The Merovingian Principle

Prologue:

The Board Is Set...

The night was calm. The mare gazed up at the sky as the full moon stared coldly out from its place chained high in the heavens. For a moment, as it covered the nightmare around her in a beautiful, silver glow, she imagined it was the eye of God, judging even the hidden sins of His creation. She smirked to herself even as the thought chilled her very soul. He could indeed see everything, and there would be justice for all that she had done. It was just a mater of time.

The intermittent flashes of lightning broke her reverie, and called her attention back to the earth. The anomaly before her should have concerned her, but it didn't. The hole floating in the air was rimed in black runes that seemed to absorb the nearby light, dimming the area around it. The forest on the other side was pristine, stained only by the tempest assaulting it. It was a vaguely familiar forest, too perfect to have been touched by human hands. The Gateway was not what had fascinated her though, it was that storm. The chaos of the gale contrasted disconcertingly with the clam in this Worlds-Plane, reminding her of her path and its inevitable destination. She was openly shivering now, smirk plastered on her face. The storm shouldn't have been there. At all. Gateways were never supposed to be that violent when opened. It was a testament to the power and desperation of the victim lying at her feet.

Oh yes, one was now dead. The smirk she had held turned into a bought of full blown laughter. It wasn't long before she was on the ground all but begging for breath as the warm thought wormed its way through her. It was wonderful. Having barely regained control of herself she looked at the stallion she was now beside. The mighty pegasus lay there, unmoving, face contorted in pain and fear, Hell having long since claimed his soul. His sky-blue coat and silver-gold mane were marred by battle and blood, and his beautiful silver tipped wings were on the ground somewhere having been ripped out of him at the spine. The large mark on his flank, an odd collection of stars, moons, suns, and worlds all behind a bow and crown, was now unrecognizable. She never truly understood what it meant and now she never would. He was an island of flesh in an ocean of blood.

"Poor, poor brother," the mare chuckled to herself. "Surely you must have realized that the portal could not have saved you." She got up from the sticky mess of his congealing blood and looked at him one last time, anger edging her voice. "You boasted so much about your victory. You didn't need us. You were all powerful. Now look at you. You are nothing. Nothing." She leaned over the broken form, mouth hovering near his ear and whispered, "I don't know if God is laughing at your defeat or weeping at the loss of your soul, but I will make sure that He bitterly regrets making us and rejoices with our deaths."

With these thoughts she moved away from the meadow, and the carnage that it hid, toward the storm wracked forest floating before her. She would be followed, but that was the point. This was just another move in a long game. But she could feel the ending. Her destiny would be accomplished, and she would prove herself worthy of the Horseman. Then the world would be rid of her. It was wonderful and terrifying.