The Herald

by Nharctic

Rating: everyone
Tags: Sad, Tragedy, Dark
Length: 8958

The Creator warned long ago of a War, The Last War. The Last War has begun.

On the first day, The Herald was there to watch as The Creator forged the universe.

On the second day, The Herald was there to see The Creator make The Aspects of Truth.

On the third day, The Herald watched The Creator breathe life into the world.

If you have anything you want to say about The Herald, please let me know in the comments!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-30 14:08:50 UTC

Chapter 01- It Has Begun

        On the first day, The Herald was there to watch as The Creator forged the Universe.

        On the second day, The Herald was there to see The Creator make The Aspects of Truth.

        On the third day, The Herald watched The Creator breathe life into the World.

        When Celestia and Luna first drew breath, The Herald was there to tell The Aspects of Creation their names.

        When The Aspect of Chaos fell from the Darkness Beyond, The Herald was there to warn the world.

        When the Aspects of Truth became Death, Life, The Elements of Harmony, and many more, The Herald was there to name them.

        When Discord was defeated, The Herald assured the tale was carved by The Ancestors of the Wise Races into stone.

        When Nightmare Moon arose, The Herald warned Celestia.

        When The Nightmare fell, The Herald foretold of her return.

        Whenever the Aspects lost sight of their path, The Herald showed them what misery they caused.

        When Nightmare Moon returned, The Herald was there.

        When The Aspect of Magic ascended, The Herald was there.

        When Calamity strikes, The Herald will warn.

        When the last war of Equestria’s Third Age begins, The Gods will stand against The Corruption.

        ~

        Lighting illuminated the darkness of rain, like snapshots and quickly fading dreams. The Aspect of the Sun watched through a window, waiting.

        Another flash, and a figure of swirling shadow could be seen, only to fade again as a dream would. The snapshots illuminated it, depicting its approach.

When it reached the window, it vanished into the darkness, the light now only showing an empty courtyard.

        Whispers of history and ancient wisdom seemed to fly about the room, and they grew louder until they became one voice, unidentifiable and old, “The time has come...”

        This was the moment where all of Creation hinged, and Celestia’s heart beat frantically in partial excitement, partial despair. “I am ready, Herald, as is Luna. Twilight is prepared. Have you chosen who you will stand with?”

        Shock, that was the emotion that filled The Sun Princess’ mind as emotion tinged The Herald’s voice, “You have not told The Aspect of Magic. I thought you were better than that.”

        “It is for her own safety.”

        For the first time in many hundreds of years, The Herald acted. A tendril of shadow grasped Celestia’s chin, piercing many layers of warding and shields. It tilted her head up a little, and Celestia gasped.

        A face of shadow stared back at her, with eyes of pure white being the only feature. “I will stand with you, Celestia, but if she is harmed because you withhold the truth from her ...”

        For the second time that day, Celestia felt an emotion not felt since the days of old. This time, it was fear. “I will tell her, but she deserves a day of peace first.”

        “Very well. Death, Faith, and Wisdom will stand by you, and so will Discord. The others have not yet answered me.” The tendril of darkness receded, and The Herald’s face vanished into the impossible shadow.

        ~

        Celestia was silent at breakfast. This was unusual for the triarch , and Luna noticed that. “Sister, what is on your mind?”

        The Sun Princess looked up, her eyes catching a coiling shadow in the corner of the room. “The Herald spoke to me last night.”

        Luna’s eyes widened. “You mean-”

        “It is time, Luna, for the Last War.”

        She sighed, and scooped the last of her eggs into her mouth, thinking. “Who does The Herald stand with?”

        “The Herald will stand with us.”

        A sigh of relief escaped Luna’s throat. “Thank The Creator. If The Herald opposed us, this war would have been lost already.”

        Celestia shuddered at the images that erupted at the thought of The Herald fighting them. “Indeed. But it gave a condition, that I must tell Twilight about the Last War by the end of the day.”

        “Let her have her fun. She deserves one last day.”

        Celestia was waiting for Twilight, having called the young alicorn to her chambers for a private discussion.

        The lavender mare slid through the door unannounced. “Um, Prin- Celestia, why did you-”

        The Sun Princess waved a hoof. “Save your energy, Twilight. I asked for you to come, because today is the day that I will teach you about why we exist. As in, why Alicorns and Gods exist.”

        This was a topic that had little data, even the most complete histories gave vague speculation about the Age before mortals , and even more wild guesses on where Alicorns and Gods came from. Therefore, Twilight could barely restrain herself from squealing.

        The White Alicorn coughed, gathered her thoughts, and began to tell a tale not heard in two Ages of the World.

        “Long ago, there was one being.

        Their name was The Creator, a god wielding such power that the very universe was formed by The Creator’s will, banishing the Darkness that was before.

        The Creator made the world, and set upon it creatures known as The Aspects of Truth, The First Ones. The Aspects then prepared the world with The Creator for what would come after. When The Creator was ready, orbs of fire and silver were set about the world, and named them Sun and Moon.

        Tired, The Creator left the world to The Aspects, but with one warning: that The Darkness That Was Before would return to retake what was lost.

        That war has been referred to as The Last War.

And the Last War has begun.”

Twilight’s eyes seemed to drop a little, the excitement of learning not quite countering the realization that she would have to fight. “And I have to fight in this war?”

Celestia sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. But we are not without allies.”

“The Aspects that you talked about?” guessed Twilight.

“I truly hope they will. Only a few have answered the call so far.”

What Twilight said next shocked Celestia. “Does that include The Herald?”

The Sun Princess flopped down into the cushioned chair behind her. “Yes... How, exactly, do you know about The Herald?”

The lavender mare’s ear twitched. “Ummm... I read about it in a book?”

Normally, Celestia would have accepted that form of explanation, and not pushed Twilight to tell the truth. After all, the mare would come clean sooner or later. But The Herald was in no history book, and no texts existed with even the slightest mention of The Herald.  “Twilight, The Herald is not something that could be found in any book in existence.  The only way you could know of The Herald... is if you have met The Herald.”

Chapter 02- Twilight's Story

“The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter - often an unconscious but still a faithful interpreter - in the eye.”  -Charlotte Brontë

        Twilight floated in a vast expanse of darkness, with only the memory of slumber to cling to. She did not know how long she had been there, but there was an ancient fear that had crept into her mind while she drifted.

        It built, flashes of death and loss pushing the laughter of friends and the love of family out of her mind. She fought it like she had fought the Nightmare, how she had stood against all of the threats to Equestria. She fought, but the bastion of her mind was cracked from worry and fear already.

        It would be so easy for her to just... let go.

        But she would not. She cried out, grasping at strings of light...

and something answered her.

        A firm grip of darkness and times gone past held her now, but it was not fear that drove this darkness. It was kindness, the kindness of one that had seen so much pain; far too much.

        Eyes of white, streaked with black and wisps of light trailing off them, opened in front of her. A voice of whispers and history long forgotten wrapped itself around her, worried and warm. “You are safe now, little one.”

        Shock was difficult to overcome, but Twilight managed.“Thank you.”

        Unblinking eyes inspected her critically, softening slightly. “You are lucky, little one, that I saw you. My realm, the Realm of Shadow, is not for mortal eyes. In this realm, all that is left to shadows dwells. The Realm of Shadow is all our hopes and fears, and all that you never want to see.”

        “Why are you here, then?” asked Twilight.

        The eyes closed briefly, and when they opened, they glowed even brighter. “I am The Herald, little one. Gods only manifest with belief, and can enter the world without it only a short time. Did you even know I existed before now?”

        Twilight searched her mind, and found nothing. “No, I did not.”

        “Exactly.” The eyes faded slightly, and The Herald sounded wistful. “You must leave this place soon, little one. Do not tell anyone about this unless they find out you know me.”

        “What about you?”

        “Did I not tell you? I cannot leave my realm for long unless some believe in me.” The eyes faded more, as if drifting.

        “What if I believe in you?” The Herald’s eyes halted their drift, and blinked.

        “Thank you, little one. Do not fear the shadows, and remember me. What is your name?”

        The lavender mare felt the warmth in The Herald’s voice. “My name is Twilight Sparkle.”

        The Herald blinked. “Element of Magic? Then this meeting was not just chance and magic, little one...” The eyes suddenly winked out. “Your time here has ended, little one. Remember me.”

        Twilight felt herself dragged roughly from the Realm of Shadows, and when her eyes opened again, she was in bed. “Was it a dream?” she muttered. “No, it couldn’t be.”

        “Remember, little one.”

        Celestia frowned, but behind her mask, she was feeling terrible. Speaking her thoughts aloud, she said, “Interesting. Even I did not know that we stayed manifest from belief. I suppose that because all of the Aspects represent constants in the world, they are always manifest.” Internally, she thought, The reason the Herald does not stay long is that all of The Aspects don’t like The Herald because it is an unknown... No wonder The Herald does not care for us much.  And yet, The Herald likes Twilight, and Twilight thinks The Herald is okay. The Herald even saved Twilight from the Realm of Shadow. Perhaps it is time for me to change my ways.

        “Well, The Herald will be fighting with us, right? Even though The Herald can’t stay long?” asked Twilight.

        “Of course, Twilight. And for once, I look forward to seeing The Herald.”

        In the Realm of Shadow, The Herald’s eyes flared, and a flicker of white mist illuminated massive wings. They were gold at the base, and slowly transitioned to a silvery white as it reached the tips. “Thank you, little one.”

        A rustling like wings flapping echoed about, and the voice of whispers joined even more strongly, more like a single voice. “If The Moon will drop her fear of me, perhaps... I can return.”

        Celestia was not one to wait when mysteries that had been hidden from her sight finally came to light. The Herald had been completely unknown since before her creation, but now, The Herald had a stronger form than a voice.

        The shadows gripped her as she stepped into the Realm of Shadow, but they did not pull at her mind like it would a mortal being. But she could not bring her mortal shell here. A sigh of relief escaped her as wings of fire and gold flared out, and her true form was revealed.

        Her true form was similar to her mortal shell, but it seemed to be made of fire and golden light, her mane a long, flowing thing of fire. She opened her pure gold eyes, and called out. “Herald! I wish to speak with you.”

        Eyes of white mist flickered into existence, the flash of light briefly illuminated a body. It was hard to see even for the great Aspect of the Sun. “Welcome to the Realm of Shadow, Aspect of the Sun. Why do you wish to speak with me?”

        She tilted her head. “I wish to apologise.”

        “For what?”

        “It was by the power of The Aspects, including myself, that made it difficult for you to leave this place for long. We thought you simply did not want to leave, and left you to be forgotten. I am sorry for being a part of it. But why did you not tell us that we were causing it?”

        A rustle of wings was the only sound as The Herald thought about it, eyes of white brightening. “You did not ask. Gods cannot be forced in their beliefs, especially by other gods.”

        Celestia pondered this, and tried to come up with solutions. If they were to survive the coming war, they needed The Herald’s help. “Could I tell my sister of this? Would that be forcing belief?”

        The eyes shook, and it took a moment for Celestia to realize The Herald was shaking its ‘head’. “No. She wants my help in the Last War anyways, but you cannot force her to believe in me, to trust in me. You must tell her the little one’s story.”

        If not for having been told the specifics of the encounter between Twilight and The Herald, The Sun Princess would not have realized what was meant by ‘the little one’. “I will tell Luna Twilight’s story. But why do you call her the ‘little one’?”

        There was a twinkle in The Herald’s eyes. “Am I not permitted to care for others, those that are like children to me,little one?”

Chapter 03, Part 1: When The Truth is Seen...

        “True love doesn't need proof.

The eyes told what heart felt.” ― Toba Beta

There was a twinkle in The Herald’s eyes. “Am I not permitted to care for others, those that are like children to me, little one?”

Celestia was shocked. For all her life, she had seen The Herald as merely a messenger to the Aspects, a way for The Creator’s will to be expressed. The Herald had been there when she was created, there to tell her what her name was. In that moment, The Herald had seemed a parent, but she had dismissed that thought as quickly as it came. “What?”

The Herald saw her confusion. “You and your sister are more like The Creator than any of the other Aspects, much easier to relate to. I had hoped...” The Herald trailed off. “But that time is past, and we have much larger things to worry about. Good luck, Celestia.” The Herald’s eyes faded.

If The Herald did not desire to speak, then speak it would not. Celestia sighed, the burden of times past weighing heavier on her shoulders. “Very well, Herald.” She stepped back, the shadows vanishing as her mortal shell wrapped around her mind.

“Lulu?” called Celestia, walking the now moonlit corridors, white light splashing in through the columns of white marble.

A voice called back, from beyond the pillars. “Over here, Tia.”

Celestia turned and smiled at her sister, who was sitting on the soft, springy grass of the garden. No guards walked these halls, for this part of the castle was private. She did not fear being overheard, so she stepped into the garden and sat by her sister. “Apparently, Twilight knew of The Herald, but promised not to say unless somepony asked.”

Luna gasped. “Really? How?”

The Sun Princess took a deep breath, collected her thoughts, and told Twilight’s story.

The truth hurt Luna more than it did Celestia. “So we essentially imprisoned The Herald in the Realm of Shadow by not really trusting or believing in it?”

“Unfortunately, yes. And The Herald isn’t even the emotionless, unknown being we thought. Nopony even gave a thought when we called The Herald an ‘it’, and The Herald even saved Twilight from the Realm of Shadow. But if we no longer fear The Herald, and believe in it... it can enter this world longer, and we need The Herald to win this war.”

Luna sighed sadly. “I hope The Herald can finally step from the shadows and get the honor and respect that it deserves.” Her demeanor changed, the frown turning up into a curious smile. “In fact, I look forward to fighting with The Herald now.”

The Herald’s eyes flared more, illuminating the gold and silver wings again, but also a strange, solid shadow of of a body. “Thank you, little one.”

The Herald’s comment about ‘little one’ had gotten Celestia thinking. How was it that after only one meeting, The Herald became quite attached to Twilight? This, added to The Herald’s cryptic reaction to Twilight’s name: “Element of Magic? Then this meeting was not just chance and magic, little one...”The Herald had referred to her as ‘little one’ before hearing her name, but most likely it was to comfort Twilight.

The puzzle was nearly complete, yet not quite. Frustrated, Celestia stared out at Canterlot, as if waiting for it to answer her.

Then, an answer came.

The Herald could only stay in the world for short periods of time, but if someone wanted The Herald to stay... The Herald would be able to. After all, The Herald was a being of almost pure magic and power...

The puzzle was complete, and in a burst of inspiration, she looked at what she knew about Twilight and The Herald.

Both Twilight and Shining Armor have vast magical fonts... The chances of siblings having that sort of power... Unlike anything seen before...

Emotion-controlled bursts of power, almost like a god’s in properties...

Capable of using Shadow and Dark Magic without any training, and suffers no problems from it... Usually comes from Shadow affinity in blood....

The Herald is a Shadow Being... Wields great power, has huge fonts of Divine, Arcane, and Primal magics... Unlike anything seen before...

All gods can fuel magic with emotions...

Exists in the realm where Shadow magic comes from.... Uses Shadow and Dark Magic with great control and not even the emotional side-effects...

Vast magical fonts... unlike anything before... emotion fueled bursts... like a god’s in properties... using Shadow and Dark Magic without any training... comes from Shadow affinity in blood... The Herald is a Shadow Being... vast magical fonts... emotion fueled magic...Shadow and Dark Magic.. not even the emotional side effects...

“Twilight, if it’s not a problem, can you call your parents here?”

Andre Amazeen:

In writing, it is better to avoid starting paragraphs with the same word multiple times, unless there are a few between them.

Chapter 03, Part 2: ...The Herald Will Speak

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

― George Orwell, 1984

        Beyond the eyes of The Creator, beyond the collective sight of The Council of the Gods, The Herald sat alone on the edge of Creation.

        The stars themselves, even The Ocean Astral halted here, giving way to a darkness unlike what the Mortal and Immortal had ever seen. It had been beheld only by The Herald, The Creator, and such ancient beings as them.

        The Herald extended a tentative hoof of Shadow to touch the Darkness, for even The Herald was not beyond the fear of it. The Darkness rippled like water, but accepted The Herald’s touch. As it slipped through, the misty Shadow that coated the ancient one was stripped, and The Herald’s true form was exposed.

        If any of the Aspects had been there to see it, their view of The Herald would have changed drastically. The Herald’s hoof was a pure white, with a golden glow radiating from it. Staring at it with an academic curiosity, The Herald mused,  “How odd it is, that such a being as me is radiant. Many would think that having been in Shadow so long would have affected my form, but the true form of an Old One never changes. Even if nobody can remember my True Name, or even what I am, I will not change.”

        A voice echoed, kindly and wise. “Herald. You are still following my will, I see.”

        The Herald turned to look, and made a sound strange and forgotten. Laughter. “I follow your will, Creator, but only because it is the only way for anybody to survive the Last War.”

        A being of purest white, radiating wisps of gold and silver, stared at The Herald with glowing eyes of black. “You know what must be done?”

        “Indeed I do, Creator. At first I thought to undo your works, but I saw quickly what your intent was. But do you see how much pain you will cause, Creator?” The Herald’s eyes flared, wisps of red leaking in. “Can you see how you will break their hearts? Can you see how much pain they will go through?”

        The Creator winced. “I do. It is necessary.”

        The Herald did not care. “Many of them still have mortal friends, Love even took a mortal husband. Magic is still so very mortal in her feelings, and holds many of them dear. Both of them have mortal parentage, Creator. Can you understand that, brother?” the force in The Heralds’ voice was causing ripples in the astral magick around them.

        He sighed. “Magic will still have some of her own blood, my brother.”

        The Herald reeled back as if struck. His eyes lost their anger, but shock replaced them. He had been Named as a deity, after being Nameless for three ages of the world. “I have been left as a Nameless for so long. My own name escapes me, even... but I will remember. Perhaps, perhaps she will not fear me, when the time comes.”

        “I pray, for all of our sakes. Her Bloodline would have birthed the Aspect of Magic anyways, and now the Blood of Creation is in her veins, as well... She may well have power close to our own.” mused The Creator, swirling trails of pure matter around in front of him.

        “But not too close. I remember, in those beginning times, how you ripped a hole in reality with a tantrum. Magic did no such thing, though being turned into a potted plant was quite an interesting feeling.”

        In Twilight’s childhood, there was an old oak door that nopony opened but her father, a room that nopony could get into but him. Twilight, out of curiosity, had tried to open in it on her last visit, but it wouldn’t budge. The room, she decided, was woven with a legendary kind of ward- the Blood Wards. They would only open for the weaver of the spell, but the downside was that it would vanish after their death, and took over seven years to weave.

        If she had gotten in somehow, she would have been severely underwhelmed. It was a simple study, with red velvety carpet and bookcases crammed with books, a fire crackling merrily in the marble fireplace.

        Night Light was in there now, sitting on a green cushion that was worn from years of use. He wasn’t reading, writing, drawing, or planning, but waiting. He was waiting for a being that was supposedly forgotten and locked away until just recently.

        A dark wisp tricked out from the shadows, running upward into a body wreathed in Shadow, with the occasional gap showing white and gold light. In a completely un-godly action, it lifted a hoof and cracked its neck. “Ahhh... So much better than that cramped shadow-wisp form.”

        Night Light nodded sympathetically. “I know how you feel. I had to use it on myself and my wife to avoid the Changelings. Hurts to Tartarus and back.”

        “Speaking of Tartarus, something tells me that will be a better place to be than here very, very soon.” muttered The Herald glumly.

        His son raised an eyebrow. “Really? What makes you think that?”

        “Celestia just put all of the pieces together, from what I can sense. And the picture she got... well, she gets that Twilight has my blood.”

        The unicorn chuckled. “Well, it was only a matter of time, you know? You’d think the fact that the ‘Children of Unicri’ birthed the Aspect of Magic without any apparent involvement of all the magic branches would have tipped her off.”

        The Herald shrugged, his mood lightened by the observation. “She forgets Shadow branch quite a lot. Tartarus, most get Shadow and Dark Magic confused.”

        A knock at the door made both of them jump, and The Herald melted into Night Light’s shadow. Night Light coughed a little, then said, “Yes?”

        Twilight’s voice called through. “Remember, Dad? We’re going to have tea with Prin- ahem, Celestia and Luna at noon!”

        The shadow of Night Light, oddly, facehoofed without Night Light actually performing such an action. Night Light replied, “Oh, silly me! Coming!”

Chapter 04- The First Move

In the Shadow, two streaks of white fell ever downward. Around them, a body wreathed in black, so dark that even the Shadow was grey in comparison. Tendrils of Shadow trailed after it, like the wings of a fallen angel. This Shadow had a name once, but that was forgotten. He had a title, a title that he used to keep hold on the world. He was called The Herald once, but when even the Gods themselves refused to utter it in anger, there was nothing left for him.

Drips of gold flew upward as his eyes passed. They were things unseen since his name had been lost. They were tears. “I had hoped to never see this day... I always thought that I would be the last of the Old Ones to die.” The Shadow-wind tore at the veil of Darkness, pulling away the mask that The Herald had worn for so very long.

As it pulled away, silvery radiance shot outwards, illuminating the Shadow. The Herald died then, as the Title of Old was taken like a cane from an old man.

And awakened the Old One who had stood guard as his brother created the world, the Old One who had tended the newborn world. He was made of a metallic, gold-like substance, with a mane of flowing black trailing as he fell. The eyes, the eerie eyes of white remained. “I was The Herald of Time, The Guardian of Secrets. I was The Eldest, The King of Shadow. I was... Lord Illuriel.”

When he said his name, a shock wave rippled through all the Realms. Far away, a still-uncomprehending Twilight looked up, feeling like something had just been torn away. All the gods shuddered, and The Creator shed silver tears.

The one who was once The Herald held on by only a thread, thread to a life he no longer wanted. A breath of white drifted from his golden mouth. “I have fallen, First Ones. I am sorry, so very sorry. I have failed you... I have failed myself.”

As he spoke, he fell from the Realm of Shadow.

Celestia was still pondering The Herald’s reaction to her accusations, how he had fled at their anger, and the sudden ripple of power not long after. She felt a little regret for saying it to him, how his heart was visibly broken at Twilight’s subsequent anger.

But she would wonder no longer, and forever regret her harsh words. Not even Wisdom’s reassurance that her anger had been justified, it was only logical that she would be angry with The Herald for interfering in the Mortal Realm, no matter how much he cared for them long ago.

The darkened throne room felt cold, as if pure Shadow had poured from the skies. A gateway of white opened in the ceiling, a perfect Gate of Shadow. Only three beings had such mastery of Gates, The Herald, Death, and Wisdom. And in her heart, she knew it wasn’t Death who opened it, and Wisdom never came through the Shadow.

A golden body glowing with the faintest of silver fell from the Gate, and hit the marble floor with a resounding thud. It cracked the hard stone like it was shale, but the body was unbroken. Celestia, as old as she was, did not recognise it. No Mortal or Immortal would have known.

She stepped down from her throne, ignoring the guards that poured in, led by her sister. The calls to her welfare were dulled, growing quieter with each step, each heart beat. She bent her head to look at the beautiful, almost statue-like creature, and her heart grew knotted.

The eyes. She knew those eyes, every Immortal did. “Creator above... This is The Herald.”

        None of the guards knew what The Herald was, but something deep inside them resonated with the words, like a memory passed through blood. That resonance brought down a heavy silence, a crushing fear that seemed to clutch their hearts.

        Luna’s eyes spoke what no words could, a mixture of despair and sadness. Her voice barely pushed the oppressive air away as she spoke shakily, “Is The Herald...?”

        Celestia opened her mouth to reply, but none came. There is a fear every being, Mortal and Immortal, feels. Even Death fears it. The fear is dissolution, of the end, and the Immortals feared it the most. If The Herald was dead, that would mean that Immortals could pass on.

        A groan came from The Herald, and then a whisper bound by power. “I am... dying... I thought once that I could not... but we all have weaknesses. Even The Creator has one... I should know.”

        The pink eyes that had seen so much looked into the white eyes that had seen everything, and saw in them a broken soul. Celestia stood straighter, and shouted, “Guards, leave us. Do not speak of what you have seen or heard.”

        Luna nodded in agreement, and moved over to her sister against the retreating crowd of guards. When they had all left, she knelt next to The Herald’s head.

Trembling, a gold hoof reached up to touch Luna’s astral mane. “Perhaps... perhaps unbinding the lies of my past will make my passing less bitter... no, it wouldn’t... only one of my blood would care enough to mourn...”

Together, the sisters of the Sky replied, “We will listen, Herald.”

A ghost of a smile touched his face. “Thank you, little ones, for listening an old stallion.”

It was strange, Celestia reflected, how The Herald had become less unknown as he approached his own passing.

“Before Creation, before even myself, there were The First Ones. They were beings of consciousness alone, with powers of a different kind. They were not magical, nor powerful, but they imposed their will upon the Darkness That Was Before, pushing it back and shaping a stable Universe. They had no place in their own creation, and made beings of physical presence to continue their will. I was one of them, and my direct purpose was to be the Herald of Change, the Guardian of their secrets. I was also the first.

Then came my brother, who you call The Creator.”

The shock of this shuddered through the Aspects as they realized the truth; the oldest physical being was dying.

“He was called The Maker then, but his title changed when he created the Universe we know today, fulfilling part of The First Ones’ will.

The last among us was The Mage. When the physical world was made, she sacrificed her body and soul. Her body became many of the Magic types, like Arcane, Divine, Life, Air, and Fire. These magics are held within Realms, as you know.

Her soul split into two fragments: a force known as Harmony, and a mystic mechanism that divides the Realms, The Physical World, and The Underworld. The Force of Harmony manifested physically into the Elements when they were needed.”

“The power that would require...” breathed Luna.

The Herald laughed weakly. “You have no idea. No living being could match that power...

All beings alive, you see, are born with one name: our True Name. Our True Name is what we draw our power from. Some way or another, we all get a second name, the name we are given.  Our final name is the name we take. I took the title Herald, in honor of my duties.

But I am different. So is my brother, and so was The Mage. When we speak our other names, we gain the power to do almost anything at all, but at the price of our lives. That is our weakness, because all Immortals keep the name they take as long as there are some to know it, and know its meaning.

So if I were to become hated, to be forgotten, I would not only lose the name I took... with the belief goes the only name I can use. And if I were to become truly nameless...”

The pieces fit together into one dark puzzle for Celestia. “You have to use your other names.”

“Exactly... and that brings me to the truth. I am no longer The Herald.” His golden frame shuddered, and he pulled himself up. “I am Lord Illuriel.”

Nothing held back Celestia’s tears now, and Luna was on the verge of tears. The Aspect of the Sun bowed her head. “I am sorry... Illuriel. I know that your heart broke when Twilight fled from you, and it’s all my fault...” Luna could not bring herself to speak, or was unable to.

Illuriel rested a hoof on Celestia’s shoulder as he stood at his full stature, a full head taller than her. “It was my own fault, Celestia. Do not restrain your tears, though, for the imagined wound would fester if you did. All tears are not evil.” For the first time in his long life, Illuriel smiled truly. But it was to be short-lived.

He cried out in pain, and collapsed onto the ground. “It is finally time for me to... pass on... if you could... do something for this undeserving soul...”

“I will.”

“I will.”

“Please... tell Twilight... Shining Armor... Night Light... My Brother... tell them... Goodbye, and... good luck...” he groaned again, and black smoke rose from his golden skin. “And I will give you a choice, little ones... Will you take my power upon you?”

Chapter 05: All That Is Bright....

“It doesn't matter what you do... so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away. The difference between the man who just cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching, he said. The lawn-cutter might just as well not have been there at all; the gardener will be there a lifetime.”

― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451

“We will take your power upon us, Illuriel,” answered the sisters in unison. It is those moments in an Immortal’s life where some reflexive formality locks the words in place, as if practiced.

Relief flickered in Illuriel’s fading eyes. “I, Illuri-” a shot of agony shot through him, and he cried out, breaking into a coughing fit. When he spoke, some of the whisper behind his words was gone, as if he was already fading. “I, Illuriel, do give my mantle to the Aspects Sun and Moon, and with it I confer my memories and magic.”

From that same reflex, they replied, “We accept. Do you confer your Power unto us?”

His eyes flickered again. “No. The Power of The Old Ones cannot be contained. I will let it flow into the world, and perhaps guard this world a little longer... but I do not think it willmake much of a difference.”

The Sisters bowed their heads in acceptance, and Illuriel sighed contentedly. “So this is how it ends...”

A ripple went through reality, reaching beyond even the Universe. In a land of nothingness, presences stirred from a long slumber.

One presence, with a voice reminiscent of ocean waves, made itself known.

Our                        child

oldest                                  passed...

has

The Herald                             his

has

completed                task...

Now                the                                        return.

is                        for

time               our

Another presence stirred, and replied with a voice of falling rain.

Howcan wereturn if The Maker’s plan has begun?

We will be barred from our returnif all falls into place as he planned it.

Even our eldest was fooled into thinking that his plan would save the Universe.

No, I think it will be risky. If we fail, then it will matternot what the Aspects do.

What can we do without a form?

The first voice answered.

We                        agreed,

are

then.

The                of                   last            is                          even                      would

power            the                        spell    far               than         The Maker’s

Herald’s                       greater                                         be.

It          holds                        after                                 and                The Warrior.

still                           even                          our daughter

potency,                awakening                      summoning

We                                    into    and                    physical

can channel    energy                 use   to

that                   us,             it     take            form.

        The second voice thrummed again, and spoke with a more concentrated voice.

The Herald’s Poweris indeed great.

It is certainly enough for us to shape into forms, we alreadyhave the ability to do so.

For the first time, we will be able to see our descendants. We will be able to say “hereis where we are,” for the first time.

The shapeless darkness rippled and coiled as the first presence shifted in what can only be described as a nod.

Indeed     will.

we

I       already feel                flowing through us.

can                    the power

May those who oppose us tremble in fear, for The First Ones are Ascendant!

        On a throne of silver and gold The Creator sat, his eyes flickering with streaks of white. He laughed, and through it corruption could be heard. “My brother, finally, has died. The foolish, trusting idiot actually thought that my plan was to save the Universe, right up until the end.” He lifted a hoof, seeing the ripples of power that warped around him as he did.

        The tendrils of shadow that once marked The Herald’s presence gripped the throne from the Shadow below, and The Creator looked at them amusedly. “Your Power has already submitted to me, fool. Why will yourmind and soul not give in?” He struck a tendril with his hoof, expecting it to vanish at the touch of such an almighty being.

        But the mind and soul of The Herald would never give in. They receded, but a faint memory of The Herald gave a warning that shook The Creator to his core. “Fear me, brother, for I am the Firstborn of The First Ones.”

        The Palace of Two Sisters stood in crumbling ruin still, and would stay that way until the end of Time itself. But it lay on a crucial spot in world, a place where a great many ley lines met, the strands of power that The Mage had used to weave The Maker’s Creation together. For one thousand years, the shard of her soul that was Harmony had rested on it, making this a place where The Mage’s presence was greatest.

        And when the ripple from The Herald’s death crashed through this convergence of power, it did not pass through. Instead, the ripple was somehow sucked in, splashing around like an angry ocean. With the ripple went a shard of The Herald’s Power, and into the convergence his Power went.

        To those who could see the work of The Mage, it was like gold ink had been poured through the ley lines, turning green to swirling gold. The gold slowly crept through the lines, making their way to the convergence. The green was not absorbed, but pushed inward to the convergence into an ever brighter star. And when the gold finally reached the convergence, the green had nowhere to go... but out.

        And out the power did go.

        The star of green ripped its way out of the fabric of the world, letting new seams of gold take its place. As it entered the world, it dimmed and shook, warping into a form befitting an Immortal.

        The Mage opened her green eyes, piercing her cloak of rippling white mist. “I am The Mage Reawakened, and I heed the call of The Herald.”

Intermission: The Shadow and The Darkness

“Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.”

― Cormac McCarthy

        In the Realm of Shadow, voices of shadow whispered to themselves, and spoke to other whispers. One voice, reminiscent of The Herald’s deep, discordant tones, said, “Our King has passed on, and the one who seeks to take his place wants to rip apart the world. Who among us knows one who can lead?”

        Another voice, this one reminiscent of Celestia, replied, “The being that casts me as her Shadow is a being of Light. She cannot rule us.”

        “The being who casts me as her Shadow succumbed to Darkness once, and attempted to use corrupt Shadow. She could rule us, but there is risk involved,” said a voice like Luna’s.

Many voices added their own input, but none had a candidate that was worthy. After a long time, The Herald’s Shadow interrupted, “Silence!” The voices died down slowly, and the Shadow continued, “The Mistress Twilight is locked from the Throne, and her sibling is Mortal. We all know that saying we are not worthy will not help, so I call you to tell me who is the worthy Heir to the Shadow Throne.” A ripple of energy passed through the place where the Shadows gathered, and The Herald’s Shadow turned, gaining form. “Who goes there?”

“I am the Aspect of Wisdom,” replied a melodic voice; one that rang with ancient knowledge. As she spoke, a soft grey glow illuminated a small area, a glow centered on what looked like a grayscale gryphon.

The Herald’s Shadow, before a mostly shapeless mass, took the form of The Herald as he was during the First Age of the world, a misty shadow with white eyes and dark, cloudy wings. “And why do you come, Immortal? You are well aware that Shadow is one of the most powerful magics, and also very dangerous.”

The grey, gryphon-like Immortal stepped towards The Herald’s Shadow carefully, and nodded respectfully. “The Realm of Shadow needs a ruler, Shadow. I am here to assure that you can find an Heir to the Shadow Throne. ”

The Shadow inspected the Immortal. “I will hear all of you out, Wisdom.”

Wisdom breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried that The Herald’s death would make your decisions... clouded. I am glad that this worry was unfounded.”

“As his Shadow, I am able to assume his position until the Heir is decided.”

“Shadow Magic must be quite powerful if you can wield that power,” complemented Wisdom truthfully. “I take it is related to The Herald being mostly Shadow anyways?”

The Herald’s Shadow nodded. “Indeed. I take it you’ve spoken to Mistress Twilight?”

The gryphon frowned slightly. “Yes, I have. The Council has been assembled for over a month now. I took it on myself to educate Twilight on her powers, and to assist her with her... damaged emotional state.”

The eyes of white widened a little, and The Shadow sighed. “Oh.”

“Well, I’m not here for idle chitchat, Shadow. Who are the candidates you have so far?” said Wisdom abruptly, turning to look at the Shadows around her.

Interestingly, the Shadow that chose to speak was Wisdom’s own. A dark duplicate of Wisdom stepped into the small pool of grey light, and said, “We can find none. We can find no Heirs among Immortals or Demigods, and few Mortals have the Blood Of Shadow in them anymore. Those who do either have barely any or have broken a Law of Shadow.” The Laws of Shadow were a code unspoken, a set of laws where the punishment was being cut off from The Realm of Shadow.

“Are you not forgetting Twilight?” prompted Wisdom.

Twilight’s Shadow stepped forward. “She has broken a Law of Shadow, Wisdom. You  know that.”

She sighed. “Yes, I suppose I do... but who will lead?”

Ripples in Shadow, unlike any Immortal’s, shook the Realm. With it came a voice of unified whispers, “I shall lead.”

Wisdom turned, her aura of grey brightening. “Who are you?”

The Herald’s Shadow laughed, a strange sound. “Even I did not believe the whispers, My Lady Mage. But here you are, brought from the grave by The Herald’s last wishes.”

Recognising the name from the story the Sisters of the Sky had told, Wisdom bowed at the rapidly approaching mist of white. “So you are The Mage. Thank you for your sacrifice long ago.”

The green, smoky eyes of The Mage peered at Wisdom from her cloak of mist. “I see that The Maker’s Children are not siding with their own father. Excellent.” She turned, facing the Shadow of The Herald. “Will you allow me to take the Shadow Throne, Shadow of my brother?”

The Shadow somehow managed to bow. “You are respected among the Shadow almost as much as The Herald, My Lady.”

In the heart of the world lay the Realms of Fire and Earth, infinite pools of power somehow contained within those finite spaces. But they were not placed there wantonly or logically; The Realms encircled the very Core of The World, the bed upon which a being older than all Immortals slept. He was kept there as part of an oath he had taken, that he would remain there until The Herald called him to war.

He was The Warrior, the Forgotten One. And he was called to war.

The Creator looked over a map, a map of the Universe from which he wove his designs and wrought his tools for plans unseen by all below. He cast no shadow, to his distaste, and the being that had once been King of Shadow still gripped at him.

“Your reach goes farther than even I anticipated, brother. You have reawakened our sister, raised all the Aspects against me, and awakened... something... in the heart of the World,” he said quietly. He uttered a short bark of laughter, as if amused. “Here I thought that I was the only one playing this game, but you knew all along, and played along with my ‘plan’. You didn’t expect to die so soon, I presume, but you still executed your plan perfectly.

But... who says I do not have allies?” The room grew cold, and color seemed to drain from it as a clawed, humanoid creature formed, shrieking. The Creator smiled widely, seeing the recognition in his brother’s faint eyes. “Yes, brother. The Darkness That Was Before... will come again, and tear this world apart with me. And nothing can stop it!”

Chapter 06- Inevitability

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

― Friedrich Nietzsche

The Aspect of Magic drifted through the Realm of Arcana, using it as a place of calm, a retreat from a reality she did not like. In return, some of the Aspects were not quite happy with Twilight, particularly the Aspect of Faith.

Most of the Immortals thought Twilight simply wanted time to learn about her powers as an Aspect, but Wisdom knew the truth of the matter. She knew that Twilight was in fact trying to control her powers and also her emotions.

A gateway, a perfect Gateway of Shadow that only three beings had ever mastered, opened up into the Realm of Arcana. Twilight shifted her True Form- a pure lavender flame with tongues of black- to see what was coming through it. “Wisdom,” she greeted curtly.

Wisdom’s front talons clacked on an invisible surface not unlike marble as she exited the portal, gesturing lightly at it. The Gateway closed, but not before a few pools of shadow dripped their way in. Paying no heed to them, Wisdom kindly greeted Twilight, “Hello, Twilight. Are you faring well?”

Twilight let out a sigh. “No, not really.”

The grey Gryphon raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I know that I shouldn’t be able to use Shadow Magic fully, but I can still sense my Shadow Font,” she explained. The Fonts are, put simply, pools of magics within the mind that will slowly refill from their respective Realms after being used. Twilight, who had been exceptional even as a Mortal, had vast magical Fonts of practically every kind- she even had a small Divine Font.

Usually, when one loses access to a specific form of Magic, they lose their Font as well. “Are you sure?” Wisdom asked, surprised.

Twilight extended a fiery hoof towards the small pools of Shadow, and the pools started drifting in her direction. “See?” the fact that Shadow Magic still wanted to refill her Font indicated her statement was true.

Wisdom, truly amused, tapped a talon against the invisible floor. “So your block on Shadow is mostly a mental one... I think that I know how to help you regain control of Shadow.”

“How?”

Smiling ever so slightly, Wisdom said, “Why, we ask the one in charge of Shadow.”

Twilight shook her head. “The Herald is dead, as you know.”

“Yes, he is. For the most part. Killing an Old One is nearly impossible, seeing as they represent a major aspect of the Universe as a whole. What they represent, I do not know.

But I doubt that The Herald will be coming back anytime soon, if at all. The current Ruler of Shadow wants you, the Aspect of Magic, to be able to wield Shadow. Very few of us can use Shadow Magic, Twilight, and it would be bad if that list shortened even more.”

Shrugging, Twilight’s True Form shimmered and rippled. “But how can I regain my connection to the Realm of Shadow?”

Wisdom drifted closer to Twilight, and extended a grey talon to the Aspect’s form. The talon began to glow an eerie black, the color of Shadow. “It will not restore your connection immediately, but the current Ruler of Shadow has given me a blessing to give to you, a Mark of Shadow. With time, you will regain your connection to the Font of Shadow.” Gently, Wisdom tapped Twilight’s fiery form, letting the black glow spread on to her. With the blink of an eye, the glow vanished.

The Mage’s green eyes illuminated the Realm of Shadow, and her warm, kindly voice filled silence. “She has taken the Mark.”

The white eyes that represented The Herald’s Shadow blinked open. “Excellent. Perhaps, with time, she will even be able to awaken The Herald’s blood within her.”

“And what,” began The Mage, “Would that do? She is already an Immortal.”

“During my- The Herald’s- time on this world, he spent a long time researching the Old Ones. What he discovered was that the Old Ones are essentially Aspects on a greater scale,” responded the Shadow calmly, avoiding the question.

“And?” prompted The Mage curtly.

Hesitating slightly, The Herald’s Shadow answered. “The Old Ones are the Aspects of Mind, Body, and Soul. The Herald was the Aspect of Soul, where the Truth is housed, which is why his Name includes Guardian of Truth. You are the Aspect of the Mind, where the connection to Magic is housed. The Maker- or as some prefer, The Creator- is the Aspect of Body, or the physical form.

As the Mind, Body, and Soul are the basic foundation of this world, they are even more constant than the Truths of the world, meaning that there must always be Aspects of Mind, Body, and Soul.”

The Mage, being quite clever, filled in the rest. “Which is why my brother lives on in multiple fragments. Immortal Titles are handed down to second generation descendants, so that would mean that either Twilight Sparkle or Shining Armor will gain the title of Aspect of Soul.”

There was no answer from The Herald’s Shadow.

The Mage picked up on this, and pushed again. “Is that not true?”

A whispering wind came from The Shadow; something The Mage realized was a resigned sigh. “That... is what The Herald intended for you to think.”

Ancient whispers that The Mage had heard from inside the threads of the world suddenly came to light. She gasped as they fit together. “Oh dear... The Maker is really outclassed here. He set up heirs to our powers... The Herald knew there was only one way for this to be fixed...”

The Shadow finished the thought, and dread rippled through the Realm of Shadow. “is to start over... without him, without The Maker, without you... without the First Ones.”