hoof at him. “No, no... no. I’m done for. There’s no time, and I would hate to harm you after I hollow... Please, take this.” He reached for something in his pouch, and pulled out a dull green flask. Pipsqueak shoved it into Thunderlane’s grasp, who took the offered flask, inspecting it closely.

“That there is an estus flask. The bonfires will provide you with estus - it will heal any injury you may endure. Incredibly useful. A shame I ran out when those hollows came by...”

The older stallion nodded gratefully at Pipsqueak. “Thank you. I’ll find your friend, er...”

“Thunderlane.”

Thunderlane flinched. “...Yes. I will find him for you, or … uh ... I will die trying. Right. Farewell.”

Thunderlane stood up and walked away from Pipsqueak, hoping he would never have to see the poor colt again.

Pipsqueak’s voice carried over the stale air as he walked away. “It’s not death you have to fear, friend. Your sanity is much more important.” Thunderlane shivered.

Thunderlane continued along the street, making his way to the center of the city. The Crystal Palace loomed over him like an ominous guardian. Most buildings had collapsed, blocking any alternate routes. That suited Thunderlane fine; he was making decent progress regardless.

He had found what looked suspiciously like an old table on the ground, but upon picking it up he felt several straps on the underside. After fiddling with the old planks for a minute, he had managed to sling the straps around his left foreleg and pull it up. Secondary straps attached the shield to his back, ensuring it wouldn’t slip to the ground as he walked. Testing out the makeshift shield, Thunderlane found he could simply plant his left leg into the ground in front of him, and the old wood provided a solid barrier against enemies in front of him. Glancing around, he found what he guessed was one of the legs of the table. Picking it up, he realized it was surprisingly hefty; it would serve admirably as a club.

I’ll be forced to walk on three legs if I fight, but that shouldn’t be too hard. Just need to practice not tripping.

Working through the motions, Thunderlane eventually became comfortable with the act of holding out his plank shield and makeshift club. Trotting along, he came across one zombie - whom he easily beat aside. The next zombie was holding a broken sword in its mouth, which Thunderlane was barely able to deflect before driving his club into its skull. The next encounter, though, surprised him.

He had traveled most of the distance to the center of the city, where the Crystal Palace loomed over him. To his consternation, there was a group of three zombies right next another sword driven into an ashen mound. Two held broken swords, like before, but the third held a bow. As he slowly approached, Thunderlane saw the bow pony look at him and, in an amazing feat of dexterity, stand up on two legs and draw the bow. Thunderlane caught a glimpse of the zombie’s hooves - they were covered in strange, glowing gauntlets. That was all he saw before it released an arrow, hitting Thunderlane straight in the shoulder.

Howling in pain, Thunderlane was almost blindsided by a rushing attack from one of the sword wielders. He blocked its attack, delivering a firm blow from his club to put it down. The zombie’s companion had snuck up on him, and managed to get several slashes in before Thunderlane jumped back a foot. Panting, he jumped forward, striking the zombie as it recovered from its flurry. At that moment, another arrow hit his leg. The limb seized up, Thunderlane grunting through the pain. Turning to his foe, Thunderlane saw the bow wielder trot away, enraging the stallion.

Doing his best to sprint, Thunderlane managed to catch up to the cowardly zombie, catching its tail in his teeth. It stumbled, not expecting to be stopped. Thunderlane took the opportunity to strike with his left hoof, pinning the zombie down, and then bringing his club down on the back of its head.

With all of his opponents dead, Thunderlane collapsed, exhausted beyond measure. His vision was blurry, a creeping blackness encroaching on its edges. Shaking his head, Thunderlane could only think of one thing. Estus. I need estus. Reaching into a sack he was using to carry his few belongings, Thunderlane grabbed the green flask and brought it to his lips. After a second, he realized nothing was flowing out. Empty. Damn... need to get... bonfire...

Thunderlane limped to the embedded sword, panting in agony. Roughly knocking the flame to life, he held out the flask, not knowing what to expect. When the flames touched the flask, the dull green disappeared in a flash of gold. Thunderlane swirled the container, feeling the contents slosh to and fro. Without hesitation he threw his head back and drank his fill. He gagged when the viscous fluid hit his lips, but the momentary disgust was swept away when he felt glorious relief. Looking down, Thunderlane noticed that not only had his injuries been partially healed, the arrows had been forcibly shoved out - at worst, it seemed he had only suffered bad scratches.

Happily exhaling, Thunderlane sat down, willing to ignore what remained of his maladies - until they were completely swept away too. The pegasus looked at the small fire in awe.

The bonfire heals one fully... and the flask captures its essence? Why has this never been thought of before?

A radical thought gripped Thunderlane’s mind. Standing up, he held up his club and extended a hoof in front of him. Taking a deep breath, Thunderlane swung the club with his full might at his own hoof. There was a sickening crack.

“AAARGH!!! Ah, ah, ah!” Thunderlane panted, grimacing at what he had just done. His hoof was limp, the skin and bone underneath crumpled in a way that looked and felt horrible. Strangely, though, there was no blood. A chill running down his spine, Thunderlane sat next to the fire again, hoping his hypothesis was correct. A moment later he was justified. A small groan escaped his lips as the muscles and skin reformed, another crack ringing through the air. An itch, and then relief. The broken hoof was completely healed.

Well... never doing THAT again. But, I was right, the bonfires and the estus flasks heal me up perfectly.

Thunderlane stood up. He looked down the street ahead, making sure no more zombies were in sight. With nowhere else to travel, Thunderlane walked down the street, approaching a large gate that seemed to lead to the Crystal Palace. Pushing it open, he found himself in a large arena-esque courtyard. The surrounding streets were all blocked off by debris and metal bars - the gate he had walked through seemed to be the only entrance.

“Damn... I knew I should have fixed up the gate before resting.” Thunderlane’s ears swiveled, hearing a somewhat gravelly voice above and in front. Looking up, he saw a large, white unicorn stallion with a navy blue mane stare at him. The unicorn held a large halberd with his magic, and Thunderlane’s eyes widened when he realized the weapon could easily skewer him.

With a leap, the unicorn landed in front of Thunderlane, swiveling the halberd with a practiced motion. He addressed Thunderlane directly.

“Get out of here, hollow. You seem a bit more... lucid than the rest, so take my advice, and go back the way you came.”

Thunderlane smacked his lips nervously several times. “Uh... listen, I just want to know how I can get to Canterlot. I’ll leave right away, just... tell me? Please?”

The unicorn narrowed his eyes. “The Crystal Empire was sealed by Celestia’s magic to make sure the undead didn’t spread. You’re obviously undead - I’m not letting you leave.”

“...Wait. Who’s Celestia?”

The unicorn sighed and shook his head. “Right. Decomposing does stuff to your head. For your information, Celestia is... was, our regent. I’m the Captain of her guard, Shining Armor. As such, I’m charged with making sure all undead interred here remain here. That includes you.”

Thunderlane gaped at Shining incredulously. “Wh-why would she do that? Aren’t we her subjects!?”

Shining Armor stepped forward, lowering the halberd so it almost touched Thunderlane. “Yes. But for the good of Equestria, and for your own good, you may not leave. Turn back, or I will take any measures necessary to make sure you stay in your place.”

“What!? No! Listen, I need to find my brother! He’s in Canterlot, just let me-”

Shining Armor shoved Thunderlane back with his halberd, sending the pegasus sprawling. “That’s my final warning. Leave.”

Thunderlane couldn’t believe his ears. I’m being held against my will. What kind of government does that? No... I’m not letting him do this. He stood back up, holding his shield in front of him.

“I’m not leaving.”

Shining Armor took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Fine. But make my job easier and don’t come back when the bonfire revives you.” Stepping back, the unicorn tensed his muscles and held the halberd with a firm magical grip. He jumped, swinging the halberd at Thunderlane.

Thunderlane put up his shield at just the right moment, but the sheer force of the blow staggered him and cut him on his side. Gasping, Thunderlane tried a counter-attack, bringing the club to bear on Shining.

The strike connected, but Shining was hardly fazed. Grunting, Shining thrusted the halberd, and completely pierced Thunderlane’s side. The pegasus screamed, but Shining ignored him, lifting him up with the halberd, then throwing him aside by flicking it.

Thunderlane was tossed several meters, and hit a wall. He collapsed, his breaths ragged and halting. His vision fading, he saw Shining Armor roll his shoulders before walking to the center of the courtyard. There was a small statue of a heart there, which Shining rubbed absentmindedly with a hoof.  “Damn hollows...”

Thunderlane laid his head down, too tired to keep looking. Breath in... breath out...

There was darkness.