I am deceased, or at least, I feel as if I'm dead. Quite the plight I am in, isn't it? I never thought that the afterlife would be this dark, and so frigid. Wait, I'm not quite dead just yet. I'm perhaps just minutes, seconds even, from dying. I'm not certain. It's just an estimation.

"Hey? You still there?" I heard a distant voice called out to me. Somehow, the voice was eerily familiar. "Come on, you're not fooling anyone. I know you're alive. So stop being so unproductive and get up."

The rampant pain that numbed me dissipated almost completely. My limbs no longer felt the searing wounds that scathed me, and clarity that was once overwhelmed by the agony was renewed. The sudden rejuvenation struck me with perplexity and hesitation.

Somewhat reluctant, I opened my eyes.

I was still in the forest, but what struck me as awry was the fact that there was a precise replica of me standing just a few feet from me. He wielded a sword, an intimidatingly lengthy one, to be more exact. He glared at me with malicious eyes, his face bearing a sinister grin.

"About time," the sword lands just inches away as he threw it at me, "Shall we begin?" He questioned, unsheathing a sword from a concealed scabbard.

My eyes darted from the sword on the ground displaying my reflection on the surface of its blade and back to my clone who was flourishing his blade with swift motions and spins. "W- what do you mean?" I stammered, fearing the implications of his previous words.

He sighed, his ravenous grin shifting to that of a frown of annoyance, "You're really slow, aren't you?" he points to the ground with his own blade, directing the tip of it to a corpse, "You see that? That's what we're fighting for."

I glanced at the body. My eyes twitched with astonishment when I discovered that it was my own, unconscious body. "The... hell?" I muttered audibly as I took a step back.

The imitation of my image chuckled grimly. "Now do you understand? Whoever is the victor of this duel will be rewarded with a physical body," he explained.

I rationalized his words, especially the part where he said 'physical body.' "Dammit..." I said to myself as I looked at arms, realization of the current predicament I am in.

My appendages were slightly opaque, as if I've been distorted with static, and if my physical form is there lying on the ground, slumbering, that means that I am currently in some sort of incorporeal physique.

"Now that you've understood everything..." he bolted at me, his sword raised high-above him, "Let's settle this, shall we?"

Seeing the abrupt assault on me, I lunged for the sword on the ground, desperately trying to grab the handle of it. As soon as he closed in the distance between him and me, he heaved his sword downwards in an attempt to render me in half.

Fortunately, I reflexively parried the strike with a swift diagonal swing of my own weapon. The metal of the two blades rang out, resonating as they both collided with each other. An eerie echo followed as our blades met.

Despite being countered, his feral-like grin did not even falter by the slightest. Withdrawing a bit backwards, he thrust the end-part of his blade forward. His attempt at skewering me failed and resulted in a counter-attack by me in the form of a hasty kick.

The counter directly impacted his chest. I could feel a few ribs breaking beneath my foot. I wasn't expecting my kick to actually fracture bone, well, I suppose that's just the courtesy of the gradual increase of adrenaline in my body.

He didn't even hesitate as he swung his sword upward at me, I managed to sidestep before the steel connected with my vulnerable flesh. He didn't relented however, as he brought down his sword multiple times at me. The swings of his blade were neither ethereal, nor were they elegant.

Obviously, he didn't have any technique in wielding swords other than to 'swing haphazardly at foes,' though, I must admit, that's my own tactic.

The fervent blows continued to meet the broadside of my sword. With each strike came along a resonant echo of blades striking each other.

I parry one more time, swinging my sword to deflect an incoming blow. Before I could retaliate, he brought his sword downwards. Fortunately, I managed to shield myself from the daunting blow by bringing my sword up to face-level and slanting it horizontally.

Shimmering, cold steel met with each other. Our swords were pressed onto each other, both of them struggling desperately for domination. I kept the adverse sword away from my face, using my own. My knees faltered, pressured by the force applied onto the strike.

I looked at the face of my foe. Somehow, my eyes weren't focusing on the iron edge right in front of me. His right eye was illuminated by a luminous purple glow that was similar to my own, of course, with the exception of color. I recognized that pigment, it was when I went insane.

Somewhat, this is fitting. I am dueling with my counter-part who has descended into a state of psychotic madness. To the victor be the spoils--control of my actual body.

I tried to push back the blade with as much force as I could muster, but I was met with no fruition. Fortunately, however, the opposing blade wasn't inching closer to me. It's apparent that us, the two combatants, are in an impasse.

The sword against mine own inched closer as I desperately attempted to repel it, the grin of my demented imitation widened sickeningly as he spectated this. Summoning the clinging remnants of my strength, I tried to push back the blade, but to no fruition.

My grasp trembled rapidly as my foe's steel threatened to render me in two pieces. If I don't conjure some sort of plan, I'm done for!

Then an arguably stupid tactic appeared within my mind...

My left hand departed from the handle of the sword, leaving only my right hand the responsibility of preventing me from being harmed, and, or killed.

My clone chuckled audibly with sinister glee, "Ha! What's wrong? Your arm growing fatigued?"

I rummaged through my robes, finding the object that I am hoping to give the desired effect that I want, "No. Not at all," I withdrew the Summoning Grimoire from my robes, holding it in my left hand, "Here, why don't you take this as a present?"

With exemplary precision, that was acquired from throwing things often, I hurled the book towards my opponent's face. The book scored the flesh of my clone, scalding it thoroughly.

My amoral replica winced and staggered backwards, shielding his face with his right arm, "Ack! Ah. The hell!?" he cursed wildly as he flailed his sword blindly towards me.

Sidestepping from a rather close slash, I closed in, positioning myself for a swift strike. "You're not exactly the owner of that damned book just yet," I said in triumph as I thrust my sword forwards, impaling him directly in the chest.

I let my grip go, leaving the sword embedded into my clone. He falls to his knees, his eyes widened, blood seeping profusely from the wound. With a gurgle of blood, he mutters at me bitterly as he falls to the floor

"Bastard... Can't you just play fair for once?"

"Hey? You're still breathing... that means you're still alive, right?"

I awoke to the sound of a voice. The voice was familiar, but the identity of the voice was obscured as I couldn't decipher the words spoken to me. They just sounded like murmurs.

I slowly awakened, my eyelids slowly revealing the eyes beneath them. As I regained my vision, just a few feet away from me, I saw a black figure- Oh hell, is that Chrysalis?

"Ah, so you are alive," she nonchalantly says as she approaches me, "I didn't really think that you were still capable of even breathing."

"What makes you say that?" I said as I suppressed a cough.

"You have a sabre stuck in your stomach," she says as she points at the bladed weapon protruding through my stomach. The revelation caused me to recoil back in surprise. Did my senses go that numb when I was in... whatever the hell that was.

"How sloppy of the Alicorn Sisters," she examines the glistening, bloody blade stuck in my body, "They must've mistaken you for dead, and hurried off."

"Well, I did kinda knock out Celestia's sister with a bullet..."

"Ah, that explains it," Chrysalis starts to channel magic into her horn, her eyes closing in concentration, "In her panic, she recalled her troops, not there were many left in the first place, and head back home to tend to her sister."

"I guess," suddenly, pain resonated through my body, "the hell?! Oh- Gah!" I swore an uncountable amount of profane words as a green magical vice suddenly enveloped the weapon and began to yank itself out. I tried to clutch the opened wound, but for some peculiar reason, there was no hemorrhage of blood when the blade dislodged itself from me.

Then I noticed the dark, purplish sparks being emitted throughout my body. I recognize this... this happened just when that damned book absorbed the blasts that the princesses sent at me.

It's still in effect?

The bloodied steel hovered in front of me, the same telekinetic hold enveloping it. "Huh?" Chrysalis blurted out in surprise, "You seem unfazed? Are you impervious to pain?"

I stood up, as if not scathed in the slightest as the pain went away almost left completely from me, but despite my seemingly invulnerable aspect, I was still worried to no end. "Yes... at least, for now."

I looked around to pinpoint the location of my book. Nothing but crimson ashes and tattered earth for as far as the eye could see. Despite this, I still managed to find it.

"This... the book shielded me from two devastating magical spells from the princesses," I rub my forehead, a seemingly random migraine appearing, "It converted the magic from the Sisters into something else."

"What?" Chrysalis said, "How can you be certain?"

"I was crippled, blood dripping from all parts of my body, that was, until the book gave me a impeccable power as it simply drained the power from the sisters' arcane beams."

I succumbed to the migraine as it suddenly immensely increased in pain. "Ah... I think it has some bad, bad repercussions."

Chrysalis sighed as she pondered, "You are a non-magical being. Perhaps it's just nothing."

"Hm... perhaps-"

Suddenly a chill ran down my spine as I heard a voice from within the boundaries of my mind, "Heh. Did you really think you could eradicate me that easily?"

I knew this voice. It was my own.

"No... no." I began muttering to myself. Looking up to face Chrysalis, I pleaded, "Do you know anyone that is well-verse in these kinds of things?"

"N- no." she pauses, as if recalling something, "Well, perhaps there is one who might be able to help, but..."

"But?"

"She's sentenced for life in imprisonment in Canterlot's castle."

Author's Notes:

Sorry this took a while to make... I've been busy with things.