The Longest Journey

by Arathus

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Human, Dark
Length: 9418

Be it from the hands of a power-driven mage, or a staged coup among the ranks of Tartarus, Equestria will plunge into chaos. However, the plans of the lesser evil may yet cripple the greater.

Be it from the hands of a power-driven mage, or a staged coup among the ranks of Tartarus, Equestria will plunge into chaos. However, the plans of one evil may yet cripple the other. The Elements of Harmony must choose which.

—
Timeline is set somewhere within season 3, after reformation of Discord, but before winged Twilight.

Current editors are:
Wobble
sourichan

On hold/former editors are:
JeffCvt
anacreon
Adda le Blue
Section
jeray2000

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-10-26 10:42:40 UTC

Orders and Demands I

Cold, so dreadfully cold.

There was nothing alive a thousand miles in each direction. The sound of the hoofsteps resonated across the barren, snow-covered plains. A light on the horizon – a cottage. Faster, faster. He urged the horse with a strike of his shoes.

No warming day, only freezing gale.

Stars and galaxies shone across the heavens, accompanied by colourful auroras. Two enormous moons guarded the sky, like the Queen’s sentinels, each one adorned by a belt of stardust. An occasional comet flared across the sky.

He dismounted and walked up to the entrance of the cottage. Two light knocks sounded off the wooden door. A deafened call told him to come inside. The door creaked loudly, breaking the silence violently. The freezing wind threw the messenger inside and drew him into a furious battle when he tried to close the door.

He welcomed the warmth of the fire and air that didn’t fill his lungs with needles of ice. At last. A woman sat on one of the armchairs standing beside the fireplace. She was dressed in a thin, black cloak,  a shirt just as dark, trousers, and a pair of heavy looking shoes. She drew the light out of the room with her clothing, no, uniform, the messenger corrected himself.

Truth be told, the woman was neither beautiful, nor hideous, her small breast concealed by the customary male clothing. She appeared old, very old though. Her raven black hair didn’t show it, nor her very slightly creased face. But in her eyes, one could see wisdom; weariness accumulated over long years. She nodded at the armchair beside her and the messenger walked to it hastily and eagerly. He sank into the cushions with a sigh.

“It was a long time, wasn’t it.” The woman smirked slightly, a ghost of a smile many would miss. Not the messenger though; he had an eye keen enough. “I suppose I’m on a break. I have the right to take a break every so often, don’t I?” But the messenger’s dire expression didn’t change. “Apparently not so much.”

The messenger nodded, at a loss of words for a second. “No one is on a break. Not since last week.” The woman’s smile disappeared from her lips. She sat straighter; an encouragement to explain further. “Do you remember Project Astralis?”

The woman nodded. “We surrendered eight worlds, the names I don’t remember now, into chaos, to ‘reclaim the balance in the universe.’ Apparently we were winning too much back then. But it’s ancient history, thousands of years back. How is it relevant now?”

“We didn’t scan the worlds, as you perhaps know. We just had that vague idealistic drive that we should keep the balance. Sadly, they turned out much more valuable than we thought. A lot of ore underneath the surface, and whole races of earth-dwelling beings on seemingly dead spheres.”

“And we didn’t see that we tipped the scale?” asked the woman. At first, the messenger responded with silence. His all-knowing superiors had been wrong, and on a universal scale.

“Not until recently. Far too late, sadly,” the messenger said, a note of despair in his voice.

The woman took a deep breath and held it. “Can we stop it?”

The messenger refused to meet his eyes. “Wolf requires your presence at the Outpost as soon as possible. He said there’s a danger familiar to you, and you’d be the person required to vanquish it for good.”

The woman was silent.

They left the cottage in a rush. The woman simply closed the door; it had no lock. The snowstorm raged about the cottage, obscuring view and taunting them with its howls. The woman raised her hand, snapped her fingers, and called out into the storm.

A black horse galloped out of the blizzard and stopped right before them. The woman tapped the horse’s side, smiling warmly. “How long has it been, my friend? A decade or two? Far too long, I think.”

The messenger left them alone to fetch his own ride. He noticed a strange, crystal-like symbol on the edge of the woman’s cloak, a reminder of sorts, but the woman had never explained what its exact meaning was.

“We’re going to war, buddy,” the woman continued. “Just one last time, I hope you have it in you. I hope I have it in me–”

“Can we go now?” the messenger asked, breaking her monologue. “The cold is killing me.” He shivered, before tapping the white mare beneath him. “Her too.”

The woman mounted her horse. “Let us waste no time then.” They shot off through the storm.

He breathed in deeply and listened, his gaze cast beyond the open window as it filled the cosy room with pleasureful cold.

The air smelt of delightful sorrow, harmonious cries of agony echoed far in the distance. Frozen peaks pierced the sky, taunting any bypassing adventurers with the faceless horrors that rested within the barrows.

Beyond them lay a rainforest – the only place that resisted corruption and retained colour. A group of renegades hid there; they had run from the cities. Every day a few of them fell prey to the dangerous beasts and armed patrols.

He could probably find them all, of course. Find them and slaughter them mercilessly. No. Let them thrive in their freedom, he thought. Let them choke on it.

The sound of metal slamming a wooden door interrupted his thoughts. “You may come inside,” said the mage. A living stash of heavy armour opened the door and walked in, making surprisingly little sound beside gentle thuds.

The mage regarded the creature in amusement. It had a lighter plate with an inscription on it: Property of Sorcerer. The most interesting part of its equipment however, were its shoes. They were armoured, of course, but they were also covered in plush pink fur, an addition helping to stifle the loud clanking noise they made while walking. Sorcerer couldn’t help but grin at the sheer wonder of his creation.

“He calls, master,” said an empty voice from within the armour.

“Prepare the horses then,” answered Sorcerer, already making his way to the door.

“I have already done so, master.”

They had to repeat “master.” Of course they did, he had programmed them to do so. Still, it got surprisingly annoying after a while. “Thank you.” Sorcerer moved across the hall, but stopped abruptly and turned around. “They’re at the eastern entrance, are they not?”

“Yes, master.”

He’d have to reprogram them sometime.

“Master, I and other units have synthesized a hymn in your honour. It’s called Master of the universe, hammer of gods, Devil’s demise, evil in disguise, father of lies, and all the other titles of Sorcerer the Almighty. Shall we sing it to you?”

No, he must reprogram them for the sake of his sanity.

The corridors of the castle were a maze. A very effective one, actually. So effective that Sorcerer found himself mildly wondering whether he’ll die of starvation  two hours of wandering later. He finally stood up from his spot on the ground and opened the door nearby. It led, quite surprisingly, to the back entrance. Finally!

Another golem waited for him at the gate. The scout, able to travel along thanks to the energy-storing crystals that nourished his body. Sorcerer nodded at him and mounted his horse. The trip itself was short; they left the gray plains behind swiftly, their well-bred horses galloping to the edge of exhaustion.

Before them stood a chapel. Twisted, sharp-edged, and built of dark stone. Bas reliefs, once works of art, were now violated by depictions of demons and undead. Sorcerer stepped toward the chapel with a slight smirk upon his lips. God hasn’ttaken revengefor that one yet. He turned to the golem before entering. Sorcerer’s lips moved, but there was only silence for a moment.

“Get back to the castle before your crystals run dry!” he called at last. “And hold on while I’m gone, all right?” The golem saluted before riding off, although no expression showed on its face. It wasn’t capable of feeling emotions.

Sorcerer pushed the enormous, ornate doors open. Inside, the stained glass windows allowed little light, and a simple, empty altar was waiting for him. A dusty goblet stood upon it. Sorcerer took his dagger out from the bosom of his robe, and drew blood from his wrist. Every drop fell straight into the goblet.

When nothing happened for a minute, Sorcerer grinned before turning his gaze heavenward. “You want me to bleed out, don’t you.” He turned into a black cloud and faded away.

---

Two young colts who proudly called themselves “guards” shivered in the breeze. They had no weather conditioning training, no tactics training, probably no combat training, but of course they were her “guards”. Luna sighed in irritation. She stopped by a nightshade flower and inhaled its scent, magically engineered to be both sweet and not poisonous.

Luna sought out a bench and reclined upon it. As she expected, the “guards” didn’t move closer. They would stay in place and freeze their posteriors off as if their life depended on it. At least they understood discipline. Luna sighed deeply. She was getting tired, wasn’t she? “You may sit beside us if you wish,” she said. “Our, uh, my pride shall not suffer on it.”

Luna felt a change. The gardens became slightly colder and she cast a quick spell to warm herself up. It didn’t help.

“Are you completely sure this is the right course of action?” said a voice from behind her.

A cold shiver ran down her spine before she turned around. Her guards were gone, and in their place, leaning on a tree, stood a bipedal creature in black robes and a manic grin upon its face. Human. Luna teleported behind the bench and took a defensive stance.

“Who are you? What do you want?” started Luna, eliciting a sneer from the human.

“You wouldn’t notice my entrance even if I slammed your door with a sledgehammer,” said the creature with an audible tinge of sarcasm in its voice. “I am the doom at your doorstep, the harbinger of your destruction, the death of your loved ones, the devourer of your soul. My name, Sorcerer.”

Luna wondered whether the human was trying to intimidate her, or to amuse himself. Either way, he failed miserably. Her horn flared, preparing both a shield and an offensive spell.

“Resistance is poin... well, just try to hit me.” Sorcerer outstretched his arms wide, waiting for the blow.

Luna pointed her horn at the human and shot a burst of energy, to no effect. It dissipated on a shield of black, swirling mass. He was skillful, it seemed.

Luna teleported to the left, then to the right quickly and fired a stronger missile. The human intercepted again. He only smirked lightly. Impossible!

He was waiting for her to tire out. Luna switched to defensive, waiting to intercept his missile this time. She wanted to see the extent of his power. Could she? The human sent a strike at her: a tentacle of black magic. She put up a strong shield and teleported to the side in case it failed. The attack was ridiculously weak. A defensive specialization.

Luna conserved energy. Her shields were weaker and she made half hearted efforts at dodging. She rarely shot and her shots were blocked. The human was growing weaker, sloppier. She needed only to withstand a while longer. His shield flickered and Luna shot, only to see her own shield flicker down and die. Her horn no longer worked.

Black bile crept up her legs and forcefully pulled her down to the ground. The human approached her at a leisurely pace. Her eyes followed him carefully. Anger lit them, and horror hid deep inside of them. He stepped closer, and eventually knelt in front of her.

“I must admit you fought quite well. Still, you should’ve listened to my advice,” he said calmly, as if scolding a naughty child. She wondered whether the fight was heard in the castle. It should have been, Luna thought, it was loud here in the centre. Hopefully it wasn’t though. If one princess fell so easily, then the other would be in great danger too.

Sorcerer cast a series of complicated spells, rarely doing anything else beside subtle movements with his hands. “Grit your teeth. I’ll try to stop it from hurting,” he murmured, focused on the magic.

Luna felt numbness overtake her whole body. She wasn’t paralysed, but the magic held her in place. An anaesthetic, she thought idly, her consciousness withering away. The mage looked at her guiltily, and cut off the flow of magic as soon as the spell was finished. She gave in at last.

Sorcerer stepped back to see the pony stop moving and let go.

I've hurt her, imprisoned her. Did she deserve it?

He clenched his fist and cast another spell, this time with his eyes closed. He gritted his teeth. Coldness and tranquil emptiness filled his mind. When he opened his eyes again, no guilt could be found in them anymore.

The alicorn’s coat darkened, turning black as her mane and tail grew longer. She was taller and far more intimidating when she arose. She opened her eyes slowly, as if waking up.

“How long has it been, Nightie?” said Sorcerer with a hint of a smile upon his lips.

In answer, he was flung at a nearby tree and struck repeatedly upon its trunk. A few magical missiles were flung his way, but those he managed to block in time. “Does that make for an answer?” said Nightmare Moon. Sorcerer teleported, but she managed to strike him right after he reappeared, causing him to stumble to the ground.

Sorcerer was silent, Nightmare’s eyes bore into him. Slam after telekinetic slam on the tree trunk. He limply hung in the dark blue magic, allowing it to inflict all the pain it desired. Soon enough, the alicorn’s hold on the mage ceased. He slumped to the ground, opening his eyes and looking at her distantly.

“You’re worthless.” She lay on the ground, breathing heavily. “There is nothing for you in Equestria, traitor. Not after what you’ve done.”

“I suppose I deserve everything you wish to do to me,” the mage muttered as swirls of dark magic healed his body. “When I heard you found yourself here, I couldn’t help but try to come. I’m the only one who recalls you reciting the Oath. We swore it together. I remember the uncertainty in your eyes, perhaps you recall the fear in mine...” Sorcerer trailed off, as if waiting for confirmation. He received none though.

Nightmare stood up. “Night damn me! You are the only one who knew me before I became Nightmare.” She paused for a second to gather her thoughts.

“I found the princess of this world a millennium ago. Unwanted and unloved, truly alone. I followed her wishes and was punished for it. However, even when I lay defeated in the back of her mind and watched her thrive, I felt happier than in service of evil.” She sighed, turning away from Sorcerer.

“I’m sorry,” Sorcerer said quietly. She didn’t listen.

“Yet you had no remorse in leaving me. Ten years is a long time to collect one’s thoughts.” Her words chosen carefully, a message delivered in a voice that cut sharper than a sword. Nightmare didn’t turn back to see Sorcerer’s reaction.

“I still had a heart back then. No power could stop it from being torn apart. Darkness doesn’t care about the motivations, about bonds or friendship. It demands. And the demand must be fulfilled.” Sorcerer stood up, yet made no move toward Nightmare. She was silently glad for that.

“You should’ve never come here,” said Nightmare before beating her wings furiously and flying into the starlit sky. Her dark coat became one with the heavens, she shed her regalia and let it fall to the ground, thousands of meters below. She wasn’t a warrior anymore.

Nightmare flew over the rooftops, masked by the starlit sky. Her wings carried her above the green fields and pastures, into the Everfree. She knew well where the ruins lay and there she landed, amidst the stone corridors and halls. There stood the hall of the Elements of Harmony, further was the hall she had been defeated in.

She trod the halls, allowing the memories to seep into her consciousness.

“Luna, I will not fight you! You must lower the moon! It is your duty!” sounded Celestia’s voice. She rarely shouted, but few times has Luna seen her so desperate. Then the fight, Celestia‘s use of the Elements, the banishment. She slept through a thousand years before the Elements could find someone worthy of bearing them and healing Luna.

Nightmare saw the princess cower in fear before her sister. She saw her blush when two fillies offered her a garland of flowers. She recalled her hilarious and awkward behaviour during the Nightmare Night celebration.

Nightmare smiled. “Is it better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven?” asked a voice from behind her.

“It is better to be a prisoner in heaven than to be a champion of hell,” Nightmare answered without hesitation and turned back. She saw a man with very short hair, wearing a red shirt, worn brown jacket and torn denim trousers. It most certainly wasn’t Sorcerer. “War?” she asked, surprised.

“An astute observation,” he remarked before smiling. “I never lose a chance for an interesting talk. Conversation is the core of inspiration, after all.” He paced about and sat down on a fallen stone, Nightmare observing his each step.“What would happen if we made the decisions for ourselves?”

“Don’t we already–” Nightmare stopped as realisation hit her. “I swore an oath to Darkness, not knowing what would happen. The subjects are controlled by kings, the kings by their stronger neighbours, and they by their greed and desire. No one is truly free.”

War clapped his hands with a grin. “Still, you haven’t reached the point. What does it have to do with you?”

Nightmare’s mood darkened. “’Once fallen, never to rise’,” she recited, turning a forlorn stare at the ground. “I will have to raise my sword against Equestria sooner or later.”

The grin on War’s face disappeared and he looked at the mare with sympathy. “Take your time. Perhaps make right whatever you can before you’re forced back into duty.” He stood up, turning to leave. “Remember, everything stands in balance. For the darkness, there is light. I believe you will be happy sometime.” His steps disappeared down the stairs outside. Nightmare didn’t see him leave.

“You believe I will find happiness,” she spoke to no one in particular. “Yet War lies.” She sighed deeply. “Perhaps I deserve a greater punishment for my sins.” Only an echo answered her in empty halls.

Orders and Demands II

The alignment of the stars was unusually orderly and tidy. Was it a mortal hand that had had part in their placement? Was it Luna who tinkered with them, or were they arranged in that manner when she came to this world?

Shouting from the castle interrupted Sorcerer’s thoughts. He swiftly teleported away, down the slopes of the mountain. There were still some buildings, although it was a far less populated area than the city of Canterlot itself.

He knelt down and moved his finger through the sand. At first a few circles, then a triangle and a pentagram in the middle of each circle, completed by a square that connected each of the circles’ centre.  A violent, bright red light shone from them as he fed them his magic. A dull humming filled the air as the smell of sulphur and electricity wafted through it.

The humming got louder and louder. Greater power coursed through the runes. Multiple cracks of electricity. A bright red lightning closed in a rune. It appeared to house the power to tear the world apart, or perhaps summon a demon from the deepest pits of tartarus. It all went out, a silence before the storm. The air became dense with tension.

Ding! Thespell was ready.

“Aha! Lovely!” The runes diminished and a red arrow pointing somewhere north showed itself. The arrow then faded and the spell was over. Sorcerer’s focus shifted to the environment. He was being watched. A pair of vigilant ears stuck out of a nearby bush.

The mage approached the bush with the least terrifying expression he could manage. Of course, the least terrifying expression he could manage was that of a mental ward patient, and it wasn’t a pacifying one.

A dark blue blur leapt out of the foliage in the opposite direction and sprinted away swiftly. Its advance was halted by a rogue tree which shook upon the impact, yet sustained no damage. After closer examination, Sorcerer decided that the pony also wasn’t permanently injured.

Could he leave that pony there? He didn’t believe a non-magical forest right near the capital of the country would have predators within. He took a piece of paper and a quill out of his robe, then wrote ‘I’m watching you’ on the piece of paper before slamming it on the pony’s forehead and fastening it with magic.

Sorcerer removed all traces of the runes on the ground and looked in the direction indicated by the glowing arrow. Far in the distance, a city of clouds floated in the air, liquid rainbow cascading down from it. With a snap of the mage’s fingers, black smoke enveloped him, turning his whole being into a dark cloud. He shot off into the horizon.

Land sped by far too fast for sightseeing. He finally spotted the castle hidden behind the frozen peaks. Gothic architecture, dark grey stone colouring and a powerful source of magic within. To put it in a few words – it was the perfect fortress.

Sorcerer pushed the old steel gates open and stepped inside. Unlit torches dotted the greater part of the walls. Corridors were lit by the light spilling in from the glass windows, some of which were broken, leaking cold air from the outside. Sorcerer trod the dim corridors with caution.

The mage reached the centre of the structure. Starlight and snow streamed in through the broken window in the roof, brightening the spacious hall slightly. An enormous crystal hung off the ceiling in the middle of the chamber on heavy metal chains that somehow didn’t yield to the passage of time like the rest of the building.

“Let’s see what secrets hide within you,” muttered Sorcerer and raised his hand into the air.

The crystal shone brighter and brighter as magic filled it with energy. It blinked white and rose into the air, alive once more. The torches on the walls lit the hall with a cold, blue fire.

Sorcerer closed his eyes and reached into the memory of the castle. To his surprise it was nearly empty, save for a single entry. Before his eyes appeared an exceptionally large dark brown stallion with greying mane and tail. Upon his head rested a crown and in his eyes shone dim resolve.

The mage retreated from the ethereal plane with the knowledge of this stallion’s last known location. It was quite nearby. He then made his way out of the castle, wasting no more time. He flew swiftly across the frozen peaks in the form of a dark cloud.

Sorcerer found himself at an entrance to underground ruins and tried to open the door. It didn’t budge. Ancient pieces of art and architecture? Why would I care? He blasted the door apart and walked in.

A quick searching spell revealed the traps within. Apparently the one who designed the corridor had a dark sense of humour. Mines and spikes dotted every inch of the walls and floor for about a mile forward. Talk about overkill. The mage sighed and began dismantling the first trap.

An hour or so of intense thinking, careful acting, and painstakingly complicated work allowed him to move slightly forward. The corridor was practically a piece of art. Each trap had an original design, caused pain in a different way and had a different code or lock.

Sorcerer looked behind to see his progress. How he wished these traps didn’t prevent teleporting.

He had made the enormous distance of twenty meters.

Sorcerer groaned in frustration before standing up and arching his back with a satisfying crack. He augmented his legs with magic and grinned.

“This is so not going to work.”

He then ran through the hall for his very life. Sounds of explosions, magical discharges, arrows, and spikes echoed right behind him. The light grew closer with every second and he reached it quickly, falling to his knees on a cold stone floor and panting heavily. Cold and dim light of magical crystals lit the hall he was now in.

“I never thought somepony, uh, someone would do that,” sounded an old voice from right beside Sorcerer. He turned his gaze in its direction to see an ashen-grey pony sitting next to him. The pony must’ve seen many winters; his mane and tail were slightly whiter than his coat and wings.

The mage looked at him flatly.“Where... is.... the king?” Sorcerer choked out between pants.

“The carcass? It’s that way.” The pony pointed at huge ornamental door right ahead of them. Sorcerer noticed two more doors to the right and to the left.

“The carcass?” The mage panted out before collapsing face first into the floor.

“Well, of course a carcass. How could something be alive after a few hundred years in an old ruin? In the middle of the Frozen North, no less,” asserted the stallion.

“Says something alive after a few hundred years in an old ruin in the middle of the frozen north, no less,” Sorcerer said bluntly upon standing up.

The stallion shrugged it off as if it were nothing.“I’ve made a promise,” he smiled slightly, “to a mare, you know. A wonderful one at that. I swore that I’ll wait for her even till’ the end of the world.” The stallion’s smile widened, his gaze fixed dreamily on something in the distance. He shook his head quickly. “But enough rambling. I’ll show you to the coffin.”

Sorcerer followed the strange pony through the hall, carefully choosing words to lessen the impact. “Don’t you think that the mare you’re waiting for might’ve perhaps forgotten about your meeting?” At the stallion’s confused stare he rephrased. “She abandoned you.”

The stallion smiled dismissively and shook his head before answering. “Of course not. She’s coming soon. I can sense it.” Was he a psychologist? Most certainly not, but that sounded like a certain case of denial to him. At least he had a guide.

They entered an even bigger room. In the middle of it stood an altar, its surface slightly stained by blood. The gods it was build for – forgotten. Light streamed in from an opening in the ceiling. Surprisingly, it was merely a magical mirror, showing the outside. What magic might’ve supported such spells for so long?

Lastly they passed into some kind of mortuary. Coffins filled the gaps along the walls. A deliberately cut stone grave stood at the far end of the corridor. The pony stopped at the entrance, perhaps afraid to wake up the dead. Sorcerer’s intentions were exactly opposite.

The grave at the end of the corridor stood out the most; its design intricate, its adornments expensive. Sorcerer raised the lid of the coffin and revealed the body of a king. Partially decomposed, with skin stretched and torn, clinging to the remains of bones and muscles, it somehow still held together.

“Those from under the sign of the Nightmare were trying to perform some sort of rite on him. They didn’t succeed, though, lacking the magic that you now have,” said the pony behind Sorcerer. The mage smirked, raising his hand and letting the swirls of dark smoke circle around it. He then lowered it right over the head of the king and knocked on his forehead twice.

“Knock, knock, wake up, my little pony. Time to conquer the world!” Dark swirls circled the king’s body as he rose into the air. His old heart started beating, pumping stale blood through blackened veins. At last, the king was lowered back to his coffin, letting silence reign for a moment. Then he opened his eyes.

Sorcerer stepped back. He knew what would happen. The king jumped out of the coffin, raising a rusty Maltese cross, presumably a religious symbol, trying to shield himself with it. “Step back, demon! By the power of Light, step back!” Sorcerer regarded the king with a flat stare.

“It would be pretty pointless to raise you from the dead just to kill you again, wouldn’t it? If you look closely at your body, you might notice some changes occurring, and how your body is different from those of other ponies. Don’t be afraid. These things are natural to ponies your age,” Sorcerer said, but upon seeing the king’s suspicious stare, he added, “I want to help you conquer the world. Today we have a special offer. Without the ‘sell your soul’ kind of deal.”

The king was less than convinced. “Why should I trust you? You come to my domain, claiming you’ve risen me from the dead and–“ He paused when Sorcerer showed him the coffins lining the walls and the one the king had been lying in mere seconds ago.

“Here lies Carolus Friedrich, king of The Neidenburgian Empire,” the mage read, tapping the headstone of the king’s grave. The stallion in question slumped to the ground, the fake, rusty crown falling with a clatter on the stone floor. The king turned to the mage with cold resolve in his eyes.

“What do you want? My time came years ago, and has passed now. Neidenburg has chosen a new king.” He sighed. “What year is it now?”

Sorcerer turned to the stallion standing in the doorway and looking at the pair with curiosity, if not pity. “About three hundred and thirty years have passed since you’ve been buried here, king,” he explained in a grave tone.

Carolus Friedrich, the former king of a country that had once been an empire, turned his gaze to the ground, yet no tears fell from his eyes. “What was the result of the war?” he asked, probably already suspecting the answer.

“The war was lost on the Neidenburgian side. An everlasting peace with Equestria was signed a few years later.”

Carolus stood up, turning to Sorcerer with cold resolve. “What can you provide me with?” he asked simply.

“I can get you an army, perhaps a steady economy. We’ll figure out something about the armaments...” Sorcerer tapped his chin in thought. The king raised a hoof as if to stop him from further explanations, then trod forward out of the chamber. The mage smirked in amusement at the gesture.

“That’s enough. Lead me to your abode, demon. We must unite the pony nations under one banner if we are to survive. If not through diplomacy, than through blood and fear.” Cold determination shone in his foggy eyes. He trod beside Sorcerer through the dimly lit halls.

When the mage noticed the stallion he had met earlier wasn’t following them, he turned around. “What do they call you, stranger?” he inquired of the elderly pony.

“Wind,” came the answer. Who might Wind have been before he enclosed himself within these halls? How he entered them without setting off the alarms? Perhaps he had been there before they were set up and had seen many more winters than it seemed.

The pair left the complex to be met with the raging winter outside. The highest peaks were covered in snow the whole year and the approaching winter didn’t help the matter. Sorcerer, having memorised the road well, raised his hand and allowed the teleport spell to arrange itself in the dark smoke circling the pair. A second later the smoke enveloped them fully and they were gone.

---

“To right the wrongs,” repeated Nightmare to herself, her form lying on the cold stone floor of the ruins in the Everfree. She settled her head on her hooves before closing her eyes and taking deeper, calmer breaths. What wrongs could be made right, she didn’t know.

Deeper and deeper she fell, through darkness, into greyness. Darker grey for the ground, lighter for the sky.The line of horizon was perfectly straight, unbroken by hills or forests. Nightmare stood in the middle, her body partially transparent in this ethereal land. She reached further. Before her appeared the tired, weak form of an alicorn.

Upon seeing Nightmare, Luna charged up her horn and shot a beam of raw magic that was easily blocked by a shield. The princess then fell to the ground, exhausted. “Is this really it?” asked Nightmare. “Only hatred will I get from you?”

Luna’s glare answered for her. “What do you desire? Compassion? I didn’t know demons are hungry for such emotions too.”

Nightmare stepped back, sighing heavily. Luna was somewhat right, she was a demon, a monster. “Tell me what you asked me to do when you allowed me to take over.” Nightmare’s voice was cold and deliberate.

“I was angry; your words had poisoned me!” Luna shouted desperately.

“Tell me what you asked me to do,” insisted Nightmare.

“I... I told you to... to hurt my sister. To... to make her understand what I felt.” Luna’s voice wavered and a few tears fell from her eyes.

“And I did what you asked me to. By sending us to the moon, she had to endure a thousand winters without you. At last she understood who you are and what you mean to her.” Nightmare’s voice wasn’t comforting, yet it lacked the cold and cynical quality it held earlier.

Luna withdrew her muzzle from her hooves. “You did. But what if you had actually succeeded? What if the world had crumbled under eternal night?”

Nightmare sat down, looking softly at Luna. “It wouldn’t. I knew Celestia had her Elements, but with my power, I could at least somewhat change what they’ve done. And then, when I returned... well, it was mere theatrics. It was somewhat amusing though.” She smirked at the thought of charging at a significantly smaller unicorn.

“Wait! You mean you wanted to be imprisoned?”

Luna’s surprise made Nightmare chuckle. “Time flows a bit differently when you have sworn an unending oath to evil. At first, I guess I found thrill in it. Then, I simply wanted for it all to end before I went insane. All I got were the few hilarious months spent watching you awkwardly struggle with the changed world.” For the first time, Nightmare saw something other than hatred in Luna’s eyes.

It disappeared a second later. “And yet you fed me lies before you took over my body. You made me hate my sister. How can I believe you?” Nightmare sighed at Luna’s glare. This time, the princess stood up, finding herself slightly higher than the sitting mare.

“I saw the world with your eyes, Luna. I saw an evil sister who wanted to steal all the glory for your work. I saw the unthankful subjects who never wanted to stay up late and admire the night. I was just as angry as you were and I was bound to serve evil sooner or later. I gave in to our hatred.” Nightmare shrunk slightly under Luna’s gaze, but as she spoke, she regained her confidence and unyielding posture.

“And what would you wish me to do?” asked Luna. “Forgive you? Admit you were right?”

Nightmare shook her head. “I want you to understand.” She sighed and charged up her horn. “Because you are not going to forgive me for what I will do.” Before Luna could answer, the spell fired and Nightmare left the grey plain.

The crackling runes on the cold stone floor amplified her scanning spells. Soon, she detected the greater source of distortions in a form of a castle far to the north, and set off in its direction.

The black wings tore the sky over Equestria. Would the ponies believe she came back? Perhaps... Although knowing Sorcerer’s stealth abilities, all of Equestria was on high alert. Nightmare imagined a haltered Celestia and the mage atop of her, waving the stirrups and trying to force her to gallop. She chuckled at the image.

Nightmare landed before the old castle, barely touched by time. She stepped through the rusty iron gates, wincing at their creaking as she opened them. On the courtyard waited Sorcerer. He had that damned sincere smile on his lips. “I’m glad to have you back.”

Nightmare passed by, not giving him another glance. “I came out of duty, not free will,” she replied sharply before continuing down the corridors. She had absolutely no idea of where she was going. Sorcerer didn’t have to know that though.

Sorcerer stepped before her and guided her to one of the living rooms. There sat a partially decomposed lich, surrounded by stacks of papers and maps. “This is Carolus. He wants to be the king of... well... everything, I guess.”

The lich turned around to see who the mage was speaking to. Nightmare made sure to show him all of her terrifying fangs in a welcoming smile. The lich shouted and jumped out of his armchair to cower behind it, sending all of the papers flying. “MEIN GOTT! WELCHEN DÄMON IST DAS?!”

Sorcerer looked with pity at the trembling king before turning back to Nightmare. “Yes, he does that. But he speaks English very well too.” He walked over to the lich, gently stroking his mane. “Don’t worry, Carolus, Nightmare is on our side. Besides, you’re far too rotten for her to eat.”

Sorcerer lifted the pony in his arms and seated him back on the armchair. His magic rearranged the stacks of papers swiftly. He patted the head of the king affectionately and left the room. Nightmare followed him rather reluctantly, but caught up soon enough.

Sorcerer stopped at one of the passages, light streaming from the windows, showing the snow outside. Thankfully there were no cracks for the cold to seep in through. “There are three of us, as of now. We’ll need more.” Sorcerer looked at Nightmare expectantly.

“So you are already assigning tasks. How well you have found yourself in leadership...” Nightmare remarked with a slight tinge of malice in her voice.

“Well, what can I say?” Sorcerer outstretched his arms with a grin. “I’m a born commander.” All Nightmare did was look at him flatly. The mage’s grin withered into a more rational smile. “Of course I’ll have you leading us, “commander,” or should I say “Generalfeldmarschall” Nightmare. Just like in the old days.” The mare in question nodded, a satisfied smirk adorning her features. “First, though, we need information. I suppose you know where to find it,” said Sorcerer.

“I suppose you are right. Time to pay poor Luna a visit. Do you have a bed or an armchair I can use?” Sorcerer nodded and led her to one of the more spacious royal bedrooms of the castle. The double bed inside still had quite well-preserved red curtains and a brick fireplace.

“Very strong conservation spells,” answered Sorcerer, seeing her curious stare.

He was surprisingly nice when he needed something. Nightmare settled on the bed, laying her head on a pillow. “This bed doesn’t have any lice, does it?”

The mage grinned. “Do you really want to know?”

Nightmare leapt out of the bed in a matter of seconds and flared her horn wildly in an insecticidal spell. Dark blue aura enveloped both the bed and her for a few brief seconds.

Sorcerer laughed genuinely at the situation, waiting until Nightmare settled on the bed again. He then pulled himself an armchair and settled on it, summoning a book to read. Nightmare sighed as she sank into the soft mattress and shot a tired glance at the mage. “I would rather not have you watch me sleep.”

Sorcerer grinned. “Want a bedtime story?” He raised the book slightly.

“You could...” A small smile lit up Nightmare’s features as she settled her head on the pillow and sighed, closing her eyes. Unbeknownst to her, Sorcerer grinned devilishly before opening the book and starting to read.

“’Psychotronics is an independent, interdisciplinary branch of knowledge that takes into consideration the forces working at a distance – interactions both between people themselves and between the world (both organic and nonorganic) and the people. Such interactions are connected with energetic forms of all highly organised matter...’” Sorcerer smiled upon hearing Nightmare snore once before falling completely asleep.

Sorcerer went to the castle’s kitchen to fetch a cup, or rather a bucket, of strong coffee. He was willing to sacrifice anything to not face Nightmare during a coffeeless morning. Perhaps he would need some too if he were to ensure her safe and tranquil sleep for the rest of the night.

Orders and Demands III

Yet again, Nightmare descended. Deeper into the blackness, until the horizon became dull grey. Lighter for the sky, darker for the ground. Nightmare willed for the land to shift, and in a second she was standing before the tired form of an alicorn. This time she was not met with an attack, but merely a forlorn stare. “Why are you here?” Luna asked weakly.

Nightmare sighed. “I need some of your memories.” Luna’s pupils shrank as she stood up and backed away from the mare before her. “Only the unpleasant ones, Luna. The ones filled with despair, where evil had won for a short time.”

Luna glared at Nightmare without the slightest effort to hide her hatred. “Do you truly believe that pesky, false sentiments would make me gaze upon you kindly? You are mistaken, demon. I won’t allow for any of the horrors of the past to come back.”

Nightmare sighed in understanding, yet the grim resolve never left her eyes. “Everything I told you is true, Luna. I regret things I’ve done. Unfortunately, I also have my duties. Duties I must execute, whether I want to or not.” Nightmare’s horn flared. “I can understand your will to fight, but the more you resist, the more it’ll hurt. I am certain I’ll overpower you in the end.”

Luna’s furious scowl turned into a frown, and her eyes were set on the ground. “I won’t fight. Do it quickly.” Luna’s eyes scrunched and her horn flickered in a last act of desperation, yet it dimmed just as quickly. Her strength would not allow for any fight to take place. Nightmare stepped next to the Princess, her horn burning with the dark blue fire.

A flash of light.

She stood at the Highest tower of the Canterlot Castle, Celestia standing beside her.

The fiery sphere of the sun descended beyond the horizon. It was time for her to take over.

Celestia remained silent, she didn’t notice her yet.

“You allowed the changelings to flee,” said Luna, the frown ever-present in her features.

The answer didn’t come immediately as Celestia’s train of thought had been interrupted. “Good evening to you too, sister.” She smiled when Luna rolled her eyes. “As to the changelings, we must give them a chance. They are an intelligent species, not unlike we are. I’d never stoop to chasing down and killing each and every one of them; it’d be inequine, barbaric.”

Luna was still far from convinced. “We should’ve given them the ultimatum: either unite with us, or fall. Now, they will gather their strength, exploit our weaknesses, and strike again.”

“Luna, we are stronger than we were a thousand years ago, and thus we should be the wiser. This is not how Equestria was brought to peace.” Celestia’s tone turned slightly harsher; she measured her sister with a stern look.

“But this is the way we shaped its borders. One day we’ll face the enemy we won’t be able to drive out of our country. What happens then?”

“Many things have changed since your... departure. We solve conflicts with diplomacy, not bloodshed.” Celestia walked out of the balcony without a word.

Luna stood in the same place, confused and angry. Even though her features expressed no emotions, a thousand thoughts roamed through her mind. She knew very well where the changelings were hiding. She couldn’t strike though. Not without losing her sister’s trust in the process.

Luna couldn’t see what her sister had on her mind. The changelings would come back, stronger than before. They would learn on their mistakes and strike again. Luna was afraid and helpless, and that angered her. She had become but a historical asset in this country. “You may leave now, sister,” she said.

The memory faded.

Luna’s legs shivered. Nightmare used her mane to support the Princess. She then eased her to the ground gently and lay down in front of her. “Whenever you feel like you’re too weak, tell me to stop.”

Luna looked at her with determination in her eyes. She’d had her hoof in the destruction of everything she loved. She had no choice. “I would tell you to stop and never come back, but you would have to do it eventually, wouldn’t you?” Nightmare nodded silently. “Start the spell and be done with it. The sooner, the better.”

Nightmare lit her horn yet again.

A flash of light.

Luna trod the castle’s corridor. There was a possibility, a dreadful cold creeping up her spine, telling her she was being watched.

There something in a dark corner. Her gaze swept over the corridor. Behind a door, perhaps?

A dark, mocking laugh resonated across the corridor. She quickly struck a nearby lamp with her magic, leaving but smithereens.

“Boo! Nopony likes you.”

Luna sighed in frustration and resumed her trotting.

“Boo! Nopony listens to the music you like!”

Her horn was charging up with the faintest of sparks, unnoticeable to the keenest of observers.

“Boo! Nopony reads your fanfics!”

A bolt of lightning struck a nearby vase of flowers; neither the flowers nor the vase were the same ever again.

Discord decided to reveal himself just then and materialised from an armchair, the same one that had been following Luna for quite some time. She cursed herself mentally for not noticing. “Oh, you know, dear Luna, that I wasn’t serious,” Discord said. “I was simply practising my bullying skills.”

The mare’s flared horn and deep scowl answered for her.

“I’ve got the impression you’re in a foul mood today, and not only because of my behaviour. Thankfully I, Discord, the good friend that I am, have arrived in time to lift your mood. What ails you?”

Luna raised her eyebrow in disbelief. The scowl, however, turned slowly into a tired frown. “The stars are strangely aligned. I suppose you had something to do with it.”

Discord crossed his forelimbs over his chest, utter horror radiating from his features. “Me?” he asked. “How could you believe I have something to do with your stars’ misalignment! Do you think they’d ever listen to me? They’re just like you. Whatever wrong happens, they always blame me.”

Luna sighed. “Of course you didn’t do it.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Something strange is happening. I don’t yet know what, but I will.”

Discord grinned. “Perhaps it’ll help you that your sister sent me on a special, secret mission, without uttering a single word to you about it.”

Luna’s ears perked up. “I’m going to guess she sent you five minutes ago and is now on her way to tell me why. Now go, before I throw you out myself.”

Discord put on a soldier’s helmet, saluted, and puffed out of existence.

The memory faded.

“I can’t believe you’ve freed the draconequus.”  Nightmare chuckled quietly at the complications of Celestia’s actions.

“He was ‘reformed’,” stated Luna sarcastically, as if even she didn’t fully trust the judgement of her sister in that matter. Luna scratched her chin, still eyeing Nightmare warily. “Are you truly evil?” she asked. “Can’t you and Sorcerer be reformed?”

Nightmare took a deep breath and looked Luna straight in the eye before answering. “I’ve done, and will do, many evil things. Do not be misguided by my respect toward you. If I met Celestia now, hopefully stars would be kind to her, for I wouldn’t show mercy.” Before Luna could answer, Nightmare charged her horn yet again.

A flash of light.

“Sister, are you sure this is the right thing to do?”

“Are there any other options left? We’ve already sent him notices, enforced sanctions, did our best without using violence. The time has come for direct action.”

“By the Night, I’d never have believed you would say that.” Luna smiled to her sister. It was important to keep the mood at least a bit more optimistic, considering what they were going to do.

The soldiers accompanying them trotted a small distance behind them. They weren’t meant to fight, but rather to ensure everything went well enough, and that Sombra would yield on his own accord. Facing the powerful menace with mortal magic sounded hopeless enough.

They had approached the castle gates, and were noticed by the guards. The armoured crystal ponies lowered their spears at them, but stood still. Their weaponry shone in the sun sharp and deadly; a warning to those who wish to stand against them.

“WE WISH TO SEE THE KING OF THIS EMPIRE.” The guards trembled before the thundering roar. Their king would arrive soon.

Soon, a black cloud appeared on the gate’s walls and formed itself into a pony, or at least a form resembling a pony. From afar he looked strange, twisted by evil. His bent, reddish horn, armour-clad body, and steel crown explained easily the terrified, aghast looks of refugees she had seen fleeing from his country.

“SPEAK WITH US ON EQUAL TERMS,” spoke Luna.

Sombra obliged confidently, and descended in a black cloud, reforming right before them. “I do not fear you,” Sombra said malevolently.

Your confidence will kill you, then, thought Luna.

“Our goal is not to instil fear in you. We’ve come to offer you an ultimatum. You must free the subjects of your empire, and give them the proper living conditions,” Celestia said.

Not for the first time, Luna was proud of her sister as the older mare stood defiant of the situation, and without faltering gazed into the eyes of the about-to-be-former King. Still, her hooves were planted firmly on the ground; contrary to Luna who yearned to bury them forcefully in the foul black fur.

“What will you do if I don’t comply?”

Celestia glared at him, her horn flickering with the dimmest, quickest of sparks, but Luna beat her to an answer. “Yield, or we will make you yield.” By the time she’d said that, her tail had already made a set of gestures, informing soldiers of their orders. They stood back and raised their magical shields.

Sombra teleported back inside the castle gates, but the Princesses were already in the air. They flew over the guards before they could take any action. Sombra ran through the streets of his empire fast, as if the Devil himself was chasing him, but Luna almost felt his weariness.

Celestia was running right beside her. Luna quickly formed a mental link between them. Sombra teleported in a desperate attempt to escape. Luna smirked merely, her horn flickered and she quickly followed the magical trail of the King. His attempts were vain.

Celestia appeared right beside her a second later, and the pair was gaining on their escapee once again. Sombra’s steps were growing weary each second. He stumbled and fell.

Although he were a king, Luna didn’t give the pitiful excuse for a pony a chance to rise. She quickly shot a paralyzing spell, causing Sombra to fall to the ground limply. Celestia reached her and stared at him in shock. Luna’s determined, yet supportive gaze allowed her sister to recover. “No doubt, not now,” she said.

Glow of the Elements, of their bearer’s eyes.

A rainbow striking the mad king.

An overwhelming flash of light.

The world slowing down to a crawl as it all happened almost at once.

Yet when Luna’s eyes lost their glow, she saw the empty plain they were standing on.

An old failsafe spell, she was informed later, had banished the subjects with their king. The sudden silence and single flakes of snow falling from the sky could not alleviate Luna’s guilt.

The memory faded.

“He came back after a thousand years, didn’t he?” asked Nightmare. Luna nodded weakly. “And he was banished yet again.”

This time, Luna shook her head. “He was torn to pieces by the power of the Crystal Heart. If you believe our measures with you or Discord were cruel, you should’ve seen what happened to Sombra.”

Nightmare winced silently. “It was a pleasure visiting you, Luna.” Sooner or later, Luna would realise whom and in what she had helped. Nightmare didn’t wish to be beside her at that time.

With a flicker of her horn, Nightmare quickly left the ethereal plane. The only sound that reached her was the quiet sobbing of the Lunar Princess. She blocked it out quickly to spare her mind and tattered heart.

Nightmare awoke.

It was very early morning. She noticed Sorcerer lying in his armchair, the book he was reading placed on his lap, open. He stirred awake and turned his slightly vacant gaze in her direction. “I had a spell set to wake me up in case something started happening. How’d it go?”

Nightmare silently congratulated him on waking up so sober. She needed a coffee, or two. Possibly five. “Well enough. We have work to do.”

Sorcerer levitated a bucket of hot black liquid which Nightmare eyed hungrily. “Is this what I think it is?” The mage nodded. Nightmare lowered her head into the bucket and drank hungrily. She stopped after hearing quiet, muffled snickers from above her. She raised her head from the bucket and asked in a heavily weary voice, “This is a horse joke, isn’t it?”

Sorcerer burst out laughing and almost fell off his chair. “No, it isn’t a horse joke. I was simply amused by the amount of coffee you drink. It seems like you’re much better at coming up with jokes than me.” Nightmare rolled her eyes before lowering her head into the bucket once again and drinking the hot liquid. “We should visit ‘our king’ as soon as he wakes up to know what plans he had come up with.”

“You had him making the war plans?” Nightmare asked in a disbelieving, uncivil tone.

Sorcerer nodded. “Around three hundred years ago he was the king of a kingdom north of Equestria. He armed it and sent its forces south, taking over the better part of the country and forcing Celestia to evacuate her sorry posterior from Canterlot. That’s why he is making the war plans,” Sorcerer explained.

“What about the army?” Nightmare asked, not pulling her head out of the bucket. Sorcerer grinned at the gesture.

“His soldiers had made the Life and Death Oath. Somehow he had them recite the exact words of ancient spells that would bind them to him even after death.”

Nightmare paused, pulling her head out of the bucket and looking at Sorcerer, surprised. A few drops of coffee still dripped from her muzzle and with a quick spell, she dried and cleaned it. “Our King hides many mysteries. Do you think there had been some third party involved?”

Sorcerer shrugged. “I’ve got no idea, but it seems so. Nevertheless, the King knows nothing.”

Nightmare moved away from the bucket, and rubbed her forelegs against each other uncertainly. “It seems like we’re getting into something much greater than just ourselves.”

Sorcerer nodded grimly. “We’ve already been in something much greater than ourselves. What we’re getting into now, though, is still quite a huge mystery. Hopefully we’ll prevail.”

Nightmare nodded too, hope still shining in her eyes. “Well, either us, or whatever dark god plays the game. Equestria is doomed.”

Sorcerer chuckled. Nightmare didn’t reciprocate the gesture, still unsure of the future. “Well, Nightmare, do you recall how we named our every operation in the past?”

Nightmare rolled her eyes. “It was a childish tradition, Sorcerer.”

The mage smirked. “Childish, but a tradition nonetheless. What season is it?”

Nightmare sighed before replying. “End of autumn, winter is approaching soon enough.”

The mage nodded, a confident smirk upon his features. “The Dawn of Winter it is then.”