Description:
[www.fimfiction.net/story/52307…](https://www.fimfiction.net/story/523078/3/a-king-to-a-god/chapter-2-sons-of-the-earth)
> In a combined effort, the Occult of Ghidorah were doing exactly as their lord had commanded them. Exactly the words that were breathed forth from the Immortal Priest. Breathed from the very breath of their god. They all wore similar clothing as he, dark cloaks covering their bodies while skulls shielded their faces. Some were of creatures known to the world above. Some completely unknown.
>
> Other members of the Order of the Dragon, the Harbingers of Zenith, the most powerful hooves to the Immortal Priest himself, stood lighting the way. Their golden masks were nearly concealed beneath their black hoods, skull-like as all the others. Jagged mandibles from the ancient masks dangled from their jaws, sharpened to fine points as were the teeth. Their eyes were black, concealed in shadows as the fires from the torches cast their light upon them. Upon the cavern. Upon their god.
>
> As their god commanded, they were to bring him safely into their home. To Below, where the final component of the ritual had been attained. They had waited many millennia for this moment, for his glorious return, and his cry spurred enough life in their fading hearts to bring the cult back from the shadows. Their Ruler spoke as the Dragon, let the Voice breathe through him so they knew where to find their god. And they did. And they were bringing him home.
>
> Pegasi held ropes in their jaws, their wings and muscles and every fiber of their beings straining to lift the monumental skull deeper forward into the cavern, to the awaiting vortex. Unicorns stood on the sides, lifting with their magic whenever the Pegasi found their strength to haul Ghidorah’s head forward. The Earth ponies at the rear drove their shoulders and themselves onto the severed neck, pushing with all their might but only acquiring a few feet every ten minutes or so.
>
> Emrick did not care how long it took. Their ancestors had died waiting. Their grandparents, their fathers, their mothers, all passed before their glorious rise could ever become reality. Emrick—chosen in birth to lead them as the next Valiant, the next Diligent, the next Immortal—was blessed with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The responsibility that came from it would have taken any other pony into the depths of insanity of which there was no return. Such weaknesses that claimed former Immortals. But Emrick was forged for this moment. He knew he was born for something truly great. Their god cried to them. They returned for him. And now the ritual would begin and they would reign with him in one swift and final strike.
>
> Where the Above would kneel to the Below.
Ghidorah © Legendary & Toho
> In a combined effort, the Occult of Ghidorah were doing exactly as their lord had commanded them. Exactly the words that were breathed forth from the Immortal Priest. Breathed from the very breath of their god. They all wore similar clothing as he, dark cloaks covering their bodies while skulls shielded their faces. Some were of creatures known to the world above. Some completely unknown.
>
> Other members of the Order of the Dragon, the Harbingers of Zenith, the most powerful hooves to the Immortal Priest himself, stood lighting the way. Their golden masks were nearly concealed beneath their black hoods, skull-like as all the others. Jagged mandibles from the ancient masks dangled from their jaws, sharpened to fine points as were the teeth. Their eyes were black, concealed in shadows as the fires from the torches cast their light upon them. Upon the cavern. Upon their god.
>
> As their god commanded, they were to bring him safely into their home. To Below, where the final component of the ritual had been attained. They had waited many millennia for this moment, for his glorious return, and his cry spurred enough life in their fading hearts to bring the cult back from the shadows. Their Ruler spoke as the Dragon, let the Voice breathe through him so they knew where to find their god. And they did. And they were bringing him home.
>
> Pegasi held ropes in their jaws, their wings and muscles and every fiber of their beings straining to lift the monumental skull deeper forward into the cavern, to the awaiting vortex. Unicorns stood on the sides, lifting with their magic whenever the Pegasi found their strength to haul Ghidorah’s head forward. The Earth ponies at the rear drove their shoulders and themselves onto the severed neck, pushing with all their might but only acquiring a few feet every ten minutes or so.
>
> Emrick did not care how long it took. Their ancestors had died waiting. Their grandparents, their fathers, their mothers, all passed before their glorious rise could ever become reality. Emrick—chosen in birth to lead them as the next Valiant, the next Diligent, the next Immortal—was blessed with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The responsibility that came from it would have taken any other pony into the depths of insanity of which there was no return. Such weaknesses that claimed former Immortals. But Emrick was forged for this moment. He knew he was born for something truly great. Their god cried to them. They returned for him. And now the ritual would begin and they would reign with him in one swift and final strike.
>
> Where the Above would kneel to the Below.
Ghidorah © Legendary & Toho
Comments
0 comments posted