Misc. Prompts: Knightanon And Ghostmare


                                            PROMPT:

                                            >>https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/35717665/#35726098

                                            >>https://desuarchive.org/mlp/thread/35717665/#35725730


                                            >You look to the small town’s clocktower again, pawing at the dirt with a hoof.

                                            >Two minutes before your escorts are to show up, if they are here.

                                            >If not, you’ll have to face the forest alone.

                                            >This spot, at this time, the townsponies said.

                                            >If they’re here, they’ll always come to help those in need of protection, who stood here and now.

                                            >Who can help but be nervous when such legends were going to help, though?

                                            >Even if he is, well, a he. One of them. The one they called a “knight.”

                                            >You’re not sure if that makes your nerves better or worse.

                                            >The townsfolk were insistent on not flying, and you’d heard enough rumors to believe them on that count.

                                            >Maybe the nerves flow from that; you haven’t been ground-bound since you broke a wing three years ago.

                                            >You stop pawing at the dirt and look down at the furrow you made

                                            >Wow, that was a bit deep.

                                            >Get a hold on yourself.

                                            >Trying to be tough and marely was already hard for you normally, but even moreso now that your momma, the mareliest mare you knew, finds herself in poor health.

                                            >What do you do when your role model’s fading away, before you could live up to her?

                                            >Closing your eyes and trying to center yourself, your hearing picks up on a quieting around you.

                                            >Soon you can hear why.

                                            >Metal on metal, a faint jostling like a thousand tiny chains.

                                            >You open your eyes again, looking toward the sound, and see him.

                                            >Massive. Imposing. Intimidating.

                                            >A monster cloaked in black, the color unbroken but for layers of silver interlocked chainlinks and a white cross on the breast of his closed cape.

                                            >You’ve seen glimpses of the Canterlot palace guards, time to time, ostentatious in their ornate gold, but this armor imparted a wholly different air: This male was not to be trifled with.

                                            >Steady, now. You’ve gotta be a tough mare, even if you can’t fly. You won’t be scared.

                                            >Not even when he stops next to you, looming over you.

                                            >Moving aside a long object hanging from his waist, he lowers himself down on one knee, then bends forward.

                                            >As his cloak parts with the gesture, you can see the chains cover his whole body. You can’t imagine the weight.

                                            >When your gaze shifts to his lowered face, his eyes to the ground, you’re struck by an undeniable feeling

                                            >The monster is kind.

                                            >”At your service.”

                                            >Intimidating as he appeared at his full height, now that he’s at eye level – and not staring directly at you – you feel calmer.

                                            >His face is not as harsh as his garb, though it looks as if it has seen its time.

                                            >Why are you staring? Momma raised you better than that.

                                            “H-hello.”

                                            >He finally lifted his head to look you in the eyes.

                                            >His were gentle, but as if they’d seen too much, more than you can fathom.

                                            >“Do you need more time before we depart?”

                                            “No, no! Just need to, uh…”

                                            >You adjust your wings and look down.

                                            >Nailed to the ground.

                                            >”’Tis a long journey to the next town.”

                                            >You nod.

                                            >”And, I wager, a long time since you’ve walked that far.”

                                            >After a moment’s hesitation you nod again.

                                            >“Nevertheless, you made a wise decision. Too often have I ridden to the aid of those who did not heed the good townsfolks’ word.”

                                            >You look back up at him.

                                            “Did you save them all?”

                                            >He hesitates.

                                            >Those eyes have seen too much.

                                            >Instead, he reaches to his back under his cloak, and brings forth a small medallion, holding it out to you.

                                            >Plain of design, its only feature is a cross shape like on his clothing.

                                            >”Take this.”

                                            >You reach out with a wing, hooking some of your feathers through the dainty chain supporting it.

                                            >As you bring it closer to inspect the design, he speaks.

                                            >”Oh God, who bestowest Thy mercy at all times on them that love Thee, and in no place art distant from those that serve Thee, direct the way of Thy servant in Thy will, that having Thee for her protector and guide, she may walk without stumbling in the paths of righteousness, through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.”

                                            >As you look up to ask what the incantation means, the giant scoops you up – eliciting an unmarely squeak – and places you over his shoulders.

                                            >You have to scramble a bit to get situated as he stands, but you’re now quite high up!

                                            >The altitude makes you feel a bit better already, as does being over, rather than under, your titanic protector.

                                            >Between your botched introduction and that squeal, you’re feeling pretty silly.

                                            >Gotta show him you’re strong, even if you need his help.

                                            “So this thing in the forest is like, a big plant or something?”

                                            >”Something like that.”

                                            “I want to see it.”

                                            >A pause, then, “No you don’t.”

                                            >Oh. Well.

                                            “I… I would avoid it, b-but Momma needs me as soon as possible.”

                                            >A little more adjustment so you’re almost kneeling on his shoulders, rather than pressed against his neck.

                                            “Hey, where’s your, uh, your partner?”

                                            >”You will see her when we leave town.”

                                            >Which would be soon, if the “knight”’s long strides are anything to go by. He’s not moving anywhere near as fast as you can fly, but it’s a brisk pace for ponies who had to go on hoof exclusively.

                                            >Your hoof slips as you try to reposition yourself again, falling behind the shield on his back.

                                            >It brushes something hard between it and his spine, hanging there on chains.

                                            >You touched it for the briefest moment, but it sends a jolt through you, and an image flashed through your mind, too fast to make out anything but a smear of rainbow light.

                                            >You shake your head to clear it, then settle back down on his shoulders.

                                            “What was that incantation? I’m nobody’s servant.”

                                            >”Yours are a noble and just people. Your kind knows not of the Lord, but by your acts, you surely do His work. I am little good with words of the faith, spoken or written, and know even less about the management of a church or chapel, but in my own way I can ensure you and your kind may continue your acts of charity and kindness, as He would like of His own people.”

                                            “Is that why you help us?”

                                            >“By my vow and the purpose of my order, I am pledged to aid pilgrims and travelers. I only continue my service.”

                                            “You sure you don’t need payment? I have a few bits-”

                                            >Beneath you, his shoulders heave with laughter. “The surrounding towns appreciate my service enough to extend generous hospitality. That is all I require.”

                                            >Even as it’s mentioned, his next strides put said town behind you.

                                            >The forest stretches out ahead, looking almost cheerful as you approach it.

                                            >According to rumor, it only gets nasty further in, but even now you already feel your nervousness returning.

                                            >Once the path makes a turn, hiding the town behind foliage, a sudden flash of light blinds you

                                            >Your vision slowly clears to see a beautiful – and terrible – sight before you.

                                            >A pony skeleton, enlarged beyond all reason and stretched in strange and unusual ways, now stands on the path, staring at you.

                                            >Its face is obstructed by a large steel helmet, through which is driven a large golden spike where a unicorn’s horn might have been. Empty sockets are the only darkened part of its form.

                                            >Its body is large compared to its head, the two connected by a very thick neck, the whole ensemble standing on gangly limbs that look like they may have been too thin in life to hold the pony’s weight.

                                            >Horrid though it may seem, this ghastly sight is suffused by and surrounded with a brilliant golden radiance, the warm glow filling out its body, where its flesh would have been on a living example of its kind.

                                            >Its warmth is not just visual; you could feel a gentle heat, with none of the usual pressure of fire. It seeps not just through your hide, but your mind; your nerves once again melt away, replaced with a sublime contentment with the world.

                                            >The Phantom Mare is here. All will be okay. Be unafraid.

                                            >A mare so devoted to her beloved male that she transcended worlds, and death itself rumor holds, to continue to protect him, when he refused to abandon his quest to avenge her demise.

                                            >The golden glow shifts colors as the knight approaches, changing from gold to green, then settling on an azure blue that matched the sky.

                                            >Upon closer inspection, her hide seethes like fire, but no flames lick away from her form, contained within a skin that no longer exists. The only thing that breaks her contour are wispy trails of white light where her mane and tail would be.

                                            >You aren’t a unicorn, but you wonder if this is what a creature of pure magic might look like.

                                            >The knight places you on the phantom’s back, leaving you floating on that bound fire hovering over her visible vertebrae between her shoulders.

                                            >Even touching her, the heat is still a gentle permeating warmth, and her ‘skin’ feels like a normal coat.

                                            >The knight climbs on her back behind her. ”Please do not get off until we have cleared the forest,” the mare speaks.

                                            >Though the sound comes from her mouth, it feels like it bounces around the inside of your head a couple times before you really absorb it.

                                            >It’s the mareliest voice you’ve ever heard. You’re no liplicker but that’s an incredible commanding timbre.

                                            >You look down through the swirling mass of light beneath you.

                                            >No, no lungs there to call powerful.

                                            >You can see clear through her ribcage to where the knights’ legs straddle her barrel, and even that giant’s legs are barely long enough to end below it.

                                            >It’s at this moment you realize you’re dwarfed by the bulk of this mare. A dozen ponies can fit in her trunk alone. Well, maybe a bit cramped, but still.

                                            >On one wing, you’re still not sure why she’s willing to let the male near danger. On the other wing, you wonder why he even thinks he needs all that armor with her around.

                                            >The three of you lurch into motion, the mare’s long, spindly legs starting rough but easily falling into a smooth and graceful gait.

                                            “So what’s your name?”

                                            >“You may call me Tavi,” the mare says without looking back.

                                            >”Oh, like Octavia? I knew a filly by that name once, she went to my school for a time. Wanted to become a musician.”

                                            >The knight behind you chuckles as the phantom shakes her head, the wisps of light of her mane passing through your body with a not unpleasant tingling sensation. “A noble name, but not mine. I hope your friend realized her dream.”

                                            “I don’t know, we fell out of touch when she moved away.”

                                            >Talking to the mare is easier than you expected, you realized.

                                            >Her incredible size is less daunting and more comforting, and the skeletal aspects of her appearance, the literal skeleton, draw less attention than the swirling patterns of her body, even with the vertebrae of her neck right in front of your face.

                                            >It felt almost like you were a little filly again, carried on your father’s back in the sky, during those first stages of learning how to fly.

                                            >You extend your wings, just as pegasi foals do when first trying to discover how the air feels at those speeds.

                                            >The knight tenses behind you, but relaxes when he realizes you’re not about to fly away.

                                            >Tavi, on the other hand, looks back over her shoulder at you.

                                            >That one empty eye socket is dark and deep as night, unlike the rest of her body.

                                            >Really deep. Like you’re falling in.

                                            >Maybe one place she’s not nice to look at.

                                            >Her voice, however, remains soothing. “Do you seek the wind?”

                                            >After a moment, you nod meekly.

                                            >”Then we shall deliver it.”

                                            >In an instant, she’s galloping, blasting down the forest path faster than you’ve ever dared dart between trees.

                                            >The knight’s leaning forward now, over your body. He isn’t even phased.

                                            >You pitch your outstretched wings down sharply as you feel your weight decreasing, your body starting to lift up. The action shoves you firmly down onto Tavi’s back.

                                            >Slowly you ease up on the angle again, finding that perfect spot where you’re floating but not floating away.

                                            >It was just like this in your memories, still like this in your dreams.

                                            >The warm body below you, carrying you, the wind through your-

                                            >An odd weight on one wing.

                                            >You look to your left to see the medallion, still on its chain pinned under your alula.

                                            >You transfer it to your hooves, then around your neck, before stretching out your wings again.

                                            >Between the warmth underneath you, the cool air flowing over your wings, and a head full of childhood memories, you find yourself being lulled to sleep.


                                            * * *


                                            >You awake to a gentle pressure on your back.

                                            >The knight has his hand over you, though he withdraws it as soon as you stir.

                                            >Your wings are still extended, even through your sleep, but you fold them away after a stretch and a yawn. No more wind through them anyway; Tavi’s walking now.

                                            >Beneath you, her body now glows gold again, no longer the blue of the sky.

                                            >”You wanted to see it.”

                                            >His tone is flat, and almost chill enough to counter Tavi’s warmth.

                                            >He lifts an arm to the left, the bulk of his shield on it, towards what looks like a massive bush of vines

                                            >The vines are moving.

                                            >Writhing, snaking through each other in a huge mass occupying a great pit in the woods, surrounded by dead trees.

                                            >You can make out brown or pale forms, broken up and scattered, at the edges of the pit.

                                            >Some arranged in vaguely pony-like shapes.

                                            >Best not look too hard at those.

                                            >“We know not what it is but dangerous. Whatever you do, do not take to wing,” the knight says.

                                            “Will it come after us on the ground?”

                                            >”Maybe.”

                                            >You feel your heart drop as a shadow falls over you; the massive shield protecting you from that side.

                                            >Alright, you’ve seen the thing.

                                            >Curiosity and pride; satisfied.

                                            >You can leave now.

                                            >Faster, please.

                                            >Tavi’s looking at you again with one empty, soul-sucking socket. “Be unafraid. You are safe with us.”

                                            >Yeah, close your eyes (break away from that yawning socket), just lose yourself in her warmth. Everything will be fine. Everything will be-

                                            >Your eyes snap open again as Tavi suddenly lurches to the left, and the grating of metal on separating wood sounds to your right.

                                            >Your legs are splayed out now, clamping down around Tavi’s back beneath you, your wings down and around her for good measure.

                                            >Looking to your right, the knight swings again, cleaving the end off another vine shooting towards you, and it retracts back underground from whence it came.

                                            >In your peripheral vision, you can see Tavi’s glowing body swirl from gold to orange with one eye, and the knight’s head – face now obscured by a full helmet – turn ever so slightly to the left with your other.

                                            >Then a loud thump behind you pulls your head all the way around to the other side, where the shield’s raised higher than it was before.

                                            >Another thump sounds as, you think, a vine bashes against the shield once more.

                                            >Tavi’s tries to pick up her pace, but through her translucent body you can see vines trying to snake around her legs.

                                            >Every other step stomps on one, causing it to burst into flames briefly, before curling back into cinders then falling apart as ash, but the constant necessity of the act prevents faster forward motion.

                                            >Even if you wanted to flee now, you can’t; fear has glued you to Tavi’s back.

                                            >And somehow, she can sense it. “I have already died once, little one. I cannot die again.”

                                            >The knights blade swinging to your right has become a dance, the steel never stopping its intricate and precise arcs, intercepting every threat off your right side with some time to spare for the left, where his sturdy shield still took blows without fail.

                                            >How many times has he done this, to effortlessly display that level of skill?

                                            >You can no longer see his face, but you can’t imagine it twisted into one of worry or fear.

                                            >Any marely worry is unfounded. This creature could stand beside the Elements and not flinch.

                                            >You pull your head up, off Tavi’s back, trying to see around the knight’s limbs.

                                            >It’s easier to look through Tavi’s body instead, but more alarming; the knight is covered in that chain armor, and you’re not sure Tavi could even be harmed, but it doesn’t help you feel any more protected from those angles.

                                            >There, one of the vines streaking in fast!

                                            >The knight’s shield comes down, deflecting the blow.

                                            >Another comes from above, and his blade’s weave finds a loop through its course, cutting it off before it can harm him.

                                            >Tavi sidesteps a third, which then misses the knight by mere inches, as his shield darts forward to block a fourth.

                                            >That block was slow too, though. As nimble as his blade is, his shield is a lot slower. As synchronized as his and Tavi’s movements are, they’re large targets.

                                            >Even still, his shield still manages to be where it needs to be every time.

                                            >Listening to it, you realize he’s exploiting a pattern

                                            >What happens when the pattern shifts?

                                            >Down, blocked. Above, blade intercepts. Third from the back, Tavi will sidestep, ignore in favor of shield forward for fourth. Blade front-high catching the fifth, shield up and out for the sixth, blade low forward for the seventh, shield low side for the eighth which is also the first, for the left side at least.

                                            >But what about those two vines lurking behind? Are they even...

                                            >No, even through the bouncing on Tavi’s back, you can see they’re creeping to what must be striking positions

                                            >Time feels like it slowed to a crawl.

                                            >The knight’s leaning forward, his blade in front of Tavi, while his shield is held outstretched to the left.

                                            >He probably doesn’t even know they’re coming.

                                            >If you dart out, you can probably knock them off course, but then you’ll be out of the knight’s protective bubble of constantly-shifting steel.

                                            >Worse, you’ll be airborne, and befall whatever horrible fate awaits any pegasus in the sky around this monster.

                                            >But the ghost and the knight will be aware of the new threat, and he’ll be spared this blow.

                                            >They who’ve dedicated their lives to helping others, while you can’t even care for yourself or your momma or-

                                            >By the time you realize the vines have lashed out, you’re already airborne.

                                            >A crisp snap of your wings brings you over the knight’s let arm as it descends – as you knew it would, still following its flowing pattern, though he cries out at your sudden departure – and you jerk them in against your barrel to sail downward.

                                            >Both vines pass over your head, almost crossing, and you thrust your wings out and down, pushing you skyward with all the force you could muster.

                                            >The vines deflect up with your collision, then out and away, knocking off their trajectories even as you roll and tumble head over heels by the impact. The tendrils arc down, overcompensating, and bury themselves in the dirt.

                                            >You regain control and make a tight bank around to try to return to Tavi’s back, her now-red-glowing form so far away.

                                            >Just before you arrive, you see the plant-monster’s bulk has shifted.

                                            >A yawning hole in its wreathing vines has appeared, and just enough light penetrates for you to see inside.

                                            >That’s a lot of spikes.

                                            >The plant’s bulk contracts, and the spikes spew out in your direction.

                                            >You’re not fast enough. There’s no way for you to clear their spreading trajectory, even with the knight stretching his shield behind him, leaning far back to try to save you.

                                            >You close your eyes and bring your wings in, presenting as little area as possible as your death approaches.

                                            >Sorry for the trouble, sir knight, but you wont be getting this traveler to safety.

                                            >Instead of lancing pain, however, you plow into what feels like a wall of feathers.

                                            >When you open your eyes again, you see the spikes stopped in place, reduced to glowing cinders before falling to the ground.

                                            >Before you hit the dirt yourself, you get yourself up under the knight’s arm with two more downbeats of your wings, then drop over Tavi’s shoulders once more, breathing heavily.

                                            >He looks down at you – from looking to the right, so he didn’t see what had just transpired – and quickly covers you with his shield again, returning his attention to his bladework. “Prithee stay here!”

                                            >You’re breathing too hard to reply, trying to get control of your shaking.

                                            >Even with your eyes closed, you can feel your two guardians’ efforts through the mare’s back, by the shifting air as the knight moves, by the sound of wood on metal and metal on wood.

                                            >But not much longer; after a few more harrowing minutes, all falls silent and still, except for Tavi’s now-normal gait.

                                            >You crack an eye open, looking at the knight.

                                            “Is it over?”

                                            >He tilts his helmeted head down at you, though you can’t see his expression within it. “We should be clear of the evil, yes.”

                                            “Will we be out, soon?”

                                            >”We have one more stop to make.”

                                            >He raises his sword ahead, slightly to the right, letting you look over to where he’s pointing before sheathing the blade.

                                            >A cave lies off in the distance, barely visible through the trunks of the trees, growing dense again as you leave the blighted clearing.

                                            >Once there, he dismounts. “I shall return shortly.”

                                            >As he departs, you slump off Tavi’s back, gliding to the ground to sit.

                                            >Your legs are still shaking a bit; hopefully you can steady them on firm land.

                                            >As Tavi watches the knight leave, you look up to study the mare.

                                            >Then have to squint as you notice something strange.

                                            >As with the rest of her body, her head under the helmet is simply a skull. Creepy, but expected.

                                            >The gold spike where a unicorn’s horn would be, however, isn’t just protruding from her skull, it’s penetrating it.

                                            >The base of the skull is absent, allowing you to observe the spike’s other end jutting into her cranium a good six inches.

                                            >Around that inner point floats a slowly spinning golden ring, large enough in diameter to just avoid grazing the inside of her skull.

                                            >Runes adorn both the inside and outside of this ring, glowing bright white, despite Tavi’s coat already having faded through gold back to its apparently normal blue-fire state.

                                            >Before you could make out what the runes might be, an eye opens inside the ring, filling it.

                                            >Staring straight at you.

                                            >To say the eye is “all wrong” is an understatement; it appears perfectly flat, turned on its side, and like it’s flicking between a thousand things at once, even though it’s fixed on you, boring a hole through you with its intensity.

                                            >You back up one step, then two.

                                            >The eye follows you, even as Tavi still looks at the cave.

                                            >Your wings flare out, poised to take off, even as the mare’s voice fills your head once more. “Be not afraid.” This time, a faint chiming, like distant bells, accompanies it.

                                            >She finally turns to you, first looking askance with one empty socket, then with both eyes as her head turns to regard you fully.

                                            >Still that eye looks at you, visible even through her skull and the helmet covering it.

                                            >”Are your wings now spread in challenge, ready to take me as you did that creature before?”

                                            >You shake your head quickly.

                                            >”Heed not your fear, little one, for you have shown courage this day.”

                                            “B-but you can see m-my-”

                                            >”That is how I know it was courage, and not mere foolhardiness. I can see that bravery within you.”

                                            >That ghastly eye finally closes, as if to imply she didn’t need to see any further.

                                            “You saved me. I didn’t have to go out, you would have protected…”

                                            >”That does not diminish your actions.”

                                            >You look at that battered helmet as you try to pull your wings back to your barrel.

                                            “I felt feathers. Were… Are you an alicorn?”

                                            >The phantom is silent for a time, but then a rainbow shimmer appears to either side of her body. Though you can make out the outlines of feathers, you also see the ghostly forms of more eyes, dozens, thousands, or perhaps just one large one within each wing, each like the one within her skull.

                                            >More golden bands float around her hooves, but only in your peripheral vision; when you try to look at them directly, her legs too seem to appear as wings until you look away.

                                            >Her body’s internal fire no longer burns blue, but instead a color you cannot describe, though you get the impression that should you ever touch a flame that burns as that, it would be as cold as ice.

                                            >”No alicorn,” the transformed phantom begins, “but no longer a simple horse, either. I am Meheitavel, in this form returned to one knight as guardian. While he remains in this world, I am a scout, seeking those here who may be worthy.”

                                            >You can’t help but stare, even as those rainbow-translucent wings fold away and vanish, her form returning to normal.

                                            “Worthy of what?”

                                            >She shakes her head and chuckles, again without accompanying chimes. “I know not what. I am merely a servant of a servant. But you, I can see, are worthy.”

                                            >You turn it over in your head, still disbelieving.

                                            >You don’t feel worthy of anything, no matter how brave this mare thinks you are.

                                            >But though this world wouldn’t expect it of a male, the knight helps all he can, and gifted you that medal, with its incantation. A gift like that deserves repayment.

                                            >Maybe there’s something you can do.

                                            “How can I help?”

                                            >Tavi cocks her head. “Help?”

                                            “I haven’t done much with my life, Miss, but if you think I’m worthy, I want to prove it. How can I help?”

                                            >She’s quiet for a moment, before looking back to the cave. Fortunately, the eye inside her head does not return, though you could still see that slowly spinning ring. “To start, do not tell him of my nature. He may suspect, but his gallantry means more for absence of knowledge.”

                                            “I can keep a secret!”

                                            >Another chuckle. “Good. You said something was wrong with your mother? Perhaps I can find something to do about that.”

                                            >The knight emerges from the cave he’d disappeared into, and approaches you. “Stubborn dragoness still doesn’t want to leave. One of these days I’ll drag her out by the tail.”

                                            >You hop up between Tavi’s shoulders just before the knight swings a leg over her back, forcing you to duck.

                                            “Leave?”

                                            >”A cursed forest is no place for an innocent soul, and in this strange world, it seems even dragons may be innocent.”

                                            >You’re not sure why dragons being innocent should be weird, but you put it out of your head as Tavi turns to continue down the path.

                                            >”Lets get you to your destination.”