“You must pardon me, but I feel very peculiar. I don’t recall agreeing to anything.”

Dim did, indeed, feel quite peculiar. He felt alive, which baffled him, because the last thing he remembered was the spear he was now holding in his magic going deep into his barrel, just below his neck. Even stranger, a spectral figure floated up out of the end of the spear, like some myth from the Saddle Arabians, but Dim could not recall the name of said mythological creature. The spectre appeared to be half diamond dog and half Abyssinian, with a kind face, but fierce eyes.

“I am Chantico and I revived you with Hearthfire. I cured you of your impending lichdom. I, the Mighty and Benevolent Chantico have purged your blood of your vile addictions and healed your flesh. I offered you redemption, and you agreed to be my champion.”

“I agreed to be what?” Dim asked, worried and confused. Lichdom? This concerned him. What had his mother done to him? It made sense and struck him as something his mother would do—being the conniving plotter that she was—and he thought about Darling telling him to kill himself. The pieces began to fit, but Dim was still unable to ascertain just what sort of puzzle he was dealing with.

“You pledged to champion my cause.”

“This is troubling for me, I seem to have lost some of my memory, perhaps a good bit of time as well.” Dim looked up at the spectral figure staring down at him, and when she reached down to touch him, he shied away from her touch. When a paw touched his cheek, her touch was warm, not cold as he had expected, and it filled his body with a peace that he had never known. “What was it that I agreed to do for you in exchange for being revived?”

“You swore to look after the meek, the humble, and the helpless, so that they might know the pleasure of a hearth and home.”

“I could see myself agreeing to that.” Dim nodded, as he did not find this onerous. “The peasants suffer horrendously and bear the brunt of the hardship that the world has to offer. I find it unsettling.” The paw stroked his cheek again and some of his nervousness faded.

“You must burn the wicked, for they must know pain—”

“I can burn the wicked!” he blurted out with much youthful enthusiasm, a trait that Dim did not normally possess. Under most circumstances, he was quiet, reserved, and acted with a maturity that was far beyond his years.

“Yes, burn them! Set fire to those who would disrupt and disturb the sanctity of hearth and home! Those who would prey upon the meek, the humble, and the helpless, you must set them ablaze! Do this and I will give you what you crave… redemption! Not through petty, meaningless words, but through sweat, toil, smoke, and tears!”

“I do want… I want redemption…” Dim’s faltering voice was now little more than a whisper. “I am wicked through and through.” The cravings were gone, the shakes did not plague him, and nausea did not twist and contort his guts into a knot. Without realising that he was doing so, he pressed his fuzzy cheek against the spectral paw touching him, revelling in the peace its phantom touch offered.

“Your final test will be to bed a virgin, and then to give her the hearth and home that she deserves,” the spirit commanded.

“I do happen to know a virgin,” Dim remarked and his eyes narrowed. “In fact, I rather like her and I would like to produce unnatural offspring with her. What vizard would not want unnatural horrors for his young?”

“Build a shrine so that I might be worshipped. Revive me so that I might live again. These are my commandments. The world comes upon dark times, and my Hearthfire is needed once more. Now get busy!”

With that, the spirit vanished into the spear and was gone. Dim thought about her words while he studied the spear. Some wizards had staves, and he supposed that a spear was close enough. It had strong magic, powerful magic, and it did not resist him. Standing there in the moonlight, Dim realised that he had work to do, so much work to do. He was a pony in need of redemption, and the world was full of creatures just begging to be burned for their wickedness.

Even the most pious of ponies had to eat, though, and to live in the world took coin. With what could only be described as a manic grin, he took off up the hill to collect the head of the Jaguar Witch so that he could collect a reward from Commander Starhammer. Nopony needed to know how this actually went down and the only thing that really mattered was that the Jaguar Witch was dead.

As for the conjured fell spirit? That was somepony else’s problem.

The woods were alive with the sounds of troll-on-troll violence. A terrific orgy took place while the trolls savaged one another, because combat was their means of reproduction. When sap was exchanged from wound to wound, new trolls would be created in the form of seedpods. In no time at all, these woods would be swarming with tons of terrible, toothy, truculent, tiny toddler trolls trying to make their way in the world.

It seemed that the only thing that trolls hated more than everything else that existed was each other. Woody sounds of violence reached Dim’s ears and he kept his spear at the ready, knowing that its burning touch would finish off a troll. How did he know the spear had a burning touch? He had no idea, but know he did. He was the master of the spear now, without question, and its full complement of magic was available to him without struggle.

While Dim moved through the troll-infested woods, he thought to himself that maybe it would be prudent to come back here with Blackbird to search the old guard tower, which he had failed to do while he was there. It bothered his natural, meticulous, and thorough nature that he had skipped a beat, but he chalked it up to being disoriented from whatever had happened. His fortuitous second chance had left him in quite a mood and he felt better than he had in a long, long time.

Even in a forest filled with the sounds of a troll orgy, Dim found himself in a great mood. It was as if a dark shroud had been lifted from him, some great dark, smothering shadow had been cast away from his soul. He was hungry, and the idea of food didn’t nauseate him, as it sometimes did. Had he been paying attention, he might have recognised this as a symptom, but with his drug-addled mind affecting and dulling his perceptions, he had failed to notice.

Whatever spells his mother had cast upon him were being broken one by one, and Dim relished the prospect of being free. Free from his family’s dark shadow, free of his mother’s machinations, free of his painful, debilitating addictions, and someday, with luck, free of the black stain upon his very soul. This was a high unlike any other, and the euphoria it offered was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Humming to himself, Dim Dark had a lovely walk through the troll-infested woods.

The city of Pteroșani was now a warm glow on the horizon and the trolls seemed to be moving away from the city. Dim could hear them, bellowing and shouting their strange, creaking cries, trying to establish new territory. This was a mistake, of course, because soon enough, a bigger troll would come along to dispute the territorial claim. This made it remarkably easy for a non-troll to stroll through the woods almost unnoticed.

Slipping unnoticed between copses of trees, Dim paralleled the road leading into town, enjoying his late night stroll. He smelled smoke, a sweet smell that brought back thoughts of the warm cosiness of hearth and home. When this was all over, when Blackbird had her mother back, when he went home, he would start anew. Perhaps a new life was possible. The overwhelming, crushing sense of despair didn’t seem so heavy now, and he wondered if perhaps it was part of his mother’s tampering. Having narrowly avoided lichdom, he had good reason to be happy and was in a fine mood.

Upon reaching the gate, two pegasus ponies came out to greet him and allow him entry into the town. As the gate closed behind him, it was then that Dim realised that something wasn’t quite right, that something was wrong, because he noticed the flaming, ruined remains of the vardo ablaze near the market.

“There has been a change of leadership,” one of the guards said in calm voice. “Commander Starhammer has been relieved of her duties. Your companion is in custody. If you resist, she will be killed.”

Dim weighed his options and thought about killing the two pegasus ponies near him, but that would surely go bad for Blackbird. He didn’t know how she had been captured, or even how she had been incapacitated, because there was just far too much that was still unknown. The burning vardo infuriated him though, and somepony was going to pay for that, plus interest.

“I’ll be needing that spear,” the other guard said. “Nice and slow, pass it over. You are being watched. Even a hint of a lack of cooperation and your companion dies.”

With his jaw muscles having gone taut and his teeth now gritted together, Dim allowed the spear to be taken from him and he tossed away the severed head of the Jaguar Witch, knowing that he would receive no payment. The spear was taken and tucked under the wing of the guard who had demanded it. Dim’s eyes darted from side to side, taking in his surroundings, and he noticed one pegasus pony up on a roof armed with a levergun, a modified rifle that allowed creatures with hooves full operation. If there was one, there was probably another. This one had its hoof inside of the brass hoop that acted as a trigger and a single, swift action by the guard would make the gun fire.

“Do as you are told and cooperate. I’ll be talking you to Commander Snowbird. It’s nothing personal, just so you know. This is just business.”

Business indeed, Dim thought to himself. He understood business, this business in particular, because it was his business. These disgusting primitives were going to have to be taught a lesson in respecting their betters. His jubilant mood from earlier was gone, popped like a balloon. He hoped the town had good gutters, because a lot of blood was going to be spilled over this.

“Come along quietly and don’t make any sudden moves.”

So, this was the new normal. Betrayal and backstabbing, because they would never find a place of refuge ever again. For the promise of some great reward that would never come, he and Blackbird would be hunted everywhere they went. The vardo was gone—there would be no repairing what was done—and so even if he did somehow get them out of this situation, travelling would become quite difficult. He was confident that he could deal with this somehow, but first, he had to make sure that Blackbird was safe.

He walked between the two pegasus guards and tried to keep track of just how many rifles were aimed at him. There were a few unicorn guards about, but they didn’t seem all that dangerous, at least as far as magic went, but their firearms would give him trouble. He wasn’t sure how he was going to nullify this threat to him just yet, but his mind was already scrambling for ideas.

They stopped at a sturdy door, the entrance to the barracks, or so Dim guessed, and he kept his wits about him as the door opened. He heard sobbing from within, Blackbird’s sobbing, and something entirely unpleasant awoke within him, something like rage but it was far, far worse. In his short life, he had never felt anything quite like it, but he never wanted to hear the sound of Blackbird weeping ever again.

“Ah, our esteemed guest,” a voice said. “Do come in. No doubt, you are worried for your friend. Do not let your emotions get the best of you. Remain calm, make no sudden moves, and don’t even think about casting any spells.”

Dim was shoved through the door and he almost stumbled. He saw Blackbird in a heap on the floor, bound in rope, and her whole body jerked and spasmed while she sobbed. She was soaking wet and lay in a puddle of gritty, debris-filled water. His own eyes began to water a bit and Dim suspected that he knew how Blackbird had been captured. The crushed red and orange pepper flakes in the water told a story of torture that pained Dim to even think about.

“She is quite spirited,” a pegasus wearing heavy iron armor said to Dim. “Even after hitting her with the dust bombs, she put up quite a fight. Killed two of my soldiers and a third is not expected to survive. Such is the cost of doing business, I suppose. Now, you do so much as blink an eyelid in a way that I don’t like and she’ll be the one to suffer. Do we have an understanding?”

Too enraged to even speak, Dim remained immobile while he considered his options.

“Come now,” the pegasus said in a chiding tone. “Don’t make me use all of the usual threats that apply to this situation… rape, torture, branding, plucking, enucleation, and of course, all of this will happen after you have been subdued and you will be made to watch.”

Dim’s response came in the form of impenetrable, inky darkness that filled the room…

What little light that Blackbird could see was suddenly gone, and crushing darkness settled over her. The sound of gunfire was deafening, but there were no bright flashes of light, only darkness. She felt a tugging sensation upon the whole of her body, and then the floor beneath her ceased to exist. Something which almost felt like tumbling into nothingness happened for a brief second that stretched for far too long, and then she felt herself lying on cold, chilly stone.

Terrified, still sobbing, she could hear the sounds of Dim breathing, and he grunted a few times, though the reason why was unclear to her because she was still blind from having pepper dust go in her eyes. Each burning breath was agony and she writhed against the cold stone, trying to free herself. The ropes she was bound with cut into her flesh and left her with cruel friction burns as she thrashed around, confused.

“Be still,” Dim commanded from somewhere near her ear. “You are safe, for the moment. Be still, be quiet, and do nothing to give away your position. I must leave you, but I will return, you have my word. Stay silent and stay hidden.” Then, she felt the ropes bound around her front legs loosen.

She wanted to tell Dim not to leave her, but her mouth was still bound; it felt as though her cheeks would be torn by the pressure of the rope tied around her head and the rough hemp almost cut into her soft tongue. If she could get her talons free, she knew that she could remove her rope gag and free herself.

There was a sound like a popping of a cork, and she knew that Dim had left her. Gunfire filled the night and there was screaming, so much yelling and screaming. She felt a rumble and whatever she was laying on shook beneath her. Then, there was a crackling woosh, followed by a wave of heat that washed over her. Afterwards, there were many shrieks and the pungent stench of burning feathers filled the air. She struggled against her loosened bonds, managed to get her talons free, and began clawing at the ropes lashed tight around her head while the sounds of fiery destruction continued all around her.

A sound like not-so-distant thunder crashed all around her and the structure beneath her lurched as though it would come tumbling down. She suspected that she was up on a roof somewhere, but she couldn’t be certain. Blinded, she listened to the cacophony of rampant obliteration coming from every conceivable direction. Glass shattered, heavy stones smacked together with terrific force, and the roar of flames grew so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of everything else.

What was Dim doing? Blackbird’s own talons tore open her tender flesh as she scratched away at the tight knots, and the clumps of red pepper still lodged in her mane worked their way into the fresh cuts. The sound of what could only be a stone building collapsing caused her to let out a muffled, gagged squeak of terror, and her fright was made worse by her utter inability to see anything of what was going on.

Gunfire stuttered and chattered, broken glass tinkled, and above all else, the most dreadful, blood-curdling screams that Blackbird had ever heard in her life tore through the dark shroud of night. At last, she was able to pull the rope gag off so the rough, cruel hemp was no longer rubbing friction burns against the corners of her mouth and cheeks. Pepper dust immediately began to work its way into her burns and abraded flesh, along with the saltiness of her sweat and tears.

When the pain proved to be too much, she puked and the contents of her stomach splashed down her neck and torso. Her vomit too, was filled with the many pepper flakes she had swallowed, and this made everything so much worse. Miserable, fighting to even draw breath into lungs that burned with irritating dust, she writhed against the stones and wished that she was dead. Nothing in her life had prepared her for pain like this.

Snot festooned with red flakes poured from her nostrils, along with foamy vomit. Gagging, for a moment she feared that she might choke to death, and Dim wasn’t here to save her. Not knowing what else to do, she punched herself in the stomach, which made her puke again. Now, starbursts filled her vision as her brain screamed out its need for oxygen. She heaved a few times and then, much to her relief, her airway was free again, but the pain of breathing was too much to bear.

There was just no relief to be had.

The claws at the end of her talons raked over hard stone as she squirmed, trying to endure this unimaginable misery. Her hind legs were still bound and the sensation of pins and needles she had experienced down her hooves had been replaced by total numbness. There was another terrific explosion and the sound tore into her vulnerable ears, leaving them ringing with the sounds of tolling bells. Tonight, the bells tolled for somepony, but not for her.

Curling into a fetal ball, Blackbird begged to anypony that might be listening for this to end.

Author's Notes:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YEVqIcIKTWc