It was strange, Morgan thought, the way that Veliuona and Sol darkly reflected each other. And what she found strangest of all was that, after watching them together for so long, Morgan began to forget which of them was the savior, and which was the tyrant.
Sol pushed their march hard, and was more tireless than the droves of undead that walked with them. Sol had a schedule to keep, and was willing to do so at the expense of every other pony, be it the living dead, her own soldiers, or even the innocent who happened to get in their way.
And Veliuona showed a strange and almost alien compassion: her deathless forces inspired great fear in the ponies that they came across, and yet she was strangely tender with the wounded, the weak, the diseased and the dying. She would approach them... and even if she was vision of terror, escorted at all times by her Vizier and her other deathless lords, and her words at first seemed cruel and heartless... Morgan began to see a kindness in her that she had not expected. Perhaps, even compassion and love.
Veliuona made the same offer to all those they came across who were badly injured, or elsewise nearing the end of their mortal coil. She would offer to help them die peacefully, and then to resurrect them, free of any cost, as a Velite who would be permitted to complete any unfinished business, or stay with their families and friends.
Not even Titan thought such a gift could be without cost, but Veliuona only smiled, and said that she was not foolish enough to put a price on life. But she was surprisingly honest, as well, as they continued down the road: those who accepted her gifts, and clung to life, would likely find it difficult to accept the passage of the lives of their family and friends. They would bring others to her... and so would her empire grow.
Sol said with disgust that she was a parasite: Veliuona only laughed, and said she wished to do no harm. She would passively, peacefully grow her empire... and as the ponies so loved the day, her people would rule during the night. This way, they could share Equestria... and she thought it was far better that they somehow find a way to stay united rather than put both their peoples at risk with a senseless war, when there was plenty of land for them to realize their visions of a nation together.
Sol said coldly and simply there was no way that they could live side-by-side: Veliuona only replied calmly that there was no way to know unless they set aside their differences and tried... and further chastened Sol for her lack of tact, pointing out that for now, at least, they had no choice but to work together. That a great threat had invaded Equestria, one that would require both of their wiles and strengths to defeat... but Sol was undeterred, saying with disgust that if she had the choice, she would gladly eradicate Veliuona, and all of her kind for existence. That Veliuona only continued to exist because she was right: that for now, she was necessary. But, Sol said, when the moment came, she would not hesitate to turn on her, just as she knew Veliuona would do the same.
But Veliuona only smiled, and turned knowing eyes to Morgan, speaking to her as much to Sol as she said softly that she expected nothing less from her: that Sol would never stop until every last piece of darkness was erased from Equestria. No matter who it was, no matter what they had done for her, Sol would never stop... until her light had burned away every last inch of shadow across the nation... and perhaps beyond.
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Friday, 2 January 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: The Uneasy Journey
Morgan learned much from Veliuona, and Sol was able to strategize and create a grand army, which Titan outfitted and trained to their very best. For weeks, they worked, rallying their forces, as the Tyrant Wyrms ravaged the north of Equestria, and worked their way slowly down the far western seaboard: yet all the same, they knew they could not rush. That they would have to choose their battleground wisely, and prepare their forces well before they marched into battle with these terrible beasts.
Sol chose Central Equestria as the site of their first battle with the Wyrms: the beasts there seemed to be the most hostile, and the most aggressive, for even if the Wyrms along the seaboard were moving quickly, they were destroying only what happened to be along the coast and beaches. In time, they would reach one of Equestria's great port cities, but for now, they had only attacked a few fishing villages and smaller towns. And reaching them was out of the question, anyway: not even Veliuona's army of the dead could march so tirelessly and so quickly across the entirety of Equestria.
What worried Sol was that there had to be less than a hundred wyrms scattered across Equestria... yet each one was doing the damage of an army. An army that burned everything in its wake, that carried with it a fetid disease that rotted the very earth beneath their claws. And Sol could not understand what the end game of these Wyrms was: if they were intent on killing, why were they zigzagging throughout the nation, going around some of the largest, most crowded settlements? They seemed to follow wandering courses, never staying on a straight path: for a few days, they would move with brutal fury and direction, but then they would slow, or stop, or seem to lose interest: there had even been reports of Wyrms breaking off from engagements with Equestrian forces to simply wander away... although all too often, they left hideous, deathless corpses in their wake, more corrupt and monstrous than the worst of Veliuona's revenants.
So now they marched, an army led by three siblings and their unlikely ally, who had chosen - at least for the moment - to follow in Sol's lead. Perhaps this was part of her cunning, however: should they fail,Veliuona could say it was no fault of hers. But Sol knew that failure was not an option at this point: the enemy they faced was monstrous and terrible, and they had no choice but to fight with all their strength and hope to destroy it, utterly and entirely.
Because if they did not, then their enemy would doubtlessly eradicate this entire nation... and that was likely only the beginning of their cruel conquest.
Sol chose Central Equestria as the site of their first battle with the Wyrms: the beasts there seemed to be the most hostile, and the most aggressive, for even if the Wyrms along the seaboard were moving quickly, they were destroying only what happened to be along the coast and beaches. In time, they would reach one of Equestria's great port cities, but for now, they had only attacked a few fishing villages and smaller towns. And reaching them was out of the question, anyway: not even Veliuona's army of the dead could march so tirelessly and so quickly across the entirety of Equestria.
What worried Sol was that there had to be less than a hundred wyrms scattered across Equestria... yet each one was doing the damage of an army. An army that burned everything in its wake, that carried with it a fetid disease that rotted the very earth beneath their claws. And Sol could not understand what the end game of these Wyrms was: if they were intent on killing, why were they zigzagging throughout the nation, going around some of the largest, most crowded settlements? They seemed to follow wandering courses, never staying on a straight path: for a few days, they would move with brutal fury and direction, but then they would slow, or stop, or seem to lose interest: there had even been reports of Wyrms breaking off from engagements with Equestrian forces to simply wander away... although all too often, they left hideous, deathless corpses in their wake, more corrupt and monstrous than the worst of Veliuona's revenants.
So now they marched, an army led by three siblings and their unlikely ally, who had chosen - at least for the moment - to follow in Sol's lead. Perhaps this was part of her cunning, however: should they fail,Veliuona could say it was no fault of hers. But Sol knew that failure was not an option at this point: the enemy they faced was monstrous and terrible, and they had no choice but to fight with all their strength and hope to destroy it, utterly and entirely.
Because if they did not, then their enemy would doubtlessly eradicate this entire nation... and that was likely only the beginning of their cruel conquest.
Saturday, 27 December 2014
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: And Meanwhile...
Titan loved his siblings. He adored his older sister, Sol, even if she could be cruel and ruthless and pushed everyone around her far too hard; even when she was at her worst, he saw her best qualities, always shining in her. And he saw that she was only ever so harsh because she was still suffering terribly.
He loved his sisters; his younger sibling, Morgan, tried so hard, poured so much of her heart into taking care of others and looking out for the world, even though it seemed so often like the world wanted nothing to do with her. Her dark powers, after all, struck fear into the hearts of many ponies, and Titan knew that Morgan herself sometimes wondered if one day she would be sealed away or executed, like so many other dark entities they had fought and defeated over the years.
Titan did everything he could for his siblings. He was always there, to make them laugh, or smile, or to do anything else that he could for them. He thought that all they both needed, in their own way, was compassion and understanding: he knew that the world was moved by such things, even if Morgan only ever smiled at him like he was saying something she direly wanted to believe, but couldn't, and Sol simply rolled her eyes and told him that war was won with words and swords, not hugs.
Titan continued to persevere in his beliefs, however: he thought that the entire world could be won over, if only it could be shown a little more love and understanding. And that was why he was good, and gracious, to everypony he met: because of his purehearted want for the entire world to be one big place of friendship and happiness. Because he believed that even beasts could be tamed by love and understanding better than they could by whips and chains.
There was nothing that Titan wouldn't do for his sisters, and even a stranger, Titan would give the world to. Should an enemy cry for mercy, Titan would give it to them, freely and without any strings attached; should an enemy ask for help, Titan would help them, with kindness and love in his heart. For all his strength, and his grand title of the Horse of Stone, Titan's heart was anything but hard: there was no purer hero, nor any more worthy of adulation and respect for the mercy and the compassion that Titan always worked to show.
And that, perhaps, was why Titan was selected as a go-between by Sol: he would travel happily to Veliuona's camp, making conversation with the living dead as readily as he did with any normal pony. He also worked to keep the peace between the armies of the living and the dead, saying that they had a much greater foe to fight, and that as of now, they were all friends, and allies.
Yet Titan also was no fool: he saw the living dead, and studied Veliuona's armies. He read the runes scrawled upon their bones and noted the formations that her soldiers took in combat. He memorized what he saw of their training, and took note of who the commanders were, and how they bedecked themselves. He knew that one day, perhaps, they would be enemies, and they would be forced to do battle.
And all the same, Titan did not merely watch, but sometimes assisted: he corrected training errors, even knowing such skills could be used against him in the future. He helped repair their weapons and their armor, and taught the smith skills they could use to better edge their blades, and strengthen their shields. And he showed them how unity, and teamwork, could bring down even the strongest of aggressors... and reminded the living dead that their numbers would always be their greatest strength, so the better they learned to harness their hordes, the stronger they would be.
Titan taught, and aided, even as he watched and kept the peace, because Titan did not merely see monsters who could one day be enemies. Titan saw only what he had always seen, when he placed his eyes upon another: his fellow pony.
He loved his sisters; his younger sibling, Morgan, tried so hard, poured so much of her heart into taking care of others and looking out for the world, even though it seemed so often like the world wanted nothing to do with her. Her dark powers, after all, struck fear into the hearts of many ponies, and Titan knew that Morgan herself sometimes wondered if one day she would be sealed away or executed, like so many other dark entities they had fought and defeated over the years.
Titan did everything he could for his siblings. He was always there, to make them laugh, or smile, or to do anything else that he could for them. He thought that all they both needed, in their own way, was compassion and understanding: he knew that the world was moved by such things, even if Morgan only ever smiled at him like he was saying something she direly wanted to believe, but couldn't, and Sol simply rolled her eyes and told him that war was won with words and swords, not hugs.
Titan continued to persevere in his beliefs, however: he thought that the entire world could be won over, if only it could be shown a little more love and understanding. And that was why he was good, and gracious, to everypony he met: because of his purehearted want for the entire world to be one big place of friendship and happiness. Because he believed that even beasts could be tamed by love and understanding better than they could by whips and chains.
There was nothing that Titan wouldn't do for his sisters, and even a stranger, Titan would give the world to. Should an enemy cry for mercy, Titan would give it to them, freely and without any strings attached; should an enemy ask for help, Titan would help them, with kindness and love in his heart. For all his strength, and his grand title of the Horse of Stone, Titan's heart was anything but hard: there was no purer hero, nor any more worthy of adulation and respect for the mercy and the compassion that Titan always worked to show.
And that, perhaps, was why Titan was selected as a go-between by Sol: he would travel happily to Veliuona's camp, making conversation with the living dead as readily as he did with any normal pony. He also worked to keep the peace between the armies of the living and the dead, saying that they had a much greater foe to fight, and that as of now, they were all friends, and allies.
Yet Titan also was no fool: he saw the living dead, and studied Veliuona's armies. He read the runes scrawled upon their bones and noted the formations that her soldiers took in combat. He memorized what he saw of their training, and took note of who the commanders were, and how they bedecked themselves. He knew that one day, perhaps, they would be enemies, and they would be forced to do battle.
And all the same, Titan did not merely watch, but sometimes assisted: he corrected training errors, even knowing such skills could be used against him in the future. He helped repair their weapons and their armor, and taught the smith skills they could use to better edge their blades, and strengthen their shields. And he showed them how unity, and teamwork, could bring down even the strongest of aggressors... and reminded the living dead that their numbers would always be their greatest strength, so the better they learned to harness their hordes, the stronger they would be.
Titan taught, and aided, even as he watched and kept the peace, because Titan did not merely see monsters who could one day be enemies. Titan saw only what he had always seen, when he placed his eyes upon another: his fellow pony.
Thursday, 18 December 2014
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Shade And Shadow
Sol had taught Morgan that all darkness was darkness. That evil powers, even if used for good, were nonetheless evil. That the magic of corruption and shadow, even when used for the brightest purpose, was all the same still the stuff of terror and destruction, and it could not be excused. That even if evil was used or tricked into serving a good purpose, it all the same was still evil, and still deserved to be pushed out or punished or sealed away, once its purpose was complete.
Morgan was aware that many of her powers were of darkness and shadow. And she knew that she excelled most in arts that were considered to be that of cowards and the wicked. That her powers stemmed from the night, and from evil. Sol had taught her that she could bind these powers, and use these abilities for the greater good... but also that one day, she would have to learn to contain all this evil inside herself.
Darkness could serve a purpose, though: that was what Morgan truly believed. And sometimes, when she looked past the blind love and devotion she had to Sol, and when she listened to Titan, who gave her love and encouragement and spoke of balance in all things, and that evil and shadow had their own purpose in the world... she thought that her darkness was something different. That perhaps there was not evil, and evil alone, but darkness came in different shades, and shadows.
As she studied under Veliuona, she found herself feeling a strange amiability with her. An almost eerie understanding of the goddess, as a matter of fact: there was honesty in the words of the Goddess of Cursed Shades when she spoke of her empire, of wanting to protect her countless servants and minions. Except she spoke more of them than simply as her minions as well, and somehow that resonated with Morgan: the way she spoke about her Velites was not merely as some great goddess who was amused by her cult of fanatics, but with an almost maternal pride.
Veliuona said they were not so different, and Morgan did not like that she was forced to agree. They were both creatures of darkness... and yet Veliuona showed more compassion for her deathless servants than Morgan had seen the forces of the light show for their own citizens, be they foal or fierce warrior. Perhaps the darkness could be more than suffocating... it could embrace, as well. It was capable of love, a love that the light would either never understand.
Shade, and shadow: different aspects, different depths of darkness. Just as order could kill and suffocate, just as she had learned that the laws of the land were sometimes not used to pursue justice, but instead to aid prejudice and blind hatred... couldn't the darkness be used for good? Couldn't this deepest, most terrible of sins and evils, this black magic she was learning... be used to protect, and maybe even help those who were suffering, to protect others?
Morgan wanted to believe that she was right. And it made her all too willing a student to a goddess all too eager to teach her new disciple how best to harness her powers of the night.
Morgan was aware that many of her powers were of darkness and shadow. And she knew that she excelled most in arts that were considered to be that of cowards and the wicked. That her powers stemmed from the night, and from evil. Sol had taught her that she could bind these powers, and use these abilities for the greater good... but also that one day, she would have to learn to contain all this evil inside herself.
Darkness could serve a purpose, though: that was what Morgan truly believed. And sometimes, when she looked past the blind love and devotion she had to Sol, and when she listened to Titan, who gave her love and encouragement and spoke of balance in all things, and that evil and shadow had their own purpose in the world... she thought that her darkness was something different. That perhaps there was not evil, and evil alone, but darkness came in different shades, and shadows.
As she studied under Veliuona, she found herself feeling a strange amiability with her. An almost eerie understanding of the goddess, as a matter of fact: there was honesty in the words of the Goddess of Cursed Shades when she spoke of her empire, of wanting to protect her countless servants and minions. Except she spoke more of them than simply as her minions as well, and somehow that resonated with Morgan: the way she spoke about her Velites was not merely as some great goddess who was amused by her cult of fanatics, but with an almost maternal pride.
Veliuona said they were not so different, and Morgan did not like that she was forced to agree. They were both creatures of darkness... and yet Veliuona showed more compassion for her deathless servants than Morgan had seen the forces of the light show for their own citizens, be they foal or fierce warrior. Perhaps the darkness could be more than suffocating... it could embrace, as well. It was capable of love, a love that the light would either never understand.
Shade, and shadow: different aspects, different depths of darkness. Just as order could kill and suffocate, just as she had learned that the laws of the land were sometimes not used to pursue justice, but instead to aid prejudice and blind hatred... couldn't the darkness be used for good? Couldn't this deepest, most terrible of sins and evils, this black magic she was learning... be used to protect, and maybe even help those who were suffering, to protect others?
Morgan wanted to believe that she was right. And it made her all too willing a student to a goddess all too eager to teach her new disciple how best to harness her powers of the night.
Friday, 12 December 2014
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Night Magic
Morgan followed Veliuona into her encampment on the second night of the Goddess' visit. She shivered as her paladin strode nervously behind her... but it was not fear of either Veliouna or her countless thralls. It was discomfort at the strangest sense of familiarity she felt as she walked into this conclave of the dead.
The young paladin, of course, was far less comfortable. He was terrified of the undead abominations, fearful of what they would do, revolted by how they looked and acted. And at the same time, there was a bitterness in him, a jealousy of his beloved as she walked with her head high in the wake of the great and terrible creature striding ahead of them, who seemed to know no fear of the dead world around her or the things that lurked within it.
Veliuona took Morgan to her tent, then halted here: she invited the mare inside, but told the stallion to wait, or to leave. Morgan smiled, and tried to encourage him, reassuring him that the dead would not harm him and he could leave if he so desired.
The words had not even left her mouth when the stallion fled, to the laughter of Veliuona... and to the frustration of Morgan. Certainly, she did not hold his fear against him... but all the same, she had expected at least a goodbye, or for him to leave with as much boldness as he had first entered the camp... not that he had been very bold at all, she reflected.
Morgan turned towards Veliuona, and the goddess seemed to see her unhappiness on her face, as she mocked that her thralls knew no such fear. She bragged of their loyalty, and their superiority, but was cut short by Morgan's angry interjection that they were also soulless, mindless, worthless abominations.
But Veliuona was not angered: no, as a matter of fact, she was pleased. For while Morgan spoke the Sun Warrior's words, it was only parroting. In her eyes, and upon her heart, she saw written very different things. And likewise, Veliuona tasted something further, too: interest, however unwilling Morgan was to admit it. For were the undead not fascinating in their own way? Was not there something romantic in creatures who had not just died for you, but now continued to serve, to love, to fight in your name after the warriors of every other nation had long given in to the eternal slumber?
Veliuona smiled at Morgan, then asked her what she would prefer to learn: to banish the dead, or to summon them to her aid.
Morgan opened her mouth to answer... and yet couldn't form the words. She knew what Sol would want her to say, what Sol would want her to do... and yet, as Veliuona smiled at her, she also knew what she wanted to truly learn. What truly compelled her, and called to her.
And before she knew it, she had spoken her answer... and it was a lesson Veliuona would be all too happy to teach.
The young paladin, of course, was far less comfortable. He was terrified of the undead abominations, fearful of what they would do, revolted by how they looked and acted. And at the same time, there was a bitterness in him, a jealousy of his beloved as she walked with her head high in the wake of the great and terrible creature striding ahead of them, who seemed to know no fear of the dead world around her or the things that lurked within it.
Veliuona took Morgan to her tent, then halted here: she invited the mare inside, but told the stallion to wait, or to leave. Morgan smiled, and tried to encourage him, reassuring him that the dead would not harm him and he could leave if he so desired.
The words had not even left her mouth when the stallion fled, to the laughter of Veliuona... and to the frustration of Morgan. Certainly, she did not hold his fear against him... but all the same, she had expected at least a goodbye, or for him to leave with as much boldness as he had first entered the camp... not that he had been very bold at all, she reflected.
Morgan turned towards Veliuona, and the goddess seemed to see her unhappiness on her face, as she mocked that her thralls knew no such fear. She bragged of their loyalty, and their superiority, but was cut short by Morgan's angry interjection that they were also soulless, mindless, worthless abominations.
But Veliuona was not angered: no, as a matter of fact, she was pleased. For while Morgan spoke the Sun Warrior's words, it was only parroting. In her eyes, and upon her heart, she saw written very different things. And likewise, Veliuona tasted something further, too: interest, however unwilling Morgan was to admit it. For were the undead not fascinating in their own way? Was not there something romantic in creatures who had not just died for you, but now continued to serve, to love, to fight in your name after the warriors of every other nation had long given in to the eternal slumber?
Veliuona smiled at Morgan, then asked her what she would prefer to learn: to banish the dead, or to summon them to her aid.
Morgan opened her mouth to answer... and yet couldn't form the words. She knew what Sol would want her to say, what Sol would want her to do... and yet, as Veliuona smiled at her, she also knew what she wanted to truly learn. What truly compelled her, and called to her.
And before she knew it, she had spoken her answer... and it was a lesson Veliuona would be all too happy to teach.
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