They all surged around him. He felt his horn stick into something, and it felt soft, fleshy – it was not the darkness, the monster, but a Pegasus, the unruly girl. He continued on, blind with his haste, with his determination, pushing past the dark form of the winged girl whose nape he had stabbed. His hooves grew heavy, his legs dragged, he moved a step, another… Then he felt them, the others, using their magic, all around him. He felt them engage with this beast in a tournament of sorcery and incantation, and he felt the darkness before them react and recoil, tense and work itself up. No.. it was a thought, a reaction, that he wasn’t even able to voice before the explosion happened. Pain travelled across his face, down his neck, and bit deep into his skin. He felt it, the infection, the darkness, the curse, it wanted to taint his blood, his body – now the taint of darkness would be evident upon even his youthful true bodice, for such injuries would not likely depart without leaving a lingering scar, a reminder. And all for what?

Somehow, he knew he was standing on all fours again, the force of the blast having knocked him sideways, and as he processed the pain of his face, he realised he was blinking.. He could feel the movement of his eyelids closing, painful and slow as it was, but he could see nothing, not the shadowy copse of trees that surrounded them, not the darkness nor even the lightness of those around him. All his senses were numb – a dull, hollow ringing repeated itself in his ears, and then, when he tried to move his limbs, he simply, could not. He could feel nothing, nothing besides the pain, the burning, the torturous suffering. His lungs burned within his chest, for he could not inhale, nor exhale, the air within was growing stale and stagnant, poisoned like the rest of him.

What am I doing?

The silence of his senses allowed his thoughts to run wild, his self-doubts, self-loathing and muted awareness of the curse within him and surrounding him all convoluted into a single oppressing force. His brow creased as a frown deepened upon his Spanish façade – and he realised, slowly, he was able to move that little bit more, piece by piece, a flick of an ear, a blink of an eye, a twitch of his tail. Suddenly his lungs were flooded with air again, suddenly overwhelmed with oxygen – tainted still, by the darkness, by Death, which was determined to linger. Soon enough, the ringing in his ears became sounds he could identify, voices, accompanied by the cruel, rancid tones of this dark magic, this accursed death. As his vision blurred and swam before him, the first thing he beheld was one being swallowed by the tar, the one he had admired before, the maiden with the crimson mane and tail. The darkness crept over her, just as he felt it creeping up his limbs, and in horror he watched as she succumbed, as she bent to the will of the curse, the Death that was being greedy, yearning to possess all of their souls for itself.

No, he said again, to himself, unable to work his tongue to produce the sound. A gurgle, a groan, and he was swaying on feet that were held fast to the ground, to the tar, the darkness beneath. “NO!” he shouted this time, but who he was denying was anyone’s guess. The fading, echoing words of the doe rang in his ears, somewhere in his consciousness, but otherwise all he saw, all he registered and comprehended was death, darkness, destruction. Was he thinking of the egg? No, he was thinking of the curse that was within him, the darkness that would consume him if he didn’t move. Feathers against his side alerted him to the departure of the bleeding Pegasus girl, and oh, how he wished he had wings at this moment. Muscles bunched and coiled as the nerves reignited along his body, the paralysis fading as with a snarl Kirottu’s attention drifted back to the demon that would consume them all.

Selfish is as selfish does? The words mocked him, as they always did, and he growled, deep and angry, determination flaring within him. With a surge of strength, he reared upwards again, wincing at the burn that consumed half of his face and neck. Even his curse had a light half, and he would expose the light that still remained here – the egg, himself.. “I WILL BE YOUR LIGHT!” he bellowed, aiming his horn once more towards the monster, waving his forelegs at it, roaring at the pain that would surely follow from his actions – but pushing onwards with them regardless.

[ 799 words. ]