The Guardian

by TheWritingGuru

Rating: teen
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Romance, Adventure, Tragedy
Length: 2563

I am the keeper of the ancient knowledge from before the time of even the great alicorns. I have watched kingdoms burn to the ground, their ashes scatter across the nations they once ruled...

I am the keeper of the ancient knowledge from before the time of even the great alicorns. I have watched kingdoms burn to the ground, their ashes scatter across the nations they once ruled. I am always on the run, constantly looking over my shoulder for those who'd use the secrets I protect to destroy everything we hold dear. But I can only run for so long, for they'll find me once again, and when they do they'll destroy everything in their path until they get what they want. I must not let this happen no matter what…

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-05-02 07:50:02 UTC

Prologue

The winds of a mid summer lightning storm assaulted the everfree forest with an ungodly wrath, unrooting ancient trees which had withstood the test of time ever since the first dawn. Sheets of icy rain, colder than a  windigo’s soul bombarded the landscape below as lightning danced across the heavens, illuminating the tree tops and the valleys below while the deafening roar of thunder echoed throughout every crack and crevice of the ancient realm.

But despite the rage filled storm, an elderly cloaked stallion carrying an old farmer’s scythe walked towards the forest unfazed by what he was witnessing. The blade shimmered with a ghoulish aura, made of the souls of the dead. The sickly green glow illuminated the path before him, as rain sliding off the thin cloak. Woven from the shadows of the deepest darkest depths of the void.

Behind him, two foals followed in close pursuit. The younger of the two, a snowy filly, with a brilliant blue mane, glanced pleadingly towards her brother for answers. Her majestic ruby red eyes filled to the brim with terror as they gazed at her brother. Tears of fear trickled down from his stunning forest green eyes, staining his deep charcoal black checks of his square, broad complexion.

Many a times had they tried to run away, only to be found and punished with black magic. Now they followed with their fears reigned tightly bound around them, forcing their stiff sore limbs to move as if possessed by the spirits of the dead.

“Vinyl!” the colt whispered, his eyes locking onto what he is presuming to be the back of the elderly stallion’s head. “Got any idea where he’s taking us?”

The filly  merely opened and closed her mouth silently, unable to summon her voice.

“We are almost there,” The Elderly Stallion announced over his shoulder, his voice echoing with that of his latest victims, the voices of the foals’ parents.

“But where are you taking us?”  the colt demanded, forcing himself to sound brave for his sister's sake.

“You’ll see,” The Elderly Stallion answered, picking up his pace. “We’d best hurry, the Lords don’t like to be kept waiting.”

A cry from a timber wolf echoed through the night air, causing a new found fear to enter Vinyls heart, over the sound of the raging heavens and crackling of splintering wood as trees snapped and tumbled down to the muddy ground. Causing her mind to flash back to the countless tales her father had spun about the creatures that lurk in the deepest darkest depths of the everfree forest.

Along with these tales, he had also shown her detailed drawings of rotting timber wolves, plagued bears, and countless other foul creature. Which then flicked across her eyes like ghosts of the past, as the flowery valley gave way to the pine forest.

Her parents had only one rule, and this rule echoed in the back of her mind in her parents voices as she tentatively walked into the almost pitch blackness of the everfree forest: “Never go into the forest”. It is this rule that made her hang her head in shame as she broke it.

“But what choice do I have?” Vinyl asked herself silently, as the glowing yellow eyes of an timberwolf caught her attention.

Trembling, Vinyl watched the head of a juvenile timberwolf appear from the shadows, the beast slowly walking towards her.  At first, the massive creature didn’t notice the trembling filly, and continued on its path, but a small whimper escaped Vinyls lips.

With blood-lust in its eyes, the timberwolf bore down upon its prey, saliva dripping from its mouth as the beast thought about the meal it was about to partake in. It’s rancid breath brought tears to Vinyls eyes, as she stared down into the timberwolves throat, determined not to let herself show any fear.

Closing her eyes, Vinyl sat straight up waiting for her death, and for what seemed like hours, she sat still as a boulder, until something hot and sticky dripped onto her noise. At first she dismissed it as saliva, but after some time of nothing else happening, Vinyl finally opened her eyes to see the elderly stallion yanking his now sap covered weapon from the head of the timberwolf.

“You’re brave,” the elderly stallion stated, while cleaning the blade of his weapon. “Good. You’ll need that for the events to come.”

Vinyl merely nodded her head slowly in confusion, unsure of how to react to the complement that was just paid to her, but quickly pushed the thought aside as she saw her brother, out of the corner of her eye, stumbling forward, as if light-headed. Vinyl knew her brother didn’t react well to blood, yet it still confused her how sap from a timberwolf would have the same effect.

“Crescent!” Vinyl yelled, as she ran to her brother as he began to stumble.

Time slowed to a snail's pace as Vinyl watched her brother collapse into the mud, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he passed out cold. Panic entered her chest as she skidded to a stop in front of the eerily-still heap she knew as her beloved brother, but diminished as she saw his chest begin to rise up and down slowly.

“You big chicken,” Vinyl mocked kind heartedly, while gently stroking his side with a muddy hoof.

“We must be off,” the elderly stallion stated, lifting the two foals into the air with his magic.

His aura filled Vinyl with a deep despair and loneliness, the feelings the elderly stallion felt every day, or at least that what Vinyl thought. Whenever her mother picked her up in her magical aura, she could feel when her mother was happy, sad, or worried, for “a unicorn’s aura portrays the feelings of the individual” her mother had told her, to explain to Vinyl why she could feel her feelings.

It was her mother’s words that made Vinyl wonder about the elderly stallion, as at first all she thought was that he was a emotionless, cruel, stallion who had taken her parents away from her. But now she couldn’t help but wonder, “What happened to you?” A question she would never get the chance to ask, because upon being set onto the cloaked back of the elderly stallion, all her energy was sapped out of her.

Causing her to be sent into a deep sleep, full of vivid dreams of the past, a time she wishes had never changed...

Gently the elderly stallion lay Vinyl and her brother onto a bed of pine needles in a clearing, in the middle of which sat three stone thrones bathing in the... bathing in the rays of a full moon that peeked out through a gap in the cloud. The thorn vines were illuminated the thorny vines from the shadowy forest that clung to the cracks in the old weathered stone, their blood red flowers in full bloom.

In these thrones sat three figures, each wearing long thin robes that flowed freely in the wind. Two of the three figures’ eyes glowed from the shadows of the hoods where their faces hid. The figure’s eyes in the far most left throne glowed the color of the sands of time, while his counterpart to the farmost right shimmered like lightning dancing playfully across the clouds to deafening thunder.

“My lords,” the Elderly Stallion began respectfully, kneeling before the three figures. “I regret to inform you that the guardian did just as you predicted.”

“We know,” said the middle figure coldly, as it got up from its throne. “What have you brought before us, Death?”

“I have brought his children,” Death replied steadily, kneeling.

“And why have you brought them here?” the figure inquires.

“The world is changing. Life is beginning to flourish like never before. I am growing weak,” Death answered. “And with the guardian gone, there is a need to name another one to protect the tomb.”

The figure on the left signaled for Death to stand. “What does this have to do with you?”

“I am no longer able to perform the duty that you’ve tasked me with properly,” Death said tiredly, getting back to his hooves. “I have brought these two before you this evening as the replacements for both the Guardian, and myself.”

“What makes you think these foals would be of any use to us?” the middle figure asks curiously, taking his seat in the throne behind him.

“I have chosen the filly to be my predecessor,” Death began, looking at each of the figures for objections before continuing on. “I have done this because she is brave and caring, both of which are traits she will need in order to perform my tasks and defend the Guardian.”

“Is this all?” the figure to the far most right asked, leaning forwards towards Death.

“No,” Death answered, looking at the figure to the farmost right. “Just as this world is starting to evolve, so must death. No longer do they believe in me: instead they now believe in angels that guide them to the nether, or as they call it,

“Heaven”. I believe this filly to be the best choice because of her compassion, which will help her gently guide the deserving to the nether peacefully, thus making death just another door to be opened, a new adventure to partake, a new beginning...”

Death paused to let what he has said to sink in.

“Her bravery will help her stand in front of any who wish to use the scroll for harm,” Death continued, “and the fact that they’re siblings makes it so there is a special connection between them, which will help her find the strength to fight on to protect him even when all hope would seem lost.”

“And what of the colt?” the lord to the farmost left inquired, jestering towards the unconscious Crescent.

“His greatest strength is his intelligence and intuition ,” Death stated, shifting his position. “While he may not be a fighter, he has the intelligence to make the right decisions, and intuition to know when something isn’t right. I believe he would greatly contribute to the success of the protection of the tomb in more ways that not.”

“Is there anything else you would like to add?” The figure to the left asked.

Death nodded. “The fact that they’re siblings will help them withstand the test of time.”

“I fail to see how that is of any importance,” the middle figure stated tiresomely.

“With all due respect, milord,” Death responded, looking at the middle figure, “you will never understand the burdened of eternal life to the extent that I do. It breaks one’s will to go on by forcing them to watch their family, loved ones, and friend grow old and die around them, while simply living on, just as healthy as the day granted the gift of immortality.”

“Duly noted,” the cloaked figure to the left said, standing up. “Brothers, I believe that Death has brought up many points, yet despite this I believe he has made the right decision.”

“I believe you’ve earned the right to venture into the nether my old friend, but are these two who you truly desire to take yours, and the guardians place?” the figure to the left asked, looking at Death from his throne. “You’ll be leaving the fate of everything that lives from the smallest blade of grass, to the biggest Hydra in the hooves of these two young children.”

“I stand by what I have said,” Death stated, looking at each one of the cloaked figures. “I, Death, protector of the guardian and shepherd of souls, hereby request leave from my position, and that you pass it to whom I have selected to be my predecessor.”

“Then I, as Lord of Time, here by relieve you of your position. May you find the peace you hope for in the afterlife,” the figure on the left said, waving a glowing hoof through the air. “Goodbye old friend.”

With a sigh of relief, Death’s soul left his body in a milky glow, and for the first time in centuries, a smile spread across his face as he returned to his youth. No longer was his flesh slowly rotting away from his body, but he became as he once was, a young, powerful stallion, and with another wave of a hoof to the Lord of Time, Death vanished into the nether, his corpse turning to rose petals and scattering into the winds, leaving behind only his cloak and scythe.

“Now, to move onto other business,” stated the middle figure irritably, looking over at The Lord of Time.

“Don’t get upset my brother,” The Lord of Time said, waving a hoof dismissively. “The Lord of the Heavens and I are giving our old friend some time to settle in the nether, before replacing him.”

“You mustn’t forget what he has done for us, and for that he deserves our respect and gratitude,” The Lord of the Heavens said sternly, turning towards the figure beside him. “Are you beginning to think little of those who serve us? Or are you becoming corrupt?”

“Be careful of what you say,” spat the middle Lord in disgust, sitting up straighter as he stared at the two unctuous foals. “Accusation can be dangerous.”

The Lords of Time and Heaven glanced at one another, speaking unspoken words. “What I said was no mere accusation, it was the truth,” The Lord of the Heavens said clearly, as a long thin blade begins to materialize in the Lord of Time’s hoof.

“How long have you known?” the middle lord asked calmly.

“For some time now,” The Lord of the Heavens stated, as The Lord of Time ran the long thin blade through his brothers side. “The Ancient tome is not for our eyes to read, nor is it’s power to be used to cleanse this world of the creators you deem unworthy.”

The middle figure looked down at his wound, and begins to laugh.

“Do you truly think you’d be rid of me that easy?” scoffed the Middle lord, as black blood flowed freely from the wound. “Did you honestly think that I, the Lord of the Nether, would die this easily?”

“No, I did not,” The Lord of the Heavens said calmly, as The Lord of Time began to slowly back away from his brother.

As soon as the Lord of the Heavens had finished speaking, bolts of lightning rained down from the stormy sky, striking the blade in the Lord of the Nether’s body repeatedly. Causing his nerves to fire off, he jerked violently in his seat, the lightning continuing to relentlessly strike the end of the blade until The Lord of Nethers finally collapsed onto the ground in a burnt smoking heap.

“Begon,” the lord of the Heavens said, waving his hoof in the air, causing the Lord of the Nether to vanish.

“Where will The Lord of the Nether be imprisoned?” The Lord of Time asked, staring down at the puddle of black blood.

“With the stags, under the great tree,” the Lord of the Heavens replied casually, acting as if it was nothing of

importance. ”Now, I do believe we’ve given Death enough time to settle into the nether. Time to name his and the guardian’s predecessors...”