They come. One by one by one they all came, and each and every one of them would fall. The Blood King would play their game, he would toy and permit them to believe victory but they would soon see his how great he was. Even being able to gaze upon him was a privilege to the prey that lurked down in their little caves! First of them was a disgusting hornless who spews out threats. A loud laugh erupted from his frame. “Come out and fight me coward. Come out and hold true to those words you proclaim.” He stepped closer and leaned in, just at the edge of the pit, making an effort to waft his vile breath into the pale one’s face.

Shortly after the pale one came a mare shrouded in darkness. At least this one was blessed with a horn. One that would be worthy of servitude, and one that was willing to defend this abyss they hid in. Just as the dark mare came a second one erupted from the cave at him. Before he could give any reaction to the second rodent, the first one struck the sword directly in the center of his broad chest. A loud roar erupted from his lips, mimicking the agony he should’ve felt at such a blow. Perhaps it would drive home a sense of guilt to the weak-hearted. The Blood King may be a mere shroud of the proud soldier that lay buried beneath the layers of death and decay, but his mind and body still had that of a disciplined warrior. Two stubborn mares wouldn’t defeat him so easily.

Déodat felt the other mare strike at his shoulder and he fleet himself stumble slightly and barely managed to avert the bite. As she drew close, the Blood King outstretched both his wings with great force in hopes of striking the brown mare that drew close. “It will take more than that rodents to defeat me!” All along, he hadn’t noticed the fourth figure to appear. When the voice called, his gaze snapped to the one adorned in armor. Whatever he had called out to the mares had gone over his undead head. Around him a violent sandstorm began to brew and with it came gold. What!? His eyes turned to the winged stallion.

“Of course a skyrat would stoop to cheap parlor tricks. You’re no better than the fool that lingers in the cave.” The Blood King screamed. He knew there would be no point in flying with the harsh winds around him. In the back of his wicked mind, that remnant of mortality was laughing and rejoicing for it knew what was coming, and so did the monster. A roar of rage filled the air around him as he saw the gold begin to form around him. “ALL OF YOU WILL FALL TO DARKNESS! THERE IS NO RUNNING FROM FATE!” Those were his final words as the sphere solidified. Now he was trapped. It wasn’t supposed to end this way. He was supposed to rule them all. The Blood King wasn’t capable of grief, only malice and rage. Just as he always seemed to, Déodat had failed even in the body of something supernatural, and ironically enough, it was the skyrats that caused it all.

The Blood King had fallen. The pathetic mortals that should’ve been groveling at his feet had defeated him in a matter of moments.

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