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There exists a tale of old that tells of The Equinox Kingdom. Once surrounded by scenic sunsets and lush forests, it stood high and proud at the very top of a mountain. Or the story would have you believe, for there is no longer proof or belief Equinox was a real place to begin with.
Along with this myth came an alicorn, so timid and uncertain many had a hard time believing he was truly the one creature responsible for the creation and changes of the season and a king.
There were no survival accounts of the Kingdom’s livelihood and architecture, not even a certain time as to when all of this happened, so with Equinox there wasn’t much to go off of. There were, however, some general consensus as to how King Blues might’ve looked. The mythical creator of the seasons was said to be a tall, quite towering, alicorn with a furry coat of white; but that’s as far as researchers have agreed upon, for everything else down to his mane and the cutie mark he bore was on the table.
It was a myth, after all, nothing more than a story sometimes exaggerated or downplayed; recounted so many times it’s believability became legends of old or campfire stories to tell.
It’s better this way, King Blues thought, facing the open book titled The Equinox Mystery with a intrigued look in his eyes, yet still somewhat afraid. The King dared to turn the book’s next page over, the following words that greeted him were akin to an unfriendly bump to his shoulder.
‘Who Was King Hollow?’ His eyes, turning into the hues of a reddish sunset sky, ogled at the words slapped across the tinged pages. ‘ And Who Is Responsible For The Kingdom’s Downfall?’ It was a mouthful of words to read alone, but every bit of his memories were summoned by it. His Kingdom still stood, but as a hollow husk of what it once was —
Although nature has reclaimed most of the kingdom, damage from the battle long ago was still visible nonetheless from the very ground you stood. The houses of marbles and stone, abandoned in a rush, half standing and others completely gone — statues of long gone heroes and princes and princesses all stood in varying stages of destruction, his parents’, and with his own having been completely decapitated and a wing blasted off.
His statue’s lack of head was what started the first attack from King Hollow. He was born of King Blues’ insecurities and the deliberating fear of losing control of his powers— He allowed King Hollow to become his own malevolent creature seeking nothing but to destroy life on Equestria as is and King Blues had never stopped beating himself about it. Not even if it’s been centuries since then.
The King’s failure is the reason for The Equinox Kingdom’s secrecy. After King Hollow was defeated and banished for who knows how long until his reappearance, King Blues ordered for the entire for Equinox’s evacuation. It took some time, but King Blues saw to himself that every last resident of his kingdom would find a stable home and job elsewhere. Ponyville, The Crystal Kingdom, Canterlot — Anywhere safer than Equinox. Once the Kingdom was emptied of its last members, King Blues retreated into the ruins of his castle and used his magic to hide the once thriving Equinox from any curious adventure seekers and the former residents themselves. It was a desperate attempt to prevent history from going around the table, dooming itself to repeat, for if no one knew how to seek this real myth King Hollow’s return would be faced with less casualties.
At some point, while he was very much aware of his spacing out, he wasn’t of the trembling book threatening to rip from the raw emotion the magic of his horn’s glowing magic. The tears that matted at his fur and the gentle pecks of his bird companions and insistent squawks and chirps are what finally snapped him out of it. King Blues willed the trembling magic of his horn to dissipate, prompting the book to fall from its momentary hover, back down to the floor and land closed.
The weight of his wings at his side were flared out, alerted and ready for a flight or fight, his heartbeat was fast and uneven leaping up into his throat, and his labored breathing wasn’t helping either. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to focus on drilling his breathing and the comforting chirps and pecks of his bird friends.
“I’m okay.” King Blues reassured both his bird friends and himself, trembling as he forced his way to stand. “I’ll be okay. I have to.” He said through a big exhale, the breath coming out in a puff of wintry coldness. He should sleep, of this he knows, but the night was so far off near dawn he couldn’t afford sleep— nor did he want to.
He may be a mythical urban legend now lifetimes later, but that didn’t mean he ever abandoned his duties as king and the sole purpose of his creation. He sighed again, the breath coming out at a more regulated temperature. “Please, my friends,” King Blues looks to the many birds around him and gives them a smile of comfort — He himself was uncertain, but to let his lovely friends worry over him was not his desire. “Do not fret over me, I’ll be alright. Take your needed rests, little ones.”
The birds weren’t a hundred percent convinced, still concerned as to their caretaker and friend’s health, but did as told. The Phoenix would let them know if anything was awry. For the moment they let King Blues stroll upstairs back to his bedroom, where instead of allowing himself to collapse on his bed he flopped down on a cushion and banged his jaw against the mirror table.
The alicorn that stared at him back in the mirror was exhausted and stained with tears, his short blond summer’s mane growing into a longer mess and changing like to red like the leaves in fall, as the time for summer to make way for autumn approached. He lifted his head back to his neck’s full length and shook it, kicking himself for not focusing on the matter at his hooves. “Focus, Blues.” He rubbed the exhaustion and drowsiness from his eyes, shuffling around with his free hoof around the desk’s drawers. “Where’s the list.. Ah. Here.”
He lowers both his hooves to the ground and takes a rolled up list from the drawer. He unwinds the bow’s work and hums as he read through the list of places just about ready to welcome in autumn. Cloudsdale was the trickiest one of all, since they kept perfect weather up there and to this day King Blues could not predict what the pegasi desired, so his birds had to make trips with each Season’s Welcome to Cloudsdale and keep their eyes on them to get a clue. Sometimes it was easy, other times not, but that’s the beauty of it.
It seems that distracting himself with the passions of his purposes gets his mind off things, as soon the sun begins to filter through window curtains and the mentioned phoenix from before wakes after keeping a close eye on his caretaker.
He’d stayed at that desk for about one and a half hours the phoenix came to know as King Blues told him of today’s work. Currently though, King Blues and his phoenix strolled through the pristine gardens in the back, one of the many places untouched by the battle and taken care off years and years later. The pair sat in a patch of shade under a great big oak tree in the center of the garden, papers in the hold of King Blues’ magic.
“The nearest kingdoms and towns are all ready for autumn’s coming, now, so tomorrow should be alright for its welcome.” King Blues looked over to the phoenix resting on his back, a far calmer smile plastered across the timid king’s snout. “You told me the neighboring critters have prepared for their hibernation already, yes?”
The phoenix chirped in confirmation and King Blues nodded, thanking her for her endless amounts of help. “I appreciate your helping wing, Sunny.” At that, King Blues saw her brim and puff her feathers with pride and happy little singsong chirps. It brought a chuckle to the king, who nuzzled his muzzle against the bird’s head gently. “Rest if you must, friend.” He did keep the poor thing up for most of the night, it’s the least he could do. Sunny chirped her response and took flight, off into the castle through Blues’ open window high above.
After that King Blues worked in relative silence, speaking every now and then to the chattering animals around him where he went, but aside from that the clinks and steps of his armored hoof and shuffles of papers are what kept him out of the complete silence department. It’s not until the approaching evening that King Blues’ lack of was catching up with him and frankly quite badly.
The alicorn couldn’t keep his heavy eyelids open and his eyes kept flossing over items and words, continuously nodding off. It took him banging his face against the wall for the king to finally get the hint that just maybe he needed a nap, he thought quite embarrassingly as he rubbed his aching snout. Well. He was on the castle’s main bottom floor where the living room was so, if he hoped to not just straight up pass out on the stairs, Blues trotted on over to the cold room.
When he used his magic to light the fireplace, the room was casted in an ominous shadow that just vaguely reminded him of King Hollow — The fact he’d left the book in here too, and didn’t realize this until just now, made that thought worse. Once more his horn shines in an ever changing glow and the book levitates off the cushioned seats, proceeding to be stored away into the nearby bookshelf. He laid where the book previously took its place and folded his legs over one another, using them as a makeshift pillow.
In King Blues’ drifting mind, he allows himself to think about King Hollow. The kinder of the two would like to think that the meaner was capable of change, but deep down Blues knew that was impossible as Hollow made it extremely and painfully clear. It’s not that he couldn’t change, Hollow just did not desire to make peace and coexist — The alicorn did not want harmony, he wanted discordance. King Blues vowed to keep his evil at bay even if it meant his own life would be taken, because if that’s what it took to keep Equestria safe from harm then he would.
It’s at this point in his mind that King Blues hears a sound somewhere around him. It sounded oddly distant yet close enough to make his ears twitch and wake him from his slumber, only to find himself in a patch of grass surrounded by big tall pines and trees, setting peach-orange skies washing over his face to bid him farewell. This wouldn’t be a problem if he had decided to trot out his kingdom and take a late evening nap on the outskirts of Equinox.
With great confusion rising, that’s stomped out with vigor by the noise from before. He couldn’t identify where they were coming from, but he could accurately tell it was the flapping of approaching wings. This alerted him, prompting his own wings to shoot out from his body and stand at his full towering height — He wouldn’t usually have a reaction like this to the mere flapping of wings, but he had a pretty good idea whose wings those were and panic was soon to take him and freeze him in place if he didn’t brace himself.
From the darkness of approaching clouds, shot out a lanky figure with a stark white mane and whipping tail lashing out behind him. His coal coat shone under the fading light, and his feathered bat wings whisked clouds every which way as he hovered in place. “Dear Blues,” He spoke, kind in that teeth-baring way. “Haven’t seen you in so long! Look at you, you haven’t changed a bit!”
“What are you doing here?” King Blues sounded more afraid than he would’ve liked to sound, but he swallowed that down and weakly glared at the gliding figure. King Hollow landed inches from his spot, the cold wintry clouds keeping behind him with their own space.
“Why. Not even a hello to an old pal?” Mocking offense, King Hollow set a hoof up to his forehead and wailed in a weird quiet sneer. “What a rude thing you are! Where are your proper manners, Blues?”
“Hollow. I know you’re not here just to drop by for a visit,” Just muttering the implication behind those words made his own lanky legs tremble. He kept his voice as composed as he could, regardless, and gulped down again as his throat became increasingly dry. “You haven’t reared your head in the lifetimes since your banishment. What are you up to?”
“You can’t be that foolish.” King Hollow dropped his friendly act, but the worryingly happy smile of sharp teeth and striking white eyes did not make the unnerving friendly act go away completely. “You know well why I’m here. You know you couldn’t keep me away forever, Blues.”
“No, I know I couldn’t, but I hoped just a little bit you’d decide against your plans.”
“I am born of your fears.” King Hollow folded his wings, trotting up to the cowering and timid king. He took his hoof and put it up against Blues’ chin, lifting it up. They were the same height— on account of being the same being— but King Blues has shrunk in on himself at some point. “Your insecurities, most of all, but your worries that you’d turn into a vile creature should give you a hint I’d never stray from my goals.”
King Blues remained silent for a bit, and never made proper eye contact, or movement at all after that, fearing even a swish of his tail would set off King Hollow’s ‘patience’. King Blues kicks himself everyday for allowing a creature to be born into a being whose only goal is to drain living things of their life that would set them into eternal slumber.
King Blues knew exactly what he was here for, as a start to his whole drainage and conquering of Equestria, and he had to think fast.
“Hollow?”
“What is it?”
“You have something on your face.”
“What’re y—“
King Blues yanked his chin away from the not so gentle hold of King Hollow and headbutted his counterpart, mindful of both of their horns, then used the gust of his wings propelling him up into the air to knock King Hollow back onto the floor. The further he flew up into the air, the more distant the angered screeches of King Hollow became but never fully gone — He couldn’t just run away from King Hollow. That wouldn’t fix anything, as if the brewing wintry cold storm below him wasn’t enough to go off of.
Like King Blues’ sadness manifested in coldness, King Hollow’s anger manifested in much the same way. The last time he’d shrouded The Equinox Kingdom in a powerful winter storm, today he’d shrouded the forest below in a rumbling shroud of lightning crackles and the distinct formations of hail. Then, the speedily approaching form of Hollow bursting through the dark clouds.
Completely unaffected by the lightning and hail, he sped forward to King Blues who just narrowly dodged King Hollow’s brandished horn. Oh no.
“We don’t have to do this, King Hollow! Listen to reason—“
“ No! ” He halted in his flight, twirling around to face the goody two shoes. “I am everything you could’ve been and I won’t let you lay waste to such potential I pose! I just need your powers.”
King Hollow’s horn glinted and shimmered with the transparent, white-ish magic. One of Hollow’s greatest, and most horrible abilities, was the drainage of a living thing’s force. It could put them in eternal slumber, giving Hollow ample fear to feed off of but he needed Blues’ abilities of which he could steadily drain for years and years and never get enough of. King Blues really wanted to avoid this, there wasn’t any need for more battles and wounds, but King Hollow was stubborn and barely gave King Blues a chance to speak out.
The following fight wasn’t really a fight. It was more of a goose chase with Blues fruitlessly trying to speak reason into Hollow, who kept charging and throwing magic blasts at him. King Blues threw his on here and there — but never aimed for other than a simple small injury to which make King Hollow stop. It couldn’t have gone on for more than ten minutes, but maybe it did, time was a mystery in times like these.
However much time passed was swiftly put to a stop when King Hollow buried himself away in the clouds, leaving King Blues to look and hover and shift around like a confused bee unknowingly trapped in a plastic cup. Some short moments later, when he faced the many clouds he’d turned away from, he saw King Hollow just inches from himself. His horn wasn’t through his chest and heart like a stab, but the magic did, to drain and put him in the dangerous slumber. It didn’t hurt, either, it was just a tiring sensation.
King Hollow had said something King Blues was already far too gone to hear but he could picture the bared fangs in that horrible and triumphant grin before he faded into the dark.
When King Blues awoke he was a heaving and sweating, trembling mess, his now reddish eyes staring wide into the fireplace he remembers falling asleep in front of. He was still here in the castle, cozying around the warmth of his cushions in the damaged and old living room after having woken from what he tried to to hope was a nightmare.
King Blues knew the signs, though, and that wasn’t a nightmare brought on by his reading of the book yesterday that sent him spiraling down old memories. No, no — That would’ve been the better results.
He didn’t want to admit it, never mind accept the fact he’d have to come out of hiding and seek aid, for it was a premonition.