Recognise then reconcile

A black sword emanated out of Machia's missing arm. His adversaries watched in real-time as the darkness of the weapon grew deeper in front of their very eyes. Simultaneously the mad steed dissipated into shadows.

The group's leader, however, remained alive, whimpering on the cold ground of the throne room. It thrashed around as its animalistic cries beckoned for its allies to save it. Listening to this sound contently, Machia gazed towards the two standing foes as the mad one beneath his feet melted into shadows. Circulating around his feet, those shadows entered Machia. Unfazed by that turn of events and fully aware of the meaning, Machia grinned.

"You guys must be holding something back right? You're hardly stronger than last time."

Raising a single hand, clusters of shadowy fingers tore apart the throne room's floor. Targeting the two idle shadows that defied him, the fingers sought to extinguish them with all their turbulent mass. But before the fingers could tear them apart, they passed straight through their large bodies. Disappearing from sight, Machia was forced to raise an eyebrow in concern. Dismayed, he let out a reluctant sigh. 

"I shouldn't have said anything."

Suddenly, a hoove launched itself into Machia's stomach. It quite literally appeared out of nowhere, an unavoidable attack. Recognising the danger for the first time, Machia was sent flying as blood splurted out his mouth. The blow was devastating, yet even after being launched back, he regained his focus mid-air and stared dangerously at the newly revealed foe. 

"Die"

Rather than fingers erupting from the floor, two long black ropes wrapped themselves around the beast's neck. With a squeal, it was dragged to the floor, kicking and shaking, desperately attempting to escape its capture. Its ally even revealed itself as it attempted to tear off the holds that barred its friend with its razor-sharp teeth. But it was useless.

"Seems like you're smaller and slower than your friend."

His touch had restricted its ability to merge with the throne room's shadows. As the shadow tethers tightened, its squeals were drowned out as its kicking slowed to a halt. "Crack". Its neck was snapped up towards its ally. The final standing steed was forced to stare at its compatriot's lifeless eyes. 

Machia had long since landed, leaving a devastating imprint in the wall as he crawled out, clutching his stomach. The moment its ally had revealed itself, a new entanglement of thick dark ropes reared up from the wall behind. However, the last standing steed disappeared before they could reach their target. 

The room was silent again. The leader appeared to sob as it lay in a pool of its own thick black blood, sensing its ally had perished. From there, its anguish caught Machia's attention. It was as if it was begging for revenge. Recognising that he wouldn't be able to hear the vanished foe coming, Machia prepared himself.

This final entity was particularly troublesome. Unlike the others, it appeared to excel in battle. It had been the only one to respect Machia's danger since the start, showing admirable restraint hence far. Not to mention, his remaining arm was still useless. He was too injured to dodge the next blow. The leader understood this, too, from its debilitated state. Its cries echoed with hope throughout the silent, tense, empty castle.

But Machia was focused. Dying was hardly a deterrent. Instead, a calm expression overtook his features as the troop's leader watched on with wide, pale, expectant eyes. The sword that extenuated from his lost arm grew darker. Every time he defeated one, his connection to the shadows grew. But that was not why he was confident. 

Memories flooded his mind. Memories of his battles and his sparring with Amelia. Many withheld humiliating outcomes, but he had always been superior when it came to strategy and swordsmanship. Yet recently, he had been neglecting both, as if he was bothered by the reminder. Even in the midst of battle, such thoughts started flooding his mind. 

"When was the last time I felt this calm? No, something must be happening to me."

Spurred on by Machia's aimless words, a hoove appeared from behind. Out of nowhere, it struck at him from just millimetres away; it touched his skin, but then, it passed right through him. A gleam of black flashed for only an instant.

Machia was not utilising a new ability like it may have appeared. Instead, the beast's hind leg was simply split in two before it could reach him. From the hoove, to the leg, to the body, all was torn open in an instant. With alienated ghostly white eyes, it stared at Machia, sword in hand impressed, as its head was soon split apart. 

With sombre, stark white eyes, the leader watched its last ally fall and fade to shadows. A quiet whine that could not be deciphered was offered to its fallen comrade. Machia stood, not even acknowledging his victory as his mind wandered, watching as the shadows melted and approached.

"Incredible, now even more than before, I feel it, so they're responsible."

This silence, rather than eerie, was filled with serene calm as Machia finally gazed towards the shadow's leader. He approached it slowly, still in a world of his own. With a reignited hatred, it reared its wounded head at him in a shriek as it dragged itself towards him. Its pale, vengeful eyes cried out with hatred for him as thick black blood dripped from its snout. 

The beast cried out in hatred, humiliation and a harboured rage for its fallen allies. As Machia approached, it prepared itself for that familiar sight. That violent, arrogant grin that had imprisoned it before. Once again, it would befall that same tragedy to that cruel calculated boy. 

"I get it now."

Though its eyes were still clouded by thick black blood, Machia's voice resurfaced its rage as it snarled, bearing his teeth at the victor. Its vision may have been impeded, but it was barely able to make out the terrible state Machia's body was in. With a hopeful stagger, it attempted to stand, but as its legs wobbled, it soon fell to the ground weakly with a groan. 

"I get it now, why I hate you... Why you hate me."

Unimpeded by the entity's hostility, Machia reached out for the creature's head as it flinched back. But its desperate resistance was futile. Its worst fears became realised as the hand reached it. It did the only thing it could, and closed its eyes in stout protest, hiding from reality. 

"You are a part of me. I am a part of you. I realise that now."

Its head shook nervously from his touch. Fear, rage and sadness fought for dominance in the creature's mind as it refused to open its eyes. 

"My emotions, my cruelty... my control. That is who you are, that's who you all are, you're all my terrible aspects the ones I couldn't control. It makes sense, the only person I hate as much as you... is me. Perses and that girl maybe they're similar."

Still shuddering beneath his touch, the shadow felt a soft sensation. A gentle sensation embraced the darkness of its vision as it felt its mane be caressed. Confused and startled, it opened its eyes despite fearing what it might see. 

"I've decided for now at least. I'll stop hating me."

Its eyes opened up to a kind smile.