Sand on the Doorstep

Chapters

Ashes and Defeat
Green Memories
Return of Chaos
Feathers and Fire
Awakening
The Eye Opens (Part 1)
The Eye Opens (Part 2)
Out of the Fire...
As the Sun Sets
As the Moon Rises
Words in the Dark
Servants of the Prim
Discordia Rising

Ashes and Defeat

Who can say how long it had been, how far they had gone, or how many lifetimes had been spent in this endless dance of theirs. How many lives had they touched? How many histories had they effected? How many worlds had they crossed? I doubt anyone could answer that truthfully, these two don't even know for sure themselves. Long and long again this chase has gone on for; few know how it started, fewer still know how it's progressed. All we really know for sure is that

"The man in black fled across the desert... And the Gunslinger followed."

Sand on the Doorstep

A work of fiction, say thankya...

The sun beat down as hard as ever, a fiery fist crushing all that lay beneath it in its torrent of life-bringing heat. The ground is hard and wind-worn, the strewn with desert sand. A harsh land, at home in a harsher world. A world which has moved on.

There is no life here; this desert is a place of death and hunger and despair. No living things come here with thoughts of survival in their minds. And no sane person would voluntarily venture into such a bright and lifeless abyss. Yet still he carries on all the same.

See him now, I beg you. See him for what he truly is, just once before our story begins. A wanderer, gaunt and grim, tall and dark, but with a certain handsomeness about him that betrays the face he may have had once, in a different time, and a different world. Upon his head is a hat, Brown and brimmed, and upon his back is fate of all the worlds that ever were and ever will be. He wears a leather vest over a simple cotton shirt. A duster may have covered him once, but it was tossed aside when the sun threatened to defeat him. A bound horn hangs from a makeshift band around his neck, a reminder of a friend long dead and a home long gone. A pair of long feathers hang from the leather cord that holds the horn, one of pure white and one as black as jet. Across his chest a pair of bandoliers hang, one from each shoulder. And about on his hips rest two massive revolvers with sandal-wood grips. He is a knight, anointed and blessed, worn and torn, wearily making the pilgrimage that he, and he alone, was destined to complete.

And so on he walks, undeterred by the life-ending rays baring down upon him. He walks at a steady pace, a water-skin in one hand which he sparingly takes sips from every mile or so. Another is bound about his waist, and six more are tied to the saddle of the horse that walks beside him. A strong and loyal companion, the noble stead is now little more than a kit-barer, carrying what little food and water the two have left. Rusher is his name, though whether the name was always his or if the Gunslinger gave it to him in memory of another has long since been lost to the fog of the past. This world has moved on, and would not do to dwell on what has been left behind.

An outcrop of wind-swept rocks appears in ahead of the two travelers. The remains of what was once a great mountain, eaten away by the sand-filled gusts of the desert. It is here that the Gunslinger has tracked his quarry to, following little more than a trail of burnt-out campfires left behind by someone who clearly knew he was being chased and meant to toy with his hunter. The last fire had burned down into the shape of letters, leaving a scorched "Turn Back" on the desert floor after the ashes had scattered to the wind. That man, if he could be called that, was a wizard of the worst imaginable kind. A monster with a sense of humor and a death wish for the entirety of existence. Still, if he could survive this foray into the desert, then how could the Gunslinger turn tail and flee back to civilization?

They took shelter in the stony fortress of the outcrop; a disturbing mound of twisted stone spires, each one the bright color of a burning ember. Yet within the confines of that natural fortress it was cool and the wind could not touch the Gunslinger and his mount. So it was here that they settled, around the smoldering remnants of yet another of the sorcerer's fires.

The Gunslinger placed himself against a smooth stone wall and slowly slid to a seated position. He surveyed his surroundings, his eyes red and swollen from the desert air. The small valley they were in was really little more than a cave without a ceiling. Overhead the spires loomed, stabbing at the sky like the turrets of some great castle. He thought to himself of the Tower, it was something which seemed to find its way into his mind no matter what he was thinking about. He gazed at the spires, thinking how similar they seemed to those of the mythical structure he had spent so long seeking. As he looked at them the sun began to shrink behind a particularly thick cloud of dust blew over the open ceiling of the valley. Black spires, dark as pitch and terrible to behold, yet somehow beautiful as well. Could it be that this was the place he was meant to find, that this was the Dark Tower after all? How beautiful those spires seemed now that the possibility that his long journey might finally be at its end.

And then, from out of no where, the sun shone through clearer and brighter than before and the spires turned a brilliant shade of white. Color flooded into the peaks of each of the stone needles, a golden hue that spoke of royalty. The pennants flying from their points were whipping soundlessly in the wind, Pink and white crested with the same gold as the towers themselves. A strange device graced their centers, too high and too distorted by the waving motion to be seen clearly. A fanfare blew in the distance. For the celebration. The victory celebration must be starting. I must to hurry or I'll be late. They would think me ungrateful and poorly raised if I were to-

He slammed his eyelids down, providing his retinas with much needed relief from the dry desert air and the blazing sun's glare. When he opened them, the spires were nothing but red stone once more. No pennants flapped on their zeniths, no banners hung from there shafts. This was not the Dark Tower. It was not the Royal Palace. It was nothing but an old decaying mountain, in a world that had moved on. And yet for a moment I could have sworn it was...

"Its the thirst, you haven't drank nearly enough and now your seeing things," the voice said from behind him. Lightning quick, Roland Deschain was on his feet. He spun around, ripping the guns from their holsters, only to come face to face with the wall he had been propped against. "And hearing things too, it would seem," the voice tittered. It was an evil voice, charming and sweet to hear, but so full of venom and malice that one could fall the man's very words were he not careful enough. Slowly, the Gunslinger turned toward the dying corpse of the campfire. There, in the embers, he saw what he had prayed he wouldn't. Two eyes were watching him from within two smoldering brands. A sudden flash burst forth from the middle of the fire, startling Rusher and reigniting the fire in its entirety

A pale man, hooded and cloaked, stared back at Roland through the ghostly glow of the flames. "Of course I suppose it could also just be the fumes coming off the fire thats causing your senses to betray you. Thats what happens when you burn devil grass, you know." He pointed down toward the base of the flames, and Roland saw a quick flash of purple beneath the pale fire. His head felt dizzy, his eyelids heavy, he sat back down against the wall. He let his hands slide off of his guns, just enough to take another swig of water and then dump the rest of its contents over his face. He blinked several times, clearing his vision once more. When he looked at the campfire again it was no longer looking back at him.

The fire had died back to nothing but a few smoldering embers, but in the midsts of them he could make out something else. It was a small, metallic object, one that was instantly familiar to his eyes. A bullet casing, spent when the flash had gone off which startled his horse. Another one of Walter's tricks. More of his encouragement to turn back no doubt. But did that really just happen? Was he really there or is it just the devil grass playing with my senses?

No one answered his thoughts this time. He allowed himself to drift, thoughts of the past spinning through his head in a torrent of half-forgotten memories. Some were his, he knew, but not all of them. How many of these visions were true and how many were false, he could not say. Still, they swarmed through his head all the same, a storm of bullets, blood, fire, shadows, and regret. These were the memories which haunted him the most, the ones that seemed the strangest, yet the only ones which he could say for certain were his. So much pain, too much for any one man to bare. That was not his voice and it was not his thought, yet sounded true enough all the same. How much easier it would be for everyone if you were to just end it all here and now, reject this foolish quest and be free of the pain once and for all. He knew such thoughts were blasphemy, yet he listened all the same. His hand went to the ground by his side, found his gun, and lifted it. Lifted it to his head and with a single smooth motion cocked the hammer back, evened off the barrel and-

Green Memories

Roland jolted back upright. His head was spinning, his gun was in hand. He had fallen over, he realized. He must have lost himself in the damned glow of the devil grass smoldering in the embers. He replaced his guns in their holsters, thought for a moment, and then undid his gun belt. He rose stiffly, dragging himself to his feet and made his way over to Rusher. The horse had been grazing on something dry and green that was growing in the shaded portions of the cave, and continued to graze as Roland fumbled with the saddle bags. He wrapped the guns in a grey cloth and placed them at the top of the bag, ensuring that they would be far out of his reach should the voice of the desert reach out to him again. He took one last drink of water and returned to his wall.

With his preparations complete, the Gunslinger turned his gaze directly toward the fire. With the lack of wind within the cave itself the small tendrils of smoke rising from it climbed straight up, sparing him their poisonous aroma. As he watched the coals burn the visions began once more. They came suddenly and relentlessly, the visions of all of his past failures, too many to count. And it is here that our story truly begins, with our first glimpse into one of these tales best left untold. Whether it is a true memory or not I will leave entirely up to you, but you should know now that it is not the only one like it. Two other tales lie buried in the vault that is his mind, yet neither left as deep a wound upon his heart and soul as this. And so now let us join this battered knight as he ventures once more into that most unforgiving of battlefields: his memory. Let us sit with him and share his fire, for this tale is to be told, it'd be best if we tell it together, lest one of us may give in to that tempting offer by that whore of a desert before the end of it after all.

He looked deep into the coals, letting the memories of what he considered to be his greatest failures wash over him. Allowing these thoughts to harden his heart, to take away the pain and the doubt and to fuel the unending thirst for redemption. And so the memories continued to spin through his mind, whipping through his consciousness and battering his very soul. Finally his will faltered, he blinked at the dying flames, sighed, and fell to one side with his arm just barely intercepting his head before it hit the ground. As he surrendered to sleep and let the dream pull him down.

* * * * *

The first thing he noticed was how green the world around him was. He had been wandering the deepest reaches of an unloving desert for weeks before he came upon the pillar. The fact that he was now surrounded by lush green grass, thick undergrowth, and trees of all shapes and sizes came as nothing short of a legitimate shock to him. It was such a dramatic and welcomed change that, for several minutes, the Gunslinger simply laid there, his face buried in bright green foliage. Finally, he rose, getting to feet slowly and taking in his surroundings in their entirety.

It was still before noon and the morning sun was blanketing the forest with a warm, peaceful glow. The plants were basking in the rays, growing tall and wild beneath the trees that covered them. Birds could be heard singing from the branches, and small animals could be seen sparingly through the bushes. Behind where the Gunslinger stood, a massive door was swung open, its hinges mounted upon thin air, its base buried in the ground. The grass in front of it had died the instant it had opened, withering before the heat of the desert just beyond its frame. The ground closest to the door was even now being covered by a thick layer of sand, propelled through the open gateway by the fierce winds Roland had had at his back when he left Mid-World.

And it is the door which now commands his gaze, for he has seen it many times before now, yet not once does the sight of such a bizarre object cease to amaze those who look upon it. Beyond its border the bleak and cruel desert still burns, its sand-laden winds gusting in every direction at once. An unforgiving world it is which he has just left, a shattered world which is breaking more and more as time turns onward. Yet here he finds himself, once again a visiter in a land which is not only still whole, but still young in terms of what has transpired within it. Of course there had been war and bloodshed and chaos here at one time, he knew that first-hand. But that war had spelt the end of a dark and terrible era, the likes of which this world would almost certainly never see again. Where Mid-World's history was wrought in blood and lead, this world knew would not need to concern itself with such things for thousands of years.

The Gunslinger took a step away from the door, and found himself falling once more to the soft, sweet-smelling ground. The grass cushioned his fall, but did not take the sting out of the wound his pride had just suffered. Regardless of having been to this world once before, no amount of experience can prepare a person for the shift in motor skills that comes from suddenly having two extra legs, and two fewer arms. He had had this same problem last time, spending nearly a full day simply trying to get his limbs to obey him properly again.

He stood up once more, his hooves firmly planted in the tall green grass. He shook his head violently, throwing off the bits of plant-life which had clung to his face. His brown and grey mane whipped back and forth, now free of the hat he had been wearing before that last fall. He picked it up with his teeth, brought his head up, and then realized he would have to use his hooves to actually get it back on his head. Why here? Why this world? Walter could have fled to anywhere with that door, so why here?

The Gunslinger answered his own question by falling a third time as he was reaching up to replace his hat. Walter was a sadistic, self-loving, cowardly demon of a man, but he was no fool. Roland may very well have been the most formidable tracker that Mid-World had to offer, but all of his skills would be useless if all he could do was crawl after his prey. Meanwhile Walter O'Dim, a master shapeshifter in his own right, would surely have no trouble gaining a significant head-start on him.

It was that thought alone, the idea of Walter chuckling to himself as he galloped headlong toward whatever havoc he meant to wreak in this world, that brought Roland of Gilead to his hooves once more. And this time he stayed on them. Grabbing his hat in his teeth once more, he flipped it in the air, caught in on his head, and was off. A slow, plodding walk at first, but that quickly grew into a confidently-paced canter. The noon-time sun shone down bright and undisturbed in the clear blue sky, as the stallion in black fled across the countryside... and the Gunslinger followed.

Return of Chaos

Hello Equestria. Did you miss me? The sun had nearly set as a pale grey unicorn in a black cloak made his way out of the forest. Because I've missed you. Black was his hood and black was his soul, twisted and corrupted by powers too ancient and unspeakable for words. He was a bringer of turmoil and despair, a beacon of hate and revilement. Many are the worlds across which he has sown the seeds of discord, but it was this one which had left the greatest impact on him. His defeat at the hooves of such unlikely creatures as these had left him desperate for revenge.

The first time he had ventured to this world he had been pleasantly surprised by what he found. A simple place, controlled by a monarchy of sorts. Monarchies were generally the perfect place to sow chaos, usually with gestures as simple as whispering in the king or queen's ear. Walter had had quite a bit of experience with that sort of thing, having had a hand in the fall of countless kingdoms throughout a myriad of worlds. Yet not a single one of those had been anything like what he had found here. When he had first entered this realm he found that it was already ripe with chaos; all of which stemmed from the very being which ruled over it as its king.

Those had been good days. At first the creature upon the throne had been hesitant to speak with some strange, red earth pony who came before him, hooded and cloaked and completely unafraid. But Walter o'Dim was not one to be turned away, gaining the trust of those with power had always been one of his greatest skills. When the monster realized that this stranger in black was unaffected by his magic, his quickly became curious of how such a creature had come to stand before him. And it was in that moment that the high lord of discord and anarchy took on the advisor who would serve him for the remainder of his reign, right up to the day that he was cast down from his throne. And it was in that moment, when his temporary master was turned to stone, that Walter found himself hurtling out of this colorful, young world. The door he had used to enter was locked to him forever and his attempt to seize one of the most powerful artifacts in all the realms ended in failure.

Yet here he stood once more; with a new body, a new doorway, and a new monarchy to toy with. His mission remained the same, for the failure of that first venture into Equestria had troubled his mind constantly since his banishment. The thought of failing his master, or more accurately the fear of what would become of him should he fail again, was something that haunted him every waking moment. And the dreams only made it worse. Images of the horrors and tortures which awaited him in his true King's realm. No, he could not fail this time. The Lime would be his, and nothing was going to stop him from returning it to its rightful place in La Casse Roi Russe.

But why stop there? Why simply claim the ball and leave well-enough alone? There was a grand kingdom spread out before him just waiting to be turned inside out. Discord may have taken his final bow, but the new ruler was sure to be far more fun to control anyway. There had never been any challenge in dealing with that amalgamation of discarded animal bits, he was chaos incarnate and was always open to suggestions for new ways to torment reason. But whoever had taken his place would undoubtedly be less inclined to such anarchistic, self-destructive tendencies. And lets face it, any good ruler needs a councilor or two.

The unicorn made his way out of the shadow of the trees, taking in the world around him with a seemingly heart-felt respect. His horn began to glow, a deep red light which distorted the air around it. The color of his cruel, jesting eyes; the color of fresh-spilled blood. A moment later the light was gone and so was he, rushing off over hills covered by twilight. The moon was rising, nearly full and exceedingly beautiful, it filled the crested the hills just as the cloaked stallion did. And as his laughter bounced echoed through the surrounding valleys, it was the moon who first bore witness to the beginning of the a new age of discord. The laughing creature was merely the prod which would start things off. He was the gust which would tear the banner. And he was the spark which would ignite all of Equestria. So as the moon rose into the night sky, only to be choked out by the smoke from a burning tree at the edge of the forest, perhaps we may see what is in store for the rest of the world in what we are witnessing here.

Feathers and Fire

It was nearly midnight before he saw the flames, but the scent of smoke and burning foliage had been heavy on the air for hours already. As the Gunslinger moved through the forest he noticed more and more wildlife fleeing in the opposite direction. Squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, foxes, deer; all of the lesser beasts moving swiftly away from what he could only assume must have been a raging inferno. It was not until he glimpsed the flames themselves, however, that he realized the full extent of the fire's ferocity.

Nearly a mile from the forest's edge Roland finally came face-to-face with an impenetrable wall of blood-red flames. Thick black smoke rose off of fiery columns stretching more than forty feet into the air. The tops of the flames took on the shapes of dragons and serpents, clawing and snapping at the midnight sky from beneath their thick blanket of ash-ridden smoke. The spent ire scene was wholly unnatural and terrifying to behold, yet the gunslinger stood his ground.

With hooves planted firmly in the forest grass, Roland prepared to make his stand against approaching holocaust. Whatever this devilry is, there's no doubt Walter is behind it. Behind it and beyond it; so I have no choice but to press on. He wasn't sure what to expect, but he had faced countless trials of this nature before, surely something would come to him, some lost bit of knowledge that had saved him before. He stood there, staring at the flames, watching their movement as they slowly advanced toward him, the wall of crimson fire bending around his clearing in an attempt to surround him. Finally, after several minutes of analyzing the movement of the sentient flames, the Gunslinger came to a realization. The flames we impenetrable.

All of his previous encounters with Walter had left him battered and bruised, but there had always been a sense of playfulness about his attempts upon Roland's life. Rarely had he ever presented a challenge that was not simply meant to test the Gunslinger or dissuade him from pursuing. The wizard had always seemed to be taunting him to follow, his actions had always been meant to threaten Roland's sanity rather than his life. This was entirely different. Walter had clearly decided that, whatever it was that he was trying to accomplish in this world would be completed far more easily without the Gunslinger on his tail.

The fire was approaching faster now, closing off his only possible escape route. There were no flaws in the wall of flames, no points that could be exploited or areas that appeared any thinner than the rest. Roland, you fool, how could you have let your guard slip so far?

The voice was one he had heard endlessly all his life, and it seemed that even now his fat old teacher was standing beside him, just waiting to strike him for his incompetence. Did ya really believe that thrice-damned sorcerer would spend all this time baiting you along just so you could get some exercise? So you could see the world? He wants you dead, boy! Open yer damned eyes and look a' what ye've let yaself walk into. Are ya just trying ta shame me now? Ya just trying to forget your father's face? Cause if thats your aim I'd say your shooting pretty damned straight here and now. Might as well have gone ahead and pissed on his grave while ya were at it, least then ye'd have shone ya were committed ta this course.

The flames were drawing closer as Cort yammered on about the stupidity of the boy Roland had once been. How pathetic he was, how helpless, how useless. Well then I suppose theres nothin' left fa' ya ta do bu' burn. So go on, get to it! Though, truth be told, ye'll prolly just fuck that'n up 'swell, won'tcha? Ye'll jus leave yaself burnt an' crispy an' even more helpless than yar now. And then how ya eva gonna see that precious Tower uh yer's? The old man laughed at that notion, laughed long and deep. And in that moment, as the voice echoed through the Gunslinger's head, it was no longer Cort he heard laughing, but Walter. Walter, cackling madly at the idea of Roland burnt but alive, left to writhe and die slowly in the remnants of a once-lovely forest. A forest which surely would only be the first of many wonderful and peaceful parts of this world which the wizard would put to the torch. And the Tower. That was what drove him to finally break his trance, freeing him from the spell of the flames' dance. Whether he lived or died here made little difference, he was not about to forsake the Tower.

"So shut up..."

In one fluid motion Roland rose upon his back legs, brought his front down to the belts at his waist, and freed his father's revolvers from their holsters. His next motion was meant to bring them up to his chest and loose a pair of bullets into the fiery torrent before him. He did not know what it would accomplish, if it did in fact accomplish anything at all, but he had to do something. He refused to bow to Walter's magic without at least attempting to fight back. He would fire round after round into the swirling red inferno until his bandoliers were empty, the flames took him, and judgement was passed. He would go down fighting, die with his boots on. He would fall as his friends had back at Jericho Hill, denying their foes any easy kills. He would die a gunslinger... Or he would have, had he been able to keep a grip on the revolvers...

Even without fingers Roland had somehow ben able to pull the guns from their sheaths, yet there was no way for him to physically pull the triggers. A flood of memories form his first experience with this world suddenly washed over him. Feelings of helplessness and hopelessness from the first time that he realized his guns would be of no use to him mingled with those he felt now. Almost as soon as they were out of the holsters the two big guns slid from Roland's hooves, smacking the ground with a cushioned THUD about a foot away from where he stood awkwardly on his hind legs. Settling back to all fours, he suddenly became aware of how hot it had was in this ring of fire he had planted himself in. The air was growing thinner, his breaths became quick and strained. He looked at the fire once more, then at the guns that lay before him. He had failed after all, his glorious final stand denied by the cruel truths of this world he had found himself in. He WAS helpless, his situation WAS hopeless. He had forgotten his training and the face of his father. He had been broken by the will of this wizard from his past. Water began to run down his long, defeated face. But there were no tears left in him, and certainly none that he could have shed for himself. No one would cry for the loss of this knight of old, this gunslinger out of Gilead. There were no tears that man or beast could spare for such a pathetic creature as this. So nature played its part instead.

There, above the pillar of fire that was to be his tomb, the sky began to weep...

Awakening

The first thing Roland was aware of when he awoke was how bright his surrounding were. The last thing he remembered was bring entombed in a raging cylinder of blood-red flames; and while they had burned as hot as the ovens of Hell itself, they seemed to drink in the light rather than give it off. He had somehow emerged from that dim nightmare into what had all the makings of a pleasant dream.

He was once more laying upon the soft, life-filled grass that painted everything it covered a glorious shade of green. There were birds singing, frogs calling to one another, and far off in the distance a hawk was letting loose a resounding screech. And the light, oh that magnificent sunlight! In the wake of the inferno's gloom it was the most welcomed thing the Gunslinger could have hoped to see. It was not until he heard the nearby beat of feathered wings on the wind that the thought finally occurred to him. Walter's fire did for me after all... My journey has ended, and Gan has seen fit to grant me a place in paradise after all. Even now the angels come to lead me to him, my soul be saved.

Yet I think you know as well as I do that it was not Heaven that awaited the Gunslinger here, and that those wings were not those of the angels he was hoping for.

A moment passed before his vision finally cleared enough to be able to make out the shapes moving toward him from the sky. Five, no, six winged horses were descending to his resting spot, flying away from what he registered as being the charred remains of the forest he had first entered this world through. In reality, only a small portion of the woods had burned, with the fire being extinguished well before even a tenth of the trees felt the heat. Still, the damage that had been done left an unsightly scar upon the otherwise-beautiful landscape.

The Gunslinger did his best to stand, but it felt as though every muscle in his body had abandoned him him his sleep. So he lay there in the grass, awaiting the group of pegasi that were quickly making their way toward him. He could hear their wings beating upon the morning breeze, carrying them effortlessly to where he lay. What I wouldn't give for a pair of wings like those. I could soar right over any more obstacles I may face between here and the Tower. The thought was a sweet one, but little more than an empty wish made by a man who was quickly starting to realize that he was reaching his limits.

They arrived on the ground a few minutes later, the six ponies forming a circle around him and looking down with worried, and somewhat puzzled, faces. The one directly in front of Roland knelt down on his forelegs so that he was face to face with the Gunslinger. He looked at outsider for some time before finally asking "Can you speak, sir?"

At first, Roland was taken aback by the question. Does he take me for a fool? Of course I know how to speak. However, when he attempted to relay this sentiment to his winged inquisitor, all he was able to do was cough. It was a long, heavy, breathless wheeze which sent his entire body into a brief spasm. The pegasus backed up a step and then looked to his companions. "Thats what I was afraid of, this fella's breathed in far to much smoke. We need to get 'im some medical attention."

A red pegasus to Roland's right was the next to speak up. "I'll bring him back to town," she said, "if someone else feels like helping me carry him."

The first pony nodded toward one of the three behind outside of the Gunslinger's vision. "Nimbus, that'd be you. The rest of us got a bit more work to do on that there fire. The flames may be out, but the last thing we need's a single ember startin' the whole thing up again." He looked down at Roland once more. "Listen fella, I know ya can't tell us what happened just yet, but I need to know 'fore I send ya off on your way... You have something to do with this fire? You start the damn thing?" Roland opened his mouth to respond and once again fell victim to another coughing fit. "Just nod ya head there, sir. No need to go killin' yourself just to give me an answer."

Roland calmed himself enough to control the coughing. He began to stand, leading the two pegasi on either side of him to rush forward and help keep him balanced. He looked the lead pegasus in the eyes, straightened, and shook his head. "Well alright then, I suppose ya were probably just unlucky enough to get caught in the middle of that inferno. Name's Windsor, head of this region's Disaster Brigade. Something goes wrong anywhere in this part of the country, ya can bet one of us will be there to fix it."

The Gunslinger had to focus every last bit of energy he had on holding back another cough, but it was enough for him to quickly rasp "Roland... of Gilead..." before he was lifted off his hooves by the two pegasi that had been keeping him steady. A moment later they were in the air, heading toward a castle on the side of a mountain just north of the slightly charred forest.

The Eye Opens (Part 1)

Hours had passed since the Disaster Brigade had managed to douse the rampant flames of the sorcerer's fire. He had had a grand view of it from the chamber which the princesses had been kind enough to provide for him in one of the towers just above the throne room. It had certainly been a glorious show, a veritable battle of the elements against one another. It had taken no less than twenty-five grown pegasi to finally get the blaze under control, each release one deluge after another from the clouds they had herded over-head. At first the water had done little more than alter the path of the flames, forcing them to spread further along the forest's border rather than penetrating further into its depths. Eventually though, after hours of confusion and strife in the skies above those woods, the inferno was finally defeated.

That was of little concern to the wizard at this point, however. The fire had been little more than a test to see just how strong the power's within this new body of his were. The single spark he had left behind at the edge of woods had turned into a raging fire-storm that had provided hours of entertainment. If that wasn't the kind of power Walter had been hoping for then nothing was likely to appease him.

He wandered around his new chambers, inspecting every inch of them for anything that might not be what it appeared. His entry into the castle and his meeting with the sisters who rules over this land had been seemed far too easy, leaving him to wonder how much of kindness was really just a ploy to keep him off his guard. Still, upon further inspection of the small two-room suite, he could find no really reason to doubt their sincerity. The younger one is certainly the more powerful of the two, but a great deal of her potential is still unrealized... We'll have to do something about that before this is all over. He had expected the two to be the same close, caring sisters he had briefly met on the night of the old ruler's fall from power. Instead, and much to his delight, he found the pair to be far different than they had been in the past.

The older sister, Celestia, clearly had more experience in terms of leading the nation than her sister. Strong, regal, beautiful, and full of charisma, the white alicorn would make an obvious choice as the figurehead of government. Combining that with her sharp mind and knowledge of the ways of the world, and there would be little reason to debate her position as one of the rightful rulers of Equestria. Yet she had shown little-to-no resistance to the effects of the wizard's magic. His charm had fallen upon her just as easily as it had on the guards, the servants, and the other members of the royal court. On everyone, in fact, besides the second princess.

Proper, focused, and in possession of a particularly royal demeanor, Luna displayed a side of the monarchy which Walter found far more interesting. She was a lovely thing to behold, slender and graceful, but with a sense of forbidding power behind her every movement. Her large blue eyes seemed to stare right through the soul of anyone she looked at. In many ways she seemed superior to her older sister in terms of ability to rule, commanding respect and obedience from her subjects and having just as much knowledge of politics as Celestia did. But she lacked her sister's charisma, constantly taking a backseat to Celestia when they appeared together outside of court. And most importantly, she had a inane talent for magic, something that the wizard picked up on immediately after entering the royal court.

When he first made his way into Canterlot he had begun channeling a mass-manipulation of the minds around him. Everypony he passed soon came under his spell, suddenly focusing their attention on anything other than the shrouded unicorn with the glowing red eyes. Convinced that he was some obscure royal diplomat returning from a 15 year journey around Equestria, the guards let him pass without question. His spell had been well constructed: while it would leave all it touched with no memory of him entering the castle that day, it would implant in their minds a false memory of him returning three years earlier, making it appear that anything that transpired this day would seem to them as if it happened back then. There was little doubt in his mind that Roland would survive his little display of power back in the woods, so he had decided establishing a background in Canterlot would be his best course of action. The Gunslinger still had yet to see him in this form, and who would he be to argue with an entire kingdom who truly believed they had known this grey-coated unicorn for years. The mere thought of Roland and his uncharismatic words attempting to convince an entire country that its monarchs' long-standing advisor had only just appeared a few days ago made him laugh to himself.

"Something amusing you, chancellor?" Walter had nearly forgotten about the pair of guards escorting him to the throne room. He was about to meet the princesses for the first time in what had to have been more than a hundred years, it would not do to enter their presence in a laughing fit.

"Nothing at all, good sir, nothing in the slightest. But please, theres no need for all the formalities with me, save that for those stuck-up lords and ladies. I'll be hanging around these parts for a good long time now, so please, call me Revenant Flare. I've grown a little tired of hearing nothing but 'Chancellor Flare' and 'Chancellor Revenant' over the years." He thought the name had a good ring to it, but he truly had no idea why he had said it or where it had come from. Names had always just been something that he threw around as they were needed.

"That may take a little getting used to, chanc- I mean... Revenant. Most nobles demand us to use their titles whenever we address them."

"Well, rest assured both of you, I'm no noble. I'm merely here to help the Princesses manage their kingdom a bit more efficiently. I'll have none of that pampering that the rest of the court so blindly indulges in. The realm is my only business."

The guards exchanged a quick look, confirming that they were both on the same page in this. "Its good to here that, sir," the second escort said. "I have to admit, aside from the Princesses themselves I doubt any other members of the court really have the realm's best interests at heart. Personally, I'm not sure we'd have much of a realm left if the Royal Sisters weren't here to hold it together and keep that greedy, spoiled lot in check."

The first guard nodded in agreement. "Its good to finally have you back, sir. I certainly hope these other nobles don't make things too hard on you. Ponies with good intentions rarely go uncorrupted in their presence. Hopefully your return is just the sort of wakeup call they need in order to realize that they don't control this world."

No... No they don't. And soon enough I think you'll ALL come to realize that...

The Eye Opens (Part 2)

A moment of silence passed as they walked down the long corridors leading to the throne room. Finally, the guard to Walter(now Revenant Flare)'s right turned his head to the sorcerer and said "I must admit, sir, I only joined the royal guard a few years back. I'm afraid I was little more than an orchard-tender during the time that you served as advisor here. I've only really heard stories and rumors about you and I just have to know... how much of what they say about you is true?"

The first guard, clearly a veteran of more than 30 years on the royal guard, turned on him faster than Revenant would have thought possible. "You fool, you don't just bring up something like that, much less ask a public figure like this how much of the rumors about him are true. Whats in that head of yours?"

"Gentlecolts, please! Theres no need for that, though I'm flattered that you would think of me as a 'public figure'. No, no, let me assure you any rumors that you've heard are probably fairly close to the truth. My methods were always a bit unconventional, but the results always spoke for themselves.."

The older guard was still looking distastefully at his younger associate. "You're addressing the pony who single-hoofedly kept this kingdom from starving to death during the Unthawing Summer twenty years back. If it hadn't been for his quick thinking we all would have been stuck trying to live off of frozen apples and cabbage for the better part of a year. And then he goes off for fifteen whole years to spread his service to the outer reaches of Equstria, only to return here to be questioned about his personal life by a rancher-turned-house-guard like you? You bring shame upon yourself in droves, boy."

The young guard was turning a bright red as he stumbled for the right words. "I didn't... I only meant... Well, I-I-I was just curious. What with the rumors of the affair and all. I never believed it, but you have to understand how much talk there was going around at one point."

Revenant let himself break out into a long, convincing laugh. "Oh those rumors! Well then I take it back, thosemost definitely were not true. Mind you, I was very close with the Princess, but we were friends at best. If anything, she used to see me as a sort of teacher. I was someone she could turn to for help or advice when her sister simply wasn't an option. Honestly the thought never even crossed my mind until the whispers began to spread." He was beginning to feel quite proud of himself over just how intricate of a background his spell had provided for him in the minds of all who it affected.

"There, ya see? You went and made a fool of yourself in front of the chancellor here for nothing. Now straighten up, we're here." The two guards formed back up beside the wizard as they approached the main door to the throne room. Two guards stood on either side of the door, both pegasi, one of pure white wearing golden armor, the other dark blue with black armor and leathery bat-like wings in place of the feathered ones that most winged horses had. They looked at the guards, then at the wizard, and then stared straight ahead and stamped their front hooves on the stone floor. The doors began to swing open and the three entered into the royal court as the sound of murmuring crowd washed over them.

Of those attending that day's assembly, most were regulars of these sort of court gatherings. A few council members, a congregation of upper and lower nobilities, and an assortment of common ponies who merely wished to see their leaders in person. A few had come hoping to present themselves before the Princesses in order to pledge themselves as guards or knights, to beg pardon for some past act, or to lay their own requests before the Royal Sisters. Most of these onlookers were unaware of who or what it was that entering the room until it was too late; by the time the doors opened they were already deeply submerged in Walter's spell. And as it washed over the room, the vast majority of the court suddenly remembered that the actual reason they were there was to welcome back the Princesses' old advisor.

Word must had spread quickly through the city, for hundreds had crammed into the throne room to witness the return of this pony they seemed to remember only through stories and rumors. Most thought of him as some sort of wizard or sage, many believing him to be one of the most notable of the Princesses' aids. A few, sprinkled in among the masses for good measure, remembered only the negative aspects of his character: the rumors of his arcane research, his mistrustful mannerisms, his crimson eyes. A few bad memories were just the sort of thing needed to cement a sense plausibility for his story.

So here they all stood, watching the hooded unicorn and his escorts make their way toward the thrones. Pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies were all in attendance, each one eager to have their curiosity about the identity of this prodigal advisor satisfied. The spell's affect progressed down the length of the throne room, delving into the minds of everything in the wizard's path. Finally, as he came to stand before them, the charm finally reached the Princesses. There was little indication that anything had happened at first. Princess Celestia remained perfectly still, looking down at Walter and the two guards from atop her throne. She showed no signs of being enthralled nor any indication of even noticing the three ponies standing before her. Finally, after this had gone on for a full minute she blinked several times, refocused her vision on Walter, and inclined her head. "Chancellor Revenant. Welcome home my old friend."

The spell had clearly worked on her, something that Walter would normally have found both satisfying and thoroughly amusing, but instead his attention was whole dedicated to Princess Luna. While Celestia had merely gone into a brief trance as the spell worked its way past her defenses, Luna was reacting to it in a much different way. A pale blue mist was forming around her as she began to jerk back and forth on her high seat. The spasms worsened as she desperately tried to fend off the assault upon her mind, resisting the spell that was boring its way into her memories with everything she had. It had far from what Walter had expected. He knew the sisters would be strong, far stronger than anyone else present in court, but he had put everything he knew into creating the enchantment. By all rights it should have been impossible to resist, but still the younger of the two sisters fought on, her struggle invisible to all those who had already fallen under the spell.

Ten minutes of silence passed but Luna refused to give in. The mist was surrounding her, forming a translucent orb around her. Her horn began to glow and her wings beat the air involuntarily as she put every last ounce of strength into her attempt to reclaim her mind. But every ward and every barrier that she threw up to defend herself was quickly demolished by the shear strength of the sorcerer's own magics. Their battle raged on, the wizard standing motionless and expressionless as his pre-calculated spell did its job and Luna, eyes clenched shut and muscles straining as she tapped into her very last reserves of strength, both mental and physical. The rest of the room stood motionless, held in a trance by Walter's enchantment.

Finally, with one last cry of defiance, Luna burst forth from her throne, rushing headlong at the wizard with her horn lowered to be even with his eyes. Walter, taken aback by the fact that she could even move under the extensive mental strain that their dual should have been putting on her, took several hasty steps backwards. He attempted to shield himself, only to find that his mass-enchantment on the minds of all of Canterlot was preventing him from casting anything else.

...Time seemed to slow...

Luna was nearly upon him when it finally happened. Another few seconds and he would have been impaled on her horn, completely helpless as his spell broke. Another few seconds and it all would have been over, but those few seconds never came. Luna froze a foot away from where Walter had been standing, her eyes widening as far as they could. She began to cry out once more, screaming as the spell finally took hold of her. She stood still as stone, mouth open as she screamed, eyes watering as her mind was finally overtaken. As her cry died out her mouth remained agape as her eyes filled with tears. And then, in the time it would take you blink, it was done.

"Chancellor Revenant! You have returned to us at last!"

Walter forced himself to stand up straight. The spell had reached its limit, infecting the minds of every citizen of Canterlot, so he would no longer be able to rely upon it to disguise his actions from this point on. As such, he made a point of regaining his composure as quickly as possible. "I have, my Princesses." He went genuflected before Luna, humbling himself before those he would be claiming to serve from here on out. He looked up at her and saw that her open-mouthed expression of horror had turned to a genuine-looking smile, though the tears that had been streaming from her eyes moments before were still very much present. With any luck, they'll all just dismiss those as tears of joy... Poor little Luna must have really missed her old friend and mentor after all...

And that had been that. Luna had embraced him and then returned to her place on the throne next to her sister's. The two princesses had spoken for a bit on how pleased they were to have their most skilled advisor back and asked him questions about his journey. Afterwards, when the public appearances had come to a close, Walter was brought to his small two-room suite in the tower above the throne room and was instructed to make himself at home.

And so it was that the demon wizard of Mid-World was able infiltrate one of the purest-seeming kingdoms in existence under the pretense of being a force of goodness and order. And it is from this point that we must now return to our old friend Roland, as he should be arriving at that very same castle we were just in, any moment now.

Out of the Fire...

The flight to the castle was an experience that would always remain in the back of the Gunslinger's mind afterwards. Nearly an hour went by as he remained suspended between the two pegasi, the steady beating of their wings keeping time with the subtle lifting and falling motion that accompanied their flight. As they passed over the veritable ocean of trees below them Roland began to wonder just how much of this beautiful land would have burned had these defenders not been diligent enough to have stopped the fire as swiftly as they did. Eventually the forest fell away and the land was suddenly coated with the brightest of greens that Roland had ever seen. The spring grass covered a vast landscape, dominated by rolling hills and scattered foliage.

Though the view was undeniably beautiful, the journey itself was less than a pleasant experience for the Gunslinger. He was not used to being carried, nor the prospect of having no possible control over where he was going. They were at least 60 feet up, much to far to have any hope of escaping if these two pegasi turned out to be pawns of Walter's. The thought had crossed his mind several times since their first meeting after the fire. Without a doubt the forest would have burned had they not stopped the inferno, but who was to say that the magician had not instructed them to do just that, in order to gain the Gunslinger's trust? They had appeared at the exact moment he had needed them most, as if they had merely been waiting until the time was right to break him out of his hellish prison, waiting until he was to preoccupied to decline their assistance. He knew Walter was a master of subterfuge and, because of this, the entire journey passed by agonizingly slow. Each minor decent left him certain that his escorts were about to let him fall to his death, out here where no one would come looking for him.

Yet they ultimately made it to the plaza without any incident occurring to confirm Roland's suspicions. They continued on a bit further, providing the Gunslinger with a luxurious view of the castle, the city, and the mountainside that it was built onto. The buildings blazed in magnificent shades of white, blue, and violet; each one bearing the royal standards upon it in some form. Many had flags with the coat of arms upon it, others had the crest of the Royal Sisters painted on them somewhere. A few were marked by other signs, far more familiar to the Gunslinger's eyes. The dwelling they were preparing to land at was one such familiar building, the red cross upon its sign being one of the few things that had always had one constant meaning where ever he had traveled: medicine.

Upon landing several ponies, all but one of them unicorns, rushed out of the medical building to meet their newest patient. "What's happened here?" exclaimed the lead medic.

Clarion, the female pegasus who had helped fly Roland to the city, summarized the events of the past few hours as quickly as she could. "...so we figured it would be better to bring him straight to you rather than try getting him into the palace in this condition."

Nimbus helped support the Gunslinger as two of the unicorns made their way over to bring him inside. "The flight here took a bit more out of all of us than we thought it would. I doubt we'd have been able to make it even half way down to the castle's infirmary before we collapse." He was not exaggerating, either; both pegasi as well as the Gunslinger himself looks like they were about ready to fall over at any given moment. The doctors escorted them inside, where the two carriers were given a strong herbal drink to bring them back to flying condition. Meanwhile, three medics began working on Roland, using magic to clear his lungs, heal his burns, and generally return his stamina to him.

When all was said and done the Gunslinger was feeling better than he had in years. He had already been weak from the chase when he had entered Equestria to begin with so this time, when he emerged back out into the colorful world around the medical center, he was able to fully appreciate what he was seeing. The shades and hues were so vibrant and alive that he could hardly convince himself that it wasn't merely something that he was dreaming. There were crowds gathered on the street corners, around shop windows, and a small procession heading up the main street toward the royal palace. His two escorts soon joined him, forming up on either side of him as he stared at the marble towers jutting up from the castle. "Lovely sight isn't it," Clarion asked. "It's one that I know I'll never get tired of seeing."

Nimbus turned to the Gunslinger and asked "Is this your first time in Canterlot? Cause if it is you should definitely see the castle up close for yourself... If your feeling up to it of course. I'm sure the healers did a fine job on you, but there's only so much magic can be relied on for. Personally, I think a little bed rest would really be the best thing for you at this point."

Not wanting to sound ungrateful for the help that they had provided for him, Roland went along with their conversation. "I was here once before, briefly, but that was long and ago. The castle seems so much larger than I remember it being." He paused for a moment. "Do the Princesses still hold court there? What I mean is, they still meet with their subjects, yes? They have not locked the pe-ponies of this land out of their councils, have they?"

this time it was Clarion who spoke up. "Not at all. To the best of my knowledge they hold court in the throne room every day. Between greeting new-comers, sorting out common problems and disputes, taking complaints, and managing their little council of lords and ladies I'm amazed that they still find the time to keep the heavenly bodies in line. The sun and moon won't govern themselves so we'd be lost if the Royal Sisters ever became too distracted by their duties."

That still struck the Gunslinger as one of the strangest things about this strange, strange world. Nature was looked upon here the way magic was back in Mid-World. It was something uncontrollable, something to be feared, something that you could never trust. While magic dictated the survival of the ponies who lived here, nature threatened to invert everything that they had come to know. A sun and moon which rose and set on their own would have seemed as preposterous to them as the idea a pair of horses shepherding those same bodies across the sky would seem to any human he had ever known. Yet that was the way of things here, and he had come to accept that during his previous passage through Equestria.

Clarion continued what she had been saying; both her and Nimbus keeping time with the Gunslinger's steps as he began to make his way down the main street. "You know, even though your not exactly a new-comer, I bet the Princesses would love to meet you. We need to rent what happened back in the woods to them anyway, so having someone present who actually witnessed the fire would be a great asset to us."

Nimbus finished the sentiment for her, picking up on the discomfort weighing down her voice as she searched for the right words to convey what she really wanted to say. "It would be our pleasure to escort you to the palace. You will be a guest of honor so long as your their with us; something that I should think would appeal to you after what you just went though back in the woods."

The Gunslinger nodded. This had been Roland's plan for the past hour. He had no doubt that Walter was within the city somewhere, the only problem was that he had no idea what the wizard would look like now. Having noted that his own body was far different than the earth-pony form he had had during his first visit to this world, he could only assume that Walt o'Dim no longer inhabited the same body either. He planned to seek out the Princesses, whose trust he had secured back then and whose power would be essential to tracking down his fleeing quarry. He had feared that the two young mares he had assisted all those years ago may have fallen to the same glam of power that so many other monarchs had in so many worlds before them; growing greedy, secluded, and deaf to the problems and needs of their subjects. Yet if what the pretty young pegasus had just said was true, it would seem that they had remained true to their promise to rule for their people rather than merely ruling over them. This knowledge ignited a new spark of hope within the Gunslinger's heart. Perhaps Gan has finally seen fit to let things work out easily for me, just this once. To let some of these problems work themselves out without mine own involvement, and to let something I have touched not simply fall to ruin.

...He let himself enjoy the that thought for a moment, but did not dwell on it, and by no means did he truly believe it. Ka would play its part in this just as it had through all the rest of his life. And if that life had provided him with any knowledge of what the future would bring, it was that fate had a way concealing its hand until all the money was on the table. Ka would play its part alright, and as the three ponies made their way toward the great palace that dominated Canterlot's skyline, the breeze picked up, bringing with it memories of a time Roland wished he could have forgotten. Ka... like a wind.

As the Sun Sets

The castle loomed ahead, dwarfing all of the buildings around it with its vast, pastel beauty. Roland, Nimbus, and Clarion walked toward the grand palace side by side, the Gunslinger taking the center position as befit a guest of honor. As they walked the two pegasi continued their attempts at conversing with their strange new friend. Clarion talked far more than Nimbus, but it was his questions which vexed Roland the most. The dark blue pony had a talent for cutting right to the point with his inquiries, and the answers Roland provided did not seem to sate his appetite for knowledge in the slightest. He kept his questions very polite and formal, yet Roland could sense a deep distrust in the heart of the questions themselves.

Clarion, thankfully, was satisfied with asking much more superficial questions; and thankfully she did not seem to mind the Gunslinger's brief, often single-word answers. "So where did you say you were from?"

"Gilead." Roland continued walking, never breaking stride or slowing down, less they might come to a complete stop and simply drill him about his past until he had nothing left to hide.

"I've never heard of Gilead. Where is it?"

"Far away."

The red pegasi took this all in good stride, a content smile on her face as she pressed on toward the castle. "How long have you been away from there?"

"Longer than you might believe."

"... That's a long time..."

"Yar, long and again..."

"Is your family still back there?"

The question was innocent enough, but it still cut the Gunslinger deeper than any blade or bullet ever would. Years, decades, centuries; no amount of time would ever be enough to wash the horrid memory of his mother's murder, nor the words of his father's final blood soaked warning from his mind. His mind went from them to the tet he had lost at Jericho Hill, the thought of Cuthbert's smirking face being the final nail in the coffin of this conversation, he had to end it. "I'm afraid I don't have any family. That's why I left, and why I am here now. I was hoping to start a new life Canterlot, but as you can see, that fire had other plans for me."

Nimbus looked over at Clarion briefly, his expression clearly conveying the point that their conversation needed to be dropped. She took the hint, simply nodding to Roland rather than asking a new question. They had come to the front steps of the palace and were greeted by the sight of file of armored guards marching toward them. The Gunslinger had noticed them assembling while they had still been a ways down the road and had wondered if their presence was merely a coincidence. That hope had faded the moment that the two rows of six began to move toward his little party as they mounted the first of the stairs.

Pegasi, all of them, but wearing black and gold helmets with an ornate horn forged onto the forehead, giving them the appearance of small alicorns. They wore chain-mail bearing the same color scheme, gold armor with bands and stripes of jet black metal interlaid over it. Even their wings had been dyed to match their raiment and they bore a specialized armor of their own: a long, thin band of lobstered metal encased the tops of their wings and held three feather-shaped blades in places which draped down the each wing itself. When fanned out, this would make their wings appear to have a set of razor-sharp claws extending just beyond the reach of their actual feathers.

It only took a moment for them to be surrounded, the guards forming a tight circle around the three visitors, wings extended to form a ring of blades around them. Roland had been scanning the entire group since he first noticed them, yet he was unable to pick out one as their leader. Their armor was identical, no one of them having different markings than the one next to them. So it came as little surprise when he finally noticed a lone figure moving toward them, concealed by the shadows being cast by the even sun. This one had to be their leader.

The unicorn's dark garb had helped to hide him from sight, but even keeping to the shadows along the staircase had not been enough to hide him from the Gunslinger's sharp eyes for long. As he emerged from the shade the sun revealed his body to be just as darkly colored as his cloak and armor. The hood which was pulled down over much of his face immediately put Roland on his guard. Would he really be so confident as to reveal himself like this? Surely he would know I'd recognize him with that ridiculous thing on, so why would he continue to wear it? ...Unless he truly is just trying to mock me, trying to force my hand, to make me react. If I were to gun him down here and now I'd have no way to explain myself... If I could even get these damn hooves to work the trigger to begin with. Damn you Walter, your coward's games won't save you forever.

The black stallion joined the rest of the group, two guards stepping back to make room for him. Face to face with this unexpected obstacle, Roland began recalling what he knew of the wizard and the way he normally operated. He would love to simply reveal himself for the sake of announcing that he had trapped me, but it's unlikely he would risk that in front of all of these armed guards. Still though, if he has already manipulated himself into a position where they take orders from him anyway, they may not be a threat to him at all. But even then he must know that I'd shoot him with or without any hope of escaping this situation myself... Unless he knows that I can't use my guns in this form. The one clothed in looked the three of them over with dark emerald eyes. He turned his head to one of the guards and muttered something in his ear, then simply turned and began climbing the steps to the castle without so much as a word to Roland or the others.

The guard who had received the orders stepped forward and relayed them to the rest of the ponies in attendance. "These three are not the ones we are looking for, there is no reason to hold them here any further. The two pegasi are members of the Disaster Brigade, part of the regiment that left to contain the forest fire, this last one I've never seen before, but Captain Stalker has assured me he is not the assassin. You, unicorn, what is your name?"

No one responded. In all honesty, Roland had no idea what was going on. It was only after the guard nodded to him and repeated his question that the Gunslinger realized that it was he who was being addressed. "My apologies, sai, the flight here seems to have taken a toll on my hearing," he lied. "My name is Roland. I was rescued from the fire by these two brave ponies. They are escorting me to meet the Princesses."

There was a slight look of relief in the guard's eyes as he returned to attention. Clearly the thought of having to deal with someone who was both unfamiliar and unresponsive had not been a prospect he was eager to deal with. "Well alright then, as long as that's all straightened out I see no reason to delay three any longer. Better hurry if you plan on introducing yourself to both of the Royal Sisters, though. Luna won't be staying much longer today, that moon isn't going to bring itself out, you know." And with that the guarded dispersed, leaving the three companions to continue up the stairs on their own.

Roland was in I hurry to reach the throne room now, he had far to much to consider and far too many new possibilities weighing upon his mind. Had that been Walter after all? Why had he simply walked off like that? Who were the guards looking for if not him, and who are they trying to save from assassination? And, of course, most importantly: "...Is there a horn jutting out of the top of my head?"

The question left Nimbus dumb-struck, for which Roland was incredibly grateful; he surely would have turned the Gunslinger's question into an excuse to ask a dozen of his own. Thankfully, Clarion answered before he could recover. "Uh... Well I wouldn't say 'jutting,' no. It's just, kind of, there. You know, like a... well like a horn." She looked over at Nimbus for help, but he was still trying to find the right thing to say himself. So she continued. "Don't, um... don't most unicorns have one of those?"

Roland had known this body hadn't been the same as the one he had had during his first visit to Equestria, but he had had no idea that it was an entirely different type of pony. Truth be told, he would have had no idea that he even had a horn on his head if no one had said anything about it. Now that he was conscious of that fact, however, a plethora of new possibilities presented itself. His first journey through this world had been tainted by the fact that he was unable to wield his big guns properly for most of his stay, having to rely on other, far less effective methods of combat. Now, with the potential power that this new factor might offer him, he was certain he would be able to at least fire those massive pistols this time around, should the need arise.

Quickly, he turned to Clarion and bowed his head, his long grey-black mane falling across his face as he did so, pushing his hat nearly off it's resting place just behind his horn. "Forgive me, I likely inhale far more of that smoke than I thought. I fear I may be speaking nonsense here and now. Just pay it no mind."

The dark red mare seemed somewhat put off by this display and hastened to assure Roland that he had done nothing wrong. "Really, it's quite alright. I do the same thing sometimes; and that's without even having my head all cloudy from smoke." She returned his bow with one of her own, nudged him with her snout gently, and waited until he lifted his head back up before returning to her designated position opposite Nimbus. The blue pegasus was still searching for the right thing to say and, in lieu of an actual response to the situation, simply shifted his hooves, looked straight ahead, and said: "Uh, right, well... as long as that's all straightened out, we still have a bit of a walk ahead of us and not much time left to get there. We should go... now... Please."

Finally the three continued on their brief pilgrimage to the throne-room. As they arrived at the massive door to the court two guards stepped into their path. Once more they were both pegasi, one white with feathered wings, the other a dark blue with wings like a bat, both baring the royal seal of the Princesses. They spoke as one, their voices mingling into a single, echoing din. "Halt! Thou will go no further until thine business is made known. The Royal Sisters have completed with their services to the public for today, only members of the council may enter unannounced."

Nimbus had regained his composure and apparently found his voice again during their walk and stepped forward to announce themselves. "I am Nimbus Chaser, fourth seat of Canterlot's Disaster Brigade. This is Second Seat Clarion of the same division, and this is Roland of Gilead. We come baring news of a devastation to the south of here, caused by some foul magic. Roland bore witness to the blaze personally and has implant information about it for the Council's ears only." By the time Nimbus had finished the guards had already backed away to their respective corners, signaling for the doors to be opened.

Nimbus had clearly been too distracted by his calculated introduction to notice the expression that had passed between the two guards, but Roland had seen it clearly. The moment the name of Gilead left his mouth the doorkeepers had straightened to attention without a second thought. It had been at that point that they had begun moving back toward the doors, rather than after hearing the entire explanation of why these three had come before them.

"Enter," they said simultaneously, "and be quick about it. The message that thee carries may be more important that thou realizes." And with that, the doors swung fully open and room before them was revealed.

As the Moon Rises

The three companions entered through the massive double doors, entering a throne room that would have overshadowed that of even the mightiest king. A balcony extended over their heads as they walked down the crimson carpet which ran down the center of the room. When they emerged from underneath it the actual ceiling proved to be well over 60 feet above their heads. The room itself was massive, tiers of benches lined the walls behind wooden fence that encircled the center court. The carpet on the floor made its way from the doors all the way to the high thrones of the Royal Sisters, yet the thrones themselves were empty. Roland felt a sudden burst of pain shoot through his head as they came out from under the balcony, but it passed in a matter of seconds. He looked to either side to see if either of his new friends had felt but they made no sing that anything was wrong, merely walking at his side, their eyes a bit wider than he remembered them being a moment before. Perhaps they felt it after all, only not as strong... Or perhaps I'm just going soft in the mind...

When Roland and his escorts entered the room, instead of finding the Princesses entertaining a court full of Equestrian citizens from their spot upon the thrones as they would at most other times, they found them seated at a large circular table that had been rolled into the center of the room. Around the table sat a small assortment of lords and ladies, politicians and aristocrats, advisors and diplomats from many different portions of Equestria. Celestia and Luna sat beside one another, with the other members of the council flanking them on either side. A space was open directly across from the Princesses so that they had a clear view of the door and anyone who might happen to come through it. However, the shear volume of the doors opening had alerted all present at the table to the newcomers entering the room, so they were all watching as one when Roland, Nimbus, and Clarion stepped into the center court. "And who is this that comes before the council," asked one old grey stallion, his voice shaky from age. "Hmmm? Who is it that has entered our presence? Somepony, tell me who they are!" It was then that Roland noticed the old earth pony's eyes: pale, milky, with little sign of a pupil behind the film that had formed over them. This one's blind as a bat and as easily frightened, yet still present on the Princesses' council. What purpose does he serve, I wonder?

"Calm yourself, elder, we're not being invaded. It would appear news has come back from Everfree." This time it was a far younger stallion just to the left of Princess Luna. He was a lighter grey than the old codger, nearly white in fact, and had bright red eyes. He was also clad in a black cloak, the hood of which was thrown back, revealing him to be a unicorn. "Tell us, is the Princesses' castle safe? Has the blaze been brought under control?"

"It has, Chancellor, we were sent to give our division's report on the situation directly to the Council. Fortunately the fire barely made it passed the forest's border, though extinguishing it proved to be significantly harder than simply containing it." Nimbus nodded toward Roland. "We also brought along this traveler who happened to have gotten caught in the inferno. He has some rather important information that he wished to share with the Princesses."

The Gunslinger stepped forward, conscious of the small sea of suspicious eyes that now rested upon him. The council seemed anything but welcoming and he could not say that he would have chosen any of them for the positions they held had the decision been up to him. Still, Celestia and Luna sat amongst them, two beacons of genuine good intentions within that crowd of corruption and mistrust. Another step and he was standing before them with Nimbus and Clarion at his back. He looked at the Royal Sisters and took a deep, formal bow that would have been far more elegant had he still been in his own body. A few of the council-members exchanged confused glances, the gesture was clearly foreign to their eyes.

As he rose from his bow Roland began to step toward the open spot at the table directly in front of him. Immediately, a pair of guards darted in front of him, spreading their wings to bar his approach. "Another step and ye shall be removed from the court, outsider!" He was about to proceed anyway when two shouts of protest rang out from behind the guards.

"No!" Her voice was startled and straining to be heard, a sense of urgency hung in the air after she spoke.

"Stop!" This one was calm and collected, her statement clearly an order rather than a plea.

The Royal Sisters had both spoken out at once, causing the whole room to turn toward them. Luna had pushed herself onto the table in her rush to halt her guard. She remained there for a moment, front hooves planted firmly on the wooden surface, then suddenly realized the crowd of expectant eyes upon her and quickly returned to her previous position beside Celestia. She looked up at her sister, still only little more than half her size.

Celestia cleared the air of anticipation in the room with grace. "This pony is here to bring us news that will surely interest the council. As such, it seems only proper that he take a seat at our table." The guards looked at each other for a moment, then stepped to other side of the open space at table, heads lowered in an apologetic manner. Still, both the nightguard and the sunguard gave Roland a suspicious look as he walked past. The Princess must have noticed, as she made sure to send a few more words their way. "You must trust our judgement on this matter. Besides, I have it on good faith that he is not an assassin."

She acknowledged the Gunslinger with a smile, but nothing more. Luna had a bit more difficulty hiding her excitement at the sight of this unexpected visitor. Her eyes were wide and shining, and she hung on his every word as Roland went about recounting the events of the past day. He left out any mention of the door or the name of the invader who had started the fire. "For I know for a certainty that this hellish blaze was no accident. It was no ordinary flame that burned at its heart, and it could only have been set into motion by one who had control over such arcane forces. He was either attempting to keep me from following him any further, or he wished for something in that forest to be lost in the inferno. Though, it would seem more likely to me that the coward would simply have used it to accomplish both tasks and thought himself quite clever for it."

A long moment passed, during which Roland noted the look of deep reflection and contemplation crossing Celestia's eyes. Theres something out there, something important that Walter wants or wants to make certain I do not reach. What is it that you know of this matter Princess? And would you see fit to tell me even if we were not surrounded by so many untrustworthy others? She took a few another few moments to consider the possibilities of what she had just been told, then finally, she turned to the unicorn who had spoken before. The albino, that is why he appears so strange to my eyes. That had been bothering the Gunslinger since he first saw the creature seated beside the Princess. The pale coloration was easily explained, but the red eyes were a far stranger trait, one which would have unsettled Roland had he not become thoroughly desensitized to such reactions long ago.

"Chancellor, you mentioned the castle before. Do you really think that that could be what this invader was hoping for then?"

"I admit, I had my doubts at first. Everfree Forest is massive and that blaze could have spread to any part of it... Still, in light of this new evidence I think we may have our answer after all."

"I had hoped it would not come to this, that castle was always so well protected and hidden away... I suppose I simply thought that sense of security would last forever." She looked around the room and suddenly realized that no one else seemed to have any idea what she was talking about save for Luna and the Chancellor, and Luna was far too distracted to hear more than a small portion of what her sister had been saying. "My apologies everypony, Chancellor Revenant and I had discussed a matter earlier that we believe may relate to this incident as well as the possible assassin rumored to be in Equestria now, and I believe Roland has just confirmed one of our suspicions on the subject."

The Princess rose from her cushion and motioned for Luna to do the same. "My sincerest apologies to all of you but I fear we must cut this meeting short; there is a great deal that Luna and myself need to discuss in private and there is still a moon which needs to rise tonight." Luna seemed to wake back up at that, having forgotten all about her most essential duty to the land during all of the excitement that had occurred. "I hereby offer you each an invitation to stay here in the castle tonight as our honored guests. We will surely want the three of you present at tomorrow's council as well. This fire matter still has a great deal which needs to be considered before we put it to rest. Rest well, all of you." She turned from the table and began to walk toward the exit near the thrones, a wooden door leading to the Royal Suites.

Luna left the table, stopped for a moment, and then turned to Roland and said in a much calmer voice than he had her use all night: "Long days and pleasant nights." She turned again and followed her sister out of the throne room. The council members dispersed without so much as a word of parting, the Chancellor doing his best to assist the old blind elder in getting out of the room.

A pair of household guards, far less threatening than the two who had stopped Roland from nearing the table, appeared and informed Roland, Clarion, and Nimbus that they were to show them to their guest chambers. Roland and Nimbus accepted the offer gratefully, both looking forward to the idea of a private room and a real bed, albeit for different reasons. Much to the Gunslinger's surprise, however, Clarion began to act very nervous, and when questioned about what type of room she would prefer, she immediately began to stumble over her own words in an attempt to answer. "Oh, me? I, um, well, uh, you see... The thing is I, uh. I uh, I didn't know we'd, um... Well, that is, I don't. I. I just don't think it will be necessary to... Um... I'msorryIhavetogo!" And with that, she darted over out the main door and down the hall, taking to the air the moment she reached an open window to fly out of.

Befuddled by what he had just witnessed, Roland turned to Nimbus in hopes of gaining some kind of answer. Instead, he was met with a simple, disappointed-looking head shake. "It's not the first time, she does this every now and then. Just up and leaves so long as there's nothing important for her to be doing. She tends to dart off as soon as any of our training runs are, but none of us have ever really bothered following here to see where it is she goes."

They continued their conversation as they followed the guards to their sleeping quarters. Something Nimbus had mentioned earlier had been weighing on Roland's mind. "When you introduced us back there, crying our names to the guards so we could enter, you called Clarion the Second Seat in your tet... in your group. What does it mean?"

"Its a rank, it means that she is second in command in the Brigade. Should Windsor ever reach a point where he is unable to fulfill his duties as leader, she is the next in line to take over."

"And you are Fourth Seat then?"

"Caught that part as well, did you? Yes, she outranks me, but no I'm not bitter about it. Trust me when I tell you, she earned that rank and all the benefits and responsibilities that come with it."

"I cry your pardon, it was not intended as an insult, nor an inquisition. Its just that she has not as of yet struck me as the type who would fit an officer's role."

"I know she can come off as a bit... detached at times, but let me assure you her heart is always in the right place. It also doesn't hurt that she is easily one of the fastest flyers in Equestria." They had reached the first of the three chambers that had been lays out for them to use. The guards told Nimbus it was his and ushered him inside. "We can discuss this more some other time. Just rest assured Clarion is a more than capable leader when she needs to be. If she feels it necessary to disappear every couple days or so when nothing important is going on, I'm not going to be the one to tell her otherwise." He bid Roland good night and disappeared behind the room's wooden door.

The guards continued down the hall until they reached a similar door that led into a small, but well-furnished sleeping chamber. The Gunslinger entered cautiously, all too aware that letting his guard down now could very easily result in Walter getting the jump on him. The room had everything one would need in a short-term living quarters: a bed, a chair, a fireplace, candles for lighting, some artwork upon the otherwise bare walls, a dresser, a mirror, and a windowed door which opened onto a small balcony. All in all, a simple but comfortable place to spend the night, far more comfortable than anywhere Roland had slept in years.

He had just finished examining his surroundings and was preparing to settle into the warm-looking bed before him when something clicked against one of the glass panes of the balcony door. The Gunslinger whipped around, one foreleg going to his revolver. Though he knew attempting to draw it would be a fruitless endeavor, the reaction had become too ingrained to ignore. He moved toward the door, eyeing the glass suspiciously. There should have been enough light to be able to see who or what was tapping on the glass, the moon was nearly full and filling the outside world with its pale glow. Yet there was nothing but darkness beyond the doorway, shadow covered it entirely.

He reached the door, suddenly certain that he knew what was waiting behind it. He pushed it open, stepped onto the small balcony, and saw what had been trying to get his attention. He was not disappointed.

"Hail Gunslinger, it has been far too long." The little Princess had shrouded the entire balcony in shadows, no light penetrated through from the world outside. Luna was standing against the railing, her sister just beside her. They had clearly been waiting for some time, staying out of sight until Roland had been completely alone.

"I fear we have much to discuss, and very little time to speak before I must bring the sun back around. I hope you don't mind having our little meeting here on the balcony." Celestia's horn began to glow as she shut the door behind Roland, sealing them within Luna's personal bubble of twilight. Their palaver would last for another hour before they would emerge again, and it would uncover many more questions than answers.

Words in the Dark

The night was dark, the sky moonless and blanketed in thick clouds. Yet the three saw none of it from under their dome of black fog. No light could enter, and no noise could escape. What better place to hold palaver than that?

Yet before any of the questions could be asked, a moment had to be taken for greetings to be properly made. Barely a moment after he entered the sphere of darkness Roland was embraced by Luna; the little Princess was now just a bit tall than he was' and deceptively strong for her slender figure. Her sister, who still dwarfed them both, waited patiently for her to finish with that display of joy before cutting in. "We are both very happy to see your return to this world, Gunslinger, but I can only assume that you have not come back simply to take us up on our original offer."

Before his departure the last time they had met, two young, inexperienced, and incredibly brave little Princesses had begged him not to leave. The younger had offered him a home in their world, the older offered to make him their Grand Knight. Both had wept, though only one in the view of others, when he had turned away and wordlessly moved on. It may be that he had not had the heart to tell them that he couldn't stay, that his Tower was still calling him... Or perhaps, he simply wanted to spare them the tears attempting to force themselves from his own eyes. He had had paradise, in one form or another, in his very grasp that day, yet in the end he had given it all up. Given it all up so that he might spend the next millennia wandering the deserts of doubt, pain, and death. All for his precious Tower. Always for the Tower.

But the pains of the past are easily forgotten when one considers those yet to come, and such struggles were weighing heavily on Roland's mind now. " 'Fraid not, though you know I would if I could. But that road was closed to me long ago, my only home is far and away now. No, I'm afraid I came here for something far less-"

"It's the assassin, isn't it?" Luna was staring at him with one wide, glimmering eye, the other hidden behind the drape of her mane. "did thou not come here to stop him? Thou knew we were in trouble and came back to make sure we made it through safely."

"Sister, I have told you already, these are two unrelated events. The assassin is one of our own kind and has been in this region for month. Roland and his target arrived at the same time as each other."

"I admit, I knew nothing of this assassin before arriving here, nor that the two of you were in any peril, but I feel it unlikely that the events are entirely unrelated. These things do not happen by accident."

"Ka." Luna was looking at him closely once more, though it felt to Roland as though she were looking through him. "That is what thou called it, is it not? Ka? Fate."

"You remember our discussion well. Yes, ka paves the paths the walk and all roads lead to the Tower. I have no doubt that the same applies to this meeting of ours. Now, what is it that you really came here to tell me? As much as I treasure these pleasantries, there is something more serious that you both felt it necessary to ask. I would hear it."

Luna stepped back, she knew it was her sister's turn to speak now, she knew these things were best left to the elder ruler in cases like this. Celestia moved forward, standing between them both under the dome of night. "We... We believe there is a traitor among us. Someone who wishes to see the downfall of this empire and, if we are not misreading this traitor's intentions, bring the entire world to ruin. We believe that this fire you were faced with was merely an offshoot of our enemy's attempt to separate us from our greatest weapon-"

"Tool, sister. Our greatest tool. That it what you told me when we first used them, thou assured made it very clear to us that they were never meant to be weapons."

Celestia looked taken aback by her sister's scolding, but quickly regained her composure. "No, you are quite right Luna, this is all weighing a bit heavier upon me than I would like to admit. The point remains that we have reason to believe someone within our council has been aiding this assassin whom my sister mentioned earlier."

Roland thought about all of this carefully, surveying the situation in his mind as she spoke. "A coup would hardly be unexpected if Walter is involved in this somehow. But what has led you to believe that your entire world is in danger?"

Celestia hesitated a moment before explaining the final portion of what they had learned during the past month. With so much developing in this case over such a short time, Roland's unexpected return earlier that day had been one of the first pleasant surprises that either sister had had for quite some time. As such, she was hardly eager to discuss such grave happenings with him so soon after his arrival. "We have looked at everything that has happened in relation to this very carefully, and we believe there is something far darker at work than a simply power-grab attempt. Some of our councilors are undoubtedly greedy and self-centered, but none would be brave enough to attempt something Ike this unless someone with the power necessary to keep them safe from Luna and myself were involved. I fear that a more ancient evil than this Black Wanderer of yours may be at work here."

She took another step toward Roland, meeting the gaze of his pale blue eyes unflinchingly. "There are very few on that council that we truly trust any more, but letting them know that could easily cause this entire situation to escalate too quickly for us to stop. You are one of those few whom we know we can trust now, so if it is at all possible, we humbly request your aid in this matter. The one whom you are hunting, if what you have said is true, is likely involved in this. I am by no means asking you to stop your pursuit of him. Instead, we would simply ask that you help us uncover exactly who it is he is serving, and what it is that they are planning to do."

Their meeting concluded only a few moments later, with the Gunslinger agreeing to aid the Royal Sisters in their plight. A few other topics were discussed, a few more pleasantries were exchanged, and a few more questions were answered. But those moments all belong to the three of them, to their little tet. And who are we to intrude upon what may be one of their last happy memories together?

Servants of the Prim

The morning had past quickly, with very little of interest occuring since he first awoke when Celestia returned. Down with the moon and up with the sun... I guess old sayings really can be used for new situations. That very routine had kept him well-rested and alert for centuries, and he had no intention of changing such an effective sleep schedule simply because of his new surroundings. The wizard had found the new Equestria to be very much to his liking, and being treated as near-royalty only helped to cement his feelings about this world. No doubt about it, this world is a keeper. This one is going to burn nice and bright.

Still, even with the royal treatment and the hoards of witless masses now at his disposal, something was troubling the dark colt. After hours of searching the night before, he had finally come across a book containing an unabridged history of the Royal Sisters' rise to power. On top of that, several other books were discovered in the vaults and libraries of the castle which contained information about Equestria prior to their rule and the great battle which had freed it from the clutches of chaos. The clutches of the Prim, if I'm not mistaken... Yet not one single mention is made in any of them about just what happened to the corpse after the battle. Surly they didn't give it a proper burial, but it seems hard to believe they would just dispose of it either... Hell, I half expected to see his damned head mounted over their thrones when I first arrived here. But no, nothing. Nothing at all...

It was not until lunch that day that inspiration finally struck him. The council members had gathered for a mid-day meal; a simple repast of consisting of several hay and clover-based dishes. Roland's arrival the previous night had given him yet another issue to add to his already-burdened mind, so he was barely touching what was in front of him. It was Princess Luna herself who pointed this out to him partway through the meal.

"Master Revenant, is thou not hungry? Or is it merely this food? We could by all means have something else brought out thee if this is not to thine liking."

He smiled at her, the innocent little princess who had so remorselessly obliterated his last body as she had hurled him from their world last time they had met. "Very gracious of you, my lady, but I assure you, this food would normally fit my tastes perfectly. Unfortunately, my mind is a bit too preoccupied today to focus on actually eating it."

The curious look on her face turned to one of dismay. "Is it our fault? We know today's lesson did not go as thou wished. Perhaps we could try again after lunch? We promise to do better this time!"

"No, no! Not at all my dear, your' performance has nothing to do with it. And let me assure you, you are doing just fine in your lessons. In fact, I doubt anyone but your sister has ever progressed through this much training in such a short time." He turned to face her, forsaking his barely-touched plate. "No, I'm afraid it's something far more difficult to work with that is bothering me. It's a matter of history; something far less malleable than your lessons. And it's that very lack of control that I have over it which is making it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else..."

"Well... We are somewhat good with history, thou even said that we had the perfect mind for it. Perhaps we could assist thee with thine... was it research? Or are thou looking for something? We don't believe thou ever actually stated what thine problem was." The curious gleam had returned to her eyes, just as Walter had hoped it would.

"You know, you are absolutely right. Perhaps all I needs is an assistant, someone whose mind is not so burdened by the the thoughts of an old colt like me. And it's safe to say you are one of the most gifted students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching so, yes. By all means, you may assist me with this little problem. Why don't you come up to my chambers in an hour and we'll see what we can piece together."

He left her looking very pleased with herself, though still entirely clueless as to the nature of his problem. In truth, he really did need her help, but admitting that would never do for someone like Walter o'Dim. Instead, he had successfully convinced himself that he was merely doing this in order to see just how easily he could manipulate the little Princess. Powerful beyond comprehension, yet too shy and sheltered to properly acknowledge it... Oh yes, this is going to be fun...

They met in his study an hour later and immediately began getting to work. Asking h flat-out would surely give rise to suspicion so he had chosen to hid his true question behind the guise of more research. "I need to develop a proper timeline and summary of the events commonly referred to now as the Fall of Chaos. As you can see, I have compiled a large collection of books, scrolls, and works of art which all reference the event, but none of them have a complete history of it, and much of the information contradicts itself from one source to the next."

Luna sifted through the pile of paintings old scrolls diligently, searching until she found a single sketch which she levitated toward the wizard. "Here! Tis this one which Sister always said provided the best image of...His rule. And that seems as though it would be the best place to begin your timeline."

Revenant took the paper and looked at it, almost amused by what he was seeing. The drawing was crude at best, sketch by someone who had clearly only heard about what Equestria once was second-hand. Still, he could not deny that there wasn't a bit of truth to what he was seeing.

The image depicted a land barren of all vegetation, surrounded by mountains, storms, and watched over by a swirling black void. This abyss glared down at the land through a pair of unsymmetrically sized eyes, their crimson stare the only thing drawn in color on the yellowing paper. Below, the rough depictions of ponies could be made out amongst a smoke and of the old world. As far as artist depictions went, Revenant felt that this one's creator had likely taken a few more personal liberties than had been necessary. Few alive today knew the reality of that era, and fewer still would ever admit the truth, but deep down, there was no way to deny that Equestria had not been the horrible dreamscape depicted in this sketch. Their King may have been insane, true enough, but no one ever went hungry, entertainment was never in short supply, and the poor were never looked down upon by councils of self-obsessed nobles as they are now. Yet they overthrew him none-the-less, and over what? A little harmless fun, some tinkering with the elements, distortion of the very fabric of reality... I guess some people just can't be helped.

They worked for hours, discussing the events that had led to Luna and Celestia's rise to power as they made their way through the small mountain of history compiled before them. Finally, as they reached the end of the story, Walter saw his opportunity appear. "...And that just about covers everything that the books can tells us. Yet the still something that bothers me about the whole tale. Something that seems to have been left out of every version of the story."

Luna looked at the timeline they had created, searching for something she may have missed. "It all appears to be there. What has been forgotten?"

Now or never. Ask her, she can't object to it after all this. There may never be another chance like this again! He moved to the timeline, a long scroll of silver parchment that he had enchanted to keep a record of what they said as they came across the information. He indicated the point where the Elements of Harmony had been used and the King had been vanquished. "Here. No matter how many accounts we have read, not a single one tells what happened next. What happened to the body. What happened... to Him." He looked the young Princess in the eyes, making sure to use his best most pensive, thought-addled expression. "Surely you two did not simply dispose of it. But what could have happened to him after the battle?"

Luna backed away a step, and for a moment Walter felt a sudden urge to lash out at her with both body and mind. Yet he restrained himself, composure was his only true weapon here, he had seen just how powerful his little assistant could be and had no intention of drawing that side of her out. Not yet.

"If this conversation makes you too uncomfortable, I will drop the subject at once. I merely wished to finish what so many other historians had started. The timeline can end here if that is what you would prefer."

For a long time, she said nothing, simply standing there lost in thought. She's reliving that day... I can see it in her eyes. She fought for her life that day, and memories like that aren't easily locked away. Ten minutes passed, and still nothing. Walter decided to cut his losses before it did any permanent damage to the girl. "It is enough. We have have done more than I could have possibly hoped here today, and we achieved it all in such a short time. You should be proud of your work, this will grace the royal library for generations! My Princess, we should go. There is nothing more to add here, I can see that clearly now. Some things simply are not meant to be known."

"...no..."

"Luna?"

"...it's here..."

"What are you talking about my dear?"

"The statue... in the room... It's still here..."

It took him a moment to piece together her mumblings, but the magnitude of the situation made itself apparent in the tears streaming from the Princess' eyes. He moved toward her, wary not to make his movements too sudden or abrupt. They stood there for a moment; then, in his most comforting voice, he spoke the words that would Harbor chaos back into this pure, unsuspecting world. "...Tell me, my dear.... Tell me everything..."

Discordia Rising

As the wizard entered the dark chamber beneath the castle, a sense of terrible dread washed over him, causing him to stop just beyond the threshold of the circular room. It was a fairly small study; dimly lit and and smelling of dust, it was unlikely that anyone had stepped through its door in decades. The high ceiling tapered into rounded dome in the center. There was little within the room itself but for an empty marble plinth directly beneath the center of the dome. Something wasn't right. He doubted that Luna would have, or even could have, lied to him, yet perhaps her sister had moved the statue without her knowing. The whole situation simply felt too much like one of his own traps for his taste. The fear in his heart grew as he heard the sound of hooves making their way down the hall, chain-mail of the royal guard clinking with each step. He was just about to make a run for it when he noticed something strange as he turned toward the door.

Set upon the stones to either side of the wooden door were a pair of oddly shaped runes, each glowing a dark red color. He soon realized that his own horn was glowing the same shade, a steady stream of magic leaving him and migrating toward the glyphs. Well well, it would seem I still have a few tricks left that even I don't know about. Looks like someone set these up to dissuade intruders. He looked directly at one of the glyphs and forcibly cut off the flow of magic he had been unknowingly directing at it. The moment he did a surge of shear terror filled him and, as he looked back into the room, the plinth in the center of the room disappeared completely. Quickly, he redirected his attention back to weakening the force of the glyph. Dissuade intruders indeed. Obviously someone forgot to inform these defense systems that I am an honored guest! His eyes began to glow as he sent a jolt of energy into the glyphs, causing them to grow in size and intensity, begin pulsing, and then fade completely.

As soon as the glyphs were gone his senses cleared, the hoofbeats in the hallway ceased, and the room became far more illuminated. Walter turned back toward the center of the room, began walking toward the marble stand, and closed the door behind him with a weak gust of magic. As the plinth came back into existence, the sorcerer noted that it appeared far different than it had a moment before. The expertly-cut marble had just been another part of the glyphs' illusion. What he was looking at now was a crudely shaped square of granite, likely dug directly from the mountain upon which his former employer had fallen. This was confirmed seconds later as the rest of the statue began to take shape as the illusions surrounding it slowly dispelled.

A pair of legs appeared first, with a tail curled behind them. Two legs only, though neither one seemed to fit with the other or the tail which was now connected to serpent-like body of some sort of ancient dragon. Two arms came next, each tipped with claws for rending, yet not at all the kinds one would expect a dragon to possess, and two wings of equally outlandish natures came after that. The neck was long and arching, but the head set upon it seemed to be that of some partially-fanged horse or goat, with a twisted horn and a pronged antler making up its crown. The creature's face was locked in an open-mouthed expression which, when combined with the position of his arms, made it look as if he were singing or proclaiming something to the nearly empty room around him. All of this was captured and eternally locked in time by solid, grey granite.

"Thanks again Luna, I'll be sure to remember this when the time comes to clear out the old monarchy. Celestia may not stand a chance in hell of garnering a pardon, but perhaps I'll be able to find a nice little servant's position for you to fill." The unicorn made his way to the statue, looking up at the expression on the creature's face with a slight hint of amusement. "Dusting the statue that was once your sister, for a start."

"Say, thats not a bad idea. Turn her to stone, now why didn't I think of that?" The sound of another voice was the last thing Walter had been expecting. He jumped back, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder. What he saw was an empty room with a petrified former tyrannical ruler planted in the middle of it. The voice was familiar, an echo from the past. It left a strange sensation of a both relief and utter fear in the back of his mind. It had seemed to come from every direction at once, and the volume was not hushed as his own voice had been. Its own clearly didn't care who heard what he was thinking.

Still, the room remained empty and the statue was just as lifeless as it had been prior to the second voice's appearance. Walter backed his way slowly to the door, all the while using his magic to search the room for invisible beings or more defense glyphs. He found neither and was turning to make his exit when his eyes connected with those of an apparition from centuries before. There, leaning against the door with his neck arched out and his face inches away from the wizard's, stood Discord, former ruler of Equestria and the very embodiment of chaos itself. His arms and legs were crossed in a nonchalant pose, as if it were a perfectly normal occurrence for someone who was turned to stone generations prior to suddenly be able to move around as he wished. "Yes, petrifying her would just be so ironically delightful. But don't you think its a bit predictable Marten? You need to think further outside the box." Discord pulled his head back, giving the sorcerer a bit more space in which he could continue to stand dumbstruck. "Still, you ARE thinking, can't deny that for a second now can we? Befriending the younger sister, now that is a stroke of genius! Younger siblings always harbor some form of jealousy toward the elder, you should have no trouble exploiting that, I'm sure."

"No, no trouble at all." Walter had finally been able to come to terms with the fact that his old employer was still very much alive, and realized that he had to say something or risk losing all credibility with the old abomination. "Luna seems sweet enough on the outside, but theres some real anger inside that pretty little creature just waiting to erupt. Besides, its not like this is the first time I've done this." He began to turn back toward the center of the room, expecting to see the plinth empty once more. Instead, he saw Discord again, two of him in fact. The one he had just been talking to was now hanging off the stone one with one reptilian claw and one lion-like paw clinging to the statue.

"You look different somehow, wizard. What is it: get a hair cut," a pair of scissors suddenly flashed into existence in Discord's taloned right hand, "different cloak, new boots?"

"New body, and I'll thank you not to toy with me like I'm just another one of your precious little puppets." Walter took a step forward. "How is it that we are even having this conversation? Your still imprisoned, I can still sense you inside the stone!"

Now Discord was behind him, head resting on Walter's right shoulder while his body was off to his left. "Well of course I'm still imprisoned, my newly-formed friend. And if you weren't a fan of my puppets you should have said so form the beginning. I'd be more than happy to play with some of yours instead." A sly grin appeared on Discord's face just as the strings to three marionettes appeared in his hands and tail. He gave them each a brief jerk upwards and began talking to Walter through the wooden puppets connected to them, his voice growing increasingly ridiculous as each one spoke.

"Best be careful who you speak to like that, Randy," said the puppet of a small boy wearing a crown too big for his head, "Some people don't like being given orders."

"Yeah," said a clock with a face on it which was being controlled by the strings Discord's tail was wrapped around, "and lets not forget how long some people in this room have been stuck without someone to toy around with. Cut the guy a little slack."

"Yeah Marten, listen to your toys. I think I deserve to have a little fun messing around with you, seeing as you seem to have gotten off free of punishment after our last little play-date." Discord turned his attention to the final puppet. "And what do you have to say on this matter, my pungent little friend?"

The wooden trash can being controlled by Discord's left hand looked around at the other puppets, its googly eyes bobbling around as it turned. Its gaze fell upon the wizard as it dutifully blurted out "My life for you!?!?" in its controller's own screechy falsetto.

Discord looked down at the puppet with an expression of severe disappointment. "Well thats just depressing, way to break the mood there garbage boy..." With a snap of his talons the puppets disappeared and he was once more sitting on the plinth next to his petrified self.

"You still didn't answer my question... friend. How is it that the two of us are even talking right now. I can just barely sense you inside that stone prison of yours, we shouldn't be able to hear each other much less put on entire puppet shows like that." The wizard took another step forward, closing the gap between him and his "friend."

"Ah Marty. Marty, Marty, Randy. When are you going to wake up and realize that I am discord itself? If I were truly locked away in a basement somewhere, completely powerless and entirely harmless, the world would be a perfect place. A perfect, predictable, boring place where nothing unexpected ever happened. Now tell me, is that how the world outside seems?"

"...No..."

"No! Of course not! That would be ridiculous, and not in a fun way. I can't be killed without that being the fate of this world. And even if I am imprisoned, I can still manipulate things directly within a certain proximity. You wouldn't even begin to imagine the kinds of pranks I can pull of from down here. And now that those glyphs of Celestia's are out of the picture, the range my magic can cover is even greater. I may not be able to do much from here, mind you, but its enough to keep things interesting. Spread a little dissent among the masses, move small objects, temporarily take away wings, horns, cutiemarks... That sort of thing, just enough to ensure that the world is never truly perfect. And of course the absence of the glyphs allows me to present myself as a mental image to those who were close enough to me to be able to recognize my power for what it truly is, rather than simply assuming its little more than a series of accidental, unexplainable occurrences."

The sorcerer stared at him, blankly. "Take away cutiemarks?"

"Ugh, fine, or alter them, whatever. Geez, its always specifics and reasons with you isn't it."

"I'm afraid I still don't see what point that any of that would serve. It doesn't make any sense."

Discord simply narrowed his gaze and smiled. The wizard knew there was no reason to argue the point any further so he simply allowed the subject to drop. "Fair enough... So those pathetic little glyphs were the only thing keeping your power contained this entire time?"

A look of shock flashed across Discord's face. "Contained? Who said my powers have been contained all these years? I've been able to cause plenty of chaos within Canterlot. Regardless of how small or insignificant my antics may seem to you, the shear number of pranks I've been able to pull from down here has been more than enough to keep me relatively sane these last few... How long have I been down here again?" He looked genuinely interested in learning just what sort of time span his imprisonment had covered, yet Walter had only the faintest idea himself.

"Time moves differently on my side of the door, I'm afraid. Of course, if I had to guess, I'd say its been the better part of a thousand years by now." The wizard had no way of knowing such a thing, but he felt it would be better to give a fabricated answer than none at all. "But really what does it matter. Let mortals worry about years and centuries, time should mean little to someone like you."

Discord's eyes narrowed as he took in the sorcerer's words. "Yes, well, as nice as its been having a house guest after all these unimportant measurements of time, I see no point in continuing our little conversation here. Now that the glyphs are gone I'll be able to contact you like this from anywhere in the castle. At any time. Completely unannounced. Potentially at the most inopportune moments... So we have those little meetings to look forward to if nothing else." The tyrant stood up and began observing his statue, taking note of the positioning of each limb and feature. Without looking away from it, he disinterestedly continued speaking to Walter. "I trust you haven't forgotten your part in the plan?"

Finally, its about time he got to this part. Trying to seem just as uninterested in the subject as Discord, Walter began to make his way toward the door. "I remember the important parts. Spread a little chaos within the court, turn the sisters against each other, divide the nation, and let the rest work itself out."

"Not bad, that covers the basics, but you forgot the most important part."

"And which part might that be?" Walter asked, beginning to feel genuinely aggravated. He had known what Discord wanted to hear, yet still he failed to see any possible reason why this old chimera was so hell-bent on ensuring it was done.

"The statues, Randal, duh! Am I going to need to remind you about that part of the plan every time we see each other from now on? Because honestly, if it comes down to that I think I'll just get to work on writing it down for you so that next time we meet like this I can just staple it to you or something." He paused to think for a moment. "...I wonder if I can do that without my body. Oh, this sounds like something that would be worth trying out on Celestia during her next big appearance at court! I can see it now, a phantom stapler reeking havoc in the crowd. So many possibilities for that one." He suddenly seemed to notice that Walter still remained in the room. "Ah, yes, so anyway like I said before, get the statues made and mixed in with the rest of the stock. Just make sure every detail is perfect, otherwise Celestia's bound to get suspicious; you know how she gets when things aren't specifically to her liking. Do that for me, and I can ensure that a certain magical artifact I believe you came back here for gets coincidentally misplaced."

That was all Walter needed to hear. "Discord, its always a pleasure working with you, my friend." He left the room and made his way back up to the dining hall. It wouldn't be proper to miss the meal he had promised to spend with his sweet, lonely new play-thing.