Terminal World
Chapter 9: VIII: Anathema.
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The enemy came forward in an undisciplined and frantic charge, the warriors of Lord Sombra's host jostling and shoving against each other in their haste to draw the blood of their foes. Lances of brilliant emerald energy scythed through the horde, cutting down those unable to dodge the intense beams. Those that were lucky were killed outright, the atoms of their being flensed away upon impact to leave bloodless, but bone-deep wounds; Those who survived could do nought but tumble to the ground to be crushed beneath the hooves of those they had called allies, leaving the pristine marble beneath stained with a bloody paste of flesh and bone.
Behind them, an island of cold intellect amidst a sea of hatred, Lord Sombra watched without empathy as the gap between the host and the Celestial Guard continued to close, alicorns dying with each step taken. Though the dark alicorn himself gazed with passive, expressionless eyes, those of his witch beside him gleamed with dark obsession, a flush of excitement blooming on her azure cheeks.
The Celestial Guard only managed to let off three volleys of gauss fire before the enemy was upon them, the host descending like a tide of maddened beasts, screaming with barbaric ferocity. As the first warrior reached him Tiberius draw Starlight Wrath from his flank, the blades of the twin-headed axe flaring to life with an incandescent bloom of cyan power. The opposing alicorn before him, clad in emerald green armour, roared with hatred as he brought his fat-bladed falchion down upon Tiberius, close enough that the patriarch could make out every minute detail etched into the mask of blood-lust he wore.
It was an ineffective attack, one powered by hatred rather than strategy. Tiberius side-stepped it easily, the errant blade missing completely and embedding itself deep into the marble floor beneath. Before his opponent had time to recover, Tiberius swung Starlight Wrath in a vicious arc, the mono-filament edge of the axe's head slicing cleanly through armour, flesh, and bone, to completely hew the alicorns neck from his shoulders. The decapitated warrior remained standing for a moment, supported by the final death-grip it had upon the buried blade, before collapsing gracelessly, ultramarine blood pouring from the stump that remained.
Tiberius didn't have time to savour his victory before the enemy collided into the first rank of the Celestial Guard, and true battle began.
The Celestial Guard weathered the initial onslaught well, both the first and second rank dropping their halberds to present a bristling array of gleaming blades. Screams filled the air as those alicorns at the front of Sombra's host were impaled upon the weapons, their speed and the momentum of those pushing from behind rendering them unable to stop. A ripple ran through the front rank as they met the full force of the enemy charge, the weight of the assault pushing them back. For a few long moments the Celestial Guard were pushed back, the pressure of the attack forcing a brief alteration in position. Tiberius snarled as Starlight Wrath brought down another foe, this time burying deep into the alicorns flank to sever its spine. "Celestial Guard!" he roared over the din of combat. "Dig in!"
As one, the front row of the phalanx dug their hooves into the marble beneath them, synthetic ligaments within their armour pulling taught to hold them in position. Slowly, inevitably, the enemy assault was blunted, the stoppable force of their charge now matched with the immovable fortitude of the phalanx. The battle-line ground to a halt, the momentum of the host lost.
"Aethermancers, push!"
A crackling wall of energy burst into existence, a scintillating barricade of raw power between the Celestial Guard and Sombra's host. The wall held for the briefest second before it collapsed with an eerie howl, releasing a burst of energy that repulsed the warriors at the fore of the enemy, creating a gap of two meters between the opposing forces. Tiberius raised Starlight Wrath, his lips pulled back to reveal wicked canines.
"Celestial Guard, charge!"
With a roar that reverberated into the heights of the vaulted roof above, the alicorns of the Celestial Guard advanced into the gap, the whole phalanx moving as a cohesive unit. In a heartbeat they had reached the foe, the halberds of the first two ranks stabbing forwards, exploiting openings in their foes armour to cripple the front of the enemy battle-line. Howls of pain filled the air as the fallen alicorns collapsed under the attack, survivors pushing back to retreat even as those behind pushed forward to engage the Celestial Guard, crushing those who couldn't escape against the deadly wall of halberds. Another row of opponents fell before the Celestial Guard broke ranks, readjusting formation to take advantage of the new situation.
The front two ranks parted, the alicorns spacing out from each other to allow the duellists of the third rank to rush forwards, the twin blades of each weaving a web of death as the specialists took to the field, pirouetting with surreal grace into the foe. In moments they were absorbed into the maelstrom, lashing out at their opponents with surgical precision. With a bestial roar of his own, Tiberius broke ranks and advanced, his wings unfurling as he reared up, Starlight Wrath aglow with a nimbus of power. Another alicorn, one who had survived the ballet of death brought on by the duellists, leapt to meet him, his eyes filled with feverish light as he swung his blade at the patriarch.
Tiberius countered with ease, raising the haft of Starlight Wrath to parry the blow. These were the whelps, he realised as he traded one blow for another, severing the alicorns right foreleg with an undercut before reversing his swing and slicing through his opponents horn. Sombra would of course know that regardless of what numbers he could muster to his banner, that the Celestial Guard was the deadliest fighting force in the whole of Canterlot, a single member alone more than equal to twenty other Post-equines. Anticipating this, Sombra had deployed the young-bloods to the fore of his host, those youths whose hatred for the one who had destroyed their houses far outweighed their fighting skill. These weaklings were a shield, a crumple-zone of chaff designed to tire the Celestial Guard before Sombra let loose his veterans, who presented, if not an equal foe, a challenge for the Celestial Guard.
Tiberius growled. Sombra would find no use in such tactics here.
Ahead of him, the duellists were well into the thick of the fighting, where their superior skill and agility could be best put to use. They leapt through the enemy host, swords reduced to blurs as their incredible speed felled an enemy with each sweep and jab. Even as Tiberius watched, a single duellist overcame four foes simultaneously; dodging the heavy blow of a hammer to strike out at the hoof that wielded it, severing the limp before continuing the elegant sweep to decapitate another foe. The other two alicorns leapt in to slay the duellist, but barely had they raised their weapons in attack before the duellist was upon them, a flurry of violent movement that disembowelled one and left the other a limbless cripple.
Beyond the young-bloods Tiberius could see a second battle-line forming, one very much different from the savage mob that had led the charge. Sombra's veterans were a panoply of war, each alicorn bedecked in weathered, archaic plating. Whilst the youths had behaved like animals, screaming and cursing their hatred as they rushed forwards the second battle-line was silent, not a horde but a disciplined formation of blooded warriors. Behind the patriarch, the Celestial Guard continued to advance. Each time they came into contact with the enemy, the Aethermancers would once more repel their foes with a barrier of aethereal substance, before the halberds marched forward and killed those who had been stunned before they had a chance to recover. the whole formation moved with clockwork precision, not a single casualty yet incurred.
Realising they stood little chance against their foes, the survivors of Sombra's initial assault began to pull back, a ripple of fear passing through them each time the Celestial guard advanced. A quick magical divination revealed to Tiberius that roughly a hundred and fifty of the first wave had been slaughtered, with the rest now put to flight, leaving behind a solid core of two hundred veterans in Sombra's force. With a vicious snarl, Tiberius crippled a fleeing opponent, Starlight Wrath throbbing in his hooves as it split the alicorn from wing joints to hindlegs. For a moment Tiberius and the duellists were the only ponies left standing amidst a quagmire of pulverised flesh and congealing ultramarine fluid, before they were once more surrounded by the Celestial Guard, each alicorn returning to their position within the phalanx.
The front ranks brought their halberds down, and once again a bristling wall of sharpened blades stood between Sombra and the dais. Before them, the fifty-or-so survivors of the first wave had reached Sombra's second battle-line, their relief palpable was they returned to safety.
How quickly their relief turned to horror as the first to return were laid low.
"Dereliction of honour shall not be tolerated," Sombra said over the screams of the whelps as they were cut down by their own allies, the veterans of the second battle-line hacking apart those cowards who believed it was safe to return. "The new order has no place for those too weak to follow the commands of their liege." With their now traitorous allies ahead of them, and the thicket of the Celestial Guard at their backs, the first wave reduced into a panicked mass. Trapped between two walls of death, most dropped their weapons in an attempt to flee, whilst a few others took to the air hoping to fly over Sombra's host and out into the gallery beyond the breach.
How wrong they were.
Throughout the assault of the first wave Sombra's witch had simply stood by her lord and observed the flow of combat with a devious eye, but as the retreating alicorns attempted to pass overhead she seemed to return from her trance-like state, a wicked grin passing over her luscious lips. Around her neck, the alicorn head wrought into the amulet she wore began to glow with blood-red energy, the ruby eyes springing into life as the saturating energy began to consume her horn. With an intense scream of both pain and pleasure, the mare vented the building magic, scintillating bolts of crackling lightning bursting from the tip of her fluted, elegant horn to lash out at those who were fleeing. Each time one of the bolts came into contact with a living body it reduced its target to a cloud of glowing embers, disintegrating the deserter into nothing but dust.
It was over in moments.
As the last of the survivors was reduced to nothing the mare ceased her spell, an expression of rapturous ecstasy contorting her perfect features. She was panting heavily through parted lips, her violet eyes half-lidded as the flush on her cheeks intensified. Lowering her hindlegs so that her rump was pressed against the chill floor, she let off a gentle whine as she began to grind herself against the cold marble, eyes now closed and her head tilted back.
Sombra let a brief smile pull at the extremities of his mouth.
"Well done, my dear Trixie," he acknowledged, briefly lowering his muzzle to gently bite the tip of the mares right ear. The witch let out an even greater whine, her body shuddering as it came into contact with that of her lord and master. Opening her eyes, she gazed up at the alicorn, her pupils dilated and unfocussed. Grinning, Sombra raised his head to lock his gaze with Tiberius, a much darker gleam appearing in his eyes. "A fine display, stripling," Sombra mocked, his words causing Tiberius to grit his teeth in anger. "It would seem that Shining Armour wasn't a foal when it came to the matter of succession, I shall take great pleasure in your defeat." The dark alicorn chuckled. "I would slay you outright, and mount your skull upon my throne, but it would seem that my witch as taken a liking to you. So for now, I will have to satisfy myself with your humiliation."
Tiberius glowered back at Sombra, his brow furrowed in anger. In his chest the burning incandescence of righteous fury began to built, the pressure in his soul climbing higher with each passing moment. Around him, the Celestial Guard bristled, the edicts of honour allowing no slight to the patriarchs valour to go unpunished. Tiberius glanced briefly from Sombra to the witch by the alicorns side, who was once more staring at him with her brilliant, evocative eyes. Again he felt the perverse tugging at his soul, the clarion call of desire stirring from its long dormancy. He growled, the deep rumble of an impending landslide, but the mare did nothing but smile back at him, the feverish light once more burning in her eyes.
Though he hid it well beneath his fury, Tiberius felt an undercurrent of trepidation in his soul. Sombra's blatant act of cruelty was a precursor, he knew, a glimpse into what would become of the princess and Canterlot if the Celestial Guard fell; Cadence possessed no offensive magical skills, nothing to provide her with a modicum of self-defence. If he was defeated here, Tiberius knew, the princess would have no hope of defeating Sombra, and would swiftly fall, with Canterlot following after her in short order.
"Your tactics betray you, Sombra," Tiberius returned, bringing Starlight Wrath back up into a guard position. "The good king? I've never heard such blatant lies." Tiberius gestured to the carnage surrounding the Celestial Guard with a sweeping arc. "If this is the destruction that you would visit upon even those who would follow you loyally, than the terror that you would unleash upon the Pre-equines of Canterlot will be nothing less than Armageddon." The alicorn pointed Starlight Wrath towards Sombra, the duel-headed axe held steady in his firm grip. "If you wish to possess my skull, Sombra, than come and get it. Whilst even a single breath of life still resides inside my soul I shall never yield to you. I am Tiberius, patriarch of the Celestial Guard, and as long as I stand my brothers and I will fight to the bitter end."
The silence was deafening.
Sombra began to chuckle. It started as a near-imperceptible undertone of bass, like the grinding of tectonic plates; deep and powerful. For a few moments this was the only noise to permeate the air, before it began to rise in volume. Sombra's chuckle became a mocking laugh, growing louder and louder until he was roaring like a beast, his head thrown back and his fangs gleaming stark white against the charcoal black of his coat. "Really, whelp?" he managed as his mirth died, a vicious and predatory grin spreading across his features. "You believe that a speech and a threat is all it will take to make me tremble? No. " Sombra chuckled again, malevolent in every sense of the word. "Tell me, Tiberius. Do you honestly believe you have even the faintest glimmer of hope of defeating me?"
Tiberius snarled, his blood boiling in anger. "Come test my ceramite, Sombra, and we shall see who walks away victorious." The tension in the air was unbearable, the silence alive with a deadly undercurrent of violence. Tiberius held Sombra's gaze, Starlight Wrath firm in his grip. His opponent merely sneered.
Then Sombra exploded.
A searing burst of violet fire, roaring like the beasts of Tartarus, leapt from Sombra's scarlet eyes, turning them into a deadly inferno of black magic. The air itself became permeated with the shrill screams of the damned, wind whipping through the dark alicorns mane as a vortex of energy formed around him. Above him, swirling and coalescing from nothing came the aethereal forms of departed souls, clouds of iridescent smoke wrought into unholy visages of agony. An agonised wailing rent the air, eerie and tormenting screams that clawed at the fringes of Tiberius' mind. Sombra's muzzle opened, and from within came a savage, piercing roar; scarlet fire pouring from his throat. The Daemon leapt forwards at blistering speed, little more than a blur. With a unified cry, the second battle-line began its charge; teeth bared and weapons ready.
Tiberius had the merest fraction of a second to bring Starlight Wrath back into a guard position before Sombra was upon him, an avalanche of fire and raw power. Sombra's Arcane Blade whipped downwards, striking a ringing blow against the haft of Starlight Wrath, and forcing Tiberius to leap backwards. Raising his axe, the patriarch yelled a battle-cry and returned the blow, swinging his weapon in a devastating arc strong enough to shatter ferrocrete. Sombra didn't even flinch, His Arcane Blade dying only to reappear on the other side of his body, blocking the mortal blow. Tiberius could on stare in disbelief for a fraction of a second before Sombra raised an armoured hoof and smashed it into his face, sending blood flying as he shattered the alicorns muzzle.
Tiberius shouted wordlessly, pulling his weapon back into the guard position once more. His muzzle throbbed with a sharp pain, blood running freely from his split skin. Around them the world was alive with unseen movement, yet Tiberius couldn't spare it even a moment of his time; locked into the unfolding violence he found himself in. Despite the lack of an audience, the shades continued to dance, accompanied by dull screams and curses. Across from the patriarch, Sombra stalked as an abomination; eyes burning like the forges of Dis whilst tongues of bloody flame rose from his fanged muzzle. The Daemon didn't even seem to posses even an inkling of Equinity, fire snorting from his bellowing nostrils in a murderous parody of a Hellhound. The abomination growled; its Arcane Blade raising in challenge.
Tiberius accepted in a heartbeat.
Roaring with righteous fury, the patriarch charged forwards. "For the princess!" he cried, Starlight Wrath poised above to deliver a killing blow. Sombra stood his ground, his flaming eyes narrowed at Tiberius as he approached. With all his force, Tiberius brought Starlight Wrath down in a devastating slam, the blade itself powerful enough to split ceramite. But even as he brought the axe down, Sombra suddenly reared, his wings unfurling to reveal membranous, torn wings, more like those of a bat than a Post-Equine, or even a Pre-Equine. With a powerful beat of his wings, Sombra leapt skyward, Tiberius releasing a frustrated curse as Starlight Wrath became errant and buried itself into the marble where the dark alicorn had only just been standing. Ripping it free, Tiberius roared and opened his own majestic wings, giving chase.
Sombra was waiting.
"You disappoint me, Tiberius," Sombra mocked as Tiberius came level with him, the two floating barely ten meters apart. "For all your bold words I assumed you'd be a competent and, dare I say it, even a worthy adversary. But I find your performance somewhat amateur." Sombra shook his head, tutting to himself. "Oh, Shining Armour, what have you done, giving your most prestigious mantle to this stripling."
Tiberius had felt furious enough as it was, both Sombra's previous mockery of the princess and the adrenaline of combat pushing his heightened emotions to primordial levels. But the fact that his opponent dared to question his abilities, and make mockery of Shining Armour, his mentor, was more than he could stand for. With another beat of his wing, Tiberius propelled himself forwards, anger fuelling his strike. Sombra dodged however, spinning through the air with grace that bellied his muscular stature. As Tiberius rocked past, Sombra nicked him with his Arcane Blade, the ethereal weapons lashing out to slice through the gaps in the patriarchs battle-armour.
"Good, anger!" he shouted as Tiberius swung about, azure blood leaking in a thin trail down his armoured right hind-leg. "Let us see if your fury provides a satisfactory foe." Sombra's Arcane Blade shot forward like a bolt, moving too fast for Tiberius to block. Spinning, Tiberius altered its angle of approach to ensure it would bounce harmlessly off his armour, and yelped in shock when instead the bound energy gouged a furrow through the metal, sending showers of sparking flying as the internal circuitry was disrupted. Continuing his spin, Tiberius flipped away and returned the attack with one of his own, his horn becoming infused with golden fire as he released a lance of gleaming magic.
Sombra grunted as the beam hit home, the beam diffusing across the black-gray surface of his armour. As his Arcane Blade returned to him, Sombra launched himself towards Tiberius, his blade held low for an attack on his enemies flank. Thrice Sombra lashed out, and thrice Tiberius blocked, Starlight Wrath parrying each blow. It seemed that the weapon was impervious to whatever chaotic energies comprised Sombra's own armament, though whether this was due to some binding rune or a feat of ancient technology Tiberius couldn't say. He repaid Sombra blow for blow, swinging a vicious uppercut that forced Sombra to dodge back before following up with a reverse swing that caught the back of Sombra's membranous wing as the dark alicorn tried to pull back, the atomically sharp blade cutting through the flesh with ease.
Sombra didn't even seem to register the wound, pulling back fully in order to gain a brief respite; or so Tiberius hoped. A predatory smile crawled across the dark alicorns muzzle, wisps of fire escaping from between his fangs. "Not bad, patriarch, not bad. You were a bit slow on the uptake perhaps, but it would seem your fury gives you true strength." Tiberius frowned, narrowing his eyes at Sombra. "Now then, shall we begin?"
Begin?
Faster than Tiberius could comprehend Sombra was upon him, grunting as the dark alicorn bodily collided into him, knocking the breath from his lungs and causing his armour to shriek as it caved under the enormous force.
Then, the world became anarchy.
The two alicorns tumbled through the air together, locked in bitter combat. Sombra seemed to be everywhere at once, striking from unseen quarters with his Arcane Blade or snapping at Tiberius with his fanged maw and beating him with powerful, armoured hooves. Tiberius fought back with the ferocity of a caged animal, Starlight Wrath hammering dolorous blows against Sombra's armour. "Do you know who I am, you foal?" Sombra roared as he smashed his hoof into Tiberius' gut. “Do you?!”
"I am Sombra!"
Gripping the flailing hoof that held Starlight Wrath, Sombra gripped Tiberius' neck in a telekinetic choke-hold; forcing the patriarch to watch as he raised another armoured hoof. "I have watched Equestria burn thrice over and thrice again!" The hoof struck Tiberius across the lips, splitting the skin and forcing loose a few teeth, which rattled inside his mouth. "I have waged war against Celestia and Luna themselves!" The hoof struck against, this time against the armour of Tiberius' gut, the blow so powerful that the metal beneath dented, synthetic ligaments and servo-motors faltering as they were twisted out of shape.
Tiberius felt winded at the blow, the ethereal chain around his throat tightening. He was choking, black spots spreading like embers across his vision as epoxia threatened to overcome him. Sombra's hoof struck him over and over, Tiberius' muzzle collapsing under the weight of each blow. "I have stood at the Eternity Gate, seen the Realm of Magic in all its insane glory, and watched the wrath of the Divine shatter this world in an Apocalypse beyond anything you can imagine!" With one final blow, Sombra released Tiberius, the patriarch falling through the air like a rag doll; his limbs numb and his mind reeling in dull pain. His body impacted with the marble floor with the disgusting crack of bone shattering.
Tiberius screamed; fire coursing throughout his being as his pain receptors began firing impulses with even the slightest twitch. Raising his head, Tiberius hissed through gritted teeth, opening his swollen eyes to watch as Sombra slammed into the ground on all four hooves with the strength of a comet. Such was the force of his landing that he created a shallow crater upon impact, though Sombra didn’t spare it so much as a glance as he stepped out and towards the prone form of the patriarch, the daemonic fire that had possessed him dying and returning him to his Post-Equine form. “All these and more I’ve seen with my own two eyes, patriarch,” Sombra growled, his Arcane Blade shimmering back into existence before him. “But the horrors I’ve witnessed, the crimes and torments I’ve perpetrated, are nothing compared to what the Goddess did to this world...”
Groaning, Tiberius pulled his unwilling body back to its hooves, rising on trembling, weak legs. Somewhere inside him was a pain more agonising and deep than anything he’d ever experienced. Tiberius was no stranger to pain, his duty as a member of the Celestial Guard placed him at the forefront of every battle and drove him into the bloodiest melees; but none of the wounds he’d ever sustained matched the sensations that twisted inside of him. From his broken muzzle to the small nick Sombra had placed on his flank, the wounds seemed to sting at him with a disturbingly sentient malice, as if they were alive and deviously inflicting their own pain upon the body of their host. His head was spinning, the black marks on his vision growing and popping and growing and popping.
The world swum in a haze of blood and weakness.
“What the hell did you do to me?” he spat, blood drooling down his muzzle. Sombra grinned maliciously, bringing his Arcane Blade up and inspecting its scintillating, aethereal surface.
“The Anathema is a blade unlike any other, young stripling. Yes, it differs from most in its lack of physical form, but what truly makes it unique is its malignance.” The blade gently rotated in the air as Sombra spoke, as if it were some horrendous market item up for sale. “The Anathema has been in the possession of my bloodline for generations. The legends of my house say that in ages past, before the Shattering, Nightmare Moon, or even the Windigo’s, the first stallion of the House of Sombra swore a pact with an entity beyond even my ken, selling his soul beneath a moon of blood for the power to crush nations and dominate empires. What truly transpired between my ancestor and the entity he aligned himself with is a mystery that has long been lost to history, but the pact bore its murderous fruit in the form of this weapon.”
Sombra was interrupted as an alicorns scream pierced his soliloquy, drawing both his attention at that of Tiberius. Through the haze that warped his vision Tiberius made out the armoured form of a Celestial Guard, Dominus, as he charged forward in defence of his patriarch. To Tiberius’s infected eyes the alicorns golden armour seemed to be impossibly bright, its phantasmal aura dimmed only by the azure fluids that drenched it.
Sombra didn’t even bother to parry.
“Tsk, tsk. How rude,” he said in an indignant voice, dodging the blow. Sombra didn’t lean more than a fraction of an inch, but the blade Dominus held in his aethereal grip fell short of its mark, the alicorns own momentum pulling him in front of Sombra as he willingly imposed himself between his patriarch and the dark alicorn, curving the blade paths through the air to strike with a backhand. “I was engaged in reminiscence with your patriarch, if you don’t mind,” Sombra continued in a calm and steady voice, even as the Arcane Blade leapt from nowhere and parried the incoming blow, forcing the attacking weapon to come for a complete stop, locking its master and his opponent together in a deathly standoff. “Surely even the fine elite of the Celestial Guard are educated in polite etiquette and discourse, are they not?”
Dominus replied with feral roar.
“Hmm, I guess not.”
Tiberius could do nothing but cry out helplessly as the Arcane Blade pushed back against Dominus’ weapon, splitting the length of ceramite in twain before re-orientating itself and thrusting into Dominus’ barrel. The skewered alicorn let out nothing more than a mute, strangled scream before he disintegrated into ash.
“Now then, where were we?” Sombra asked as the remains of the Celestial Guard fell to the floor, a few stray flecks scattering into the air. “Ah yes, I remember, the pact. The Anathema gave my ancestor the power he desired and, in typical fashion for the stallions of my house, he proceeded to butcher his way through the northern realms, striking down those who opposed him and offering up those who surrendered as libations of bloody sacrifice to the one who bestowed such power upon him. Thus the Crystal Empire came to be, and was ruled by the House of Sombra for aeons, until, of course, the celestial sisters came along and snatched away what was rightfully mine by blood and inheritance.” A poisonous scowl briefly flitted across Sombra’s muzzle. “But enough of ancient history; let us move on to the weapon itself, shall we? The Anathema is bound to the House of Sombra through blood and corruption, a weapon that can be wielded by no other pony on the face of Equestria. Of course, no pony has been foolish enough to try, but I have been told that should one who is not of my house attempt to cast the summoning call their soul shall be sucked from their body and offered up as compensation to the entity that gifted it so long ago.”
Sombra took a few steps closer to the patriarch, stalking in ever tightening circles around Tiberius. “But don’t be foolish enough to assume it is merely a magical construct of immense power; the Anathema is alive, young stripling, and actively seeks to spill the blood of both the innocent and the damned. It cares not which, so long as its blood-lust is sated. Even a minor, glancing blow is enough to infect its target with a shard of its own malicious spirit, as your wounds currently demonstrate, and as for a killing blow, well…” Sombra’s voice trailed off as a fanged smile crept across his muzzle. “I believe the death of your comrade served as a sufficiently eloquent lesson.”
“You… monster,” Tiberius weakly cursed, trendils of surgical agony creeping through his nervous system, seeping into his body from the wounds the Anathema had inflicted. “You absolute… fucking… monster!”
“Come, come, young stripling,” Sombra replied in a voice of mock offense. “We may be locked in a duel of mortal import, but that doesn’t warrant the use of such appalling language.” The Anathema pulsed as it was levelled at Tiberius. “So why not pick up your weapon and prove to me you’re a warrior of at least some calibre, you little cunt.”
Somehow, even through Sombra’s chokehold and the ensuing soliloquy, Tiberius had kept his hoof gripped around the haft of Starlight Wrath, and with a bestial roar that pulled his lips taut to reveal his fanged canines he lunged forwards, pulling the axe from the gouge it had dug into the marble floor. Sombra spared one last rictus grin before flames once more engulfed his form and he charged forward, Anathema thrust out before him. For a brief second the two alicorns were frozen in motion, two opponents locked in a struggle of titanic proportions with the fate of Canterlot held in the balance.
The Anathema lashed out in a swift side-swipe, Sombra aiming to take off Tiberius’s legs with a single blow. His strike missed however, as his target ducked beneath the blow. At the last possible moment Tiberius leapt forwards, spinning to ensure that he landed on his back, a shower of sparks blazing behind him as he lid along the marble floor and between the larger alicorns legs, Starlight Wrath raised and catching Sombra beneath his barrel, shearing through his ash-gray armour to carve a continuous, deep gash through the soft flesh beneath, before emerging out the other side, slicing a few errant hairs from Sombra’s tail at Tiberius emerged, the muscles in his wings tensing to allow him to flip over onto his hooves.
Sombra reared back, his fanged muzzle split in a piercing scream that seemed to lance its way straight through Tiberius’s mind, causing the Anathema inflicted wounds to flare up in an intense burst of fresh agony. Turning, the Daemon fixed its baleful glare upon Tiberius, snorting fire as it opened its fanged maw and shrieked.
It was on him in a moment.
This time Sombra discounted his weapon; he didn’t even draw it into and attack position. Instead the Anathema faded from existence as Sombra charged forward, slamming his bulk into Tiberius. Sombra’s maw snapped at Tiberius’s muzzle, razor fangs coming within inches of biting deep into his flesh. They tumbled to the ground in a confusion of clattering metal and screaming sparks, Sombra growling like some hellish Timberwolf as he sought to seize Tiberius in his jaws. Grunting with the force of the blow, Tiberius felt Starlight Wrath fly from his grip. The two warriors rolled across the bloody marble floor, azure fluids and thick paste staining their armour as they came to a skidding halt, Sombra pinning the patriarch beneath his bulk.
He was too heavy for Tiberius to move, the alicorn grunting with effort as he reached up with his hooves and seized Sombra’s muzzle mere moments before it grasped him, forcing the ravening maw open. Sombra’s eye were already eerie enough as they were, two blaze infernos that seemed to gaze deep into the patriarchs soul, but from this close they were terrifying. Tiberius felt his heart seize as he locked his gaze with that of the Daemon atop him, feeling as soul-consuming chill wrap around his very core. As he struggled, prescient visions flashed before his eyes with disturbingly vivid detail.
For one moment he saw the throne room become as wasteland, littered with rubble and the bodies of the fallen. Through the wreckage stalked Sombra, his eyes aglow with witch-fire as he slowly advanced on the throne, were princess Cadence sat; isolated and alone. Sombra’s fangs closed, trapping a hoof between them, though for now Tiberius could feel his armour hold. The vision changed, warping and fluxing into yet another snap-shot image of what could be.
Canterlot was burning.
Vast pillars of concrete, the clustered high-rise blocks of Neon Heights, rose above a sea of roiling flames. Through the shattered ruins below terrified Pre-Equines fled for their lives, stallions, mare, and foals, galloping as fast as their hooves could carry them. What stalked them was a hoard of alicorns, growling and snarling like beast whilst above them flew the standards of standards of the House of Sombra, a six-point snowflake framed on a background of royal purple. Leading them was the dark alicorn himself, his witch stood by his side, both revelling in the destruction; Sombra cold and aloof, the witch blushing with perverted delight.
Sombra crushed his jaws together, Tiberius roaring with pain as his opponents fangs pierced through his armour and into the flesh beneath, pinpricks of agony shooting up his leg. Snarling in the manner of a rabid dog, Sombra shook his head, worrying the flesh in his grasp. Tiberius pulled back his other hoof to punch Sombra in the muzzle, but the blow was weak compared to any of the others he had thrown. It was the wounds of the Anathema, some detached and analytical part of his mind realised, they were slowly sucking the life from him until he was a weak as a Pre-Equine. The vision shifted again, somehow made more real by the pain that shot through his body.
A purple mare stood on the edge of a great plateau, gazing out at Canterlot in the far distance. Though she had only a horn atop her head, some deep-seated instinct told Tiberius that she was a Post-Equine, despite her lack of pinions. Beside her stood another mare, a cyan pegasus with a mane that was a riot of colour. Both wore looks of complete dread. The perspective of the vision shifted to Canterlot, blurred by the faint aura of the Abstraction. Even from this distance the plumes of smoke rising from nearly every ledge were easy to see, sharply defined in the thin, unpolluted air of the Outzone, the acrid stench of burning materials permeating the atmosphere. For a few moments nothing happened, save for the plumes rising higher and higher, then, suddenly, Canterlot pulsed. A ripple ran through the vision, radiating from Canterlot like waves in a pond. As it washed over the two mares they ducked down, forelegs raised as it to protect from some invisible force. Beyond them the Abstraction shimmered, before slowly, with a terrible inevitability, it began to crack.
The visions came to a sharp, grinding halt as Sombra gave his jaws one last squeeze, causing Tiberius to yelp, before releasing the hoof. Tiberius, his vision swimming and his mind dulled with pain, could barely react as the dark alicorn above him snapped his maw down on his neck just above his shoulder.
He screamed.
It was as if Sombra was forcing some kind of hideous poison into his body. Lifting the screaming alicorn like a ragdoll, Sombra shook his head, goblets of flesh tearing off in his muzzle as Tiberius could to nought but weakly pant for breath. Giving his head was final, intense shake, Sombra released Tiberius from his grip, the patriarch tumbling weakly to the floor, using the last reserves of his strength to roll himself onto his stomach. Through the haze and pain, Tiberius managed to make out the form of Starlight wrath a few meters ahead of him, though it was little more than a faint silhouette in his dimming vision. Gritting his teeth, Tiberius groaned as he reached forward with a hoof to drag himself to his weapon, groaning as a lance of pain shot up his side.
Behind him the flames that wreathed Sombra’s body died down, replacing the Daemon with a Post-Equine. For a few moments Sombra watched the patriarch struggle forward a few inches before he reached up with an armour hoof and wiped the back of his across his muzzle; it came away slick with azure fluid. The dark alicorn idly gave his soiled hoof a look over, his tongue flicking loose a shred of meat caught in his fangs, which he began to lazily chew, savouring the taste of vitality on his tongue. Swallowing the lump of meat, Sombra raised a fore-leg and ran it down the jagged gash that Starlight wrath had sheared through his armour, the hoof coming away sticky with black fluids; even his blood was corrupted.
Sombra paused for a few moments as he contemplated the fluid on his hoof, gazing at it with intense curiosity as it mixed with the residual azure of the patriarch’s blood. “Nobody’s made me bleed in over eight thousand years,” Sombra recanted in a calm, almost bored voice, his eyes flicking over to Tiberius, who was only a few meters away from Starlight Wrath, his hoof stretched out towards the venerable weapon. “Perhaps you aren’t as weak as I believed, young stripling. This armour I wear is a relic from a time before the zones, much the same as my Anathema; a masterpiece of high technology, just as your axe.”
Tiberius couldn’t make out a word of what Sombra was saying, a fierce ringing in his ears blocking out everything save for the slow pumping of his heart and the rattling of his own laboured breaths. Starlight Wrath was just in front of him, almost close enough to touch. With a final push of effort Tiberius reached a hoof forward, hissing as agony took the opportunity to run riot through his body. Pulling himself forward with the dying vestiges of his strength, Tiberius finally gripped the haft of Starlight Wrath.
Though his body was in agony and his mind wracked with pain, he refused to be cowed by Sombra. He was the patriarch of the Celestial Guard, and duty demanded he fight on until his body had nothing left to give. Duty and honour… duty and honour. Those were the two words that had defined his entire existence. From the moment of his birth, when he had been taken from his mother in the custodian halls, to his elevation to the status of patriarch, those two synonymous concepts had defined his very existence. Tiberius had never known his mother, or his father, he had been bred solely for the purpose of serving in the Celestial Guard. Service to the princess was the only existence he had ever known, and for it he had sacrificed the basest concepts of family, friends, and even lost the only mare he’d ever loved so as to better shoulder the burden of his responsibilities.
He’d come too far and given up too much to fail now.
What would Shining Armour have to say if he gave up? How would he ever be able to live with himself if he turned to cowardice now? The protection of the princess was his one and only purpose, his sole reason for existence. If the princess fell here because he failed in his duties than he would have no reason for which to live, rendering even the concept of self-survival worthless. If this was where he died then so be it, but he would only go with his axe in hoof and a hymn of battle on his lips; there was no other way this would end.
A hoof placed itself upon his own.
Lifting his head with slow, pained movements, Tiberius came muzzle to muzzle with Sombra’s witch. The mare gazed down at him with smouldering, half-lidded eyes; the blush on her cheeks as full and fresh as when she had disintegrated the survivors of the first battle-line. The air about her was permeated with the thick scent of her arousal, the delicate, alluring fragrance cutting through the miasma of pain that dulled his wits. With graceful, fluid movement, the mare lowered her muzzle and licked the blood from Tiberius’s muzzle, the alicorn shivering as she came into contact. Even the mare’s presence sent thoughts of a most intimate and base nature through his mind. Pulling away, the mare closed her eyes as she savoured the taste of the patriarchs blood on her tongue, moaning softly as a shiver ran up her body. Behind her stood two alicorns, both armoured in heavy plate-metal. One tall and lanky, the other short and squat; both stared at Tiberius with looks of blatant envy, as if they were jealous of the attention he was receiving from the witch.
“You kept my dear Trixie safe I trust, Snips and Snails?” Sombra asked as he approached the small group, stamping a hoof down on Tiberius’s back as soon as he was close enough. The patriarch could do little more than grunt weakly, his strength all but gone, leeched away by combat with Sombra and the wounds of the Anathema.
“Yes sir!” the two replied in unison, raising their hooves in salute with perfect synchronous. Sombra smiled faintly at the display, stamping his hoof again when he felt Tiberius twitch beneath him. The mare, Trixie, looked to her lord and master with a pouting expression.
“My lord, please; if you hurt my little patriarch too much than I’ll have to wait months before I can enjoy the pleasure of his company!”
“Be calm, my dear. I have no intention of denying you your wishes. It is simply a matter that the Celestial Guard can be quite a hand full if not dealt with properly. I would hate for Tiberius here to bring harm upon you, though rest assured that if he did, the consequences of his actions would be… severe.”
Grinning from ear to ear, the mare took a few brief moments to take another lap of blood from Tiberius’s muzzle before her horn began to glow a bloody scarlet hue, a collar of the same coloured energy springing into existence around Tiberius’s neck, snug against his flesh. The patriarch prepared to move, his grip tightening around Starlight Wrath as he prepared for a surprise attack, but the moment the collar settled around his neck the fight seemed to drain out of him and he was left paralysed, unable to move his body even an inch. Smiling, the mare giggled like a foal. Sombra smiled also, but his was the cold grin of a victorious predator.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I have some royal issues to attend to.” Sombra spun on the spot, heedless of the way the movement caused black fluids to drip from the deep gash that Tiberius had opened in his barrel. As the dark alicorn turned away, Tiberius collapsed to his side, his hoof falling limply from Starlight Wrath. Unable to move, his eyes followed Sombra as he made his way through the wasteland that now was the throne room.
All around were the hallmarks of death and destruction.
The Celestial Guard had been wiped out, eradicated from the face of Equestria. Their corpses dotted the throne room, glinting gold where their armour wasn’t caked in congealing blood. Almost all the corpses had been hacked apart into a bloody confusion of stray limbs and fleshly lumps, pools of azure fluid staining the once pristine marble floor. Tiberius felt a small shard of his soul die for each fallen brother he saw, the only consolation offered to him being the fact that every desecrated body was surrounded by heaps of Sombra’s soldiers.
The dark alicorn had won, but it had been a highly marginal victory.
His vision spinning, the sweet emptiness of oblivion calling, Tiberius felt one last burst of clarity fill his body before he sunk into unconsciousness. Sat on her throne, surrounded by the dead bodies of twenty of the Celestial Guard and her courtiers, Cadence alone remained; isolated and alone. She hid her fear well, her face a mask of disgust as Sombra advanced, but Tiberius could see the twitching in her tail, the slight flicker of emotion across her muzzle. Briefly, Cadence turned her gaze from that of Sombra to Tiberius, meeting the alicorn eye to eye. Disgust ran through Tiberius; disgust for himself and his failure. He hadn’t been strong enough to protect his princess, he had failed in his mission to keep her safe as he had promised to do.
Tears began to well up in his eyes and he closed them, unable to bear the shame the princesses gaze placed upon him. As the first drop of clear liquid ran a trail through the azure stains on his muzzle Tiberius felt something inside him snap, something so deeply rooted in his instinct that he couldn’t even give it a name; so integral was it to his existence. Above him, he sensed the mare stir, and a hoof place itself on his cheek, the mare lowering her muzzle until Tiberius could feel her hot breaths in his ear.
“There, there, my little pony. There’s no need for tears. You’re mine now, and by the time I’m done with you, you won’t ever have to worry about feeling pain ever again, or anything for that matter.” The mares warm, smooth tongue lapped at his cheek as she removed her hoof, shivers of dormant desire running through the patriarchs body as she did so. Tiberius could do little but simply lay there and weep. He’d failed, for all the horrors the future now held it was the knowledge of his failure that troubled him most. As his slipped into blessed oblivion as single thought managed to make it to the forefront of his mind, hanging in the blackness as a final prayer for salvation.
Shining Armour, please forgive me. Next Chapter: IX: Beyond the walls. Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 31 Minutes
