Lord Blade

by Jex

Rating: teen
Tags: Romance, Princess Luna, Original Character, Spike, Comedy, Adventure, Princess Celestia, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 24006

A 'young' demon of Hell, long disillusioned with the big fiery place, makes a desperate attempt to escape to the living world and in doing so starts one of the greatest stories told in Equestria

Lacuna is the son of Wrath, ruler of the sixth level of Hell. He is everything you would not expect from a demon. He doesn't like fighting, he doesn't like torturing, he doesn't like fire or lava, he doesn't like possessing people to potentially create a Paranormal Activity 26 or something. But he does like flying, and he definitely loves reading, especially about the World of the Living.

Check it out! Someone actually made us a cover pic!

Also, for anyone giving the fic a 'thumbs down,' I'd like to hear why you didn't like it. I'm a stickler for criticism and I'm interested on how you think we can improve. Thanks!

Published 2013-05-25 01:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-20 07:20:35 UTC

Chapter the Prologue

Lord Blade

Note from the author:

When Princess Celestia came to me and asked me to assist in the writing of a biography about the life of the Lord Blade Lacuna, I suggested, in my mind of course, that she see the royal physician.  I had absolutely no wish to interact with, be in the same room with, or even be within the same wing of the palace with that thing. Many, including the doctors and nurses busy keeping him in a stable condition at the time, would have shared my sentiment had they overheard.  However, the Princess has the ability to be very persuasive sometimes, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting beside a hospital bed next to arguably the most dangerous being alive.

It was over an hour before he deemed to notice my existence, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Even then, he responded to none of my questions. I asked him about his past, his skills, his interests, even his plans for the future. Nothing. Frustrated by the lack of answers, I turned to leave, already coming up with excuses for the princess in my head. As I stood in the doorway, he called me back. I’ll never know why. Maybe he just wanted someone to vent at and I happened to be there. What followed next was one of the strangest experiences of my life. Simply put, he told me everything, and the story that unfolded before me from his oddly quiet voice was one of the most fantastic and incredible tales I frankly believe has ever been told. All the while, he kept a small, sad smile on his face.

I would like to thank the readers and purchasers of this novel, as well as my friends and family for helping me get through writing this book. The story in these pages has changed my outlook on many things and I hope it will do the same for at least some of the people who read it. From now on, the story will be told in his words.

For my wife

Raven Rise

*****

Describe my first few minutes in the living world? Bright, definitely bright. Someone more poetic than myself might call it dazzling or even resplendent, but you know what? It was bright, so that’s what I’m going to say! And the colors! So many of them! As someone, or somepony now I guess, who was used to grey, grey, grey, black, red, more damn grey, this caught me off guard. I’m sure I must have looked like an idiot, standing there for, like, ten whole minutes just looking at all the greens and yellows and... freaking colors! But of course, I’m sure you’re thoroughly confused by now. Good. Eh, just kidding ya. Alright, I’ll start from the very, very beginning...

The first thing you need to understand is that I’m not a pony. I know, shocking right? Was it the horns or the four wings? To put it simply, I’m a demon. Or at least, that’s the name we’ve been given by most intelligent species for whatever reason. What does that mean? I’ll get to that later, okay? Right now I have to go through the annoying process of trying to explain Hell, or Tartarus as ponies call it.

Basically, Hell is divided into seven levels. Again, big shocker. And, just like the myths say, each level gets progressively worse as you go down. Dante Alighieri got some things right at least. What most of those stories fail to mention are the Archdemons, the rulers of the levels. They’re nasty characters, going from bad to worse and each one representing one of the sins. This is where my father comes in. His name is Ira, or Wrath, as it were. You know, the ‘hands that shed innocent blood’ guy. Yeah, not a pleasant hellspawn to be around. He’s the ruler of the sixth level. You can’t go much further down than that and trust me, I don’t know what you would have had to do in your life to end up in a place like the Sixth. Go much further and you’re in the territory of the big fiery guy we don’t talk about.

My father’s mansion (I guess you could call it that), called Vexertane, was perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking what was aptly named The Ash Lake. You know why? Because the shores are made up of the ashes of the burning damned souls... yeah, not even kidding on that one. Great place to grow up, don’t you think?

The palace was a gigantic black structure, hundreds of feet high and set back into the jagged rock. I could never quite determine what it was made of, but I had a hunch that it was actually hard-packed ashes from the shores of the lake, hauled up the cliff by souls shedding their own ashes on the beaches as they burned. Sadly, I was the only one who found that whole idea completely disgusting. Welcome to my family, folks. From a distance, its turrets looked like the spines of a dragon with its head underneath the steaming lake.

It consisted of dark, winding hallways and cavernous dungeons with seldom a torch to light anyone’s way. I guess it’s paradoxical to say something is creepy as hell when it’s in Hell itself, but there’s really no other way to describe my father’s castle. I swear, that place was almost alive. The walls oozed with the condensing steam from the lake and it seemed like you had been unknowingly ingested by some foul creature of the Seventh.

I seldom spent my time there, preferring to walk along the not-quite-so-dismal-but-still-pretty-awful shores of the Ash Lake. As disconcerting as it was to step on the ashes of burned souls, it was far better than constantly being under the conflicted and watchful eyes of my father and his cronies. They always seemed to keep a much closer eye on me than any of my siblings, which I found... really, really annoying to say the least.

Anyway, my mother was another powerful demon from the Fifth. One of the daughters of Greed, I believe. Ironic, seeing as how she joined with my father to gain power and wealth, if there is such a thing as wealth in Hell. Mostly power then I guess. And so, it is here that I come into the picture.

*****

From the moment I was born, it was obvious that I was a little off for a demon. I was smaller than your average baby/monster thing. My claws weren’t as long and my horns and spines not as large. My hair was white, unlike the blacks, greys and reds on the heads of most demons, something any self-respecting demon should be ashamed of. Ironic, I know. I grew up to be only eight feet tall, as opposed to the average eleven feet in the demon realm. Tiny and gentle, I really wasn't much of a demon as a kid. A small consolation for my family, however, is my wings. Now, most demons don’t have wings, contrary to popular belief. My father did, and they were a great source of pride for him. My mother didn’t have any at all. Me, on the other hand, I had four. Two sets of large black bat wings, one pair slightly smaller and situated just under the larger pair, so that they were covered completely when I folded them. How excited my parents were, for a while anyway.

When I was about ten I was wandering around the twisting halls of the palace in what I suppose would be Hell’s equivalent of late afternoon. I used to love exploring the place, no matter how scary it was. I came across a large door with an ornate design made of a material I had never seen before. It looked like your average grey rock, but it wasn’t. It was... shiny. Baffled, I examined the material and noted its smooth surface and glint in the distant torchlight. It had a large door handle made of the same stuff, which just happened to be unlocked.

Glancing around the hall for unexpected watchers, and seeing none, I turned the handle and opened the door. Much to my surprise, it swung open without a sound. Seeing that it was pitch black inside, I peered back outside the door and ran for the torch halfway down the hall. The door crashed behind me, echoing through the chamber. This room was much larger than I thought it would be.

Holding the torch up, I saw books. Tens, hundreds, thousands of books stretching away from the sputtering light I held. We, the Archdemon family of the Sixth, had a library. Looking at the floor, it seemed to be the only place in the whole Sixth level made of something other than ash or lava. My footsteps echoed regardless of how lightly I paced, my clawed feet tapping the floor. Shelves fifty feet high extended endlessly into the dark on either side of me, crammed with books of all colors and sizes.

What really struck me was how clean the place was. There was no ash on the floor or shelves, and many of the books looked like they had recently been handled. This actually managed to completely floor me. I had never before thought of anyone in my family as a reader, and I had certainly never thought any of them would have the time to maintain such a wonderful collection.

Having only ever seen about three books in my entire life, and each one of them a step by step guide to various demonic sacrifices, I was pleasantly surprised as an understatement. Seeing at least a hundred thousand of them all at once, I found myself unable to really think as I crossed the room.

I don’t know how long I continued to walk, so overwhelming was my wonder at the rows towering over me. Eventually, I reached the opposite wall and glanced back into the darkness behind me. I figured I must be deep into the cliffs by now, even though the walls were clean, unlike the rest of the castle. The room stretched out before me like the Seventh, consuming all light from my torch. I walked over to the nearest bookshelf and ran my fingers over the varied spines of volumes old and new.

My fingers tingled as I touched them. They were almost whispering to me. After pausing to listen for intruders, I carefully took a publication entitled 'Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone' off the shelf nearest me and opened the cover.

I read out loud. “As Daring Do tread through the tropical jungle, the wet heat sapped her energy and slowed her every step. If only she could escape this oppressive atmosphere and fly up into the cool blue sky, but her crash landing in the jungle had injured her wing and she was grounded for a few days.” Even these first few lines raised an insane amount of questions in my head. What’s a jungle? What does “wet” mean? What’s a sky? What’s an atmosphere? What is blue? Where is this place? Does it even exist? I was so overwhelmed by questions that I had to sit and breathe for a few minutes before I could continue reading.

“‘A few days. It might as well be a few months, or a few years!' she cried. The mosquitos buzzed loudly, the macaws cried from the high trees, yet all of these distracting noises were not enough to cover the sound of the predators that were following her every step.”

I think it was at this point that I started hyperventilating, but I really can't be sure. I knew at that point I would remember those lines for the rest of my life. The story itself seemed a little bland to me, like your standard adventure story I’d heard about, but the setting was so captivating I couldn’t think. I couldn’t possibly imagine what mosquitoes or macaws or predators or trees were, but from what I could tell they were other sorts of things, possibly dangerous creatures, that lived in whatever this place was.

I don’t know how long I read for, I was so enthralled by the world in which the story was set. I couldn't think what anything in this world looked or sounded like, and I was desperate to find more. However, fearing it must be getting late and my father expected me as usual, I stowed the book back on its shelf, picked up the torch, and left the library, the ornate door clicking behind me.

*****

It turns out that I had another card to play as I grew up. At the age of ten I learned how to walk, and it wasn’t until later that I discovered the huge aging gap between myself and most mortals. Anyway, around the time I learned to walk, I developed a new ability, one that has never been fully explained away, even by myself. I could blink. No, not with my eyes, that would just be dumb. I could, and still can, go from point A to point C with no point B in between instantaneously, hence “blinking.” I was here and then I was there, and it is this that has shaped who I have become.

The first time I blinked, I had snuck down to the library to read more of the Daring Do series. I had finished the first one and had discovered that were were approximately twenty books taking Daring Do on all kinds of adventures in all kinds of places, from jungles to deserts to mountains to forests to glaciers and everything in between. It didn't matter what any of these were. It seemed to me that this world was real. It was so intricately woven, and all of the creatures (at least, that was what I assumed they were) seemed to fit right into their environments.

It also appeared that Daring Do was… a pony, a bizarre creature that seemed to be like a smaller and significantly nicer version of the giant skeletal demon mounts my father used to pull his black spiny chariot of doom (yep, that's its name and I'm sticking to it). It seemed as though this world was mostly populated by small talking horses, some of which were able to fly, or do magic, or, very rarely, both. I sat in my favorite spot, right where I had deemed the center of the library, contemplating all this when I heard the door open and my father's deep booming voice echo through the room.

"I know there's a way to do it. I've spent all my time in here trying to figure out how to find it and destroy it, so that little welp of yours doesn't fly right up into the world when we're not looking!"

"How could you think Lacuna could ever accomplish such a thing? He has no idea the living world exists! And if he did, he would never be able to imagine it," replied the harsh, rasping whisper of my mother.

"I don't care. It's still best to get rid of it. No one down here will complain, certainly. And besides, I've been a little suspicious of him lately." Their voices were getting closer to me. I wished desperately to be elsewhere, in my chamber, on the shores of the lake, anywhere but here, where I knew I wasn't supposed to be.

I found it odd that my parents were actually talking about me, though, as well as this "living world."  Apparently their four-winged, white-haired son actually was worth discussing, but if they had found out I was listening in, I would probably have been cast into the lake. If only I could be there, right now, jogging along its shores, alone with my thoughts. I closed my eyes and hoped they didn't see me.

And then, their voices were gone. I opened my eyes. There I was, standing on the shore of the lake at least a mile from the castle. I closed my eyes again. I had to be imagining it. But no, there was the ash between my toes, the bubbling of the lava churning in the lake to my right, the wails of tiny souls as they drifted along, crumbling into ash, the bloodcurdling cry of a skullpion. When opening my eyes again, I saw the castle in the distance, the ashes swirling around it in the spurts of steam from the lake.

I couldn't believe it. I had blinked. I'd only heard of it once, maybe twice, before, in stories of old that had been passed down through my family for generations. Apparently only one demon every thousand years or so possessed this ability. And I had it. I had to test it, this was too good to be true! I drew an X in the ash with my toe and walked about ten feet away, closing my eyes and wanting to be back on that X. I felt my ears pop and heard a small fizzle. I felt the indents in the ash and opened my eyes. There was the X, right beneath my feet.

Reflecting back on how I managed to do it the first time, something occurred to me. My parents were talking about me, but they were also talking about the living world. They knew it existed, and now I did too. It was real, it had to be or my father wouldn't bother bringing it up.

My father had also said something about there being an entrance to the living world. How incredible it would be to see it for myself! I spent the next eight hours walking along the lake, my mind racing. There was a way out of Hell itself. I could go to the living world and find out what trees and creatures and blue and red and yellow and green were. I could see what ponies looked like and what they did and how they lived. I could leave this place forever. And it was at that point that I decided I was going to.

Chapter the Continuation of the Prologue

I paced determinedly on, my mind racing on ahead of me. Slowly, a shadow on my left came into view and I realized I had wandered all the way to the old ruin of Sunderbane's fortress, forger of the Scythe of Belial. I didn't know much of the legends at that point, but I did recall something about the Scythe. Wielded by Sunderbane himself in the Old Wars, battling the Sixth Archdemon empire, the Scythe had the ability cut through the levels of Hell itself and draw demons from other realms into the Sixth. Sunderbane had used this ability and his massive army of support from the Third and Fourth to lead a mighty assault against my ancestors... and had been subsequently squashed like the wyrmling he was. What? I can’t have some family pride as well sometimes, as much as I despise them?

Turns out you can only draw demons from levels less depressing than the one you're standing in. Sunderbane's downfall had come when he had tried to call demons from the Seventh as a last ditch effort at victory, sucked into the darkness of the hole he tore in the ground of the Sixth. The Archdemon family had clung desperately onto the cliffs and narrowly escaped. The Scythe had landed on the edge of the hole as it freed itself of Sunderbane's grasp, and the Archdemon Ruler, Mephisto, had taken it up, enthralled by its power but too scared to use it. Mephisto held the Scythe from there, and secured it somewhere within the Sixth so it would never be used again.

I approached the ruin, scaling the cliffs up to the darkened fortress. The stone crumbled beneath my claws as I climbed. Even though I was small for a demon, I was still the son of the greatest demon warrior alive, and the climb up the cliffs a small feat from much practice. Falling rocks made divots in the ash beneath me, stirring up clouds of charred souls. I shivered and kept climbing.

As soon as I reached the top of the cliffs and stared out over the ruins, however, a deep, bloodcurdling shout came echoed through the whole level.

"LAAAAACUUUNAAAA!!!!"

My father was calling, using an simple amplification spell. It startled me, but I was used to it by then. However, I had never been fifty miles away from Vexertane when he called. Frantically, I tried to think of what I should do. I could call back, but it sounded like he wanted me in Vexertane immediately. I could run or walk, but that would take too long. I could fly, but that would still take longer than the time I had.

Then I remembered. I got here by blinking, and damn it, I could get back the same way! I closed my eyes and thought of my chambers. I would have gone directly to my father, but I thought that appearing out of nowhere in the throne room with a puff of black shadows wasn't the best idea. When I opened my eyes, I stood in the middle of my black-walled chambers, my barbed furniture taking shape as I phased into the room. Immediately, I turned and ran to the door, wrenched it open, and slammed it shut, shaking the walls and cracking the doorframe as I flew as fast as I could to the throne room. Oops.

I composed myself outside the door and walked in. My father sat atop the giant obsidian (seriously) throne on the far side of the room, tangled black brows furrowed. His gargantuan wings stretched up behind him, slick and black like mine. His spines bristled, quivering in the flickering light of the room. His muscles were flexed, warping the tattooed designs on his skin into grotesque figures.

I walked toward the front of the room, passing pillars crawling with carved designs of demons. They appeared to be watching me as I went by. Eventually, I arrived at the base of the stairs to the throne and said, "Hello, father. You were expecting me?"

"Where were you?" he said quietly. Him quiet was infinitely more dangerous than him loud. Many times, he would chop off the heads of those who displeased him without a word.

Fearing his anger, I told him the truth. "Walking along the lake. Anything wrong, father?"

"No, no, I was just wondering where you were. You've been gone for a while." He was far too calm.

"Well, that's where I was."

"Alright, alright, you can go." I got up, bowed, and paced back down the room, not daring to look back at him. As soon as I was outside, I blinked back to my own quarters and sat on the bed. Running the grey fabric through my claws, I thought about my father's opinion of me. I knew he hated me. There was no way to deny that fact. And though I didn't exactly care most of the time, I had always had difficulty staying composed in front of him when I could feel his glare upon me. Especially when he was quiet. Though I had four wonderful wings, I was emotional, hating fights, no matter how good I was at them. And white-haired demons are always shunned under the belief that they are lightspawn, or bizarre forces of good in Hell.

In short, I had a very dismal upbringing, but I believe that’s already been established.

*****

Essentially, I grew up alone. No friends, no family, nothing but my own thoughts really. Everypony usually thinks that the youngest of five is the cutest or whatever, but demons don't exactly appreciate cute. On top of that, I was the one with the white hair. And though I was taken care of by my parents and siblings when I was young, I noticed around the age of five that they seemed to fight over who had to look after me. Other demons growing up in the castle appeared to be under strict orders from either my parents or theirs to keep away from me. I had no one to talk to except for my sister, Lunea, who had a single lock of white hair growing from the left side of her head, surrounded by the mass of black. And even she didn't talk much.

However, I suppose I don't give her enough credit for her efforts to make me happy when I was little. Whenever my brothers made fun of me, she would defend me and tell them to pick on her instead, and find me hiding when I'd gotten away from their taunts. So when I became old enough to wield a blade of any kind, I swore I would become the best fighter in the Sixth. A stupid idea, to be sure, but I had to try something to appear less weak. I soon found I hated fighting, but I forced myself to learn, constantly going until none of my fathers’ soldiers could match me for blade or power. None of this changed the fact that I still didn’t want to fight in the first place.

Therefore, as I have mentioned earlier, I spent most of my time away from the mansion, fearing and hating the eyes of my father and his followers. I’d much rather take my chances with the lava wyrms and the giant skullpions than be anywhere near that accursed place. The only reason I ever set foot in the so called palace was because my father ordered it forcefully, or when I went to the library. And I did that a lot. It was where I learned about lore, magic, demon history, and of course, the existence of the living world.

Now that I could blink, I would simply walk to a place no one could see me and instantly transport myself to my favorite spot in the library. I quickly finished the Daring Do series, and fashioned myself a notebook about the living world and my thoughts about it based upon my knowledge of demon anatomy. I had no idea if it was accurate at all, but the creatures seemed to have similar anatomy to some demons, but usually without the spines, or horns, or affinity for fire and darkness. With the inference that ponies populated and civilized what I believed to be the only world, and appeared to have written most of the books, I focused mostly on them.

One of the books I found toward the back of the library was a volume ages old, with the ancient history of the living world, Equestria. Its stories included the founding of the land, as well as the dark periods in its time, but one story in particular really captivated me.

One of the last chapters told me that Equestria was ruled by two immortal alicorns, Celestia and Luna, representing the sun and the moon, which appeared to be objects that floated through the air and gave light to the land. I couldn't really imagine what such a thing would look like, but a ball of fire floating above my head seemed like a pretty hellish thing, to be perfectly honest. Apparently one of the alicorns, Luna, had turned on her sister and become a demon of sorts herself, unleashing her jealousy on all the world, shrouding it in darkness. As punishment, Celestia had imprisoned her in the moon for a thousand years. I didn't know if she was back on not, but in any case I felt kind of sorry for her, something I had never thought my admittedly sarcastic personality was capable of.

The funny thing about the story was that this Luna character seemed to have a strange likeness to myself. Misunderstood and under-appreciated by those around her, all Luna wanted was to be loved. And because of this, she was feared by her subjects. I left the library reluctantly. Surely there was a way out of here. There just had to be.

*****

And so, once again, I found myself slowly trudging down the shore of the Ash Lake. Surprise sur-freakin’-prise. Seemed to be a recurring theme. I had become deaf to the world, lost in my thoughts as I walked. There had to be some way out of here. I knew there had to be. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. It seemed like the answer would be obvious, which frustrated me all the more. It slipped my mind like the bizarre concept of soap I had read about in my studies. I was so deep in thought I was oblivious to my surroundings.

Of course this, among many things, was not my smartest idea, because I didn’t notice the boulder the bone giant threw at me. Seriously, didn’t even manage to see the twenty-foot-high skeleton throw a two ton rock at my head until the shadow of the boulder blocked out some of the weird ambient light of the Sixth.

Noticing the hurtling object out of the corner of my eye, I quickly blinked about five feet to my immediate left, the stone crashing down in a spray of dust and blinding ash. Sighing with exasperation at having my train of thought violently derailed with many casualties from the crash, I stepped out around the boulder and looked at the bone giant with a raised eyebrow.

“Careful now!” I shouted, “you could have hurt someone with that thing!”

The giant just watched me silently, which made sense seeing as how it didn’t have lungs... or vocal chords... or organs and muscles of any description for that matter. Actually, how did those things even work? I shrugged to myself, filing that thought away for future contemplation, realizing the skeleton was still just ‘watching’ me. I decided to play with it some more.

“So, lovely weather we’ve been having!” I called out. I wasn’t entirely sure what weather was, but I had read enough to make an educated guess. This time, the giant moved at least, reaching to grab another boulder from the large stack of the things it had built up.

“Yeah, not happening,” I muttered, ripping a fist-sized chunk out of the rock next to me. I cocked my arm back and chucked it, nailing the creature on the forehead. Its skull detached with a satisfying thunk and bounced down the shore into the lake, disappearing with a fizzle. Sickened, I turned and began to trudge back to the palace, contemplating the events of the past minute or so. I never had really liked fighting much.

Sighing sadly at the needless conflict, I continued walking, trying to salvage any survivors from the burning wreckage of my earlier thought processes before I had been so rudely interrupted. Slowly, my thoughts turned away from the crumbling behemoth behind me and back to the living world.

There had to be some way out. You couldn’t just lock the Archdemons in their respective levels, could you? You couldn’t unleash demons on the world and take possession of mortals without a door to that world, could you?

As far as I knew, the only being who could freely travel between levels was the big guy on the Seventh, but he never went anywhere. He just sat in the darkness and decay, rotting in his own pride. There was my mother of course, but that was a special occasion arranged by the big boss man himself. Other than that, the Sixth War and the Scythe of Belial were the only other recorded incident of anything traveling between the levels.

I stopped dead in my tracks. The Scythe. The damn Scythe! How did I not think of it before? Sunderbane had used the Scythe of Belial to cut his way down to the Sixth, surveyed the place and had then cut his way back UP to gather his armies! That was it! If I could find the Scythe, I could slice my way through the fabric of Hell and into the living world. Of course, I wasn’t sure if the Scythe could even cut an opening out completely, but once I got to the First, then there had to be a way out from there.

Now then, where was that scythe kept? Oh wait, something, something, something, hidden so that no one could use it. Well crap son, there goes that idea. I gave another woeful sigh, something I do quite often, and blinked all the way back to my room in the palace, flopping down on the monstrosity of a bed and groaning.

“Why can’t everything just be easy and go exactly the way I want it to!” I moaned. Not sure how long I lay there before wrapping my wings around myself and drifting off into peaceful sleep.

*****

I dreamed that time. I was standing in an open area. Something whispered through my hair, cool and crisp. Wind. It was dark, but a soft pale light shown over everything, illuminating the clearing. I drank it in. Those tall things must be trees! This stuff under my toes is grass and dirt! And that means that thing up there was the... moon. La bella Luna.

I stared at it for a very long time, watching the stars twinkle around it. It was beautiful, there was no other way to say it! The ghostly white light created a stark contrast with the shadows of the swaying trees, glinting in my hair. I don’t know what it was, but the moonlight gave me a strange sense of peace I’d never really felt before. I stood looking at the intricate silver disk before me for a minute until I averted my eyes to the rest of the world. A pale light, a hue I had never seen before, seemed to flit before me as I looked away. I paused in wonderment, then continued my observations.

I turned a full circle, absorbing everything I could. Was this what the living world was like? Is this what it felt like to breathe cold air, have nothing but the sky above your head, smell the warm scent of leaves? I returned my gaze to the moon, studying it closely. It was a full moon, as far as I knew, and that wasn’t much. It got smaller from this point, right? I reached out a hand and made as if to grab it, closing my hand gently around the soft white sphere, drawing it closer to my eyes for further examination. And this is where the dream got really weird.

I opened my hand and in it was a key. It was a large ornate key made of heavy black iron and inscribed with a line of text along the side which read, “Quod per ignem et flammam ferat.” Through the fire and the flames we carry on. I recognized the key. It was the one that opened the lock to my father’s personal armory, in which he kept his sawtooth armor and his mighty helliron greatsword Kebakaran. Was that where the Scythe was held? In my father’s storage closet of death? Because if so, I was out! I was not going to deal with that! Nuh-uh, no way in... Hell?

But then again, what other choice did I have? The Scythe really was my only option if I ever wanted to escape, well, my life! I wanted to live in a world like the dream I was having, and I was willing to do anything to get it. Granted, if I was caught sneaking into my father’s private chambers, I was dead. Seriously dead. You think I’m kidding? No! My father would quite literally feed me to the lava sharks! Still, this was something I had to do. I had to feel the wind, smell the sweet fresh air, I had to see the moon...

Chapter the First... Wait no, Still the Prologue

I awoke slowly, blinking the sleep from my eyes. Sitting up with a groan, I sighed inwardly. “If only that dream could have lasted a little while longer,” I said quietly to no one in particular. Standing and stretching, I surveyed my room. What was I going to need to pull this off? I now knew that the Scythe was in my father’s armory. Getting there without anyone spotting me would be difficult but not impossible.

Sadly, I found myself unable to blink in. I don’t know what my ancestors had done to that place, but I couldn’t bring up its image in my mind. No thoughts, no teleporting, but that wasn’t too bad. I knew the palace well enough to be able to sneak around most of the trafficked areas, but  knew I would have to cross the main antechamber at some point. It was nearly as big as the throne room itself, stretching nine twenty-foot floors tall and a hundred feet wide. Essentially, it divided the castle in half, and the place I needed to go to wasn’t on my side. Literally and figuratively.

The key, on the other hand, was a very different and much more challenging prospect. That was kept in a glass case, presumably protected with magic, in my father’s bedroom. Not the safest place to put it but he had made the assumption that no one would ever go in there, least of all me. He was, of course, completely correct because there were few places I would rather not be. But you know what? It was time to male demon up! I was going to get that key if it killed me, which it very well could.

I cracked the door to my chambers open, peering down the hallway to check for servants, or worse, my siblings. The last thing I needed was to run into Sergei or one of my other brothers, who would inevitably find some way to mess everything up. Maybe I could find a chance to see Lunea before I left. Of all the demons here, she was the only one I could conceivably miss. And I owed her all those years she stuck up for me.

I left my room and began to slowly pace down the long, dark hallway, my clawed toes clicking on the hard ash flooring. I made sure to try and look as normal and disinterested as I normally was, which of course, simply made me look suspicious. I passed by various demons of all shapes and sizes, colors and types. You had your incubi and your succubi, your wyrms and your gorgons. Little imps scurried up and down the halls carrying messages and objects throughout the palace at the bidding of my family. I watched it all with a apathetic eye, now and again kicking an imp out of the way to keep up the act.

I continued like this for a little while, slowly working my way through the winding passages, up and down dark staircases, taking a roundabout way to the royal chambers, skirting the more populated areas when I could manage it. As I neared the chambers, the crowds thinned out and I was soon walking alone with nothing to hear but my own footsteps. I was almost there. Just a few more minutes.

Of course, it would have been boring if everything had just gone as planned, so naturally I ran into my brother Sergei. I swiftly blinked into a small hidden alcove off the main corridor, hoping against that he hadn’t seen me. I heard his footsteps stop at the intersection.

“Well, brother,” He called out to the empty air, “I’m not sure what you’re doing skulking around, but I’m sure our dear old dad would take quite an interest in it. Maybe I’ll go tell him that you were sneaking again. You know how he hates that!” His iron-spiked boots clattered on the floor as he turned in circles, presumably looking for me. I could just imagine the overabundance of shredded red and black fabric swooshing around his oh-so-majestic ten feet seven inches, his spiked hair sticking in place from all of the... whatever it was that he put in it.

‘Fashionable,’ he called it. ‘Ugly’ I had said, and then he had thrown me through a wall, smiling all the while and talking nonchalantly about my “terrible” choice of simple black garb. He’s flamboyant, is what I’m trying to get across. It’s more than annoying.

“Now, Lacuna, we don’t want to disappoint daddy, do we? Why don’t you come on out and talk to me and we can arrange something to keep me quiet? I think an explanation of what you’re doing would suffice, don’t you?”

Of course I saw right through it, recognizing the attempt to have my father potentially execute me. I’d fallen for Sergei’s little “deals” before, and none of them had ended well, to say the least. So, of course, I said nothing and stood perfectly still right where I was, hardly daring to breathe. I looked toward the wall opposite me at the flickering shadows from the torch around the corner, and attempted to discern any movement he might have made. But given the oscillating nature of fire, I found this rather difficult and instead relied on my ears to determine his location.

The infrequent and nearly silent tapping of his feet on the ash floor indicated that he wasn’t moving much. Straining to pick out which direction he was moving, if any, I inevitably became unaware of all of my other surroundings. Though it was amusing to hear his futile attempt to find me, as I had moved to a place where it would be difficult to find me, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end like imps at attention. Straining to pick out which direction he was moving, if any, I inevitably became unaware of all of my other surroundings.

I didn’t know she was behind me until something, presumably her hand, touched my shoulder. I jumped about ten feet in the air and whirled around, looked up, and strained to keep in a sigh of relief at the sight of my sister, Lunea. Her white-flecked grey eyes bored into mine and made her concern and confusion at the present situation more than evident. As soon as I had my wits about me once more, she leaned in and whispered to me.

“What in the Seventh are you doing here? What’s going on?” she frantically implored.

“Apparently I’m looking too suspicious for Sergei. Again,” I replied, hoping she’d save my neck one more time. I already owed her more than a few favors, though she had never actually wanted me to do anything for her. On the contrary, she had always insisted that I shouldn’t. Unlike anyone else who might do me a favor. I just hoped my luck would keep up with me this time. If all went well, this would be the last time she ever did something like this for me.

“Ah, I see. Well, you stay here. I’ll see what I can do with this little twerp.” With that, she spun around and ducked out of the alcove. Her long black hair with its one white streak circled around her and fell neatly down her back as she crept into the hall. I peeked my head out to watch the fireworks. And boy, was it a show.

“Hey, dimwit. I see you’ve done your hair just as elegantly as usual. You compensating for something?” she jeered, her face contorting into a smirk. She walked past Sergei so she was facing me, and so Sergei wouldn’t see me as I watched. She was getting good at this.

“Yes, in fact. I’m overcompensating for your lack of hygiene,” Sergei sneered. “Honestly darling, how much ash do you have under your claws today? Enough to make another beach? And what’s that white streak in your hair? Got some lightspawn attached to you?” Lunea’s brows knitted together and her hands clenched slightly, but she stayed put. “Besides, what are you doing down here anyway? Getting dangerously close to dad’s stomping grounds, aren’t we?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Sergei, but I think we both already know. Why do you keep shouting for Lacuna? He’s probably in his room like he always is. Go bug him there or something.” She said in her ‘I’m getting angry’ voice. Okay, so that last part wasn’t exactly conducive to my overall well-being, but I appreciated her trying to get him to leave.

“How do you know he’s there if you never saw him? I could have sworn he was here! He ducked right into that hallway you came out of!” Sergei was already getting peeved. He always did have a short temper behind all that glamour. “Why don’t you go find him yourself if you’re so ‘concerned’ about him.”

“I never said I didn’t see him, did I? You’re making assumptions again, Sergei. You seem to have a problem with that. I’d watch what I said if I were you. You never know who’s around,” taunted Lunea as she looked around for added effect. I ducked back into the alcove as Sergei looked behind him, falling for Lunea’s trick. Within seconds, she was inches in front of him. He turned around and jumped about ten feet in the air, just like I had when I saw her. She seemed to have an uncanny ability to appear right in front of people without them noticing.

“What, are you scared of me, Sergei?” she whispered menacingly, glaring at him. Though he was easily a foot and a half taller than her and three times as strong, his shoulders slumped forward and his eyes widened and darted around as he looked for a place to hide. Of course he would never admit it, but he was terrified of her. And I have to say, I was too. At least she was on my side.

“No. Why would I be scared of you?” he lied, looking at his feet.

“You know, Sergei, I don’t see why you can’t leave our brother alone. What did he ever do to you?” Lunea whispered. Her glare became etched in her face as she waited for a response. When none came, she scoffed, “Well?”

“Uhhh... n-nothing, I guess,” Sergei squeaked. Some of his hair fell out of place and he timidly reached up to fix it.

“Then leave,” finished Lunea, pointing down the hall. “I don’t want to see you down here again today, you sniveling cretin. Now, get out.”

Relieved to be released, Sergei bolted, tripping over his over-decorated feet as he ran like he had just suffered father’s wrath, but not without shooting a hateful glance behind him. Lunea sighed in discontent and walked back to me. I knew she enjoyed fighting about as much as I did. I appreciated that she was willing to stand up for me, something I’d never really considered before.

“So, what was that all about?” she asked. “You’re never down here. There’s got to be a reason.” Oh wait, now I had to explain stuff. Dangit.

“Ummm, nothing really. I was just, you know, having a look around. Nothing important or life changing or super dangerous!” I wanted to stuff that back in my mouth; I sounded more than stupid. Lunea raised an eyebrow, giving me about the most skeptical look of all time. She wasn’t fooled. Then again, she never was.

“Right, and I’m a unicorn with wings that can control various elements of life” she said sarcastically. I almost choked on the irony of that statement. “Seriously now, what are you doing here? Do you have any idea what Ira will do to us if he finds us? You specifically. Sergei is fine in this part of the castle, dad likes him. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re not fine here. Now let’s go before someone else comes wandering around.” She started dragging me away by the arm. I dug my clawed feet into the ash and brought us to a halt. Great. Now my father would know that somebody had been here.

I tried to change the subject. “Well, what are you doing down here? You’re never near dad’s rooms either.” She recognized my evasion, of course, but maybe I could still find some way to escape without her harping on me, or worse, ratting me out.

“Are you kidding me? You’d have to be deaf to not hear that moron brother of ours. I figured you were getting yourself into trouble again.”

“No, Lunea, there’s something I need to do down here,” I said patiently. “Something really important.” I looked at her, almost pleadingly. She raised her eyebrow again. I sighed. “And yeah, it might get me into trouble. Scratch that, it will.”

“Well, what is it?”

I sighed again. “Now, this is going to sound crazy, but I’m trying to get out of here. Out of this castle, out of the Sixth, out of Hell entirely. I’m trying to go to the living world. Please, don’t tell anyone. You of all demons know what dad would do if he found out.”

Lunea’s eyes widened in shock, and her already pale skin became even paler. “You’re right, that is crazy, you’re crazy! Now come back with me or I’ll knock the crap out of you and drag you with me!”

“Lunea, no!” I almost shouted. Looking around to make sure no one had heard us, I whispered,” Hear me out on this one. I don’t belong here. I’ve read all about the living world. It’s amazing! There’s wind and water and dirt and sky and clouds and even though I only have a vague idea of what those are I need to see them. I need to know that there is a place that isn’t here... a place that’s for me... and I’m going to use the Scythe to do it.” I was breathless after my rant, hoping that she’d believe me.

“The Scythe? You mean THE Scythe? You’re not just crazy. You’re insane! How in the Seventh are you going to pull this one off?” Lunea was doing her best not to raise her voice and draw attention to us, for which I was... grateful to say the least. The last thing I needed was somebody to come along, especially if that somebody was another family member.

“Good question. I figured just stealing it and sneaking off with it would work. It’s not like he’s concerned with it, right? Nobody’s tried to use it in at least a thousand years. Why would he worry now?”

“Umm. Do you even know where the Scythe of Belial is?”

“Probably in dad’s closet of doom, with all of his other torture devices and sharp, pointy objects.” I said proudly, glad that I at least knew some of what I was talking about.

“Okay then, how are you going to get it without the key?”

Crap. The key.

“Uhhhh... I guess I’ll just have to find the key.” I’d been so focused on getting to the Scythe that I’d forgotten entirely about the only way to access it.

“Uh huh. You do that,” Lunea scoffed. “We’ll see where you end up in a few days.” She sounded pretty pissed. Who could blame her at this point? Her little brother was on a mad quest that would probably find him dead sooner or later.

“Please, Lunea.” I said. “I need to do this. Do you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I don’t need to tell anyone. Someone will find out eventually.”

“They won’t know where I’ve gone other than... well... not here,” I said uneasily.  “But they’re going to ask you. You of all demons would know. You can’t tell them.”

“They won’t ask if you don’t go in the first place.”

“Well, I’m going, whether you like it or not.”

She sighed and fell silent. I could see her weighing her options, almost mathematically. After about ten seconds, she looked at me and said, “Fine. I won’t tell. But don’t come asking me for help, because you won’t get it.”

“Alright. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some... some treasure hunting to do.” I turned and started walking down the hall toward my father’s rooms, but Lunea’s hand caught my shoulder again and spun me around. She smiled at me, a kind, sad smile. Damn, I was going to miss her.

“Be careful, okay?”

I sighed again. I was glad she was looking out for me. I figured that was probably a good thing in case something went wrong. I smiled back at her, trying to emulate her gentle countenance.

“I will.”

“I’m here if you change your mind,” she said as a last-ditch attempt to get me to stay.

“I know.” At least I had someone to come back to. The sad thing was, I probably wouldn’t come back. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently. Her eyes seemed to be pleading with me, begging me to stay even though she knew there wasn’t a chance.

“Will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

With this, she stepped forward and took me in an immense hug, nearly squeezing me to death. Having never been hugged before, I awkwardly reached my hands around her and hugged her back.

“Good luck, brother.”

“Thanks.” I left her at in the middle of the hall and continued walking on my own. My footsteps and heartbeat echoed like a lonely drum in an execution procession. When I reached the end of the passageway, I turned back, but she was gone. I was on my own.

Chapter the I Swear this is Last Prologue! Seriously!

A curious thing to think about, how there are points in your life where every detail becomes a part of you, where every irrelevant matter matters for a split second. Where the shadows of your past dance on your fingertips, and your deep-buried secrets weave into your very clothes. Your universe is your own, yet you only make up a tiny thread of it, and you have all control and none over what you do and what happens to you. You are alive and dead to the world.

It was here, as I walked down that passageway, sealing my fate for better or for worse, that I became aware of this. The torches flickered on my skin even through the layers of ash, exposing everything about me should anyone find me. I kept walking. I was the hallway, I was the torches, and I was the ground upon which my feet gently placed themselves so as to keep moving. My whole life hung in a careful balance of disappearing and staying put, being discovered and remaining silent.

The torches glowed dimmer and dimmer as I descended into the passages, headed toward near-certain destruction. Winding staircases beckoned, inviting me to plunge into the depths of the castle. With so much at stake, and with so little time, there was no way I was taking any risks. I had only really seen this part of the castle when I was younger because... well... I may or may not have done a considerable amount of sneaking around in my childhood. This time, however, was different. It wasn’t just childish games anymore. My heart pounded louder at this prospect. I hoped desperately my memory would not fail me.

Just when I thought I’d gotten lost, the nearly pitch-black passageways opened up to a sizable antechamber, just as I remembered. Ash gargoyles stood sentinel at the door, which was a massive black carving of every type of demon imaginable, with the words Intrant, et peribunt. Insidet hie igne irae inscribed in ornate lettering across the arching frame. Well, that was reassuring. I paused, facing the door. Behind it lay the difference between life and death, the way out or the way to stay in forever. I stood, contemplating this. For how long, I don’t know.

A thunderous noise (I think it was a footstep or an angry Ira falling out of bed) brought me back to my senses. My heart froze in my chest and tried to crawl out of my mouth. I was paralyzed, unable to think of a place to hide. I inhaled slowly and surveyed my surroundings. There appeared to be a small crevice between a column and the ledge surrounding the top of the door frame. Knowing I couldn’t possibly climb without damaging something, I blinked there and curled up in a ball, hardly daring to breathe.

Ira threw the door open a few minutes later and emerged with an expression on his face that would have warranted fire spewing from his eye sockets. Luckily, that doesn’t happen, even in the sixth level of Hell. The door crashed into the column I was perched on and violently shook the entire antechamber. I kept my balance, but only narrowly. He was grumbling about something, but I couldn’t decipher his guttural snarling through the ruckus he’d engendered. Hopefully Sergei hadn’t informed him of anything. Otherwise, I was dead meat. Probably worse than dead meat, actually.

He stormed off down the hall, his claws ripping gashes on the floor, tearing up clouds of ash. Yeah, he was that mad. It was at least a minute before the ashes settled and I could no longer hear his ongoing rampage. I silently blinked back down to the floor and slunk my way across the hall, daring to peek into the royal chambers themselves.

Having never seen them before, I took a moment to stand there and take in what I could see before I even could bring myself to step inside. The chambers were dark, just like everything else I suppose. It looked like someone had taken my room and roughly doubled its size honestly. I wasn’t really that impressed, practically disappointed. You had your standard oversized wardrobe, your average giant 4-poster bed with average black curtains, your totally nondescript glass case containing a large grey and black iron key. Wait, hold on a second!

I did a double take. There was the key, right there in a large glass display case against the far wall! I crossed the room in a single blink, stopping myself just before snatching the key. Now wait a minute, I thought to myself, this can’t possibly be that easy. I stood and contemplated that key for a while, getting a couple of false starts. Reaching out and snatching my hand back like I expected it to bite me or blow my arm off, which I guess was entirely a possibility. I took a deep breath, shot my hand out, opened the case, grabbed the key and leapt back. Nothing happened.

I stayed there for about a minute, waiting for some horrible body-rending curse to tear me apart, rend my muscle from bone and blood and everything in between. Everything was quiet except for my heart and lungs. I could almost hear my blood flowing. No alarm sounded, no imps came to maim me, nothing.

I don’t know how long I stood there. It could have been a second, or an hour. I slowly turned the key over in my hand. It was black with slightly raised grey designs, similar to the ones I had seen on his door. Inscribed among the miniscule demons were the words  “Quod per ignem et flammam ferat,” just like they were in my dream. I stared at it disbelief. Here it was, the key to all of my father’s weapons, and by extension, the Scythe and all the family secrets it carried with it. All of that... with just a piece of black and grey iron.

I replaced the lid of the case and turned to leave with the key in my hand. I wondered whether it would have been a good idea to make a fake one... I should have done that. But it was too late now. I poked my head around the door and scanned the passageway for any signs of life. Seeing and hearing nothing, I turned left and paced off sixty-six steps down the hallway. I knew it was there. I stopped and turned my head to the left.

There it stood, a gargantuan monolith easily twenty feet tall. The door to the armory. Its black face was impressed with eight words; “Flammis in regnum aeternum, ut sedeant ad pugnam.” I couldn’t see a keyhole. I slowly approached the door, looking to either side of me once more, scrutinizing the darkness for unwanted visitors.

When I reached the door, I ran my fingers over its jagged black surface, searching for a keyhole. After some scouring, my claw snagged. There it was. Whipping out the key, I slowly inserted it into its rightful place and was rewarded with a satisfying click and pop. The door was unlocked. I swung it open and stepped into the darkness beyond.

There was no echo in my footsteps. This must be some sort of antechamber. The armory itself couldn’t possibly be this small, I told myself. Though it was pitch black, I started walking, my hands out in front of me in case I ran into something.

I had figured the room couldn’t be more than about ten feet across, but as I continued walking, my eyes adjusted and I passed the outlines of weapons. This was the armory, a long, narrow hallway lined with weapons. Swords and daggers, spears and glaives, forged for the masses of imps and gorgons that fought in the Old Wars against Sunderbane, or at least, the ones that survived, peppered the racks and shelves. As I moved farther back, gargantuan battle axes, halberds, and scythes designed for humanoid warriors on demon horses took shape. Suits of armor built for larger demons stood sentinel in between racks of lances and morningstars. I even passed my father’s own armor and greatsword, towering over the other weapons. But as I reached the end of the room, nothing could have prepared me for monstrosities looming in the darkness, horrors I had only heard of in stories.

There they stood, colossal curved blades at least fifteen feet high, radiating a faint red glow within the designs on the enchanted steel. At their bases were massive cuffs to fit over the arms of their bearers; the Excubiars, immense war machines with no purpose other than complete and utter destruction. Lovely. They towered over me, even though they weren’t attached to anything other than the stands which held them up. I examined their honed edges, riddled with holes and barbs for a swifter kill. At the top, along where the top of the forearm presumably was meant to fit, was a spike with a dulled edge on the back. I figured it could actually be a decent refuge spot... if you managed to get up there. And surely the Excubiar would do away with you in good time anyway.

None of the behemoths remained anywhere in hell now, at least to my knowledge, and it had been that way for as long as anyone could remember. Whatever demon found themselves in possession of their weapons was a very lucky one indeed. These blades, when paired and strapped onto the arms of an Excubiar, were fabled to have the ability to wipe out entire hordes of enemies. The monstrosity of metal would swing them in a whirling arc, low to the ground and slice armies clean in half in a great wave of demonic energy. I, for one, was more than glad they were no longer in existence, and that all that remained were their towering weapons, safely separated from their inactive bodies.

As my eyes continued to adjust to the darkness, a slightly lighter shape came into view between the two Excubiars. It had to be the door leading to the Scythe. Such a powerful weapon would require... tighter security. I explored the door, looking for a handle or keyhole, but found none on its entire smooth surface. How was I supposed to get in? There had to be a way. I paced back through the armory and out the door, propping it open with a knife off one of the racks. I grabbed a torch in the hall and carried it in for better light.

I scoured the shelves and racks for anything that might be of use to me in getting through the door at the other end. It could be anything. A certain weapon to remove, a place to push, a written or spoken password, or any combination of those. I even started pushing on individual stones in the walls to see if they were buttons. Nothing stood out, which I suppose is the point of hidden door latches. I even tried to blink in, but someone had apparently kept that in mind when designing the security systems around here. Pain lanced through my brain as I tried to blink. Stupid blocking spells. Eventually, I just went and stood in front of the smooth metal frame.

I glared at it, walking up and pressing my nose against its shiny surface, as though the sheer intimidation factor of my red eyes would force it to open. “Tell me your secrets, door.” I commanded. As you might expect, nothing happened. Heck, I was talking to a metal door! What did I think would happen? Finally, as a last resort, I pressed my hand against the middle of my greatest foe and pushed. Again, nothing. I pushed a little harder. Nope, still didn’t budge. I stepped back to the other end of the room and crashed into the door in a full sprint, probably bruising at least my shoulder in the process. Nothing happened.

Infuriated, I racked my claws across its disgustingly shiny face... and felt my flaw snag on something. I held the torch up to investigate. It was a tiny, unnoticeable dent,  the door, barely noticeable. I would never have found it had I not caught my claw on it. I gave it a small tug.

The door swung open with a small creak.

Pull, not push. I’m pretty sure my eye twitched. I opened my mouth to say something to the empty room, then slowly closed it, deciding that there were no words to describe my feelings right then. Heaving a deep sigh and clenching my fists to relieve my unbelieveable frustration, I stepped into the room beyond, holding the torch high. This turned out to be unnecessary. The moment I crossed the threshold, the room blazed to life in an eruption of fire.

The room was far larger than I had expected, stretching away much like the Library had. Two wide grooves had been cut into the floor at the base of the walls, filled with some kind of flammable liquid. As I entered the place, flames raced down either track, leaping and licking up the walls, setting the entire room up in blazing glory. And there in the middle, imbedded in a rock pedestal, it rested. The Scythe of Belial, the tip of its mighty blade buried nearly a foot into the rock.

What a sight it was! Its wickedly curved and jagged blade, forged out of compressed obsidian with beautifully inlaid designs made of bloodruby filament, stretched out to a full length at least my height. The handle was long, slender and white, assumedly carved from some kind of bone. I would put money on Eternal Dragon crest bone. The entire weapon was surrounded by a barely noticeable swirling red aura which seemed to wind its way around the blade.

I let out a shout of joy and rushed forward to grab my prize only to stop abruptly. The Scythe was watching me. Think that sounds weird? Trust me, it was way worse to experience. Right at the thickest part of the blade, where it attached to the handle, was a large yellow eye. For a second I thought it was decoration, some kind of carved jewel. Then it blinked and swiveled to look at me. I could see my reflection in its glassy slit pupil. On a scale of things that were okay to things that were not okay, this was really REALLY not okay with me.

It watched me, I watched it. It blinked again. I was horrified. Gingerly, I took few steps toward it, staring into its sinister eye all the while. Fifteen feet, ten feet, five feet.

“Umm... hi?” I said tentatively. The eye was still glued on my face, but it didn’t say anything. That was to be expected I guess. Much like the door behind me, the weapon didn’t have a mouth. I really needed to get out of the habit of talking to inanimate objects before it became a serious problem. The eye watched me for just a second longer, judging my every move, before languidly sliding shut. I breathed a sigh of relief and edged closer.

The glowing energy of the Scythe swept out around me like a whirlwind as I got closer. I could feel tingles of electricity running up and down my spine and spines. At this point, I could easily grab the handle and yank it out of the rock, but something told me it wouldn’t be quite that easy. Perhaps it was the red swirling around the blade, or the eye itself, or maybe just everything about this monstrosity that stood before me. The energy slowly dissipated as I reached my hand out to grab that magnificent handle.

“Well, let’s see if I’m fit to be the rightful king of England.” I said with a grin. I’m still quite proud of that line, though no one was around to hear me. I read it in one of the books once. No idea what it really meant. Wart had always seemed like a wimp to me, but then again, I wasn’t? I wrapped my claws firmly around the bone white handle and pulled. Nothing happened. That seemed to be a recurring theme these days.

I pondered the Scythe for a second, panic rising in my chest. What if I wasn’t meant to have the Scythe? What if I couldn’t even pull it out and then someone found my decapitated and rotting form floating sickly in the Ash Lake?

It was then I noticed that the eye on the blade had opened again. It gave me what I suppose was its equivalent of a sarcastic eye roll, which basically meant just flipping around in its socket. It returned its gaze to me and seemed to glare condescendingly.

“What!?” I shouted at it. “I can’t get you out of this darn rock! You’re stuck, or maybe you’re just that heavy! Lose some damn weight!” Maybe that wasn’t very nice but I was frustrated, okay? What happened next scarred me for life, I swear.

Pull harder, you idiot! A soft, harsh whisper resounded through my skull. I stared blankly at the Scythe. It continued to glare back at me. Remember when I said I was really not okay with the Scythe watching me? Well how do you think I felt when it talked in my head? I was ready just to flip the nearest table and walk. But instead, I pulled. I pulled until veins popped on my arms and forehead. I pulled until cracks began running through the stone pedestal. One final heave, and it came apart with a loud CRACK!

I stood there panting. “All hail the true and rightful king,” I whispered breathlessly.

There you go. That wasn’t so hard, was it? I raised an eyebrow at the eye. It looked back unblinkingly.

I stepped back with my prize in hand. It was surprisingly lighter than I thought, but then again, it was mostly Eternal Dragon bone. The last chunks of the pedestal settled on the floor, motionless. I had done it! The Scythe was mine and mine alone! Now all I had to do was figure out how to use it. I decided to test it on the shores of the lake, but just as I was about to turn to leave, the rubble on the floor suddenly jumped and a rumbling cacophony behind me filled my eardrums. Here was the catch I had expected all along.

Slowly, I turned around to face the noise, and jumped about ten feet in the air. The walls behind me were glowing red. Not red like the fire around me, but a deep crimson, the color of my own blood. Stupidly, I hid behind the Scythe, as if it would provide me some sort of protection from whatever I had to face behind that wall. I could feel the heat radiating through it, so intense that it probably singed the scales on my arms. I didn’t dare move until I had to.

If I had thought the rumbling through the wall was loud, nothing could have possibly prepared me for the boom that probably resonated through the entire castle as the wall came crashing down before my eyes. Literally, it exploded, sending chunks of compacted ash flying and landing everywhere... but me.

I cracked an eye open to see how I wasn’t severely dead. Skeptically, I poked my head around the handle and had to close my eyes and open them again to know that what I was seeing was real. Somehow, the Scythe had arranged its bizarre red filaments into a sort of... forcefield. Nothing could hit me, I realized as the chunks of debris bounced and fizzled harmlessly off of the shield.

I didn’t have much time to marvel at this wonder, however, because a massive fifteen foot blade came hurtling in from my left and smacked me up into whatever was left of the wall to my right. I grunted in pain, having broken at least a couple of ribs from the impact. I slid down the wall, painfully spread my wings, and flew to the other end of the room, where I was safe. Of course, “safe” is only a relative term when there are two perfectly functional army-destroying death machines in the room.

You heard me right. Two. Full-grown. Excubiars. They stood twenty five feet tall, each equipped with its massive blades, ready to kill. But what was truly horrifying about them was their eyes. In the place of eyeballs like your average demon, the Excubiars had nothing but empty sockets, each radiating a small pinpoint of red light. As I looked a little closer, I noticed small streams of smoke swirling around each eye socket. You heard me right. Their eyes were literally on fire.

Are you going to just stand there? I shuddered. That voice had a way of grating against your very brain. Of course, it was also offering helpful battle advice, if “get out of the way of the giant monster” could really be considered advice. I figured I may as well listen to it. I snatched up the scythe and held it out if front of me, testing its weight and balance. It seemed to fit me perfectly. The handle fit snugly in my grip, and I figured I could swing the blade almost effortlessly through the air.

The Excubiars thundered closer. I pulled the scythe back over my shoulder, ready to strike. The one on the right was nearer to me. As soon as its legs were in range, I lunged forward and swung the scythe around in front of me to hit it... and missed entirely. I landed on the floor and skidded about fifteen feet before I rolled over and stood up. Again, I charged the behemoth and brought the scythe whirling around, and again I missed. I managed to keep my balance this time, but not before another gargantuan blade swept me into the wall.

I stumbled forward, dazed. How could I get this thing to work? It didn’t seem to ever go where I wanted it to. I’d never had any problems with swords before. Why should a scythe be any different? I desperately wracked my brain for any helpful hint from the stories I’d heard, but remembered nothing other than the fact that the scythe seemed to obey Sunderbane’s very thoughts...

Thoughts. Dangit, I just had to think! Which, I admit, was something I wasn’t doing very well that day. As the Excubiar I had first attacked lumbered toward me, I focused all of my thoughts on the scythe. I pulled my weapon back and jumped toward the creature. Right leg, I said inside my head. My aim was impeccable, the glowing aura around the scythe’s blade cleaving straight through the metal with a blast of steam and shattered the metal-reinforced bone within. Wow, this weapon was scary.

The Excubiar tottered on its remaining leg and began to fall, but caught itself on its two blades. It slowly raised one of its arms to strike. Same thing to the arm, I thought to the scythe.

I’ll need some help then, stupid! I can't swing myself, the grating voice resounded in my head. How rude! I sprinted at the beast and sprung up off the ground toward the grounded blade, and with the propulsion of the scythe, bounded off of the notch between the butt of the blade and the forearm of the giant toward its armored shoulder. As soon as I’d reached it, however, the monster’s free arm came swinging down toward me, right at my head. I leapt out to meet it, holding the scythe high above my head. Shatter it, I thought, and swung the scythe down in a beautiful arc down and lodged its point straight into the Excubiar’s wrist. I followed its arc behind and it flipped me over, on a track around the colossal arm and toward the floor below.

It was at this point I realized I was approximately twenty feet off the ground. The scythe dislodged from the monster and brought itself around over my head. I tucked myself in a ball and hurtled toward the ground, flipping around with the scythe in hand. As I reached the ground, I extended my legs slightly to absorb the shock and rolled away from the impact, distributing the force through my shoulders. I stood up from the roll and looked back at my foe as it toppled down.

I could only focus on it for a second, however, because the other one, though it had chosen to stay away from me up until this point, was now charging and swinging the blade in its right hand at me. I tried to blink out of the way, but the blade came crashing into my side and I hurtled into the wall with a sickening CRUNCH. I couldn’t tell, but I was pretty sure that meant at least a couple more broken ribs. At least it wasn’t my legs.

I had forgotten that this place had somehow disabled my blinking abilities. I painfully pushed myself up off of the ground and picked up the scythe. Although it had protected me from getting sliced clean in half on multiple occasions, the sheer force of the blow had wrenched it from my grasp. Taking a deep breath, I resumed my fighting position, favoring my left side and its broken bones.

“Come on, ugly,” I growled at the war machine. “I’m could kill you in my sleep!” Slowly, it raised the blade high above its head. Lines of black and red demon energy flowed along the edge of the mighty sword. The Excubiar brought the blade down with a great crash, a wave of energy rippled out, carving a line through the floor and ceiling, hurtling towards me. I held the scythe out in front of me, the woven bloodruby shield whipping into place. Digging my claws into the solid stone of the floor, I braced for impact, knowing full well that no one had ever survived a direct hit from this attack.

The wave washed over me. I wrapped my wings tightly around my body to block out the heat and light. Pressure began to build behind my eyes, my ears started ringing, tingling sensations ran up and down my spine. It was like someone had filled the room with an ocean’s worth of water and it was trying to crush the life out of me. The energy was so powerful it became a physical thing and I couldn’t breathe. The ringing grew louder and louder before everything exploded around me. The room ripped itself apart. Chunks of masonry and ash flew everywhere. The bloodruby filament extended around my body, cocooning me in glowing red wires. There must have been a set amount of the things, because I could see gaps and lines through the shield. Finally, the dust settled.

The blast had knocked the mighty war machine back into the armory proper, as well as tearing out the wall behind me. I could see the light of the outside! I immediately limped towards it, clutching my shattered ribs, hearing the grinding gears of the monster behind me as it levered itself back up. I reached the shattered wall and stared out over the Ash Lake. The only way out was to fly, and that was going to hurt a lot.

As I heard the lumbering steps of the metal giant behind me, I took a deep breath and launched myself off the edge. The wind whistled past me, blowing my hair out blasting over my spines. With a spike of agony, I flared my wings out in one great burst, pulling a hairpin turn and rocketing towards the ceiling of the Sixth, gritting my teeth against the pain with every flap. I had no idea how to use the scythe and it was being rather untalkative. I hoped it would work like blinking, just imagine where you want to go and poof!

“Here goes nothing!” I shouted over the howling wind. Just feet away from the rock ceiling, not slowing down a bit, I wished with all my heart to be away from here and swung the Scythe of Belial.

There was a tearing noise like ripping parchment, a flash of light, then darkness. And a howling roar of pure anger and hatred from somewhere far below me. A rage that could be from no one. None, but my father.

Chapter the First: Ascension

The light slowly faded in, grey and dank. I waited for my eyes to adjust and examined my wounds. My arms had multiple gashes and bruises, and my broken ribs seemed to stab me with my every move. My entire body throbbed. The scythe lay next to me. Its fiendish eye stared me down, unblinking.

As I grew accustomed to the pain searing through my body, I became aware of a rancid stench wafting through the air. I couldn’t quite tell, but it vaguely reminded me of something I’d smelled before...

A vision passed through my head. A bloodcurdling scream, a sizzle. A disobedient imp drowning in the Ash Lake. That stench was burned flesh.

I straightened up slowly, careful not to jar my ribs too much, and got my first good look at the Fifth. Greed was this level’s patron sin, and the level where my mother was from. It only took a glance to see that this level bore absolutely no resemblance whatsoever to the Sixth, but it took considerably longer to soak it all in.

All around me where mountains of gold and silver and various precious gems, broken only by rivers of liquid silver snaking between them. I happened to be standing on one of the few places where the bedrock poked through. It appeared I was right in the middle of all of the splendor. All around me, faded souls shambled about. They were mostly vaguely shaped wisps of smoke, their faces seemingly charred away, barely resembling their original forms.

I remained standing on the rock as best I could, surveying the scene around me. If there was anything that could be said about it, it was beautiful. The whole place seemed to get its light from the metal itself, and it glittered and radiated throughout the cavern with more light than I had ever seen before. Then again, it really wasn’t all that much. The lighting was warm and friendly, the way I imagined a nice home in the living world would be.

At this point, I was beginning to wonder how this could possibly be any level of hell, let alone the Fifth. A mountain of gold towered on my right, and a river of silver lazily lapped against the crystal beach on my left. The cavern spread out around me, inviting me. All of it could be mine, I thought. Every single piece. I stretched my hand toward the ground, where a particularly beautiful ruby winked up at me.

My fingers were tantalizingly close to it. I could see my own battered reflection in its shiny surface. Time slowed down as I reached for it. I was so close. I could have it all. It was mine. All mine.

I nearly fell over as the scream behind me shattered my euphoria. I stood up and turned around to face the noise, along with the other faceless beings nearby. A soul, presumably a new arrival, had apparently not wasted a moment collecting its prize. It appeared to be human, standing on a strange mixture of smoke and rotten flesh, faceless like the rest of the souls around me. I couldn’t even tell where the scream was coming from, as a wisp of smoke made up most of its torso. It appeared it came from the entirety of the figure, engulfing it and shattering the warmth and serenity I had observed upon entering the level.

It was only then that I noticed its hand was on fire, and it was frantically stamping on it, trying to put the flames out. This only served to spread the fire to its legs, and eventually to the rest of its body. So that was where the stench of burned flesh that permeated the place came from. Gross. I counted myself more than lucky that that particular soul had chosen to touch something when it did, or I would have been the one burning to death. Or maybe I would have keeled over from the sheer irony of a demon dying by fire.

Of course, it was loads better compared to carrying the ashes of disintegrated souls up cliffs while disintegrating themselves, only to later become a part of the massive infrastructure of the Sixth. I certainly didn’t want to be back there.

However, I had still only been here a few moments and the atmosphere was already sickening me. I had to get out, now. I quickly retrieved the scythe, casting one more sad look around me at the pain, before beating my wings heavily and slicing my way to the next level.

*****

Envy was the theme of the Fourth. I found myself standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a scene of utter chaos. War cries and explosions riddled the air and echoed through the cavern. Gargantuan cave formations stretched from floor to ceiling, tottering on blasted-away remnants. Smoke clouded the air, so thick I could hardly see, let alone breathe. I spread my wings despite my throbbing ribs and floated down off the cliff, in search of a closer look at what was going on.

I descended through the smoke that hung in a thick cloud over the screams and clangs. It was an unusual smoke, a mixture of burnt wood, molten metal and an infusion of singed hair and flesh. As I approached the ground, faint outlines of shadows that seemed to be mobs on the move peeked through the smog, roughly crafted swords and clubs and pikes hoisted high.

There seemed to be a swarm of wraiths pouring in from tunnels dug into the cliffs behind me. They came in waves, almost in teams. Each wave seemed to have a leader, a guide, who showed them through the maze of stalagmites. I landed at the back of one of the waves and joined the pack.

None of them noticed me, despite the fact that I was toting a large, glowing, sentient scythe. They all seemed bent on their destination. Wherever it was, they seemed to know where they were going. Their weapons were sharp. Apparently the smell of molten metal meant there was a smith somewhere, hidden within the cliffs. I could almost hear the squeal of the metal on the grindstone, carving the edges the souls wielded.

I marched around corner after corner, zigzagging left and right until I grew completely disoriented. We turned in and out of tunnels, slogged over hills and through rivers, winding through a crazy maze of rock. Eventually the wraiths entered a long, twisting tunnel, shrouding the brigade in darkness. The only light came from the scythe. Its scarlet wires cast sinister glints on the edges of iron blades and shadows in the empty eye sockets of the dead souls. This was getting creepy, even by the standards I was used to.

The march of souls rounded one last corner, and we burst out into a bonafide warzone. Arrows whizzed and zipped by my head, giant balls of flame crashed down into the ranks of souls, and up on a nearby hill was a dark palace. It looked much like home I had just left, save for the fact it was much more elegantly built, with tall spires and high walls.

I watched as the lost souls charged to their doom on the slopes of the hill, desperately trying to reach the closed gates. That was the punishment of the envious. To constantly battle and fight for something they desired, and to constantly fail and have to try again when they were reborn in the caverns behind us.

I sighed and turned away. At least you got to stick around a little bit longer than in the Fifth. There was still too much destruction here, too much pain. Once again, I raised the scythe and moved on, leaving the booms and screams behind me.

*****

Next came Lust. To put it simply, it was a giant brothel. Except instead of being pleasurable, it was excruciatingly painful. And my ribs hurt bad enough already. I’ll just leave it at that and let your mind fill in the rest. Spoiler alert, it involved teeth. And claws. Still better than the Fourth. If you were lucky, you didn’t quite get ripped to shreds. Moving on now.

A rip and a flash later and I was in the Second. Gluttony’s territory. This level was basically one giant hall filled with tables surrounding a great roaring fire in the middle. The tables were piled high with delicious foods of every kind imaginable. The souls gorged themselves until they literally exploded. Wrong on so many levels. At least the explosion part was over fast.  Needless to say, I left as soon as I could. Didn’t want to get covered in the remains of souls who literally become so fat that they blew up.

Slice, rip, light, you know the drill by now.

Last up was the First, ironically. Sloth. At first, I didn’t see anything. No souls, no crying wraiths. Just solid lead flooring. Then I looked behind me. A gargantuan lead castle, bigger than any I’d seen before, stretched high toward the ceiling of the circular cavern. Nothing moved. Nothing, that is, except the floor. It trembled. I turned around again, and saw a small cliff perhaps twenty yards away from me. Despite the pain that proliferated through my chest at this point, I knelt down and peeked my head over the edge. There they were. The souls had to hold up this platform. If they stopped, it would crush them. A new incarnation appeared, and the platform expanded to accommodate it. Within seconds, it was straining. I stood up, looked up, and stared at the ceiling of the last level of Hell.

I backed up, turned around and sprinted toward the edge of the cliff, completely ignoring my ribs this time. I jumped. I felt the last of the hot air rushing through my hair and swung the scythe with all my might, one last time.

This time, the light didn’t fade from the rip in the air. I heard the rustle of tree branches, and the smell of the wind again. Equestria.

Chapter the Second: Cool Breeze from a Summer Day

The white consumed me, enveloped me like a blanket. I looked around me for some sort of indication of where I was. None. I glanced down toward my feet, but the white all around me was so thick I couldn’t see them. Although I didn’t trust my balance in this strange new world, I focused all of my thoughts on dragging my right foot forward.

My milky surroundings slowly faded out into a single beam from somewhere above me. I scanned around for its source, but a searing pain shot through my chest and I doubled over. My mouth was open, but my lungs were on fire and I couldn’t make a sound, no matter how much I wanted to scream in agony. If I thought my broken ribs had hurt, I was sorely mistaken. Now they seemed like a simple bruise.

The pain spread throughout my entire body, sparing nothing. Everything from my eyes to my fingers to my toes burned. I managed to open my eyes enough to see what was going on. I squinted at my hands...

I actually did manage a scream this time, shocked at what was going on. My fingers were shrinking into nonexistence, and my palms were becoming cylindrical. Fine, dark grey fur was sprouting out of my forearms and coating my arms in a sleek coat.

Suddenly, the pain subsided, leaving a dull throbbing sensation all over my body. I collapsed on the ground and groaned. My eyes went out of focus, and a black tint filled the edges of my vision. I only had time to make the realization that I was probably dead before the black clouded away my eyesight and sent me off into a forgetful, calm syncope.

*****

I don’t know how long I was out, but the beam of light I had observed had moved down from where it was before I blacked out. I forced my eyes open and tried to focus on the scenery around me.

A sword lay on my right. How did that get there? It had a familiar look to it. I examined it more closely. A blood red ruby was set into the pommel. Ah. There it was. The Scythe of Belial had completely transformed itself into a sword. Pretty clever of it, really, but I still wasn’t sure how a (mostly) inanimate object could have morphed itself into something else. There had to be a catch.

Slowly, I sat up, grumbling. Considering what I had just experienced, the splitting headache I had felt something like a massage. I was comfortable... mostly. Sitting felt weird for some reason, like my legs were splayed out on either side of me. I looked down.

“AAAAUUUUGGGGHHH!!!” I screeched. I fell over backward, flailing wildly, trying to escape what I saw. There’s the catch, I thought to myself. I closed my eyes for a good ten seconds, took a deep breath, opened them again, and looked down. “Why the literal flying monstrous fuck am I a horse?!” I shouted. I examined my new hooves and wondered why I was so surprised by them. I guess they were just grey cylinders that I was supposed to stand on. Joy.

I placed my two ex-hands on the ground and extended my back legs. My rear hooves eventually came into full contact with the ground. I wobbled a little bit, but I soon gained balance and looked away from the ground.

After everything I had read in my father’s library, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what the living world looked like. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for what I saw just then. Warm golden light filtered down through the rustling leaves. The trees creaked softly in the gentle wind. The clearing I was in was covered in flowers of reds and purples and yellows. They swayed slightly as the whispers of air moved across their delicate petals.

“Wow...” I breathed out quietly, taking in the sights and sounds. A small brown bird twittered past my nose and landed on a branch to my left. It watched me for a second before fluttering away. A grin slowly consumed my face as I watched a pair of squirrels chase each other up a tree, chattering away. I was officially speechless. All my fighting, all the running and the hiding and the fear and pain were things of the past now!

I could no longer contain myself. I let out a shout of pure excitement, “YAHOO!” Birds scattered out of the trees and bushes around me. I suppose they did that when I screamed after seeing my hooves, but honestly, I was too shocked to notice. I wanted to jump for joy, to run and never stop running through the new world of light green and gold. So I tried to run... and fell flat on my face.

“Well, this is embarrassing.” I muttered into the dirt. I awkwardly regained my... hooves and glanced at the forest creatures to see if any of them were going to make fun of me. Luckily, forest creatures are forest creatures and therefore generally don’t do that sort of thing. I looked down at my shaking hooves again.

Okay, evaluation time. I was in a forest, I was in the living world, and I had somehow transformed into a pony. Okay, I’ll admit, I was not expecting that. Good job Fate, you got me! Apparently my bones had actually morphed themselves into the bones of a horse, or pony... or something. And then I grew fur. No wonder I felt like I had gone through a damn wood chipper.

I sighed, gingerly raised my right front hoof, and placed it on the ground in front of me. The remaining three hooves wobbled dangerously, but I managed to keep my feet, well, hooves. Better than last time, I guess. I did the same with my left hoof. This wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as I thought. I teetered dangerously, sticking my wings out for balance.

Oh yeah, wings, I had those. Why do they have feathers now? So I’m a pegasus? No, not quite. I still had all four of my wings, and heck, they didn’t look that bad with the feathers anyway! Yeah, stay positive. So what if I couldn’t actually walk? Who needed dumb walking anyway?

I facepal... hooved. I could still blink, duh! Why walk when I could just teleport everywhere? I closed my eyes and imagined myself outside the forest, or somewhere with food, I was hungry. Anywhere would be nice really. I opened my eyes and... nothing had changed. I was still standing in the same clearing. Well that wasn’t right at all. I tried again, still nothing.

“Uh oh” I whispered, “not good, not good at all.” My blinking, that which had made me so special, was gone. Desperate now, I looked around, trying to think of something. “Okay, don’t panic. I have to be able to do something!”

The bird I had observed earlier landed back on its branch about thirty feet away. I looked at it. Maybe I could blink there. I closed my eyes and imagined myself standing under the tree. I opened them again. Nothing.

I heaved a sigh. There had to be something. I picked a spot to my right, approximately ten feet from where I was standing. I closed my eyes and wished to be there.

At first I thought nothing had happened, but when my legs dropped out from under me and I landed in the dirt again, I noticed the tree with the bird in it was farther away. At least I could still blink within a certain range, and probably within my line of sight too.

The problem was, once I did, I couldn’t keep my feet, dangit, hooves. I sighed again. I guess it was something I did often. I regained my hooves, at least a little easier this time, and snorted at my own clumsiness. A full-grown demon from the sixth level of Hell was having trouble walking.

I was just about to lose myself in the gorgeous scenery around me again when a shrill, piercing scream shattered my eardrums. It was shortly followed by a thundering roar, which I suspected was a monster of some sort. I spun around to my right, to where the noise came from, kicked up the sword next to me, settled it neatly on my back, and took off sprinting in its direction.

Hold on a second. I was running when I couldn’t walk more than a few steps just a minute or two ago. I suppose I was just over-thinking it. Walking is a natural instinct of any animal species, right? But I didn’t have time to explain it to myself at that point. I had a hunch that I had some rescuing to do!

It took me about thirty seconds of running to reach the source of the shriek. I burst into a smaller clearing, where a massive manticore howled at something or some...pony I couldn’t see. I’d seen manticores in my father’s castle, but I’d never thought they’d exist in the living world.

It pawed at the tree trunk, shaking the branches violently. A small white figure suddenly appeared, dangling precariously from a limb. It looked like a young pony, perhaps seven or eight years old, and it was about to fall.

I took off running in its direction, then jumped off of the ground and caught my left front hoof on the branch next to the small white figure. I now saw she had a pink and purple curly mane and large sea-foam green eyes. I picked her up with my right hoof and set her back on the branch. This really was easier than I thought. I could get used to this...

Something slammed into my gut and I hurtled through the air until I smashed into the tree trunk to my left. The sword spun off my back and came down on a rock with a loud clang. I slid comically down the trunk. I landed on the ground with a soft thud and examined the gashes the manticore’s paw had left on my side. I was bruised and cut, and my ribs had probably cracked again. That should not have happened. The only things that had been able to inflict any kind of pain on me before were those damn Excubiars. Now it was just a pissed off manticore.

“You know, this day just goes from bad to worse,” I muttered to myself. As if it had heard me, the manticore roared in reply and swatted at me again. “Alright point taken leaving now!” I launched myself up, snatched up the sword and swung it over my back, grabbed the still-screaming filly, and bolted. The manticore let out another blood-curdling roar and charged after me. I ducked and weaved and wove my way through the forest, with the manticore hurtling behind me.

“Uhh, mister?” the filly asked.

“What?”

“I think if you keep running this way... I think we’re headed for Ghastly...”

“Ghastly what?” I turned my head to look at her.

“GHASTLY GOOOOOOOOOOORGE!!!” she screeched as we plummeted off the cliff. Okay, maybe it wasn’t just her screams. So what if it caught me off guard? I’m allowed to be scared aren’t I? I guess that manticore had knocked some sense into me. Risking the pain, I spread my wings and glided slowly across the mighty ravine below us. I could just barely make out a river at the bottom. Yeah, that deep.

We drifted lazily across the canyon to a small ledge about fifty feet down the opposing cliff face. It may have seemed like a lot, but given the depth of the rest of the abyss, it really wasn’t too far from the top.

I glanced over my shoulder. “You alright back there, kiddo?” I asked. She scrambled off my back, careful not to touch the sword more than was necessary and plopped herself down on the wide ledge next to me.

“I... I think so?” She turned around in circles, examining herself. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said in her squeaky voice. She looked at her flank. “Darn it. I was hoping for a cutie mark in cliff diving.”

Puzzled, and deciding to ignore her, I shrugged and turned and glanced up the cliff, looking for a way up. I stretched my wings and gave them a experimental flap, wincing immediately. So that wasn’t an option. I noticed the filly staring at me, her eyes huge and amazed.

“What?” I deadpanned.

“You have four wings,” she whispered in wonder. “That is so cool! I bet Rainbow Dash will be so jealous and she’ll challenge you to a race and then the whole town will come to watch and Twilight can keep score and Pinkie Pie will throw you a “Welcome to Ponyville” party and mmmpph!”

I stuck my hoof in her mouth to shut her up. That manticore was still back there somewhere and I didn’t trust it not to follow us, despite us being on the other side of a canyon. I heaved another one of my practically patented sighs and motioned to the white and pink filly.

“Alright, climb on. Try not to impale yourself,” I said, looking back up the cliff. The young pony climbed back on as I readied myself for the next part of our little adventure.

“Umm, mister? What are you doing?” She asked.

“Climbing out, obviously. Can’t fly, have to do it somehow. Besides, it’s not like you weigh that much anyway, so I may as well take you with me,” I explained. She stuck her tongue out at me and I returned it in kind. No one said I had to be mature.

She climbed on my back and I set my rear hooves into the ledge. There looked like there would be enough little hoofholds to make my way up. Well, no time like the present. I planted my forehooves on the rock face and began pulling myself up, hand over... hoof over hoof.

An awkward silence settled over us, broken only by the wind howling down the canyon. I could feel the filly shifting around on my back, probably getting bored. I just kept climbing, ignoring the little stabs of pain from my chest.

“Sooooo...” the filly started, “my name is Sweetie Belle. What’s yours?”

I decided to humor her. She was probably a bit freaked out right then anyway. “Lacuna!” I called back over the wind.

“That’s a funny name!” was her response. Charming, wasn’t she? I continued my ascent up the cliff but apparently she wasn’t done talking. “So where are you from?” She squeaked.

“Somewhere far away, and not a pleasant place either, let’s leave it at that,” I answered, not wanting to think too much about it. This world was my new beginning. I didn’t want to dwell on my old home.

“Is that why you have a sword? Because you came from someplace dangerous?” She asked. Maybe she was sharper than I had thought.

“Yes,” I growled, starting to get annoyed. I had to concentrate on not falling off and ending up as mush at the bottom of a chasm. “I have a sword and four wings because I come from a place very different from this one. Now stop asking so many questions. I have to concentrate.” I continued to plod up the cliff. I still had about twenty feet before I could leave this filly somewhere before she could ask about every single detail of my life.

At least she was smart enough to know that both of our lives were in danger and stopped talking. I climbed the last few feet in silence and finally snagged my hooves over the edge of the cliff. I heaved the both of us over and she hopped off my back as though nothing had happened. “Children,” I muttered to myself.

I looked over at her. She seemed to be staring at my hip for some reason. I followed her gaze and nearly toppled over the edge of the cliff again.

“Why do I have a picture on my butt?”

“That’s your cutie mark! It tells you what your special talent is, duh! Everypony knows that!” She explained as if I was the biggest idiot in the world. Which maybe I was, who knew?

“Uhh, what on earth is my “special talent” supposed to mean?” I asked, exasperated.

“It’s whatever you’re really good at! Yours has a... big scary-looking thing on it. What the heck does it have to do with you?” She was way too energetic for having just survived a trip into Ghastly Gorge. Again, children.

I finally managed to twist my head around enough to actually see the stupid thing properly. It seemed to be three crescent shapes intertwining around a black and purple scythe. That explained a lot. The image itself didn’t stand out too much from my grey fur but it did blend nicely I suppose. I don’t know, I’m not a fashion designer!

The filly seemed to be completely distracted at this point. “Gee, it sure is getting late. I’d better go find Applebloom, Scootaloo and Fluttershy! They’ll be excited to meet you! Or maybe they’ll just be mad at me for wandering off into the Everfree Forest on my own, I’m not sure,” she shrugged. With that, she dashed off into the forest in front of me. And honestly, I was suddenly sad she was gone. Groaning at my own inability to be a strong, independent grey stallion, I trudged after her trailing, curly pink and purple tail.

I followed her for at least ten minutes as I began to get that weird feeling you get when you’re distinctly lost. I don’t know if she knew I was behind her, but if she did, she gave no sign of her knowledge.

“Applebloom! Scootaloo! Fluttershy! I’m coming back!” she called out, stopping in her tracks. She waited and shouted again at consistent intervals, presumably for other pony friends of hers.

They came through a small gap in the bushes around her after about five minutes. Two other fillies rushed in first, one with pale yellow fur and a red mane, and the other with orange fur and a light purple mane. A few seconds later, a pale yellow, full-grown pegasus with a light pink mane that covered half of her face caught up. The two fillies tackled Sweetie Belle in a ferocious hug that brought all three to the ground.

“Oh, um, I, uh, I don’t think that’s... uhh, that might hurt... uhh,” the older pony said softly. Then she spotted me. “Oh my, I’m sorry... I, um, didn’t see you there...” Her voice got progressively quieter until it petered away into nothingness. She pawed nervously at the ground and ducked her face behind her mane. The awkward grew. I took a step forward, wanting to break the increasingly awful silence between us while the three fillies wrestled on the ground.

“So... what’s your name?” I asked simply. The only response I got was a tiny whimper I couldn’t understand. I asked again. Dead silence this time. She had completely hidden herself behind her mane. It was then that the three fillies decided to burst back in on the scene.

“Her name is Fluttershy!” announced the purple and orange one. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s, like, super shy and scared of everything, especially new ponies, and new ponies who are stallions (Fluttershy blushed a bright pink), and new ponies who are stallions with swords.” She paused there and stared at the weapon. “Dude, that is awesome! My name’s Scootaloo, by the way. The most awesome filly this side of Ponyville, and Rainbow Dash’s biggest fan!” she declared proudly. I’d been hearing a lot about this Rainbow Dash character.

“Gotcha. Scootaloo.” I sighed and resisted the temptation to roll my eyes. I turned to the away, only to be practically assaulted by the last filly, who grabbed my hoof in a powerful grip for someone her age and proceeded to shake it so hard my arm (leg?) started to go numb.

“Howdy there! My name’s Applebloom,” she practically shouted, as if I was deaf or something.

“So I assumed,” I said, rubbing some feeling back into my shoulder.

All three of the young ones then put their heads and hooves together and inhaled deeply. “And together we’re the...!” they began.

“Oh dear, not again,” whispered Fluttershy behind me. I turned to see her covering her ears. I got the message too late.

“...CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS!” The trees shook, the ground quaked and some birds fell out of the sky. Somewhere, miles away, Princess Celestia raised her head and looked out the window.

“My goodness, that was a loud one,” she chuckled and returned to her royal mountain of paperwork.

“The what?” I asked. They prepared to shout it again. “No, no, no, I don’t need to hear it again! But what exactly is a Cutie Mark Crusader?”

“One of us, of course! We’re on a quest to get our cutie marks! We’re the only fillies in Ponyville who don’t have them yet!”

Oh, those. “I see.” I turned back to Fluttershy. “I’m Lacuna. Do you know the way to... Ponyville? I’m... uhh... new around here.”

“I... I think so. It shouldn’t be far. What were you doing in the Everfree Forest anyway? New ponies usually come through town. It’s this way,” she explained as she walked off. I followed her, and the Cutie Mark Crusaders bounced loudly after us.

“Uh, I guess this is just where I ended up,” I said shiftily.

“Oh well. Do you have a place to stay?” she asked.

I hadn’t even given that idea anything close to a fraction of a thought. Where would I sleep? I didn’t have a bedroom waiting in a castle for me anymore. I decided to tell her the truth. “Uhh, no.”

“Oh. Uhh, okay, um, I don’t know if my woodland creatures would like having a stranger to stay, but otherwise I’d offer up my sofa... ummm... maybe Applejack? No, she’d have too much work to do... Rarity? Hmm, she’d be afraid you’d mess something up... ummm... Pinkie? She wouldn’t even let you sleep, and you’ll need that for tomorrow. Uhhh, I don’t even know where Rainbow Dash’s cloud house might be right now... maybe Twilight? She might have too much studying to do... but Spike gets to sleep there... and she’d definitely welcome a new pony... but I don’t know what she’ll say about the sword and all...” She was pretty much talking to herself, but I appreciated her company all the same.

And so, Fluttershy, the three little horrors and I trotted through the Everfree Forest toward a town I had never heard of in a place I was unfamiliar with filled with ponies I didn’t know. Sounded like a great adventure to me.

We reached the edge of the woods and approached a cute little cottage, which I assumed was Fluttershy’s place. I looked out beyond it at the small buildings and narrow streets, at the mountain with the castle perched on its side in the distance, and back to Fluttershy. I sighed again, but this time with content.

“Welcome to Ponyville,” she said with a smile, and trotted off toward the town ahead of me.

Chapter the Third: Home

The moon had just begun to rise as we walked the mostly deserted streets. Some lights flickered in the window and the air had a crisp, clean smell to it. We had made a quick stop at Fluttershy’s cabin and tucked the Cutie Mark Crusaders, who she apparently was babysitting for a few days, into bed before setting off to find me a place to stay. I stood still for a minute, watching the moon as it made its way into the Equestrian night sky. It shimmered a soft silver. I smiled. It was peaceful now.

“It’s beautiful,” I said simply. Fluttershy walked up next to me looked up as well.

“Princess Luna really outdid herself tonight. Look at all those stars. Maybe she’s welcoming you to Ponyville in her own way?” She smiled back at me. “Now come on, Twilight might not be awake much longer. But then again, she’s probably studying. Oh, I hope she lets you stay with her. She usually likes company, as long as she’s not interrupted too much.”

“So, where exactly does this Twilight live?”

“Oh, she lives in the local library.” Fluttershy managed to sound cheerful even at her normal speaking volume. “Princess Celestia let her stay there when she first came to Ponyville. I’m surprised she ever leaves it, really.”

“Wait, did you just say library?” I said in a hoarse (horse?) whisper.

“Umm... yes?” she replied

That exploding sound? Why yes, that was my brain. She lived in a library! How cool was that? All of my jealousy, boom, there it was! I followed Fluttershy through the quiet street and around a corner. A giant tree stood in front of me. Was the library in a tree? Because if so, this whole thing had just reached the level of unfairly awesome.

Though it was dark out, I could still make out most of the details. It appeared to be a multi-story structure, with windows jutting out from the trunk and branches at all angles. A small balcony hung over the branches about two thirds of the way up, presumably with a door to a bedroom. There was even a loft at the very top, upon which stood a large scientific looking object.

“Here we are. I think she’s still awake,” Fluttershy said, bringing my attention back to the ground. It certainly looked like it. The lights were on, at least. Fluttershy approached the little red door with a candle painted on it and knocked timidly. No one answered.

“Twilight?” Fluttershy squeaked and knocked again, a little louder. No answer.

“Spike, can you run and get my copy of Constellations Throughout History; A Guide To Our Stars? Should be in with the other astrophysics books,” a voice said from above. Fluttershy and I looked up at the same time.

A pony had appeared on the top observation tower and was staring into the strange scientific device as a smaller figure disappeared inside the tree. She then turned away to something. A strange pink light shone from somewhere and I could hear some quiet muttering and the scratching of a pen on parchment.

“Twilight? Um, can you come down for a minute?” Fluttershy actually spoke up a little. Whoever this Twilight was did seem to be rather absorbed in her studies. However, she trotted over to the balcony and looked at us.

“Fluttershy? I wasn’t expecting you at this time of night,” she exclaimed. “It’s awfully late for you to be out. What do you need?”

“Oh... um, well, you see, uh, I don’t actually, uh...need anything right now, I just, uh... there’s somepony new here and... um, I... uh... I thought... um... I thought he should stay with you? You see, uh... I don’t have any room and... uh... I don’t think anypony else does either...” she began.

The strange pink light appeared around the other pony again. It appeared to be on top of her head. Suddenly, the mare disappeared in a ball of white light and materialized again right in front of Fluttershy and I. Fluttershy squeaked and buried her muzzle in her hooves, trembling.

“Oh, sorry,” Twilight said, helping up her friend. Now that she was up close, I could see that a horn poked through her mane, which was indigo with a pink streak. “I’m Twilight Sparkle. What’s your name?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lacuna.” I extended a hoof to her, which she politely shook. “Fluttershy here told me you might let me stay here. I’m new to Ponyville,” I explained. She furrowed her brow, seeming to question my sudden appearance here.

“I thought Fluttershy said something about that. Hopefully you won’t run into Pinkie Pie too early. The welcome party she threw for me was a little over-the-top for my taste, especially when I was just settling in. Have you met her yet?”

“No, and from your description of her, I guess I’m kind of glad I haven’t.”

“Well, you’d better come inside. She tends to pop up out of nowhere.” Fluttershy nodded in agreement. Twilight pushed the little red door in and trotted inside. Fluttershy followed. I sighed and walked in.

Though this library was considerably smaller than my father’s, it appeared to be quite comprehensive and well-organized, chock-full with books. These all had labeled columns of shelves carved into the wood itself that stretched to the ceiling. Each section had a label, alphabetized from Anatomy to Zoology, with all sorts of sciences, arts, literature, magic and histories in between. I had a feeling I would do more than my fair share of studying here, if Twilight let me stay.

I stood in the doorway for a few seconds, taking in the volumes and volumes I would soon hopefully have at my disposal. In sheer excitement, I slowly unfolded my wings and flapped them, ignoring the somewhat subsided pain in my ribs. Although the rest of my powers didn’t really carry over into the living world, I guess I’d managed to retain some of my healing power that all demons have.

I thought I’d never get to see a library again, and here I was. I clumsily lifted myself off the ground in an attempt to explore all the tomes in the place... until I crashed into the ceiling and fell flat on my face. Twilight and Fluttershy both rushed over to help me, but by then it was too late.

“You have four wings,” Twilight stated simply, her jaw hanging open a little. Fluttershy looked horrified and backed up a few paces. She then proceeded to hide behind her mane and whimper in fright. Truth be told, it was adorable.

“Yeah, I suppose I do,” I said, and quickly folded the ruffled feathers into place as best I could. I stood up awkwardly. Twilight watched me in awe.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured.  “Where are you from? I’ve never heard of four-winged pegasi before. Nopony has! Not even Princess Celestia! She’s an alicorn, by the way. You know, a near-immortal pony with incredible powers that possesses both pegasus wings and a unicorn horn!

“Yeah, I-” I tried to interject, but she just kept rambling.

“Are you from another world we Equestrians haven’t discovered where all ponies have four wings? But pegasi have explored the territories surrounding Equestria for eons... Did some spell go awry and cause you to grow an extra pair? But what spell would do that? Maybe a really powerful growth spell... but very few unicorns can do those...

“Were you just born with them? That’s got to be a really rare mutation! It’s a wonder both of your parents carried it! Especially because I’ve never seen it before! Could it have been passed down from generation to generation to generation and never made itself apparent? That’s really unlikely, but possible... Why do you have four wings?”

She was exasperated at her apparent inability to identify the reason for my condition. In reality, wings just happen at random in Hell, but I wasn’t about to tell her where I really was from. Twilight then tried simply poking and prodding them, as if that would give her the answer. I slapped her hoof away with a flick of feathers.

I guess I was just born with them, though I had no idea about this “mutation” thingy or whatever it was. “No touchy, and yeah, I was born with them. I don’t know why or how. I just was.” Honestly, that was the best answer I could provide without revealing my origin.

“Um, well, uh, if you don’t mind, um, well, I, uh, I guess I’d better get going. I have a lot of animals to tend to before I go to bed. I’ll see you later, I guess.” Fluttershy re-entered the conversation, slowly backing out of the library door. “Oh, I really hope the little fillies didn’t mess anything up...” she said as she disappeared into the darkness.

“Bye! See you soon! We still on for that pony pet play date? Cause if not then I have to completely rewrite my schedule, again.” Twilight called after her. I heard a quiet reply from beyond the door before Twilight nodded and shut it softly. She then turned to me, eyeing me kind of creepily.

“Can I help you?” I asked slowly.

“Can I study you? Your wings are fascinating” she stated simply.

“Umm... no?” Came my equally simple reply.

“Please? Just a little bit of DNA testing?” She pleaded.

“How about no.”

“Some physical exercises to see how the muscles interact?”

“No, Twilight. I came here to sleep, not to be a guinea pig.” I said, hoping I’d used that term correctly. I’m pretty sure I understood the concept of a guinea pig as a test subject, even though I’d never actually seen one, or been tested on for that matter. Right then, I was just tired. And I really wanted to get my hands, hooves, on some of those books. I had constantly found my eyes drifting toward them through this whole conversation.

“Hey,” I tore my gaze from those wonderful hardback novels to look at Twilight, “you wouldn’t mind if I grabbed a few of these books to read in bed, would you? I mean, this is a public library, right?”

“Technically, yes, but really I’m the only one who uses it. I occasionally lend books to my friends, but that’s about it. And absolutely you can! As long as I’m not using it, that is. Do you like reading?” There was a spark of happiness in her eyes.

“Hell yes I do!” (the irony, it’s back) “Reading is one of my favorite, and only, pastimes!” I said, watching Twilight’s pupils expand in amazement. I’m pretty sure Twilight would have just kept staring at me in wonder for all of eternity had not a small purple and green figure wandered down the stairs at that moment, carrying a large volume which I presumed to be the book she had requested earlier.

“Hey Twilight, I finally found that book you were looking for! Man, this thing is heavy. WOAH!” he shouted as he caught sight of me. I winced as he lost his balance and tumbled down the steps, the mighty tome landing on top of him. Apparently the very sight of me made... whatever he was... fall. And I thought Fluttershy’s reaction was over the top.

“Spike!” Twilight cried, rushing over to him. “You have to be more careful. You could have damaged the book!” Wow, harsh.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what exactly is he?” I inquired, gesturing toward the creature, whose name was apparently Spike.

“I’m a dragon!” he replied.

I raised an eyebrow, if ponies even have those. “I thought dragons were supposed to be a little bit... bigger.”

“He’s only a baby, only a few years younger than I am,” explained Twilight. “ I hatched him using magic when I was just a filly. I also managed to destroy part of the school and transform both my parents and the judges testing me into various inanimate objects, all in front of Princess Celestia. It wasn’t one of my greater moments.” She chuckled sheepishly.

My already raised eyebrow got higher, I was greatly impressed, and a little frightened, just don’t tell anyone. “Anything else I should know you’re capable of before I stay in the same building with you?” I asked.

“Yeah, there is,” Spike cut in before Twilight could say anything. “Sometimes, when she gets super stressed, she goes completely insane. This one time, she couldn’t think of anything to write to the princess so she took her old doll and... mmpphh!” Spike’s mouth had been clamped shut by sparkling pink magic. I glanced at Twilight. She was looking at Spike with a glare that could have made a gorgon think twice of looking her in the eyes.

“So...” I said awkwardly as the silence began to drag out. “My room is...?

“Up the stairs to the left.” Twilight cut me off, still holding her death stare at Spike, daring him to try and speak again.

“Right, great. I’m just going to, you know, go now...” I slowly slid my way sideways toward the stairs. I grabbed a random book from one of the shelves and beat a hasty retreat from the main room before the awkward overwhelmed.

I made my way up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. I hopped up on the bed, tossing the scythe turned sword into a corner and muttering to myself. “Everybody... everypony, in this town is crazy.” I looked around the room. Even here, there were bookshelves. They appeared to be filled with those half-assed romance novels. The kind that you read before bed because they didn’t require much brain power. A small, round window was set in the wall, providing a nice view of the stars.

Something stung in my side and I whipped my head around to examine it. The cuts and bruises I had obtained earlier apparently hadn’t healed, even though my ribs had. I figured I would retain some of my healing ability for internal wounds, but I guess superficial cuts healed at a slower pace to conceal my origins in Hell.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the light of the moon coming right in through the window. I stood there and watched the glowing silver disk for a few minutes before lighting up the candle on the bedside table next to me and lifting my book. Life and Legends of Starswirl the Bearded read the cover.

I lay back, letting my head hit the soft pillow. After all the abuse I had suffered in the last day, I felt like I was on a cloud. I closed my eyes and just rested for a second, letting it all sink in. I was alive, I was safe and I was in the place of my dreams. Life is good, I thought. With that in mind, I cracked open the book and started on page one. I was deep into Starswirl’s adventure to the Midnight Armory around page 300 when I nodded off to sleep.

*****

I don’t know how long I slept, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours when a rustling sound dragged me back into consciousness. The moon had moved out of my view through the window. Groggily, I rolled over only to face Twilight standing by my bed, holding a measuring tape between her hooves. The length to which said measuring tape was extended approximated the length of one of my smaller pairs of wings.

“Mmph... Twilight, I said no experiments...” I grumbled.

“Oh! Uh, this isn’t an experiment! I’m just making... uh... scientific observations!” she stammered, flashing an awkward smile in my direction.

Alright, I admit I had been doing quite a lot of sighing over the past day or so, but this one felt significantly more justified than the rest. “Riiiiiiiight,” I groaned, rolling back over.

“Okay, fine, I won’t take any more measurements. It’s four in the morning anyway. I should probably get some sleep... heh heh...” She backed toward the staircase, and once she reached it, she immediately bolted up to what I assumed was her own bedroom. I waited for at least half an hour until no sound came from upstairs before nervously falling asleep again.

*****

I woke up once again when the sun streamed in through the window, just where the moon had last night. I rolled out of bed, hoping Twilight wasn’t up yet. However, as I descended down the stairs, I stopped in my tracks as my optimism was instantly shattered.

Twilight sat at a stool with heavy bags under her eyes, staring at a sheet of paper. Her horn had that strange pink glow around it and it appeared to be levitating a quill, which was putting the finishing touches on a drawing that looked suspiciously like my left set of wings. This included a color-coded diagram of the bone and muscle structure, indicating just how everything was connected, as well detailed notes on wing ratios and functionality. All I could do at this point was shake my head. She must have faked going to bed and stayed up all night working on this. Then again, I wasn’t exactly surprised.

I figured there was really nothing I could do to stop her. She would get her data, be done with her experiments, and eventually move on to something else. She must have been studying the stars for a reason until I interrupted her. Now, all I had to do was remember to never, under any circumstances, blink in her presence, despite her own apparent ability to teleport. I had a feeling she would give up her entire life just to study me. Then again, studying seemed to be the summation of her life anyway.

After contemplating this for a few minutes, I continued on my way down the stairs. “Good morning,” is all I could think to say. Twilight obviously was too wrapped up in her work to notice me on my way downstairs. She jumped about four feet in the air and frantically tried to hide her drawings, her hooves flying all over the place. All she managed to do was knock over a bottle of deep black ink, which then shattered on the floor.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I... uh... didn’t know you were awake!” she spluttered as the ink spread out over the floor. She sprung off her stool in search of a rag to mop up as much of the soon-to-be black stain on the oak boards.

“I noticed,” I replied dully. Twilight managed to find a rag and was soaking up as much of the ink as she could. Unfortunately, the ink had already settled in and left a large black blob shape in the floor, stained to the point of no return.

“Maybe if I pace over it enough it’ll wear out...” she wondered aloud. It did appear that a lot of the floor was worn through, presumably from her pacing. Around the center table there was even a circular ditch that had been eroded away. I wouldn’t put it past her to be able to obliterate this stain within a few days.

“Anyway, would you like some breakfast?” she asked awkwardly. It was only then I realized I hadn’t eaten in about three days. My stomach rumbled, probably loud enough for Twilight to hear.

“What do you have?” I replied.

“We have... oat pancakes, oat waffles, oat toast, oatmeal, oat bran, oat bacon, hay pancakes, hay waffles, hay toast, haymeal, hay bran, hay bacon, hay browns aaaaand water. Do any of those sound good?

I grimaced a little. “... Not particularly, no.” Of course, I only knew what water, oats and hay were. None of those seemed particularly bad, but waffles just seemed like a gross word in general. So naturally, I added, “but I’ll have some of those oat waffles.”

“Oh, okay. Oat waffles coming right up!” she announced as she dashed off into a side room, which I assumed was the kitchen. Even the kitchen is full of books! I thought as I turned my head in the direction Twilight had gone. She appeared to be reading from one of the thicker volumes, muttering to herself, “two eggs, two cups of oat flour, some salt, milk, baking powder, sugar, vanilla... and butter!” She summoned all of these ingredients with her horn with a pop and dumped them into a large bowl, proceeding to mix them all with a whisk held by a levitation spell.

I wasn’t sure which I was more enthralled by; Twilight’s ability to mix all of these ingredients together in a seemingly harmonious manner, or the sheer amount books she actually owned. It just wasn't fair! Either way, as she poured the mix onto a device that I supposed would cook them, I caught myself thinking, I could get used to this. I continued to glance at titles on shelves, reading everything from A Pony’s Guide to Carrot Cuisine to Pies, Fries, and Greasy Surprise to I Can’t Believe it’s not Meat! (for all of your carnivorous curiosities). Well, at least that last one was an option, though I did wonder why in Equestria Twilight would have a copy of such a strange publication. Then again, it was a public library.

As I read title after title a strange scent wafted past my nostrils. It was weird and new to me, but somehow, I liked it. I looked back to Twilight, who was plopping some bizarre bread-like things onto a plate. I presumed these were the oat waffles. I walked over to the counter as she poured a thick, golden brown liquid on top of them.

“Maple syrup,” she simply stated, noticing my raised eyebrow. “I think you’ll like it.” I examined the plate, then looked down at my hooves.

“Uh, how am I supposed to carry it?” I asked, raising my eyebrow further, which hurt, so I stopped. What can I say? I’m good at causing myself pain.

“With your teeth, duh!” she said as if it was second nature to her. With that, I stooped over, opened my mouth and clamped the plate in my teeth. I took extra precaution to keep it level as I stood back up and followed Twilight over to the table. She had apparently used a levitation spell to carry her plate. Lucky darn unicorns.

“Thank you,” I tried to say, but the plate got in the way of my tongue and all that really came out was “Hurnk ur.” Twilight chuckled as she set her plate on the table and sat down. I placed my own plate across from her and nibbled the... waffle.

Needless to say, it was delicious. I hadn’t tasted anything like it before. It was an all new kind of flavor. I just couldn’t put my finger... uh, hoof on it.

“Sweet, huh?” Twilight almost seemed to read my mind. She had been doing that a lot, it was weird. Then again, I wouldn’t exactly put it past her. So that’s what it was called. I guess sweet things don’t really have much of a place in Hell. And the cooks were terrible, they just kept burning everything. Get it? Because it was Hell. Funny right? Well, sh-shut up, I thought it was good.

I was just about to take another bite when a knock came from the front door. “I’ll get it,” said Twilight, trotting toward the entrance. I heard the lock click and the door swing open only to weird springy sound effects. It seemed like somepony was bouncing around outside the door.

“Hi Twilight! I smelled your waffles from, like, a mile away and they just smelled so good I just had to stop by for some! I just came from Sugarcube Corner and was eating some of my favorite cupcakes but then the smell of waffles caught my nose and I followed it all through Ponyville and at first I thought it was from Sweet Apple Acres because Applejack loves to make waffles but it wasn’t there so I thought maybe it was at the Carousel Boutique but Sweetie Belle isn’t that good of a cook yet so then I thought maybe it’s from Fluttershy’s cottage and she’s making a special breakfast for her animals but her windows were dark and I know Rainbow Dash thinks she’s too cool for waffles, but I mean, really, who’s too cool for waffles? So anyway I knew it just had to be you!” squeaked a voice that was way too excited for this hour. Or any hour, really. It was a loud, quite frankly obnoxious voice.

“Oh, hey Pinkie Pie, it’s great to see you! Even if your little tirade there wasn’t necessary.” Hmm, Pinkie Pie. Didn’t Fluttershy say something about avoiding her for the time being? “Here, come inside and join us for breakfast. Spike’s not up yet, but there’s someone you need to meet.” Gee, thanks a lot Twilight.

Twilight came around the corner, followed by a solid pink pony with the curliest hair I’d ever seen, which was an even brighter pink than the rest. I guess they called her “Pinkie Pie” for a reason. She didn’t even so much walk as bounce, and her hair bounced with her. Upon seeing me, she jumped about four feet in the air and hovered there for a few seconds as she appeared to be having a seizure. Before I knew it, however, a massive pink streak came careening toward me and knocked me right over the chair and onto the ground.

“Oof!” I grunted and stared up into the pony’s shocking blue eyes of madness.

“THERE’S A NEW PONY IN TOWN!” she squealed. “THERE’S GONNA BE A PARTAAAAYYYY!!!!!!” She then proceeded to bounce up and down around the room singing an irresistibly catchy tune.

“Okay, okay, time for introductions,” Twilight sighed. “Pinkie, this is Lacuna.”

“Lacuna? That’s a weird name! Where are you from! I’ve never seen you before! You must be new. And because you’re new, you must not know anypony. And if you don’t know anypony, that means you don’t have any friends! And that’s why I’m gonna throw you a super-duper-uper-awesome welcome party so you’ll have lots and lots of friends!” With that, she dashed into the central library, pulled a large blue cylinder out of nowhere, and I mean out of freaking thin air, stood behind it, and with a resounding clap of thunder and weird squeaking noises, fired dozens of... things into the air, which all settled perfectly into place as decorations for a large event. Streamers, balloons, napkins, a full bowl of fruit punch. Wait, what was that last one? Doesn’t even matter. “And that’s why I brought my party cannon!” she squealed, resuming her bouncing.

“That’s g-great,” I managed to stutter. Fluttershy was right about this pony being a little bit of handful sometimes. Sometimes? What was I talking about, all the damn time! She was like a force of nature, if nature had drank six cups of coffee and was on a sugar high.

“Well, Lacuna, I guess you’ve met Pinkie Pie. Better go meet everypony in your very own ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ party,” Twilight muttered in my ear.

“Alright, alright,” I hissed back. “Might as well get this over with.” I stood up, stretched out my now-aching back, and stepped into the room beyond as Pinkie ran out the front door and screamed at the top of her lungs, “PINKIE PARTY!”