My name is Zaxus Gravekeeper. I’m a young unicorn stallion with a dark purple coat. My mane and tail are red and black. Currently, I am nearing the end of my Battlemage apprenticeship. My master says I can look forward to a place within Lady Everstar’s own Court of Miracles. This story, however, is not about the glorious future or great mages or grand adventures. This is the story of a small village called Hollow Shades. This is the story of a Lich named Blackthorn. This is the story of how the Clans Gravekeeper and Vigil died, again and again.
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The sound of stone grinding against stone filled the passageway of the crypt. The hornlights from the old Gravekeepers that I called family were cut off from my view entirely as it thudded into place. The ancient stone slab that protected the final resting place of Gravekeepers and Watchers alike lit up with magical runic and slowly faded back to a dull gray. I am alone with only my own hornlight and the insignia of the Clan Gravekeeper banded to my front right leg. Our insignia is a pony skull with a spider web fracture originating from the crown. I tighten the band that holds my insignia to me, even though I know I shouldn’t need it. Of all the crypts in the graveyard, we pay special attention to our own.
The entire graveyard is warded against necromantic magic, and the Watchers zealously deal with any suspicious and unknown ponies wandering the grounds unescorted. The insignias of the Clans Gravekeeper and Watcher are more than just pretty decorations and identifiers, though. Each is a talisman enchanted to dispel magic that re-animates the dead. The Hollow Shades Graveyard is the biggest collection of mausoleums, crypts, and graves in any kingdom on the continent. Unfortunately, that also makes it the biggest destination for necromancers, ghoulcallers, and liches.
Even though I’ve spent just about my entire life tending the graveyard alongside my family, being alone with the dead is unnerving. My familiarity with the upper levels of this particular crypt lets me keep my calm and gather my thoughts for my situation. As a rite of passage into adulthood amongst the Clans every young mare or stallion must descend into the tenth basement level of the Clans’ crypt and learn the full history of Hollow Shades. The top two levels of the Clan crypt are open to all visitors, provided they are being escorted by at least one Gravekeeper or Watcher. Most outsiders aren’t even aware that the crypt goes down eight more levels, though. Those levels are forbidden to all outsiders, anyway, and to young clansponies until they are ready to take their place as adults among the clans.
My hoofsteps on the clean stone floor crack through the silent dead as I walk past the alcoves of my grandparents, Mordacai and Songbird, some distant relatives, and my recently deceased uncle. I stop to honor Uncle Deveros. It was unclear what exactly killed him, only that it wasn’t necromancers. Necromancers never pass up an opportunity to raise Gravekeepers. Whatever it was, he should have known better than to venture off the road into the damned evil forest that Hollow Shades is named after.
Turning away from my musings, I faced the door to the lower levels of the crypt. The magical seals and runes lit up as I evoked the counterspell my father taught me as preparation for my rite. As a unicorn, I can simply cast the spell. Non-unicorns of the clan Gravekeeper have to use a spell scroll during their rite of adulthood. The wards on this door are weaker than at the entrance; however, it serves its purpose in keeping curious visitors out of the restricted section. Even as the sound of stone grinding against stone reaches my ears the powerful smell of rot and decay causes me to gag slightly. The smell of death is something that permeates the graveyard, but this was concentrated beyond anything I had smelled before. With the stone door retracted into the wall, it reveals a steep, narrow stairway. My horn-light doesn’t even reach the landing below from the top of the stairs. The slab of stone waits for me to get past before taking the liberty of grinding back into place.
I have to admit I wasn’t prepared to see what I did when I came out of the stairway to the third basement floor. Instead of being wrapped in burial shrouds and laid out in alcoves along the hallways, bodies were strewn around the entire level. It looked as if some kind of fight had taken place, and even those who had been dead before wanted to join in. Those bodies that had burial shrouds looked like they had tangled and ripped their bindings in their haste to participate. My brain kept telling me there was another detail wrong about this room. My hoofsteps were muffled by layers of dirt and dust as I walked to the staircase at the end of this level to continue my descent.
It was the same story on basement floors four through eight. It wasn’t until I reached the eight basement floor that I realized what was wrong. Every single body I saw had a medallion of a lidless eye banded to their front right foreleg. Every single pony here had the insignia of Clan Watcher. It was as if there wasn’t a single Gravekeeper who had taken part in the brawl.
The ninth level was clean. It was actually as clean as the top two levels. There was no dust. No cobwebs. There actually weren’t even any bodies. There were only empty alcoves and clean stones. Halfway across the floor, I noticed that the darkness seemed to be closing in and that it was getting cold. My hornlight had been able to reach from the center of a room to the staircases at each end. Now, I had lost sight of both ends of the hallway with only the walls to guide me. When I reached the staircase descending to the tenth floor, I could see my breath rising in a pale mist in front of my muzzle.
The tenth and final level of the crypt was a completely different design. All the previous floors had consisted of hallways with alcoves to lay the dead to rest on. They were constructed of smooth stone walls and floors. The floor and walls of this level were roughly hewn out of the dirt, as if this was an addition that never got finished. There were no walls or alcoves for bodies, the room was entirely open. There were bodies scattered around the center of the room, faced toward the wall opposite me. Even more bodies were heaped in piles along the walls and in the two corners that I could see from the staircase. I could tell from a distance that all of these bodies bore the insignia of the Clan Gravekeeper.
As I stepped into the room, a sharp coldness shot through my hoof and foreleg. It was as if the room itself was trying to absorb the heat from my body. I made my way across the floor, and my hornlight dimmed on both sides until I could only see what was directly in front of me. I didn’t have to walk far before I saw what the bodies in the middle of the room were facing.
Before I could make out what was on the opposite side of the room, a chilled wind seemed to come from in front of me. As it passed, a feeling of despair sized hold of my mind. It was as if icy claws had gripped my stomach, heart, and legs. What I wanted to do was turn and flee, however my body didn’t want to turn its back to whatever was in the shadow. I inched my way forward for I don’t know what amount of time until I saw it.
It was an onyx throne. Upon it sat the skeleton of a unicorn wearing black robes which were embroidered with purple amethyst gemstones. Tucked in the pony’s right foreleg was another amethyst. This one was cylindrical about a meter in length, with several cracks running along several of the faces. Instead of being clear the crystal was blackened as though it had been on fire on the inside. I knew immediately what I was looking at, even if I didn’t want o believe what I was seeing.
That was a broken phylactery.
These were the remains of a lich.
And there was a Gravekeeper insignia banded to the front right forehoof.
Under the skeletal front left hoof there was a book. Again, against the better judgment of what was left of my working mind, my body began to inch its way forward. As my hoof slowly reached out toward the book I could see actual ice beginning to form on it. I couldn’t even feel the cold; I was merely an observer by then. My hoof made contact with the book.
Warmth flooded through my body. I gasped for air. I don’t know how long I had been holding my breath. The entire room was now illuminated by my hornlight, I could even see the entrance to the staircase from the onyx throne now. I could think clearly again, even though the abject terror I had experienced earlier left a pounding headache. I pulled the book out from under the hoof of the dead lich, and dropped it on the ground. I looked at the first page.
It read, “The Journal of Mordacai Gravekeeper”.
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Entry #1 7/18/1299 ANM (After Nightmare Moon).
I have begun my necromancer training under my father. I had hoped that we would start animating the dead immediately, but it turns out my lessons begin with long winded lectures. The old man could talk your ears off and keep going on subjects that aren’t important. When it comes to animating the dead, I thought he was going to drive me insane. A whole week of his lectures and we have only covered one very basic lesson that every Gravekeeper learns when they are a foal; Only animate the dead of Clan Gravekeeper or Clan Vigil, and even then only for training or times of crisis.
Entry #148 1/1/1302 ANM.
Today is the happiest day of my life. I have finally won the hoof of my Songbird in marriage. The ceremony was held at the Hollow Shades town hall. I thought the Clans would cause the poor old building to burst like an over-inflated balloon by trying to fit everypony in. Some eventually had to settle for lining the streets with other well wishers and friends from town. I can see the carriage to our honeymoon in the Evening Kingdom coming down the road.
Entry #180 11/5/1302 ANM.
My son Deveros has been born. He takes after his mother, insofar as he is an Earth pony. As the midwife was leaving, she told me he was the biggest newborn foal she had ever seen. The first time I held little Deveros he gripped my hoof. He will certainly grow up to be the biggest and strongest Gravekeeper this clan has ever seen. I’m looking after the foal while Songbird rests.
Entry #247 8/17/1306 ANM.
My second son, Voldor, has been born just as healthy as Deveros. This one is a unicorn. When I first entered the room after the midwife left, he looked right at me. He has the widest, brightest eyes I have ever seen. Perhaps I’ll be able to teach him the secrets of necromancy, just as my late father taught me.
Entry #263 7/14/1308 ANM.
Songbird hasn’t been doing well with her third pregnancy.
Entry #264 7/15/1308 ANM.
Songbird is dead. My daughter is dead.
Entry #265 7/16/1308 ANM.
Songbird lives. Agatha lives.
Entry #266 7/17/1308 ANM.
The Clan Vigil isn’t happy.
Entry #267 7/18/1308 ANM.
The Clan Vigil is dead.
Entry #268 7/19/1308 ANM.
The Clan Vigil lives.
Entry #269 7/20/1308 ANM.
I am Blackthorn the Immortal.
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The journal entries stop at number two hundred sixty-nine. I can’t believe what I’ve read. Is this really what my rite of passage was about? Of course I had seen some of the oldest members of the clan use necromancy. It was the only reliable way to test our insignias. Before I can begin to wrap my head around the journal, the bodies in the room begin to glow. And move.
The one nearest me simply walks right up to me, as if my insignia didn’t even matter, and too the journal from me. It then proceeded to replace the journal under the front left hoof of the lich. That thing can’t be Mordacai. Grandpa may have died a long time ago, but his coffin was on the second basement floor. I’d seen it many times.
The room is now filled with the rustling and uneven hoofsteps of the dead. They form a half circle around me, just staring at me with empty eye sockets. They’re well within the range for my insignia to begin dispelling the magic that animates them.
Unless.
Unless they aren’t just enchanted bodies, but their souls are also bound. This is something that would require a powerful necromancer. A lich. The one on the throne. I tried to turn to face the dead lich, but bony hooves and taunt flesh push me back to face the stairs.
With few options, I begin to walk toward the stairs. The ranks of the dead part as I walk through them. When I finally reach the stairs, each body turns to face the onyx throne and lies down again. Their glow fades as their souls find rest again.
I ran. I ran as fast as I could across rooms and up stairs. I will admit that I fully disrespected the bodies of the Watchers, or Vigils as they may very well have been when they died. I shamelessly jumped over and trampled the bodies of the fallen in my haste. At least these poor souls had been allowed to pass on. When I reached the door at the top of the stairs to the second basement level I was exhausted. It was all I could do to evoke the counterspell and crawl past the doorway.
I stopped to rest in front of my uncle’s coffin.
“Zaxus? Zaxus, get up and listen to me,” spoke a strangely familiar voice from the shadows.
Startled, I looked around for the source of the voice. There was no movement. “Who’s there?” I called into the room.
“Fool boy. Don’t you recognize your own uncle’s voice?” it replied.
“What? No, Deveros is dead, but you sound like him,” I said.
“Sometimes I wonder if you really are your father’s son, but never mind. There is something you need to know about the Gravekeepers. You saw what was on the bottom floor,” Deveros said.
“What in Tartarus was that? Who was that lich? Why, what even, what?” I spoke in gradually more hysterical tones.
“Just calm down. I need you to open my coffin,” Deveros said.
Knowing my uncle wouldn’t give me any answers until I did as he asked, if it really was him, I lifted his coffin down from the alcove. Lifting the lid revealed his body, wrapped in burial shrouds as it ought to have been. I looked back around the room.
“Alright, who are you and where are you?” I glanced around the dark corners of the room.
“Look down, fool boy,” Deveros said.
When he spoke the chest of the body lit up with a strong purple light. It faded when he ended his sentence.
“Open my chest and I will tell you the truth. I will tell you of the duty and curse of the Gravekeepers,” Deveros said.
I stared in disbelief. I didn’t want to desecrate his body, but I had to know the truth. My horn lit up with another glow as I tore the burial shroud. I then gripped this ribcage on both sides with my magic and pulled. With a sickening crunching, cracking sound his chest gave way. Inside was an amethyst soulgem. This one was perfectly spherical.
“The other Gravekeepers are expecting you to finish your rite and leave the crypt soon, so I’m going to have to give you the short answers,” Deveros said. “Even speaking to you like this is a secret that I shouldn’t be revealing to you.”
“Your grandpa made himself a lich when your father and I were young colts. Before that, and during his time, the Clan Gravekeeper protected this graveyard with necromancy,” Deveros said.
“Now just be patient while I tell you about the Clan Watcher and the Secret War of the Necromancers,” Deveros began his tale.
“When your grandma Songbird and her unborn foal died, Mordacai was thrown into a fit of depression and rage. The very few Gravekeepers left who survived those times told me that his change was sudden and drastic. Perhaps something else had been going on, but I digress.” Deveros began his tale.
“The purpose of the Clan Vigil was to keep external threats out of the graveyard and the local town. Mostly necromancers. They never thought that the Gravekeepers they were protecting were, themselves, practicing necromancy. They found out when they learned that Songbird had died, and the very next day she was with my father.
“Needless to say, all the children of both clans were sent into town while the matter was resolved. In his grief, Mordacai sealed himself and Songbird within this very crypt. The Vigil contacted the courts of each of the four princesses about the threat of a necromancer and potential lich in the Hollow Shades Graveyard.
“Help quickly arrived in the form of the best Mentalists the kingdoms had to offer. When the crypt was unsealed, a flood of ghouls and zombies overwhelmed the assembled ranks of the Vigil. They nearly took the Mentalists down as well, were it not for the intervention of the Clan Gravekeeper.
“When the last of the Vigil was torn down by bony, frenzied hooves and dark magic, they all rose again as zombies themselves. While necromancy is frowned upon, at this point everypony living knew that there was a lich in this crypt. They allowed the Gravekeepers and their ghouls to lead the battle against Mordacai, by then he would have started calling himself Blackthorn the Immortal.
“You’ve seen the results of the push into the crypt. When Gravekeepers and Mentalists finally reached his throne room, Blackthorn was furious to see his clan standing against him. Traitors, he called them. The Mentalists may have been on a noble mission; however they saw an opportunity to rid themselves of two enemies at once and took it. They stood back while Blackthorn expended all his energy killing and cursing with undeath the first Gravekeepers to enter his chamber.
“Cursed they may have been, but the Gravekeepers were not enthralled. They continued to fight and distract Blackthorn while the Mentalists subdued him. He was finished once they captured his phylactery. It was taken away so that the world could learn all they could about the stronger necromancer. And they destroyed it when they were finished. Even I don’t know how his remains and broken phylactery got back here. Perhaps the dead always find their way to Hollow Shades.
“Some of the Mentalists who subdued Blackthorn returned to Hollow Shades to try and rebuild the clan Vigil. What they saw was that there wasn’t much to rebuild. Instead, they joined and renamed it the clan Watcher. They knew the mistake of the Vigil was that they only looked for external threats, and resolved not to make the same mistake twice.
“Which brings really brings us to the present, and my condition,” Deveros finished his story.
“Every member of the modern Clan Gravekeeper has their soul attuned to a soulgem. Our duty is to keep an eternal vigil as penance for the past. We also serve as a font of power for the living Gravekeepers. In times of crisis we now use the soul magic, rather than the bodies, of our dead to defend ourselves,” Deveros said.
“I didn’t agree, and attempted to destroy my own soulgem. That is why I was killed.” Deveros paused, as though he could hear something I couldn’t.
“Put the lid back on my coffin and the coffin back in its alcove. They’re tired of waiting for you, and are coming to see if you are alright. Come back later. Retrieve my soulgem and your own. I know where it is. Together, we will leave this place and free ourselves of this curse,” Deveros said quickly.
For the second time I found myself stunned by mind blowing revelations. I could hear the big stone slab guarding the entrance to the crypt starting to slide open above me. What else could I do except what my uncle told me to?
I passed my rite to adulthood among the clan Gravekeeper. Three days later, I snuck back into the crypt and stole the two soulgems. I guess it really isn’t stealing, though. One was mine, and the other wanted to leave. I fled as fast as I could out of town, and out of the forest. I turned toward the Evening Kingdom. Perhaps there I would find the magic that could help me.
And I did.
I haven’t been able to destroy mine or my uncle’s soulgems, yet. I have been able to modify mine, though.
My name is Zaxus Gravekeeper. Someday, I will die. Someday, I will become a lich.
