Chapter Nineteen – Frostburn

Things in the Crystal Empire had not improved for Frostburn. Lacking a place to sleep the previous night, he had slept on a hard bench in a public park. Not a real smart move, because now his back was aching. Luckily he still had Rarity's cloak, or he would have been freezing. He was hungry too, but that feeling was not new to him.

Wandering aimlessly on the city streets, Frostburn felt more eyes locked on him. It seemed each pony was attempting to drill holes into his head by staring in his general direction. The blue pegasus felt like if one more set of eyes looked at him, he'd drill in the hole himself. Rounding a corner, he touched the stunted horn on the top of his head. It was something his mother had always done, claiming it brought her good fortune. He really needed some of that right about now.

The alluring scent of freshly baked bread caught his attention. Not far from him, a bakery sat, recently baked goods sitting in display. The pegasus felt his mouth water and heard his stomach growl. Wishing he could have bought some bread, Frostburn merely turned away and walked another direction.

You know you could always steal some. Part of him thought. It was a tempting idea, and his stomach argued in favor of it. No, stealing is wrong. You're better than that. Another part thought. He sighed inwardly, because he knew he really wasn't better than that. Frostburn thought back to all the times he taken food or money from other ponies just to get by. Then he got depressed as he realized that the list was longer that he would have liked. But food and bits didn't matter on the grand scale of things, lives did. And he had taken those too.

~Three Years ago~

He splashed through the rain soaked streets, desperate to flee. His light blue hooves were soaked in muddy water, leaving tracks on the littered streets. He needed somewhere to hide. Somewhere to be safe. But in Manehatten, nowhere was really safe enough.

The two stallions, underlings for a local gang lord, pursued him vigorously. Neither would let him escape – or live – if they caught up to him. Sure Frostburn was fast, but days without food and only rainwater to drink hadn't exactly done wonders for his health. He stumbled along, barely able to keep ahead of the two. His breaths became more ragged as his lungs burned for a respite. The muscles in his legs ached, demanding the same thing.

Hoping for a moment to breath, he ducked into an alleyway, of which Manehatten had more than the city knew what to do with.

Huffing shortly, and much too loudly, Frostburn stopped only for a moment. But it was a moment too long.

A powerful hoof slammed into his back, sending him down to the ground. Villainous laughter rang out between the two stallions. As he tried to stand, another kicked in his ribs.

"Well Switchblade," One underling said. "You want to kill him, or should I?"

"You got the last one, Trench. It's my turn." Switchblade, a dark blue pony with a Cutie Mark to match his name, said. Frostburn stumbled further down the alley, reeling in pain. Trench grabbed him and slammed his entire body into the nearest brick wall.

"Not so fast there, buddy." The pale brown stallion sneered. "We can't let you leave just yet. You see, when you steal from the boss, and it don't end well for you."

"I'll… I'll give it back." He whimpered. Reaching into his saddlebag he yanked out a small sack filled to the brim with bits. He tossed it on the ground. "Just leave me alone."

"No can do." Switchblade said. "You see, the boss can't just let something like this slide. He has to make an example out of you." Indicating himself and Trench he said, "And we are the guys he sends in order to make examples." Trench threw Frostburn to the ground. Switchblade drew out an impeccably long knife.

"You… You don't want to do this. Just turn around, walk away." Frostburn tried. The two stallions laughed manically and advanced. "Please… I don't want to hurt you." He said desperately.

"Oh, I think the hurt will be on the other hoof, buddy." Trench sneered.

"Alright, you forced me to do this." Frostburn said. His wings opened. The last thing he heard before blacking out was the unearthly screams of two ponies drenched in flames.

~The Present~

He shuddered at the memory. Even years later those two stallions could still haunt him. He was far from terrified of them, instead he felt grief. After he had regained control he saw their charred bodies, or rather, charred remains. They were nothing but ashes. Though they were the first, they had not been the last.

Seven ponies total had been victims of Frostburn. Seven. He was a monster. Each face still haunted him, nightmares about them plagued his dreams. All seven had a different story, but it all ended the same. Always fire. Always ash.

Removing himself from those horrific thoughts, Frostburn found himself in an alleyway. "I hate irony." He breathed.

"It is truly despicable." Something said.

"What? Who's there?" Frostburn turned around, and saw nopony.

"I am not there… not physically." The voice said again. It was a deep, booming voice. The kind you would expect from some regal pony. A pony with real power.

"Who are you?" Frostburn yelled. "What are you?"

"I have been many things. A beggar, a thief, a student, a phantom. But most recently I have been a king."

"This doesn't make any sense." The ice blue pegasus said, searching around for whatever it was that was contacting him.

"I cannot talk much now. My body lies in a weakened state and must be tended to. But trust me when I say that I would like to help you."

"Help me." Frostburn repeated. "How can you help me? You're just some freaky voice. I'm more inclined right now to believe I'm schizophrenic."

"I know much about you, Frostburn." The pegasus froze upon hearing his name. "I sense your fear of yourself, what you are capable of."

"Great, even the freaky voice in my head knows my curse." The pegasus moaned. He heard chuckling, as if what he had just said was the punch line of a joke.

"Your unique abilities are not a curse, but a gift. A gift I can teach you to control." The voice of the king said.

"Wait, control? You mean I'll be able to keep from going crazy... From hurting ponies?" The red-haired stallion asked.

"Indeed. You'll never hurt anypony unintentionally ever again. For instance, a certain rainbow-haired pegasus you know. Or white unicorn perhaps."

Frostburn didn't speak. This was insane, he knew. The king seemed to know everything about him. But if he could help him…

"I'm still not convinced." Frostburn said, narrowing his eyes, though he very much doubted the king could see him.

"Oh I did not expect you to decide now, but dote on what I have said. And let's keep this little conversation between us."

"Who would I tell?" He asked. "Anypony would think I'm insane." The voice did not respond. The supposed King was gone. Frostburn hoped that he had imagined what just happened. Yet a part of him didn't. A chance to finally control his power was a dream come true. It meant he could finally be friends with ponies. Or something more…

Still unsure whether or not he could trust the mysterious voice, Frostburn threw the hood of his cloak over his head and touched the tip of his severed horn once more. Then he walked back into the sparkling daylight of the Crystal Empire.

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What was more surprising, my choice of villain, or the fact that this was the first Frostburn POV in ten chapters? Either way, I felt good about this chapter, but let me know your thoughts on it.

In Bronyhood,

Fire Gazer the Alchemist