Sins of The Past

"Where did you come from, outlander?" Iron paced around the bound human, his irritation growing palpable. The dark-skinned man grinned, saying cheekily,

"From my mother, where else?", quickly being slapped across the face by an angered Iron Ire.

"That is not funny! Tell me who sent you! We eliminated your kind from these lands many millennia ago! Why have you come back?!" he roared, slamming his hooves against the man's thighs, relishing in the resounding crack echoing through the room. The man bit back a scream, setting for a small whimper. He chewed on his lip, choosing his words very carefully.

"How do I say this? Oh, yes, that's right: Go fuck yourself, you dried up old bastard!" The man's skin crackled and burnt like he was lit from the inside. Slowly, but surely, he was reduced to ashes. Iron pawed through them, sure there was some trick to what he had seen. Nothing remained of the man but the dust in his hooves.

He roared, summoning his best mages to his side. Sharp commands to study the dust ripped forth from his lips. Satisfied work was being done, he stormed out. The pawn may have been lost to fire, but the queen was still out there, somewhere. Even if he had to rip her corpse from Celestia's cold, dead hooves, he would not lose that piece also.

Thunder looked around. Since the events of the prior night, he hadn't been left unaccompanied. Much to his chagrin, this made it a lot harder to sneak sweets. The guard charged with watching over him, however, had left to go to the bathroom, under the impression that Thunder would stay put. The slender blond pony slunk away, constantly looking back to check that he wasn't followed.

He could almost taste the sweet moon cakes that Luna had made... Suddenly, he heard a tapping. Against his better judgement, he looked up, coming muzzle to muzzle with Ebony.

"C'mon kid. It ain't safe here. They'll have to deal with Frost on their own terms, 'cause we're out." Before he could say a word, the larger stallion had taken him into his hooves and simply disappeared, leaving naught but ashes.

The guard returned to find that Thunder was gone. He sprinted down the hall, dashing through the pile of dust and leaving hoofprints behind. They glittered in the morning sun with a golden glint.

Purple skies contrasted neatly with blue-grey clouds that billowed and rolled with impressive speed. Wind rushed through the black grasses, brushing them against Frost's hooves. He knew what he was seeing was a lie but yet, he wanted it to carry on. It was a beautiful deception, protecting him from the truth.

The truth that, like Enigma, Ebony, and Thunder, he wasn't meant to last for much longer in this world.

Enigma was consumed by the sickness that lurked within her for many years, repressed and rejected, until it couldn't be anymore. Unfortunately for Equestria, this also meant hell for anyone else who caught it. Fools, they tried so hard to cure it, to prevent its spread, but how does one stop the manifestation of a festering hate?

Ebony, always the flake, burnt himself to cinders, stealing away with him Thunder. Said something about a stronghold, in some place called America. Only 'til he could coerce a god into restoring his world, of course. As though he'd give up the chance to rule with a burning fist.

Frost had heard murmurs of another trail of destruction, of death, of decay. Trademarks of someone who very well should be dead himself. Alfred, guardian of the lost and dead. What would he be doing here? ... Unless ... No, that was a stupid idea. Surely, he didn't evacuate here, of everywhere he could have ran? No, not plausible.

Still, he decided he would keep an eye out for the ex-god. If anything, maybe he knew how to get out of here.

But, there was the problem of the war. The war that they, the fallen, were recruited (alright, more voluntold) to prevent. Something about interuniversal havoc if Iron got his way. What of that? Would he really be so cowardly to leave and risk this world as well? Did he not have a duty to carry out? If not to this world, then to his dead queen?

Frost wasn't sure anymore. An idea blossomed, a relief-giving revelation like the break of dawn after a long winter's night. Princess Celestia had that student, Dusk, who she doted on. A genius, if the Sun princess was to be believed. Certainly she knew something about universe jumping. They had to have jumped to bring them back. It was a thought so obvious, he was ashamed he hadn't thought it before. Of course, that's how he would get home.

Heading towards the gleaming city in the distance, he resolved his inner conflict. He would save Equestria, and Equestria would save him. He would not die in pain and rot like his Queen. Not today, not ever. A cold wind swept him up, taking him to the doors of Canterlot Castle.

Celestia sighed. The hearings for today had been especially long and tedious, capitalizing on the stress taking its hold on her mind. She couldn't shake the sight of the dust from her mind. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, yes, but there had to be more to it than that. Despite all their hard work, and Twilight's non-stop research, all that they could find was that the dust was once a pony. Nothing more, nothing less.

Simply, a pony.

Twilight had yet to give up on the conundrum, and it showed. If she wasn't reminded to eat and sleep, she was more than willing to neglect both. Celestia ran a hoof across her forehead, swiping a few stray hairs out of her eyes. What was she thinking, trusting K? Nothing but disaster had come of it.

A loud bang rung out, prompting Celestia to put her queenly mask back on. Must be a late petitioner, she reasoned. The pony that strode up the aisle was a far cry from a late petitioner, and Celestia found herself wishing that he was. However, wishes were simply that and not reality; the reality was, she was looking into the hollow eyes of one of the abominations she had bargained for.

Sweat shone on his crystal-clear body which itself exuded a flesh-cutting chill. White wisps of mane stuck to his face, frozen in place. He bowed, pressing his horn to the ground at her feet. Celestia drew her cape closer around herself, motioning for him to rise. He did so. She sighed again.

"Forgive my impudence, Princess, but I believe we have a conflict to attend to," Frost said, his expression grave. "Iron Ire is rallying the troops. Presently, he has a standing army of --" Frost paused to do some quick calculations, gesturing in the air with one hoof. "-- I'd say, 40,000 or so troops."

Celestia quirked an eyebrow at the unicorn, unimpressed.

"And what, if I may ask, made your highness come back to fight? I thought you were going to freeze us all? Was I misinformed?" The venom dripped off of her razor-sharp voice. She had her fill of these rude ponies just trotting in and out as they damn well pleased. It was infuriating, the lack of respect they paid her.

"I have a duty to my Queen, the one that you keep necromancing might I add," Frost said, irritation seeping through his blank facade. "May we speak in private?"

"How did you know?" Celestia stuttered, shocked by the bare reveal of her dirty secret.

Frost scoffed, flipping his mane back.

"Please. You're about as subtle as a kick in the face. Hour long bathroom breaks? Really? I didn't just fall off the turnip truck, you know."

Celestia sighed, rising slowly to her feet. She motioned for Frost to follow.