Hatred and abhorrence, love and passion; our world is filled with those who seek to appease their appetite for the extremes. One finds that emotions could be the whip that drives the charger, the fire that overcomes the ancient forest. When two souls meet who are of opposite extremes, all that we know is thrown into a realm of uncertainty. Yet, it is the uncertainty of life that makes it worth living. It is said that those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it, but what if the past is hidden behind an unmovable object? So much of life is held in our past; it is no wonder at all why most people choose to remain living in it. However, what of those who can never look back? A timid creature, a gentle spirit, toed the border between the Grove and the Gardens, shaking violently as sounds never heard and scents never detected reached her with the fierceness of a summer storm. Perched above her, a linnet stared from a lofty branch as her sides heaved in her discomfort and fear. She was like a child fresh from the womb, but there was no mother or friend to wipe the obstruction from her eyes. She was frightened. She was shaken. She was terribly alone. There were no recent memories or even flashes of the distant past. Everything that she might have known had disappeared and everything that she might have been was lost. As her amber eyes studied the height of the trees around her and her skin felt the prickling associated with the presence of magic, she groaned quietly, revealing her fear to the world. A trained warrior makes use of his enemies for our enemies bring out the true weaknesses within us, but Ayumi was no trained warrior. While the stronger would have found value in the assessments of those who stalk in the night, Ayumi was just a dead leaf clinging to a branch. A strong wind would send her falling.
It was the return of childhood fears. It was the sudden awareness that one still thinks about that monster under the bed. Even in the lingering sunlight left behind by the previous summer, the dusk that follows him becomes his procession. The trees and grasses bow not with Altus’ breath, but in reverence toward an undefeated champion and a beast of unthinkable capabilities. The hush that he caused could only be compared to the final breath of the slaughtered victim, the sudden gasp followed by the heavy silence. Death walked with him, running his fingers through that fiery mane and whispering into his ear like a loving mentor. He was the hawk with the searching eye and she was the dove wounded on the jagged barbed wire. It did not matter whether or not she struggled to flee because the end result would be a more angered assaulter and a more injured victim. As he approached, she twitched and squirmed, only allowing the barbs of his planned attack to burrow themselves deeper into her wings. She screamed, but no one came to her aid for he was the enemy and he had found her ultimate flaw. She was terribly alone. The Sinner approached steadily, fully aware of his power’s dauntingly superiority to her own and confident in the fact that she could not escape him. Yes, she shared a similar heritage, but her fragile nature and physique only told him that she would bend easily to his will, that he could do this and still make it back to the Isles before dusk. After all, he was sure that Rapier had missed his charming qualities. She tumbled, helplessly throwing herself in an attempt to be freed from the grip of the trees, trees that were controlled by Gobardon’s influence. When the branch broke and she turned to run, the Earth rose, sending her plummeting and her legs thrown over her head. She was crying. She was terrified, but he continued to march in his slow, arrogant fashion. He could tell that this struggle was wearing her down and her heaving sides were coated with sweat even though the autumn air was cold. Another boulder rose and she fell toward the ground, exhaling loudly as her body could not lift her again. Her wide eyes reflected the dark shape of him as he neared her and her opened mouth lacked the strength to call again for help. Nothing could save her. The world was littered with Gobardon’s children. One more would make little difference.
The world cannot be divided into Light and Dark, not perfectly. Just as the world cannot exist with the perfect society because no one is perfect. The Silver Lakes and Isles of Despair stand equally against each other, swore to fight ever since Ronin betrayed Flame, but there are those who betray their very nature. There are some who refuse to even fit into societies bent on war. The King of the male rogues, the passionate Rajputs, Mocking Call stood silently as his mind ran over the relationship between himself and the ex-Valkyrie, Ankh. He often thought of her previous loyalty to a Valkyrie Queen, the spitfire SIrenne who had disappeared in a swirl of hurricane. It is said that a cheater will cheat again, but could this apply to someone who abandoned their people? How could someone who despised men in one realm become their greatest ally in another? The questions kept his mind working like the unrelenting cogs of a machine. He needed an output. He needed a release. A King of the Rajputs was not exactly against the presence of women. Rajputs were still male and they required a nice roll-around every now and again, especially when their temper mounted. Temper was something that he shared with the previous King, Gobardon. Actually, they had so much in common. Both were Rajput Kings. Both had the Stone of Amethyst. And both had picked the same victim. Ayumi did not like to think about Maugrim, the child conceived during The Sinner’s attack. She did not like to revisit that part of her past or think about the beast that had tamed something that was gentle. Weary and utterly alone, she stood with her back to the wind and her head bowed as if admitting defeat to the world. The voice had left her. The voice had betrayed her. Ayumi…stand up… Who are you?! Where am I?! WHO AM I?! Ayumi, calm down. This is your home. What happened to me? What…why? There is too much to explain right now, but I will explain it later. Please…why am I here? It had been a long conversation and an even longer night. For hours, Ayumi could not cope with the fact that The Whisperer had not a body, but just a voice. After the shock of hearing voices wore off, Ayumi listened as The Whisperer told her about Hoof Prince and that Ayumi had once lived there…a long time ago. Her former memory was gone and so was The Whisperer. Ayumi had the feeling that she was being watched, but would not recognize The Whisperer even if it did appear. In fact, she would not recognize anything if she was to see it. She knew that those trees over there would not harm her, for they never moved in the forest (except when the wind blew, but Ayumi realized that the wind was gentle as well). Rocks were nice fellows as long as one did not kick them up toward the belly when running. Fish…those comrades of the waters…they seemed friendly enough. Yes, this world seemed quite serene. Those trees, these grasses, that horse over there… Why did The Whisperer allow her to approach Gobardon? Why did The Whisperer suddenly disappear, leaving her to the wolves? Why was The Whisperer not here now….when another horse approached! A spat with the Isles Queen had filled him completely with rage. There was nothing left in him to calm his hostile spirits. When he saw Ayumi, he saw a quick release. When Ayumi saw him, she saw another terrible memory. She named her Exposed.
Onyx-painted eyes watched the sunrise silently, darting even though that she was the enemy. Unlike her sisters who lived in the Ridges, the Queen of the Valkyries preferred the life of a diplomat. She adored her warriors, but the world of language seemed to welcome her more. She never imagined what strength it took to be a diplomat. You need to work together…you need…to kill…someone. She shook her head as the words returned to her. A resident of the Vistas… Her skin stiffened as goosebumps rose stubbornly from the presence of her discomfort. Ayumi A fallen tree branch startled her as she turned quickly and ran toward the heart of her jungle. The world was falling to chaos. Rapier’s influence grew with the chill of this autumn, rumors of a returning Gobardon plagued the night, and the birth of monsters became daily news. As an ally of the Dark Queen, Seduction considered herself lucky because her kingdom would not be a target, but she could not be certain that Rapier’s greed for power might make her home look appetizing. When she went to Tazewell, she sought only to strengthen herself for the sake of her kingdom. She could not rely on the Isles’ power because that power might one day be used against her. All that it would take would be an accidental steal or a misheard word. Her kingdom could go to war and she needed to be prepared. She hated it. She would never understand these warriors. She did not appreciate Tazewell’s mission nor did she enjoy sneaking through the night in order to plan Ayumi’s murder with Taj, the Duke of the Silver Lakes. In these times, enemies became friends and she had to realize that, one day soon, she would have to send one of her warriors against Taj. She refused to get attached. This proved difficult. We cannot let them know, Seduction, he had said, even though his thoughts lingered on Ophelia. I know this, Taj. That is why we need to do this quickly. Silence overcame him and his eyes darted to the crescent moon that could have betrayed their presence. I am going to hate hating you. His voice was hoarse. He stunned her. He floored her, but she found that she could not lash out at him. I do not think that I will hate you. There were some things that just made you closer to someone. Helping each other save each other was one of them. Another shake of her head and Taj was gone. Instead, thoughts of Ayumi flooded her mind. Ayumi…the quiet one..the timid one. She could not understand why Tazewell had chosen her, but she knew that she could not ever slaughter a fellow Valkyrie. So…she found an angle. Dear sister Ayumi. You have been here for quite some time so you must know of our rift with the Rajputs. Yet there you stand, carrying the King’s child. You should be ashamed and I will certainly not allow Mocking Call’s child to reside here. One of his children is quite enough, not to mention the fact that he dare violate one of our sisters or the fact that you allowed it. Ayumi, you are not longer welcome among our number. EXILE has befallen you. It did not solver her guilt, but it did make things better. She would cast out the pregnant Ayumi and hope that she could carry out the rest of her plan.
The Vistas, a place protected by the eye of Brighton and inhabited by those who do not wish to live with others or those who are rejected by the rest of the world. The amniotic fluid still coated her legs and her foal was somewhere in the wilderness between the Valkyries kingdom and the common grounds of the Vistas. She could not look into the eyes of her daughter. She could not bring herself to care for the child. Exposed represented the only memories that she had, memories that were better left in the past, but she could not get rid of them. She had no other memories to take their place. The leaves were falling in a crimson rain and the wind played with her flaxen mane; Ayumi tried to see the beauty in the world, but the world had only provided her with pain and fear. She still could not understand why she was here or why she could not remember herself. All that she knew was that she had lost the only home that she had ever known, the kingdom of the Valkyries. Where Ayumi’s heart was battered, Labyrinth’s heart beat with a supply of affection from her leader, The Game. As the coal-stained beauty walked through the Vistas, her voice was that of a siren. All was attracted to her because her happiness was addicting. This mare did not fit the mold of a typical Southern resident. Love had changed her. As a Spirit of Altus, Labyrinth’s strength with Air had grown impressively. She played with the leaves that covered the sodden ground and caused the trees to whisper as they moved. She even laughed as her Air power played with the mane of a stranger. But her smile faded quickly upon seeing this beaten palomino and her nostrils flared as she smelled the strong scent of a recent birth. Tossing her head, she took a step backward, almost frightened by the pure defeat that made Ayumi’s eyes appear so sunken. She had never seen such a creature and could not help but approach her. Death would not come to her, though she prayed to this…was Elyria her name?...as hard as she could. She could not imagine herself living for thirty years in such a dismal place and did not want to meet another one of those beasts. When Labyrinth approached her, Ayumi started. She screamed and bared her teeth even though she knew that this black stranger would easily defeat her. Miss, you need not to fear me. Please. Words of treachery. The Whisperer had appeared kind at first. Miss, please. I am Labyrinth. I want to help you. Please, you seem hurt. So, you wish to hurt me more? Ayumi said as she backed away, her back tensing with her anger. No…I wish to help you. I can take you to a safe place. There is no safety here….Lab-er-rinth Labyrinth, honey. No, I know a place where you can go. They will welcome you there. Please. The ebony vixen stood so elegantly in the weak sunlight while Ayumi appeared to be a girl without a touch of refinement. Labyrinth had always been more of a kingdom horse, but felt at home with the herds. She knew that helping Ayumi would be betraying the Queen of the South, but she could not imagine Ayumi being safe under the eye of Rapier. There is a kingdom here where the water is sweet. A few days there might make you stronger. It is a kingdom of Light and everyone is very kind. They will take care of you. They will try to Heal you. Does that sound okay, honey? Just, tell me your name. Was it really her name? She could never know, but this rare kindness caught Ayumi off guard. She could not consider whether or not she was lying. For the first time, trust was blossoming in her. My name is Ayumi…..Labyrinth.
I know your secret. Labyrinth stood in disbelief as the black Andalusian appeared from the dying bushes, towering above her own Arabian form. How… Shadow Puppet laughed, You are brave to go against the wishes of Rapier. She shook her head. The shock of it all seemed to drain her mind of possible explanations. Please. She cannot know. Ayumi…she was lost…she was homeless. I had to help her. Please understand that - You worry too much, Shadow Puppet interrupted as a laugh escaped him. You forget where I reside. I have no intention in bringing you harm. Then, what do you want? she said aggressively as her petite body became menacing for its size. Why must you play games? This is no time for that. They were so much alike. She had The Game and he had Insomnia. Some would say that Labyrinth was claimed by the wrong side, but deep down, Shadow Puppet knew that everyone was similar. She just needed to see it. I will not tell Rapier about you helping Ayumi, he said. Nor will I tell her about your little meeting today in the Vistas. All that you have to do is one thing. And, what’s that? Never go against the Distant Peaks. You have the heart of your leader. Make sure that his heart does not turn cold toward me. I cannot control that. Do you know how quickly a rumor flies? Fine, I will try!
The sun never set at the Temple of Galadriel and never did the wind expose one’s skin to the chill. Upon entering, the cares and burdens of the mortal world was suddenly lifted and Time itself seemed to stop long enough for the weary to breathe in deeply, to relax after a long journey. Ayumi’s amber eyes studied the intricate designs on the Temple wall as Labyrinth paced the Temple, her agitation foreign in a place where serenity reigned. This is frustrating, Ayumi, Labyrinth said as her eyes darted from the Temple entrance to the shrine to the gentle sunbeams that seemed to stroke the marble floors. Do not get discouraged, but I am a follower of Altus. I am not quite certain how to summon Galadriel. Ayumi turned slowly toward Labyrinth and smiled warmly, You can do it, Labyrinth. I trust you. It was difficult to remain so distraught when you had someone who believed so much in you. Throughout the entire journey, Ayumi had been incredibly supportive. Even when Labyrinth was unsure of the Light Temple’s location, Ayumi had laughed to say that being lost was a marvelous adventure. With the world falling into chaos, it felt good to have someone like Ayumi believing in you. I will summon her, Labyrinth said confidently. Soon, you will have your memories. Ayumi laughed, And I will not forget you!
Ayumi! Ayumi, wake up! She will not wake up, came a piercingly compelling voice from the opposite side of the inner Temple. She should have never even existed. Labyrinth stopped, tears streaking her face as she searched for the owner of the voice. You…you did this? You killed her?! Who are you?! Show yourself. I swear that if I have to find you, I will kill you. She did nothing! She was so innocent! She-- She was nothing, the voice interrupted as a horse-like shadow moved at the end of the Temple. And do not blame me for this. I did nothing. I was the victim. Labyrinth’s rage began to grow. She began to walk toward the figure, her anger making her body move in an odd fashion. She seemed to be between two worlds. None of this seemed real, so this murder would not seem real either. Calm yourself. How can I?! Labyrinth screamed, more tears covering her cheeks. She just wanted a friend. She just wanted her memories. Why… She got her memories, Labyrinth. No! She’s dead! She… Labyrinth stopped, taking an involuntary step backward. How….how do you know my name? I know you. You know me. You will see that I am not an enemy. The horse stepped closer, the Light shining upon her chocolate coat and her flaxen mane falling into her eyes. This Rocky Mountain Horse was a dark version of the dead Ayumi at her feet. You are my friend. Ayumi?, Labyrinth asked as the Light reflected off her tears. That is not my name. I am Rurutia and I have some work to do.
The Ivory Queen stood on a platform of marble, utterly perplexed at the sight of the lifeless form before her and shaking quietly, a sister to all Valkyries, a mother to all female warriors. Her skin was tight, not accustomed to the cooler environment that existed beyond the reaches of the Valkyrie jungle, and her face was blank as her eyes studied the mass of horseflesh at her feet. Ayumi was dead and she did not cause it. Her perfect lips parted slightly as she nickered, hoping and dreading that the sound of Ayumi’s breathing would return, that she was only cold because autumn had fallen upon the Temple of Light. But she had no such luck. This was the night that Tazewell would seek her out and ask her about her progress in his mission to destroy something that was incapable of harming another, a mission given to kill something that refused to kill. She was at a loss on what to say when the stallion of electricity swooped down upon her with all of his might. Her eyes searched for Taj, but his bay splashed form was nowhere to be found. So…someone beat you to the punch... She stiffened, her ears revolving slowly to listen to a voice that radiated seemingly from the very air. A static smell caused her nostrils to flare to pinks and tiny hairs began to fly away from her mane. A failed mission…a disrespectful action… Her head dropped as she struggled in her mind to find words, but what could she say that would appease the fury of a god gone mad? I have done no wrong here, Tazewell, she said, her voice surprisingly strong for her situation. Ayumi is dead, just like you wanted. He was suddenly upon her and she involuntarily took a step backward as his spotted face was pressed against hers and his breath threatened to take hers away, By whose hand?!!! Who killed Ayumi?! Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she responded, She’s dead…just like… I told you to kill her…dearest Seduction….you and…him….Taj…you two were supposed to kill her! Where are her marks? She has not a scratch or bruise! WHERE IS HER BLOOD?!! There will be no blood! Silence filled the Temple of Light as Tazewell realized that the bold, yelling voice was not that of the Queen that he held in his clutches. Turning slowly away from her, his eyes fell upon Taj who stood firmly in the entrance with the sun upon his back. No……blood? Tazewell asked slowly. You were supposed…..to kill….yes….you were supposed to kill her… We did. Panic suddenly rose within Seduction as she realized that Taj was attempting to lie to a deity, something that could easily cost them their lives. It mattered not that they stood in the Temple that offered a Healing hand toward warriors and victims for she could not see the gentle Galadriel fighting off the madman that was Tazewell. You killed this mare? Tazewell asked, his voice betraying the doubt in him. This….mare? This one before me? You have killed her? Seduction stood behind Tazewell with her eyes pleading. No one lies to a deity. No one dares to face their wrath. If Taj was going to risk his life, that was fine, but hers was also at stake. Yes, Taj’s voice was smooth and his eyes blank. We killed Ayumi. Together. Her heart dropped as Tazewell’s laughter filled the Temple and the echoing of it nearly drove her mad. The spotted God paced, his mouth opened in a bellowing laugh and his back turning toward Taj, who stood rigid despite his circumstance. Suddenly, Tazewell whirled, bolts of lightning shooting toward the Temple walls as he got lover close to Taj. Killed her, you say? He smiled and suddenly licked the side of his face. There was no reason for that action. Tell me, Taj, how did you do it? She has not a mark on her. She appears perfectly healthy. She looks like life simply abandoned her. HOW?! Tazewell’s question was followed by silence and Seduction’s heart seemed to have dropped into her stomach. Fear kept her from moving or even thinking and her eyes stared at Taj as his met hers…with every bit of confidence and nerve. For some reason, her fear subsided slightly. We worked together, Taj began quietly. Tazewell laughed and clicked his teeth, tiny bolts flashing in his smile. Do tell me how. PLEASE! Tell me how. His mockery was as thick as the static around him. Taj exhaled and finally spoke, We chased her. Really now? Well, I chased her. Seduction was here…waiting for her. Tazewell nodded, feigning a thoughtful face, I follow you. Yes, yes. You chased her and she…died without a scratch? No, Taj said. I chased her in an effort to wear her down. She ran for miles before she collapsed here. And then she died without a scratch? I delivered the final blow, Seduction said suddenly, her voice oddly strong yet barely audible over the beating of her heart. Tazewell slowly turned toward her and she saw fear for the first time in Taj’s face. And how did you do this, my Queen? She swallowed and sighed, praying that this deity could not read thoughts. When she collapsed here, she was barely alive. She was weak and panting. While she attempted to regain her strength, I attacked. I sent just enough of a static charge to finish off her tired heart. I stopped it from beating. She will not roam again. The God’s eye twitched and he leg spontaneously went into a slight convulsion. He took a few steps away from the pair, turning his back toward them as he walked toward the back of the Temple. Taj and Seduction moved closer together, feeling that they might have a chance working together in the event that this monster would turn on them. The silence was overwhelming and neither of them even dared to exhale. You have completed your mission… Blue electricity arced below him as his thoughts continued to run faster than he could handle. His great head shook and his spotted body was filled with spasms. Suddenly, he reared and a roar-like scream filled the Temple and shook the very foundation. With a flash, he was gone and Seduction and Taj were left with their rewards. As they flexed their bodies, feeling their new strength, Seduction whispered as if fearing Tazewell’s prying ears, We lied, Taj. Do you have any idea how stupid that was? You are a Valkyrie, Taj spat as he began to descend down the Temple’s stairs. I am certain that you have grown accustomed to the craft. He seemed strained, but Seduction could not understand his hositilities. Valkyrie or not, no one can afford to go to war against a deity, she said, her voice rising in anger. Lying might be a craft but you are hardly a master. You must know when to lie and when to tell the truth. What are we to do if Tazewell discovers the truth? You never thought of that, did you? Do you actually think that you will be safe in YOUR kingdom? She laughed and, for a moment, she was an ivory version of Sirenne. Taj whirled on her, his eyes livid, MY kingdom? Like yours is anything to brag about. Sure, you will make a truce with the North only if Rapier does not find out. At least my kingdom has the courage to openly oppose her instead of being her stooge. She lunged toward him, but he stepped aside. They were not equals, but her anger made her deadly. You will never know what I face. You are just a Duke, a stooge of your monarchs. You are also a fake for you were once my friend and now you have turned enemy. I became your enemy when I discovered that you would rather pretend to be my ally instead of facing the main enemy. I am doing what is best for my people! Her voice echoed and It almost startled her. She could not believe that this was the same Taj that mourned over their divided loyalties, that promised to remember her after their mission had been completed. She could not help but feel a sense of loss. So this is it? she asked carefully. We are enemies again. That seems to be the case, he said deeply. She lowered her eyes, the sadness of this decision surprising her. She never really thought about how much she had cared about Taj, but she was a Valkyrie. Her life could not be influenced by a man. Then we shall meet again as enemies, she said, lifting her head bravely. And we shall not hold back. Why should we?, he said. They stared at each other for a few moments, waiting for the other to back down, but each was more stubborn than the other. When the silence became too much to bear, they parted, each going to their respected kingdoms. Each trying to think of someone else.
A single step starts a journey of a thousand miles. It is a phrase that motivates those who are faced with an overwhelmingly difficult task and has given strength to those who lack it. As the pair took their single steps, Labyrinth’s curiosity outweighed that nervousness that should have left her motionless. True, they were about to enter the Isles of Despair, but the coming sights of Apollyon and Rapier did not concern her. Instead, her continuing sideways glances at Rurutia not coming distracted Labyrinth, but got the attention of her companion. A journey of a thousands miles….the question was: How far had Rurutia already traveled? Craning your neck in such a fashion will only injure it, Rurutia said, her voice deeper and stronger than that of Ayumi. Labyrinth did not feel like herself. This questioning and almost innocent nature had left her many years before this journey. Rurutia saw this and laughed, tossing the silky black mane that Labyrinth used to know as the flaxen mane of a palomino. The sound of their steps was like a metronome and as they neared the throne of the Dark Queen, it became the only noise that filled the chilled air. Clouds of vapor formed in front of their mouths and hard bumps rose on their skin. The sun would never shine here for the sun was not welcomed. Rurutia? Though her voice was soft at the question, it seemed deafening as it lingered on the air longer than necessary. However, Rurutia did not start. She was almost the opposite of Ayumi. Yes, Labyrinth? The waters of the Angak Sea palely reflected the gentle, blue-tinged lines that covered Rurutia’s face as she turned toward Labyrinth. It was a haunting picture, seeing the once dead peer at another through the murky shroud associated with the Isles. They were two black beauties who shared a similar heritage. Most would mistake them as sisters until they saw the depth of Rurutia’s eyes. She was too old to have ever been nearly related to Labyrinth. Her hoof slipped on a moss-covered stone as they crossed the landbridge that connected the Isles to the rest of Hoof Prince. The sliding stones clunked loudly and, as if in response, a deep howling came from the forests of the Isles. Unhorselike, it started at the low growl before raising to a high-pitched scream that pierced the ears and stabbed the heart. It was an angry cry, a desperate cry; nothing on Earth could compare to it and it was this noise that greeted the pair as their hooves hit the soil of the Isles. Oh, Rurutia…, Labyrinth whispered as her dark eyes darted quickly from the various trees. This life has dealt me more cards that I would have ever possibly imagined possessing. Please tell me, what is death like? For a long while, Rurutia seemed to have not heard Labyrinth’s words. The younger female waited patiently while the larger, darker female kept her eyes locked to the forest. Like Labyrinth, her eyes moved, but not in the same fashion. They moved slower, studying the trees instead of merely looking. She seemed to understand this forest more than those who lived there. Finalley, she sighed, Who says that I ever lived? Come now and stay close. Whatever monster that made that sound is no friend of the Allies of Flame.
Labyrinth and Gasoline watched from the seats of the theatre, Rurutia was the heroine who crossed the stage. She was like Anne Boleyn accepting her fate; fear could not describe her. She moved with the grace of those who have moved on for she had been in that company not too long ago. Her silky mane flicked slightly with her steps and her Rocky Mountain body was hardy and strong; she was truly a beautiful female. The hush of the forest only made the sound of Gobardon’s presence more intimidating and no presence had quite a sound. When he walked, the Earth moved to his will. When he spoke, from the depths of the soil came an answering roar. When he slept, the ground became his night-time sentinels. No sun reflected off of his fiery pelt, but the vibrant color still showed even in this dim environment. Each muscle moved perfectly as if instructed by dance professionals. Like her, he was beautiful. His inner hideousness made him infamous. More of his blood roamed Hoof Prince than the lines of any other stallion in history. Most of his partners had been taken by force and most of his enemies broken by that same force. Raw power radiated from him and it was common knowledge that mercy did not exist in his heart. Labyrinth and Gasoline tensed as the Sinner’s dark eyes left his meal and fell upon the body of Rurutia. The two audience members expected the Sinner to casually chew on his mouthful of food, to slowly smirk, and to ultimately, make a move on such a tasty treat for the eyes. They expected him to mock her, to try to get a fight out of her so that he would have an excuse to do some heavy damage. Gobardon was known for his mouth. He liked to cause trouble. Surely, he would pick on this mare. Surely, he would renew some of those long-forgotten differences. Rurutia?, came his voice gently. Shock kept Labyrinth and Gasoline still. The voice that came from Gobardon did not seem like his voice at all. There was nothing sinister or sardonic in its tone and his body language had changed with his intonation. His guard was down and the Earth was silent. Rurutia.., his voice was a whisper. Oh God…Rurutia… Where Gobardon had became weak, Rurutia seemed to have gained strength. As the Sinner was lost for words for the first time in recent history, Rurutia’s voice cut through the moment with a cold slice, Gobardon. It seems like you have not changed. The next part of the conversation was lost to her memory for Labyrinth became suddenly distracted by a groan from Gasoline. As she made to hush him, fear paralyzed her. His eyes had rolled to whites and his body was slowly sinking to the Earth. Like a possessed victim, he groaned again as a violent shiver shook his tiny body. Gasoline!, she whispered urgently. What is going on? As her nose touched his cheek, the trees blurred around them. Sunlight pierced their eyes painfully for they had grown accustomed to the darkness of the Isles. The songs of birds was earsplitting as Labyrinth realized that they were standing, once again, in the bushes as if hiding. How? Labyrinth turned to Gasoline’s voice and saw that the Fell Pony was standing quietly, apparently unharmed and unmoved by his violent spell in the Isles. Gasoline! What happened? You went all funny and then you teleported us! He shook his head, I did not teleport us. I have never been here. This is the Silver Lakes, Gasoline. Why would you take us here if you have never been here? I did not take us here! The sound of a coming horse stopped their conversation and both of them moved closer as a young, crimson stallion seemed to be walking through the forest, attempting to keep his presence secret. Nearby, they noticed a huge black Friesian grazing peacefully, his tail occasionally flicking as those bothersome six-legged pests. He seemed to be ignorant of the younger stallion’s presence and the younger stallion kept his ears twisted to the older male’s direction. There was something about the young stallion that seemed familiar, but Labyrinth could not place it. His legs were lengthy and, by his build, he suggested strength that would come in the next year or two. His eyes were dark and his strides seemed to blend perfectly with the Earth, as if friends with it. It suddenly dawned on her; they were looking at a younger version of Gobardon. Gasoline! she whispered urgently. You have taken us into their memories! The tip of his nose twitched and his eyes took in his surroundings. There was nothing to suggest truth in her statement for the image was very vibrant, but when he looked toward the distant mountains, he saw it. Parts of the mountains blurred and jumped, like a film roll with tears. This was a memory and, by the looks of the mountains, Gobardon’s age was causing it to fade. I cannot believe it… he said softly, his small, feminine body wishing to explore, but not wanting to be noticed. My power…it finally has become, well, powerful. It is the rarest Element, Labyrinth whispered. Of course, it is powerful. His ear twitched in agitation as he faced her. Really? So, when in battle, I can throw a waterball? I can numb the senses with Electricity? Oh! How about I split the Earth to make you fall into an abyss? There is nothing powerful about my gift….save for now. I know…I know what it can be used for. I can find out the secrets. I can know someone’s true weakness. I can bring anyone down if I can break into their mind. And…I can change the past. Labyrinth gasped, You mustn’t! You could destroy our world! The past happens for a reason. We cannot risk everything changing from what you think is best for Hoof Prince. The slightest difference could end up with all of us dead. You’re right, he said, though his eyes were still distant. That would be….irresponsible. Best not to argue with those who would never understand. She had not given birth unnaturally. A snapping of a stick, always the sound of an intruder, caused Labyrinth, Gasoline, and the black Friesian to look suddenly toward the creeping Gobardon. Within seconds, the black Friesian was shoving Gobardon from the forest and the young stallion was sent stumbling over his own limbs. Gobardon stood, shaking in his fright and anger as the dark giant stood before him. What are you doing here, Son of Fleshblade? The voice was deep and powerful. This was obviously a kingdom official. Duke Eclipse… The young, timid voice was nothing like the voice of the adult Gobardon. I…I was coming to see Flame. For guidance…I needed his guidance. A lying tongue is a dying tongue, Eclipse quoted one of the many verses for Hoof Prince lore. You know that your family is not welcomed here. My family sits on the throne! I am the great-grandson of the King! The injustice of his situation was written clearly on his young face. Eclipse shook his head, Any offspring from the line of Ronin has been exiled for the Northern kingdom. You have known this since birth. I was innocent at birth! As was Ronin, he said quietly, ignoring the tears that were beginning to flow down Gobardon’s face. I will escort you to the border. You do not have to return home, but you cannot stay here. Just let me talk to Flame…, Gobardon pleaded. I am not like my father or my grandfather. Let me study under Horatio! Eclipse shook his head, The Elder of the North has no time for the sinister plans of a fallen enemy. Get thee home. But… Come now!
Without her presence, Hoof Prince had missed a great part of its feminine quality. The absence of her lusciously curvy hips, bold eyes, and quick remarks had left a certain void that no other female could fill. The former Queen had been greatly missed and no one could deny this. She had been making her stately and seductive way through the Isles when a furiously sickening scream caused her to pause in her runway stroll and toss her graceful head casually toward the source of the noise. When it sounded again, she decided that this thing was either very power or very stupid. If powerful, she might find some entertainment in it. If not powerful, than the fool was betraying its presence to all of those bad boys and girls that roamed the Isles. A scowl made her dainty features ugly for a moment as she looked over her shoulder toward the cause of the sound. Something about it was unfamiliar, yet strangely recognizable.
Slowly, effortlessly…the lava flowed almost gently down the slopes of the Rajput volcano and quietly smothered the lives of all that it touched. Tiny simmering sounds and soft pops made its presence known as it began to cover the northern part of the Rajput kingdom. It would not continue for long; the kingdom was mostly safe. But the safe could not be said for the skies. Thick, blinding smoke billowed into the sky, choking the sun as it struggled to break through the smog that blanketed the western part of the world. It blanketed the Silia Mountains and plummeted like an avalanche of darkness down the slopes and past the Paseos, north of the Arbors…. …right into the Crossing. As the wind became bitterly cold and the sun hid its face, the world was turned onto its ear.
There was no moisture on his tongue to wet his parched lips nor was there anymore sweet to cool his sand-colored body, but the God of Fire preferred no other situation. He thrived when others felt misery. He smiled when the world frowned. He laughed when the mighty fell. And he had seen a great many fall. His environment was an outer display of the anger and torment that existed within. Flames rose and fell with his breathing, greedily licking the base and zeniths of the towering pillars of brimstone that created the semi-circle in which he stood. The soil here was never soil for it had never felt the yielding comfort of a good day’s rain. Instead, it formed clouds when the hooves scraped its surface and these clouds reached like grasping fingers to clutch at one’s breath. The Temple of Ruby was a miserable place for a miserable deity. The God of Fire had a one-tracked mind and that track led straight to the Temple of Sapphire where his enemies, the wielders of Water, gathered in order to give praise to their goddess, Courant. Kicking a mount of dusty soil, he cursed loudly as the cloud formed around him. From what the rumors had been saying, Courant’s Guardian had returned to Hoof Prince and Paduan knew that Sirenne was one of the most respected and fear equines in the world. Though his own Guardian still had quite a reputation, he could not help but feel bitter over the legacies of Rapier, Gobardon, and Sirenne. Cocksuckers, he mumbled to himself as the heat from his Temple blurred his vision and his hooves struck out toward the towering brimstone. All of them…cocksuckers.. His brow furrowed as a horse-like figure blended in with the bleak surroundings. The blurred image disappeared and reappeared in uneven intervals, causing the deity to stop his ravings long enough to take a concentrated look at the figure. If you ask for one favor, I will melt your head to your ass, he yelled at the approaching figure, but the figure continued toward him in a steady march. It seemed unnerved by the demands of an immortal. I mean it, bitch, he said, not quite certain if the figure was female, but very certain that he did not care about offending anyone. I have better things to do than to be your therapist. The figure stopped and stared silently at Paduan, still not saying a word. Paduan gritted his teeth, annoyed with the disturbance for he would have much rather continued in his paced musings. I want your name, residence, and time that you sleep so that I can personally fuck you up in your sleep. Still the figure said nothing. Paduan moved closer, the air around him becoming hotter. I mean it. Get out of my sight. Your ass is brass. The figure said nothing. Don’t make me-, but Paduan never finished his threat for, at that very moment, a vibrant blue beam shot from the strange figure and struck him dead center on his chest. His eyes widened in surprise as the blue began to cover his body, freezing him where he stood. His mouth moved in silence as the ice stopped his heart and any onlooker would have sworn that Courant’s name was on his lips.
If I fight you, I would die a monster, she said softly as her gentle eyes stared at her Temple and the enchanted forest that surrounded it. How often had she stood in this very spot and not gazed at her surroundings as she was doing now? How many times did she pass this view by and not appreciate its beauty? How many times did she forget the tranquility of her Temple? How many seconds did she have left to see it? Life was so precious and immortal life was even more precious for to kill something that could live forever robbed someone of an eternity. As the air entered her lungs, she felt it expand within her for the first time ever. She saw the miracle that she had once neglected. Her life was a gift and she had wasted it. Never had she encountered one of her followers. Never had she even attempted to right the wrongs of this world. And now, she would never get the chance. Her enemy stood behind her; she knew its presence long before its form came into view. She heard its breath even as her heart’s beat began to pound in her ears. What do you expect to gain from this? What do you expect to become? This is not the way to become the God of Opal. Her painted sides heaved as her fear mounted. She had not expected this, not now. She felt so foolish. No preparations were made. No foals bore her blood. She would be forgotten. She would be wiped from history. All that it would take to erase her would be a simple attack from the horse behind her. I am ready, she lied as her head lifted and tears flowed down her cheeks. Her breathing came faster. The sun was warm on her face and not a cloud could be seen. The only form that interrupted the perfection of the blue sky was the linnet that flew above her. A linnet that seemed to be watching her. Wait!, she yelled, but her words were lost to a sea of ice. The Light of her Temple had finally been extinguished.
The frayed ends of his sanity and mane stood on end as pools of electricity circled slowly as his hooves. Steadily, fluidly, the dark golden hair-like structure of the bolts seemed to be danced peacefully; they seemed to be much more innocent and docile than that of their intended purpose. Every now and again, parts of the beams would glow suddenly and then fade. It was a beautiful interaction, this waltz, but the danger within was equal to that of the deity that controled it. A stitch in his eye worked without any sign to refraining from its constant twitch. The static smell normally made his nostrils close, but something in the smell tonight caused them to flash pink and his lungs to expand his chest. He was trying to detect something...something that was here but did not belong here. He coughed but no sickness raked his body. A shiver sent ripples through his pelt, but no fear existed in him. Tazewell did not feel the normal emotions of an equine. Some say that he really did not feel anything at all. He was the typical psychopath. The....crow...paints...the...boulder..., he said to himself, but not really to himself. It seemed as if nothing in him made sense. The events that took place centuries before had left their mark on his mind and personality. He was unpredictable, dangerous. He was different from the rest of the deities. Silly Natie doesn't dance on Sundays, he said again as he sent a spiraling bolt of lightning toward a tree that had been hit too many times to even be thought of as still living. Adelaide sings rock songs to the choir, his voice blended with the static noise that seemed to follow him. He kept walking, kept shooting bolts, ignoring the figure that followed him. Gobardon preaches sin to the sinners while they play harmonicas on Ayumi's body. FLASH! An old tree turned to ash and fell to the ground and still the figure followed. A red Queen from a distant land....oh, did she ever sleep with the leopard? He stopped, his eyes continuing to twitch as the figure closed in behind him and a bluish glow made him body form a shadow in front of him. He stared at the glow as his feet, fully aware of the danger behind him, but not bothering to take action. He turned toward the figure, a smile on his face and his eyes mad. Laughter rang from him as he finished his song, Good morning, Poison Ivy, I think that Batman owes you money Shhh....don't tell the blind man that you stole his wallet Silver and gold, darkness and wrath Flowers look pretty on a coffin Capone, Lively, Gasoline Rapier, Siron, Sirenne! Aprodite is a whore, you know Ask the President Happy birthday, ZOMG! I know what you did this summer. As the beam of ice hit his chest, he laughed. It was loud and boastful, it sounded beyond the Crossing and into the surrounding areas. Long after his form was still, it echoed. It continued as a shadow where a god once stood.
Clouds of vapor formed at her lips as great sobs shook her body. Tears formed on her cheeks only to become marble-like droplets as the cold air froze them. Her body quivered as her grief tightened its grip on her throat. She could not believe it. She would not believe it. But she was forced to believe. The body of Altus did not lay at her feet nor was it buried beneath the fallen pillars on his mountaintop Temple. It was as if a prize-winning sculptor had crafted this figure from the ice for the pose and expression was perfect. The beam of ice had struck him mid-leap and his immortal body held its perfect form. Giant wings, often given to those who perfect the Air Element, had sprouted from his back and great billows of wind had begun to spin around him as the ice took its hold. From the position, there was no way to tell if he had been fighting or fleeing. But he was the God of the Ridges. Her sobs continued and her lips parted to whisper to him as her warm body rubbed against the chill of the ice, but there was no sign of the ice melting. With all of her power, she urged the blood within him to flow again and she begged the ice to peel itself from his flesh, but it did not answer. In her state of mourning, she was powerless. Altus, Courant whispered to the nothingness that was now his Temple. I will find who did this. I will prove that I love you.
She walked with purpose, each step moving the moisture in the soil, causing the trees to scream as their very lifelines were being tortured. Her body ripped through the bushes and trees that gave each Temple its privacy for nothing could stop her from reaching her destination. She knew where the enemy would go for she had finally understood its intention. First, Fire was conquered, giving the deities no defense against an attack by Ice. Then, Light fell, covering the Earth in Darkness so that the sun itself could not warm them. Electricity was taken so that its charge could not counter the chill of the Ice. Finally, Air was taken so that no southern front could not end the cold. Water was next and she knew it. She could feel the Enemy strolling through her marble Temple, planning its takeover, but Courant had something that the other deities did not. She had the awareness of what was to come. A flick of her head lifted the last of the tears from her face and the moisture around her lips could only be from the rage that stirred within her. She was the calm rains during the spring. She was the quiet pond, but she was also the raging sea. There would be a confrontation and the Enemy had to expect it. After all, she was the Guardian of the Valkyries. Her sleek body burst through the thick plants of nightshade and thyme. Like blue bolts of electricity, the light bounced off of the numerous reflecting pools and cast their marks on the Temple. The roar of the center waterfall did not distract her for she heard the distinctive sound of hooves on stone. She saw a horse-like shadow make its way around the inner sanctum of her Temple. Suddenly, the flowing reflections of the pools stopped...unnaturally...and the center waterfall's roar became a clunking noise as it was frozen and the air itself seemed to be sucked from the clearing. The hush was deafening and Courant's body tensed as she saw the figure disappear. The seconds ticked by...slowly...painfully....she listened to her liquid sisters, but nothing sounded like blood. What was once there seemed to have completely vanished. Lucky for Courant, the Enemy's hooves crunched the frozen grasses behind her. Courant suddenly jumped from the sound, narrowly missing the beam of ice that caught part of her mane, making it heavy. As her body fell toward the ground, it broke into many droplets of water, falling like rain into the reflecting pools. The pools boiled angrily, but then were still. The Enemy paced along the pathways, its irritation apparent and its eyes focused on the pools below, but the Waters never gave their Queen away. As always, they hid her secrets well. With a roar, a wall of water rose behind the Enemy, forming the mouth of a leopard and attempting to bite into the Enemy's flesh, but the Enemy was quick, freezing the water as it fell. Courant jumped from the waters and dodged a beam as her pools were turned solid. Sweat appeared at her brow, which she turned to knife-like ice that soared toward the Enemy, but the figure dodged them completely. Courant backed against the Temple wall, panting and surprised that such a stranger had such a mastery of her own Element. You...belong....to....the Earth, she said between her breaths as the Enemy closed in, but the figure refused to show mercy. A blue glow began to show at its mouth when suddenly, one of the walls of ice came crashing down upon it. The Goddess of Water looked for the source of the power for she had not caused the attack, but a flash of a blood-painted coat answered her question immediately. Her Guardian had arrived.
The spray from the ice wall falling into one of the reflecting pools fell like a light, temporary rain as Courant's mouth opened and she straightened, now fully aware of the Enemy's skill. The rain continued to fall but a quick swipe of the goddess' head and all was still. The Enemy was gone and only the Deity and her Guardian remained. For the first time, no sarcastic smile was crawling slowly across Sirenne's face. Her eyes were darting, every muscle tense to react at the slightest movement, but the Enemy was cunning. It would wait. The water in the pools splashed loudly, perfectly reflecting the uneasiness of their Goddess, but to see Courant would suggest something else. A certain calm was in her features and as her sleek body moved like liquid through the night, Sirenne watched silently. For once, both Goddess and Guardian were equal. "This is a great surprise to me," Sirenne said as her eyes studied the graces of the waters. "The Enemy seemed greedy for power, but this..." "The Enemy is a creature of the Earth!" Courant returned as her lungs began to feel the icy chill of the coming winter. "This makes perfect sense." If the Red Lady would have had eyebrows, one would have been raised in response to the Water Goddess' statement. "Oh, really?" Sirenne said with a note of sarcasm in her voice. "So it makes perfect sense that a creature of the Earth would freeze the very thing that gives that creature power?" Courant nodded, "Of course." "You are off your rocker, woman," Sirenne said, turning her back from the Goddess. "Without the Deities, the Earth will fall to chaos. Look at what is happening already. Why would a creature of the Earth want to freeze the Earth when that creature relies on the Earth? It makes no sense." Courant sighed, "Sirenne....what happens if I die?" "You won't die." "What happens if I do?" It suddenly dawned on her and Sirenne turned toward Courant suddenly, "Solaris takes the place of Paduan...there is no Deity of Light...there is no Deity of Air...Taj takes the place of Tazewell...there is no Deity of Water...Gasoline is the Deity of Psychic and...." Her eyes widened. "And?" Courant prompted. "Gobardon and Rapier become Gods." An unearthly scream shattered the silence of the night as an ice beam arched across the sanctum and spiraled toward the pair, but only one was affected. Realizing the fate of the deities, the white, perfect body of Courant stepped to block Sirenne from the attack. There was a sickening pop as her body froze and fell to the dewy ground. Water had fallen.
"I expected you," said the voice to the empty Temple. Shredded, black tapestries stood still, unable to move while the God of Air no longer breathed. This world of Hoof Prince was not the world that they knew. Without Courant, Galadriel, and Altus, the world was a dismal place with no sun to warm the face, no water to fall, and no wind to ease the wounds. Rencor's Temple was no affected for this was its normal environment. "It is a shame that your talents were wasted on the Earth," his voice slid as easily through the Temple as his shadow did on the onyx walls. The thin layer on dust on the floor was the only thing that betrayed his presence for his hoof prints revealed the path of the invisible God. "Great allies, we could have been. I would have helped to bring you to glory, greater glory than you have ever seen! I know that your blood has ruled most of the kingdoms, but just think...just think of our partnership..." His great form appeared, the second largest of the Gods, but there was no doubt in the amount of power that radiated from him. Though Tazewell once ushered the dead into the world beyond, it was Rencor who pulled the strings that ended their lives. He was cruel, he was manipulative. He would not fall without first trying to find a verbal advantage. "My Guardian...she is beyond anything imaginable. Just think of the power between you. Ruling...side by side...imagine it....'Enemy'." But the Enemy would not give in to temptation. Realizing this, Rencor smiled a wicked grin. "Have it your way then. Just promise that you will not make it too quick. I want to enjoy this."
There was not a long distance between the mind and body, the body and mind. When one was wounded, the other was greatly affected. The mind can tease the body, send seizures to the brain and cause the heart to skip even when the heart is perfectly, physically healthy. Mind over matter is not simply an idea by Mao Zedong; it is a truth to life. Her mind was frantic so her body soared. The reaching arms of the trees struck her, but her mind was ahead, searching through the dense forest for the God that controlled the very Earth. Blood fell down her coat, making the bay of it appear to be darker, more sinister. Her eyes kept rolling and foam poured from her mouth; she was a sickening sight. Something crashed behind her and her legs pumped with more ferocity. A strange gasping sound came from her usually placid and focused lips. There was nothing to her that suggested her wisdom and cunning, only that she was closing the distance between her and the one other being that meant more to her than her duty of the Gardens, Brighton. A tree fell to its death and Elyria screamed. Her head pumped like a working piston as the surroundings blurred around her and she felt her throat start to close. Tears streamed down her face. She would be too late. She would not be able to warn Brighton. She had no idea that Brighton already knew. The thudding of her hooves became more shrill as the ground below her became frozen and instantly, she was sent careening into the thick underbrush just as it turned into a very solid group of thorns. She screamed. Panting, Sirenne heard the cry and her exhausted body was stretched to its last limit as she chased the thing that brought down the Temple of Water. The frozen branches crumbling but some of them managed to tear into her soft flesh, but she kept moving. By the time she found Elyria, the light had dimmed in the eyes.
“SAIYA!!!!,” she screamed a curse that had only been whispered in the Times of Old and she could not even begin to understand why such a word left her lips. It seemed as if the very air around her become thicker, as if pulsing with an unfamiliar power. This was the land that was forgotten, the land that housed the deadliest of equine. The Land of the Ancients was brought to life by a traitor. At the clearing of the Temple of Earth, Sirenne paused long enough to take in the surroundings. It was beautiful. A tall, aging, yet youthful oak tree had forced its branches into the gray marble of the Temple while vines and birds crafted a new roof after the old stone one had fallen ages ago. The flowers seemed to not just move but breathe and the songs of the birds made one’s chest actually lift in pleasure. It was a world untouched by the chaos that the Enemy had created but it was a world in danger and there stood Brighton, the master of soil that nourished and the creatures that roamed. His body was unmovable, like the very Earth itself, but his eyes….his eyes contained a thousand sunsets and the peace that made them glow warm even the coldest ice of the Ancients. “Brighton,” Sirenne breathed. Even though she had never met him (and after Gobardon, who could blame her?), she could clearly recognize that this beautiful creature held great power. She did not jump when his linnet dipped in its flight above her head and landed on Brighton’s left shoulder. “My word,” came Brighton’s distinctive soft voice. “You have seen better days, Sirenne of the South.” His calm demeanor was almost irritating, but Sirenne shook off her negative feelings. Her inner Valkyrie was cast aside as she tried for the first time in her life to reason with a male. “I have seen the Enemy,” Sirenne said through her breaths. “It is coming for you. We must get you out of here or the entire world will fall.” “Run away from our problems?” A smile was in his eyes. “My, this does not sound like our beloved Sirenne.” She almost growled in her frustration. “Fine! Let us fight this! Step down from your pedestal and stop meditating! We have a world to save and you are my last hope.” Brighton smiled and looked toward the horizon where it was always sunrise in his Temple. “Do you know why, through winter, we still fight to survive?” “There is not time for this, Brighton! I can feel the Enemy’s anger!” He continued as softly as ever as his butterfly tickled the neck of his linnet and kissed his cheeks with its wings, “Winter is so harsh. It is so dark. The chill is more than we can stand, but we still do not fall. Why? It is so easy to give in, but we work to survive. Why is this, Sirenne?” He turned toward her and his green eyes glowed, the reflection of the Hoof Prince of Old Lore in his eyes, “It is because we know that spring will come.” An ice beam broke the silence and struck the butterfly as it tried to escape. Flicking his head forcefully, the Earth sucked away the butterfly and a cave surrounded Sirenne. The Earth moved loudly and a few columns in the Temple fell. Sirenne and the butterfly were hidden from sight. “But still,” he said deeply, a voice completely different from his normal tone, “we must fight to survive.”
The air became frigid and his breath turned to vapor as beams continued as the Enemy came near. The linnet cried and flew about as Brighton’s eyes glowed in a way that was anything but serene. “Fly to the North and hide in the willows,” he said as a wind whipped his mane to the side and his voice was raised over the coming storm. “You will be needed there.” The linnet obeyed, as always. He closed his eyes and bent his head to the icy wind, his teeth bared as bits of ice tore at his flesh, but he did not move. Nothing would move him for he was the Earth. When the winds died and his eyes opened, he fought hard to not gasp at the sight. His Temple, his lost paradise, had been taken brutally by the storm. The wind had blown the leaves from the trees and ice had stuck itself like daggers into the flesh of the now aging oak. Shards of ice stood horizontally where the wind made the waters freeze. Everything was destroyed, including the roof of his beloved sanctuary and the sun was gone. He made to move forward but his hoof scraped something before him. Looking down, part of him died. A family of rabbits had died. “Always the innocent,” he whispered, completely aware of the Enemy who stood before him, ready to end everything. “You sob for a lesser species, Brighton?,” came the voice of the Enemy, a dark and sinister sound that made the ears flattened and the stomach turn in anxiousness. “I sob for your pain,” Brighton said softly, still not facing the Enemy. “It must have been so difficult for you….to destroy the very Earth that gives you power….to kill those who were not against you….for what? For glory?” “There are better things in life than just flowers and sunrises, you old hippie. And who are you to talk? A few hundred years ago, you were in my position. You brought the world chaos. You killed the innocent.” “And yet,” his voice was soft again. He stared into the face of the mother rabbit, his eyes no longer glowing. “You have not learned from my mistake.” The Enemy laughed and its shrillness made the icicles hum at the sound. “Your mistake?! Oh, please! You are a God among mortals! You are a King among peasants!” “I am forever cursed to remember…” “Yes, Brighton! Remember your glory! You lived a good life. It is time to die!” Brighton’s head was lifted and his eyes glowed brightly in the dim light offered by the even darker heavens. A slight smirk was on his face and he looked so much like his mortal form, a form that conquered the Earth for himself. A warrior that killed without mercy. But it disappeared as quickly as it came and his face became warm again. At his feet, the rabbits began to twitch to life as his power grew with his confidence. “Have I ever told you about the man who had everything?” The Enemy clicked its teeth and shook its head, “Not now, Brighton. I want to end my quest for dominance in silence.” “There once was a man who had everything. He had the grandest kingdom.” “Brighton, you fool!” “The most beautiful partner” “Quiet!” Brighton spoke more quickly, his eyes darkening. “He had it all. He could want no more. He wanted to be envied above all others and, God, did they envy him. They snuck about. They tried to rob him, but in the end, they poisoned him into a long sleep. When he awoke, it was gone. Everything was gone. The man who had everything became the man who had nothing.” The Enemy smiled, “And who is the man who had nothing, Brighton?” The Earth shifted and the air glowed as ice began to form. “Well, my Enemy, that is where we end the story.”
The arena for the match was perfect. The air was frigid, but not too cold for the Enemy did not have complete control of the Earth. The ground was hard, yet absorbing. Numerous stones, large and small littered the clearing and the sky offered a bit of light from a dying sun. The still of the Temple made every movement both heard and felt. Any warrior would have wanted such conditions. But it was the Enemy and Brighton who met. They circled each other, each power pulsing as their eyes met and their jaws dropped, teeth bared as the tension rose. In the distance, Brighton’s linnet sounded as a warning to the world. The final battle between the Deities and the Enemy was about to take place. Make it known. The world was about the change but it was not yet clear on how. If Brighton won, he would survive as the Last of the Deities. If he lost, then the world lost with him. It was as if lightning suddenly become its Element. As quickly as the sky’s electricity, a beam of ice carved itself into a crystallized leopard, a terrifying beast that roared and sparkled as its razor teeth clicked like its master. It charged toward Brighton, leaving deep holes in the Earth’s surface as the weight of its body moved like a train. Almost gracefully, Brighton answered with a trick of his own. He seemed to melt, his body sinking into the Earth and he disappeared completely from view. The frozen leopard paced, confused and knowing that the Ice Spell would not last long enough for the leopard to search for the Earth Deity. The Earth opened and Brighton appeared, his body now completely made of the Earth. He dove toward the leopard, swimming through the stone as if it were water and crushing the ice animal to pieces. In response, the Enemy began to freeze the Earth, attempting to catch Brighton while he was a part of it, but Brighton was too fast. He melted into the Temple, becoming part of the marble. As the ice began to cover the Temple, Brighton stepped from the frozen forest, complete and flesh. Smiling, he reared and stomped down onto the ground. A large crack began to expand, crumbling part of the cave that hid Sirenne. It continued, lava pouring from the hole and beginning to melt the ice of the arena. While Brighton’s eyes were on Sirenne, the Enemy noticed the flaw in Brighton’s attack and an ice beam was sent toward the former Valkyrie Queen. Brighton ran, his hooves skimming the surface of the lava and his body forced himself to greater speed…needing to get there before the ice beam…needing to not allow another innocent to die!
He recognized the linnet immediately for it had been there during Edward’s many journeys to the Earth Temple. It spoke of something urgent, something beyond the control of mortals, but when it quieted and finally slept, Edward finally understood its meaning. The chill had tightened his skin to the point that it stretched and the air was so cold that it stabbed the back of his throat as he gasped for the sight before him was beyond what he had ever witnessed. Faster than natural, ice began to branch out and thicken over the surface of the seven bodies that made up the Silver Lakes. He stepped back at the shores of Marble Lake, the largest of the seven, and his mouth opened in shock as the lake become solid enough to support his weight. Shaking his head, he moved backwards toward the forest. It was autumn, but autumn was not supposed to freeze leaves midflight or kill the animals who were supposed to be readying for hibernation for the corpse of a frozen grizzly bear was the more terrifying of the sights. A rumble in the distance caught his attention and Edward closed his eyes it shook beneath his hooves. His body bent as he fought to stay standing and he prayed, oh did he pray, to his Deity, asking only for survival. As quickly as it came, it ended, and Edward slowly opened his eyes. The quiet of the night surprised him as the sun had disappeared and the moon was barely at a quarter. He looked toward the ground and his heart fell. He felt defeated. He saw the crystallized corpse of the butterfly. This is our story.
